Chapter Text
There was something about being stuck in bed that made him want to claw his eyes out. Enijn twists the blanket between his fingers, counting the cracks across the ceiling. There were roughly 16, all different lengths with varying severity. A part of him wishes one would just finish cracking so that anything would happen. Alto had left hours ago now, leaving him alone with just himself in this small corner of a clinic with a very loud woman. He’d stolen an extra sip from the man’s canteen earlier, perhaps this was his revenge.
He was told to stay in bed, that rest and proper medication would get him back on his feet eventually, but he never was good at staying still. His fingers twitch as he restarts his count, looking for any he may have missed.
He thinks going insane might be more eventful.
His eyes flicker to the curtain and he strains his ears to listen for any sign of Alto returning. He’d left suddenly, explaining that he had to go to the library in town before they could leave. Enjin hadn’t responded because he’d been too caught up in the fact the man had implied they’d be leaving together. Now he really wished he’d asked to go with him now, anything other than sitting here.
He’s never seen a real library before, sure the orphanage had its small collection of ragged books, but the majority were picture books or something none of the kids there could ever hope to read. His own reading skills were severely limited as he only really had himself as a teacher. Most of what he knew he picked up from some other kid on the off chance they could read.
To see an actual library would be something else. The thought of it merely makes the frustration occupying in his mind grow. If he wasn’t stuck in this stupid bed maybe he could’ve gone. He doesn’t actually think he’s not allowed to leave the bed at all, but the one time he’d tried for a reason outside of going to the bathroom he’d been carted back in here rather quickly. He’s a little annoyed about it. His legs weren’t the issue, it was his damn lungs! He could still walk!
Enjin huffs, scowling when a cough bubbles in his
throat at the action. He checks the curtain again, and can just barely hear the sound of the doctor lady shuffling around in the main clinic area. He’s only spoken to her a few times in the last few days he’s been here, and it mostly pertained to his health. She was a little scary with all the screeching that seemed to accompany her with every new patient. Alto seemed to trust her, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he trusts her. He still thinks something may be seriously wrong with the man. Didn’t even know his name until the third day here.
No wonder you don’t trust me, I didn’t even tell you my name!
Enjin still thinks he is an idiot.
He twists in bed, throwing his feet over the edge so that they’re dangling a few inches from the floor. Alto wasn’t here, and the old lady was in the front area of the clinic. It’s not going to kill him to walk around, and they can’t get upset about what they don’t know.
His feet hit the floor, and a shiver rushes up his spine. The chilly tile is nothing compared to the polluted zone he’d wandered into, so makes his way across the space, careful to be quiet. It’s not very difficult, he’s used to sneaking around, but the fact the lady is also losing her hearing is a good advantage. He pads across the floor, tugging gently on the curtain around his small area.
He’s in a room just off the main clinic, and he knows Alice is that way, which leaves him with the door to the left. He doesn’t have a clue what's behind it, and that mystery is what urges him on, sneaking down the hall, before grabbing the knob. It twists with a resounding squeak that makes him wince. The door opens with a similar noise, the hinges old and in dire need of some oil.
The room is sort of a mess. The air is stale and smells faintly of old disinfectant. It looks something like a storage room, but there’s also a handful of personal items strewn about from books to pictures. Even some clothing was scattered around. Patient reports also sit in organized stacks on the small desk shoved into the far corner.
Enjin walks further in, eyeing the photos, before shifting toward the pile of books stacked neatly on a small shelf. His fingers run down the worn spines, over words he could never hope to recognize. It reminded him of the shelves back home. Of course the books on this shelf have words he’s never seen before, far different from the storybooks found in the orphanage.
Knowledge was something that’s always considered a privilege on the ground, one he’d never really had access to. One of the older kids there was particularly good at reading. She was kind, and the little ones all loved her. She’d read stories to all of them; would tell them like she was in a play with all the theatrics. Using silly voices and waving her arms around.
She’d been one of the first sold.
His hand jerks away from the books at the thought, his breath catching in his throat. He’s coughing into his arm again, lungs burning. Now his chest aches, and not just because of his battered lungs. He swallows, taking a step back. He should’ve just stayed in bed.
“You like to read?” Enjin has to throw his hands over his mouth to ward off the impending yelp, whipping around. He meets red eyes and feels his own widen in response. Shit, when had he gotten back? All that time waiting, but the moment he gets up and does something he’s not supposed to, Alto pops back up like he was never gone.
“Uh, I don’t know,” he mutters, dropping his hands. His fingers find the hem of the shirt he’s wearing, running his fingers over the stitching. Alto seems to consider him for a moment.
“Can you read?” This man’s bluntness was infuriating at times.
“…Not really,” he confesses, and he can feel his cheeks burn. Before, he had considered his illiteracy an advantage. All the kids who could tended to get picked out first, so he’d been safe. It was fine then, but now? Staring up at this man who was clearly intelligent to some degree, even if he acted like an idiot sometimes, shame burned within his chest.
He really should’ve just stayed in bed.
Alto studies him for a moment, and the weight of his gaze is far too much to bear. It reminds him of a person looking over a product before deciding to buy it, or deciding if it was too worthless to be of use. Being watched was making his skin crawl, eyes glued to the floor, glaring at a chip in the tile.
“Do you want to learn?” Any thoughts in his head come to a resounding halt, even his breathing ceases. The chip in the floor was suddenly far less interesting. He dares to lift his head and meet the man’s eyes once again.
Learn to read?
It’s something he never even considered. The kind of thing so far out of reach that merely hoping it would happen would only leave you yearning for the impossible. He doesn’t even have the words. Alto looks away from him, stepping further into the room until he’s stood right next to him. Enjin stumbles back when the man kneels down, looking over the stack of books.
“Most of these are old medical textbooks. Anatomy, pathology, physiology, and the like. Probably a bit difficult to start with, but something’s better than nothing.” Enjin watches him pick up several of the books, tucking two under his arm, while shifting through the other ones.
“I- I can help,” he stammers, and curses himself for his wobbly words. Alto looks at him, before a smile tugs on his lips, and he holds out two of the books. They’re heavier than he expected them to be, but he wraps his arms around them to ensure they don’t drop to the floor. Alto grabs two more, before standing back up.
“I got dinner while I was out too, we can look over them while we eat. I’m sure Alice won’t mind, she probably hasn’t touched them in years.” Enjin’s truly at a loss of words, doesn’t say anything even as he follows the man out the room, and back towards the small corner he’d been residing in the last few days.
Alto holds the curtain open for him, and he slips inside, carefully pushing his books onto the small table, before clambering back up onto the bed. Alto sets his own books down, before stepping back out, and Enjin’s left alone once more. He mulls over the last few minutes, unsure of what to make of them. He stares at the stack of books with something like wonder. The idea of actually being able to read them makes his heart thud in his chest. His fingers are twitching again, but he can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous or excited.
At the same time a smell drifts into the room, Alto ducking inside with a paper bag of something that smells absolutely mouth watering. The only things he’s eaten since being here are nutrient bars because he’s ‘malnourished and has to get his nutrients somehow’. That did not smell like a nutrient bar. Alto sets the bag down, and Enjin refrains from snatching it away and devouring whatever’s inside. He instead waits impatiently as the man reaches into it, and pulls out something wrapped in newspaper.
Alto’s wearing a knowing grin when he holds it up.
“You ever had a burger before?”
…
Enjin’s licking his fingers, sucking off the grease that he definitely didn’t want to get all over the lady’s books. He thinks he’d go deaf if he was ever the victim of her yelling.
He’s scanning over the pictures in this textbook, noting the amount of detail in the drawings. It’s a human anatomy textbook, one that Alto thought would be a decent starting point because of the amount of diagrams and drawn explanations.
‘It’s easier to remember something when you know what it looks like.’
Even if half these words didn’t make sense at first, the man took his time to explain them. He seemed fairly knowledgeable in the subject, but he also suggested that Alice could help him understand the other books that involved the more complex scientific topics. Enjin didn’t have the nerve to explain how that woman freaked him out, so he had just shrugged.
He drags his fingers across the page, going over all the intricate lines. Humans are pretty cool, he thinks. How they function with so many smaller parts at work all in tandem, and even if one of those parts breaks, most of the time the body can heal itself. His fingers find the front of his shirt, tugging lightly, right over that ache in his chest that makes the guilt, the anger, the sadness, feel so heavy.
Maybe his body can fix him eventually too.