Visit Hospital

Night settled heavy over the house, and Ryuki finally got Saki to sleep after a battle of whining and tugging. She'd clung to his arm, muttering about their mother, but exhaustion won out. Ruby dozed beside them a card still in her hand. Ryuki grabbed a worn backpack, slipped out, and locked the door behind him.

The dark street stretched ahead, shadows pooling under flickering lamps. Most would shiver walking here, but not Ryuki. He reached Ruby's house. His throat tightened. Is he dead? Or still breathing?

He focused his ability: How do I kill Ruby Miyazawa's father, Herman Miyazawa, right now?

Do nothing.

Ryuki exhaled, shoulders loosening. Dead already. He stepped to the door, hesitated, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Wrapping it around his hand, he turned the knob. The door creaked open, spilling light from inside. He kicked off his shoes, slid into a pair of slippers by the entrance, and padded into the living room.

Herman sprawled on the floor, eyes wide and empty, chest still. Ryuki froze, staring. Dead. But how? The orange juice mix—he'd done it, somehow. "I killed him," he muttered. "Don't know the trick, but it worked." He shook his head. No point in dwelling—get the cash and go.

A suitcase sat on the table, sleek and black. He frowned. He unzipped it, revealing stacks of bills—100k credits, crisp and real. He shoveled them into his bag, adrenaline buzzing, then bolted.

Next stop: the abandoned house. He stashed the money under a loose floorboard, dust tickling his nose. Explaining this money would be a problem—tomorrow's problem. For now, more work awaited. He trekked an hour to a distant shop, swiped a can of flammable oil—no one saw—then trudged another hour to the park.

Homeless men slept scattered across the grass, newspapers draped over them like flimsy shields. Ryuki moved silent as a ghost, pouring oil in a wide ring around them, splashing drops onto their makeshift blankets. He struck a match, the flame flaring bright, and tossed it. Fire bloomed fast, licking up the grass, swallowing the papers. He turned and walked away, the crackle fading behind him.

His gift confirmed it: they'd all burn. No one cared about these guys—police wouldn't blink. In the game, they'd raped every heroine. So they deserve the death.

Morning came. Ryuki bathed with Saki and Ruby, the girls splashing and giggling while he scrubbed fatigue from his eyes. After, he herded them to Asuka's house. Saki dragged her feet, pouting. "I wanna wait for Mother."

"She'll be back tomorrow," Ryuki said, firm. "Let's go play with Asuka—it'll be fun."

She sulked but caved, her mood lifting as she tackled Asuka in a game of tag. Ruby and Yuta joined in, laughing over a board game. After a while, Ryuki slipped into kitchen.

Michiko stood at the counter, her back to him, chopping carrots with steady, practiced slices. Her denim shorts hugged her hips, the fabric stretching tight over her curves, her bare thighs smooth and pale in the morning light. The thin straps of her cream tank top slipped slightly as she moved, revealing the soft slope of her shoulders and the upper swell of her breast. Her black hair, loose from its usual bun, spilled down her back in soft waves, swaying with each cut.

She glanced over her shoulder, catching him in the doorway. "Ryuki," she said, her voice warm, "You're just in time. Grab the eggs from the fridge—thought we'd do omelets."

He nodded, stepping in. The kitchen smelled of onions and butter, a faint sizzle rising from a pan on the stove. He pulled the eggs from the fridge, setting them on the counter, but his hands lingered there, fingers tapping the carton. Now or never.

"Aunt Michiko," he started, "I need to tell you something."

She paused mid-chop, the knife hovering over a carrot. "Hm?" She turned fully, resting a hip against the counter, her dark eyes locking onto his through those slim glasses. "What's up, kid?"

He swallowed, the words sticking in his throat. "It's my mom. She's… she's in the hospital."

Her face shifted—eyes widening, mouth parting slightly. "What?" She set the knife down, slow, deliberate, like she needed something to do with her hands. "Ryuki, what happened?"

"Accident yesterday," he said, staring at the eggs, not her. "Got hit by a car. She's hurt bad—head, face, maybe more. I don't know all of it yet."

"Oh my god," Michiko breathed, pressing a hand to her chest. Her fingers curled against her collarbone, "Is she… okay?"

"Yeah," he said fast, nodding. "Alive. Stable, I think."

She exhaled, shoulders dropping a fraction. "Okay, okay, that's good—she's alive. Then we can hope for her recovery."

She stepped closer, the floor creaking under her bare feet. "You should've called me the moment you know. Middle of the night, anything—I'd have come." Her brows knit, worry etching lines into her face. "And Saki? Does she know?"

"No," he said, sharp. "Told her Mom's working late, back tomorrow. Can't let her know yet—she'd freak, run off to the hospital or something stupid."

"Yeah," Michiko agreed, nodding slow. "She's clingy with you—imagine her with Fumiko hurt." She crossed her arms, "Let's go hospital then.... After breakfast."

"But your work?"

"Forget work," she interrupted, grabbing the knife again. "I own the damn place. I'll take days off—perk of being the boss. We'll hit the hospital after we eat."

He nodded, "Okay."

She cracked an egg into a bowl, glancing at him. "Help me whisk these. Kids'll be starving soon—Saki's already loud enough without an empty stomach."

Ryuki grabbed a fork, stirring the eggs as the pan sizzled.

----

I'm so glad you loved it! Let's expand Chapter 9 further, picking up right after the kitchen scene and weaving in Michiko changing clothes, getting the car ready, and heading to the hospital with Ryuki—all while sticking to your original outline. I'll keep the same detailed, dialogue-heavy style, letting their personalities shine through with real, human moments. No word limits, just a natural flow to carry us to the hospital doorstep. Here we go!

---

The kitchen smelled of omelets and butter, plates stacked on the counter as Michiko wiped her hands on a towel. Saki's laughter rang from the living room, tangled with Yuta's over-the-top sound effects and Asuka's exasperated "Stop cheating!" Ryuki leaned against the counter.

Michiko tossed the towel aside, glancing at him with a half-smile. "Alright, breakfast's ready. You wanna wrangle the kids, or should I?"

"I'll do it," he said, pushing off the counter. He stepped into the living room, raising his voice over the chaos. "Food's up! Come eat, or it's mine."

Saki spun around mid-tag, eyes wide. "No way, little brother! I'm starving!" She bolted past him, Asuka hot on her heels with a grumbled, "You're such a pig." Yuta dropped his controller, dragging Ruby along. "C'mon, Ruby—omelets beat racing any day!"

Ruby smiled shyly, following without a word. They piled into the kitchen, grabbing plates, chattering over each other as Michiko handed out forks.

Michiko caught Ryuki's eyes, nodding, "Gonna change quick. Keep 'em from burning the place down, yeah?"

"Sure," he said, stepping in to eat a piece of omelet before Saki claimed it all. Michiko slipped out, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood.

She ducked into her room, the door clicking shut. The space was tidy—bed made, a single photo of Yuta and Asuka grinning on the nightstand. She peeled off the tank top, tossing it onto a chair, the thin straps sliding free from her shoulders. Her skin prickled in the cool air, the faint outline of her ribs showing as she stretched. She grabbed a blouse from the closet—white, sleeveless, buttons down the front—slipping it on and fastening it over a simple bra. The fabric hugged her chest, looser at the waist.

Next, the shorts. She shimmied out of them, denim rasping against her thighs, and stepped into a pair of tailored black pants—nothing fancy, just clean lines that flowed down her legs, brushing her ankles, then ran a brush through her hair, pinning it back into a loose bun. A quick glance in the mirror—glasses straight, earrings glinting—and she was done.

Back in the kitchen, the kids were scraping plates clean. Michiko clapped her hands. "Alright, troops—school time. Yuta, Asuka, get your bags. Saki, you too. Um, Ruby is already ready."

Yuta groaned, sprawling dramatically across the table. "Do we have to? I'd rather stay here!"

"Yeah," Asuka chimed in, crossing her arms. "Why's Ryuki is skipping?"

"'Cause I said so," Michiko shot back, voice firm but teasing. "I'm the boss here. Move it, or no dessert tonight."

They grumbled but shuffled off, dragging their feet. Saki stayed put, tugging Ryuki's sleeve again. "I don't wanna go. What if Mother comes home early?"

"She won't," Ryuki said, prying her fingers loose. "Go to school, or I'm not talking to you all day."

Her eyes widened, horrified. "You mean it?"

"Dead serious," he said, staring her down. She huffed, stomping off to grab her bag, muttering, "You're so mean, little brother."

Ruby slipped out quietly, her schoolbag already on, no fuss. Michiko raised a brow at Ryuki. "You're good at that—blackmail's a talent."

"Had to be," he said, shrugging. "She's stubborn as hell."

Michiko grabbed her keys from a hook. "C'mon, let's get the car."

They stepped outside, the morning air crisp against Ryuki's face. Michiko's car sat in the driveway. She unlocked it with a beep, sliding into the driver's seat as Ryuki climbed in beside her.

She turned the key, the engine humming to life. "Seatbelt," she said, buckling hers. Ryuki fumbled with his, the click loud in the quiet. She pulled out, the car rolling smooth down the street, tires humming against asphalt.

Ryuki stared out the window, houses blurring past. "Never been in a car before," he said, half to himself.

Michiko glanced at him, surprised. "Really? Not even once?"

"Nope," he said, watching a red truck zip by. "Not in… before, either." He caught himself—almost said past life. She didn't need that mess.

"Huh," she said, turning a corner, "First time for everything. You like it?"

"It's… weird," he admitted, gripping the seat as the car swayed. "Kinda cool, though."

She chuckled, "Wait till we hit traffic—less cool then." Her hands flexed on the wheel, "You nervous? About seeing her?"

"Yeah," he said,"Hate hospitals. In the… game—" He stopped, cursing inwardly, what's wrong with him almost saying the stuff should be secret. "I mean, just hate 'em. Bad stuff happens there."

Michiko's brow furrowed, but she didn't thought much. "I get it. They're cold, sterile. But she's alive—that's what counts. We'll get her through this."

He nodded, staring ahead as the city thickened—cars honking, buildings rising. "Yeah. Just… wanna see her."

"You will," she said, "Soon."

The hospital loomed ahead, a white block against the sky. Michiko parked, the engine ticking as it cooled. Ryuki stepped out, the pavement solid under his feet, and sighed. Here we go. Michiko locked the car, her heels clicking as she joined him.

"Ready?" she asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Not really," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But let's go in."

Ryuki had already called at hospital about his arrivals. The excuse the police informed was real since he got call after he told Michiko at morning.

After they went in, they asked nurse and she told them room no, and treatment money.

Michiko pulled out her wallet, sliding a card across. "Put it all on this." The nurse processed it, handing back a receipt.

They took the elevator . Third floor, Room 2. Ryuki pushed the door open, heart thudding. Fumiko lay there, eyes closed, bandages wrapping her head and face. Bruises mottled her skin, but her chest rose and fell—slow, steady. Alive.

"She's sleeping," he whispered, stepping back.

Michiko rested a hand on his shoulder. "What do you want to do?"

"Wait," he said, eyes still on Fumiko. "Till she wakes."

"I'm staying too," she said, squeezing gently. "Right here with you."

He glanced at her, "Thanks," he murmured. "You're… good. Too good."

She smiled, soft but real. "Just good enough, kid. Let's wait."

---

An hour ticked by, slow and heavy. A doctor stepped out—Yu Qingxue, sharp-eyed and calm, a sub-heroine Ryuki didn't expected to see her this soon.

"She'll wake soon," she said, handing him a report. "But needs more treatment."

After few things she told, she left.