©NovelBuddy
Renegades: Battlegrounds.-Chapter 43: Waiting Room I
The city passed by in blurred streaks of light.
Streetlamps. Neon signs. Traffic signals bleeding together through rain-streaked windows.
Ren sat in the back seat, staring at his hands.
Blood.
Dried blood hiding beneath his fingernails. Smeared across his palms. Staining the bandages Aoi had wrapped around his knuckles—how long ago had that been? Yesterday? A lifetime?
Not all of it was his.
Some of it was Aoi’s. From when he’d pressed his jacket against her head wound. From when he’d held her good hand while they waited for the ambulance.
Some were from the bikers’. From the punches. The elbow strikes. The brutal, desperate violence.
"Whose blood is this? "
"How much of it is mine? "
"How much belongs to people I hurt? "
His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Matsuno sat beside him, silent. Watching.
The Third Division captain had already cleaned the blood from his own head. The bat strike had left nothing more than a shallow cut—no longer bleeding. Nothing serious for someone like him.
"First time?"
Ren didn’t look up.
"What?"
Matsuno’s voice remained calm. "First time someone got hurt because of you. In a fight you started. "
Ren’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t start—"
"You intervened," Matsuno cut in. "That counts. Doesn’t matter if your reasons were good."
He continued evenly. "You fought those bikers in the park yesterday. Saved the girl. Made yourself a target. That’s what started this."
Ren wanted to argue. Wanted to say it wasn’t his fault. That he’d done the right thing but the words wouldn’t come because deep down he knew Matsuno was right.
"I saved Aoi. "
"And because I saved her, they came after her. "
"Her broken arm. Her bleeding head. Her tears. "
"That’s on me. "
The silence stretched.
Tatsuya drove smoothly through evening traffic, rain pattering softly against the roof as the engine hummed beneath them.
"You’ve got guts," Matsuno said at last. "I’ll give you that. Fourteen against one? Most people would’ve run."
Ren’s voice came out quiet. "I couldn’t leave her."
"I know." Matsuno looked at him directly. "That’s what got you both hurt."
He leaned back slightly. "Heroism without backup is just martyrdom. You understand that?"
Ren finally met his eyes. "What was I supposed to do? Let them hurt her? Stand by and watch?"
"No," Matsuno replied. "You call for backup. You don’t charge in alone against impossible odds."
After a pause, he added, "That’s what Sakuratei is for. You’re not alone. You don’t have to be."
"I’m not in Sakuratei."
A faint smile tugged at Matsuno’s mouth. "You think we save every random kid who gets jumped?"
He tapped the window lightly. "Hasegawa’s been watching you. He saw the choice you made tonight."
The car turned a corner. Blue-and-white hospital signs came into view.
"Hospital," Tatsuya called from the driver’s seat.
"Good," Matsuno said. "Park close to the entrance."
The car pulled into the lot and came to a stop near the emergency room doors.
Matsuno stepped out, then looked back at Ren. "Come on. Let’s see how she’s doing."
Emergency Room Waiting Area,
8:17 PM.
The hospital waiting room was everything Ren remembered and worse.
The white walls, white floors, white ceiling. Fluorescent lights too bright, humming with that electric buzz that made his headache worse.
Plastic chairs bolted to the floor in neat rows. A TV mounted in the corner playing the news on mute. A vending machine in the corner, half its selection slots empty.
The smell hit him hardest, antiseptic and bleach and something underneath that he didn’t want to identify. Sickness. Injury. Fear.
People were scattered around the room. A mother rocking a feverish child. An elderly man pressing an ice pack to his head. A young couple whispering to each other, hands locked tight.
Normal emergencies. Normal injuries.
Not gang violence. Not fourteen against one. Not broken arms and head wounds and blood pooling on pavement.
Matsuno approached the reception desk. The nurse looked up, saw his white Sakuratei jacket and her expression flickered. Something between recognition and wariness but she was professional.
"Can I help you?"
"A young woman brought in about fifteen minutes ago," Matsuno said smoothly. "Aoi Kanzaki. Broken arm, head injury. We’re here to check on her."
The nurse typed quickly. "Relation?"
"Family friends. We were nearby when it happened."
The nurse’s eyes flicked to Ren standing behind Matsuno, covered in blood and bruises, barely able to stand.
"She’s in surgery," the nurse said carefully. "The broken arm required pins and plates. No visitors are allowed during surgery."
"Understood. When can we expect an update?"
"Could be an hour. Could be three. Head wounds are unpredictable."
She glanced at Ren again. "Your friend should probably be seen too. He’s bleeding."
Ren followed her gaze to his ankle. Blood soaked through his sock, dripping onto the clean white floor.
"I’m fine. " He managed
"He’ll wait," Matsuno said calmly. "Thank you."
He guided Ren to a cluster of chairs in the far corner, away from the other patients. Away from curious eyes and they sat.
Matsuno relaxed almost immediately, his legs stretching out, arms crossed, like he had sat in hospital waiting rooms a hundred times before.
Ren sat stiffly, every muscle screaming. His ribs. His jaw. His shoulder where the bat had connected. His ankle throbbing but none of it compared to the weight in his chest.
"Aoi’s in surgery. "
"And it’s because of me. "
They sat in silence for several minutes.
The TV played footage of a weather report. Rain expected through the weekend. Cherry blossom viewing season extended due to unusual weather patterns.
The mother with the feverish child was called back. A doctor appeared, spoke quietly with the elderly man, and led him away.
Just Ren and Matsuno were now left in the corner of the waiting room.
Matsuno finally spoke, breaking the ice. "So you’re the famous Kaito’s brother that’s been making the waves in town. "
Ren swallowed. "Yeah."
"I knew your brother. " Matsuno said quietly. "Before he left. "
Ren’s head snapped up. "You did?"
Matsuno nodded slowly, eyes distant. Remembering.







