Vomiting Blood on Stage: The Super Express Car 7 Lie
Blurb:
Seven years of smiling through everything—that's all Takashi ever had. Told he lacked "star quality" at his debut audition, he built himself into the ever-bright idol of Super Express through sheer willpower, hiding exhaustion, pain, and doubt behind a perfect stage smile. Now, on the first day of their biggest national tour yet, that mask is starting to crack.
A burning throat. A cough that won't stop. And finally, blood—bright red against his palm, impossible to explain away.
With tw
Vomiting Blood on Stage: The Super Express Car 7 Lie - Ambulance Night: A Body Beyond Its Limits and the Restart of Bonds
The hotel at midnight was cold and silent.
Only the fluorescent lights in the hallway cast their pale white glow across the floor. Fatigue hung heavy on bodies that had just finished the Fukuoka performance. Takashi stood alone in front of the sink in his room.
(Not again. My throat...)
The taste of iron he'd swallowed back countless times during the show. Under the stage lights, he'd danced through it all with a smile. The fans' cheers still echoed deep in his ears. But now, the face reflected in the mirror was so pale anyone would notice. His skin, already light, seemed almost translucent under the fluorescent glow. All color had long since drained from his lips.
*Cough.*
The cough came.
No—it was too heavy to call a cough. Something surged up from the pit of his stomach. A burning heat burst at the back of his throat. *Cough, cough, hack.* It wouldn't stop. He couldn't breathe.
Takashi braced his hands against the sink. His fingertips registered the cold of the porcelain. The bottom of his stomach clenched tight.
*Hack.*
A lukewarm liquid spilled from his mouth.
Red.
Bright red blood splattered across the white sink. Drip, drip—it fell with a sound. It splashed onto the mirror too. Red speckles dotted his own face.
(Ah. Again.)
The thought drifted through Takashi's mind.
(This time, it's a lot.)
Another burning mass rose from the depths of his stomach. *Gurgle.* Blood overflowed through the gaps between the hand pressed to his mouth. The red liquid traced down between his fingers. Warm. His own blood, and yet so warm.
The basin of the sink was staining red. Blood swirled and disappeared down the drain.
(It won't stop.)
A numbness spread through the back of his skull. The edges of his vision blurred white. Strength drained from his knees.
*Buckling.*
His body tilted.
Takashi let go of the sink. No—his hands wouldn't obey anymore. His fingertips slid along the porcelain edge.
(I'm falling.)
The moment he thought it, his body crumpled to the floor.
*Thud.*
The cold of the tile pressed against his cheek. The world spun. The ceiling light seemed so far away.
(Kai said it, didn't he.)
Kai's voice surfaced from the depths of his consciousness.
*"If something happens, I'll handle it."*
(Ah. Now I can finally—)
(I won't cause everyone any more trouble.)
A strange sense of relief spread through his chest. Sensation drained from his body, bit by bit. The cold in his fingertips, the warmth of the blood—all of it fading.
(Sorry, everyone.)
That was his final thought.
And then, his consciousness fell into darkness.
* * *
At that same moment, in the room next door.
Haru was on his bed, looking at his phone.
The youngest member of Super Express. Car 14. Fourteen years old. A small boy, still carrying traces of childishness. The other members doted on him like a little brother—he was always the one being protected.
He'd been checking tomorrow's schedule. The screen displayed the travel itinerary sent from the agency.
(Tomorrow there's one interview in the morning. Then rehearsal.)
Haru was a serious boy. Precisely because he was the youngest, he never wanted to be a burden. That was always on his mind.
*Thud.*
Something fell on the other side of the wall.
Haru looked up.
(What was that sound?)
The room next door was Takashi's.
Haru set down his phone. He got off the bed and pressed his ear to the wall.
...*Gurgle. Gurgle.*
A sound like something bubbling underwater.
(Takashi-senpai?)
A bad feeling shot through Haru's chest.
"Takashi-senpai...?"
He called out softly toward the wall. No answer.
Instead—another *gurgle*.
Haru bolted from his room.
The hallway was dead silent. The green glow of the emergency lights floated faintly. Haru stood in front of Takashi's door.
"Takashi-senpai, are you there?"
He knocked.
*Knock, knock.*
No response.
"Takashi-senpai!"
He knocked harder.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
Still nothing.
Haru's heart began to pound.
(Something's wrong. That sound just now—it definitely came from this room.)
Haru called the front desk.
"Um, excuse me. I need someone to open room 1105. Someone might be collapsed inside."
His voice was shaking.
"We'll send someone immediately."
The voice on the other end was calm.
But Haru's heart was anything but.
(Hurry. Please hurry.)
Haru waited in front of the door, as if in prayer.
* * *
Minutes later, hotel staff arrived and unlocked the door.
*Click.*
The moment the door opened, Haru's breath caught.
Takashi lay collapsed in front of the sink.
On his back on the floor. His mouth, his chin, his neck—stained bright red. Blood had spread across the chest of his white T-shirt too. The sink basin was filled with blood. Red speckles splattered across the mirror. A pool of blood had formed on the tile floor.
"Takashi-senpai...?"
Haru's voice cracked.
"Takashi-senpai!!"
Haru ran to him.
Takashi's face was pale as death. His lips were purple, his eyes closed. Haru shook his shoulder.
"Takashi-senpai, wake up! Takashi-senpai!"
No response.
Haru grabbed Takashi's hand.
Cold.
Cold as ice.
"No, no, no..."
Tears spilled from Haru's eyes.
"Someone, call an ambulance! Please call an ambulance!"
Haru shouted at the hotel staff.
A staff member fumbled for their phone.
Haru clutched Takashi's cold hand in both of his.
"Senpai, please. Wake up. Please, wake up."
Tears streamed down his face. They mixed with the blood staining Takashi's hand.
"Senpai, I still haven't... I haven't been able to give anything back. You've helped me so much. And I still haven't returned any of it."
Haru's voice broke with sobs.
"Please. Don't die. Takashi-senpai. Please. Please."
Haru kept crying, clutching Takashi's hand.
His voice echoed through the silent hallway.
* * *
Kai woke to the sound of Haru crying.
From the next room. No—from farther away. From the hallway.
Kai leaped out of bed. His medium-short chestnut hair, usually softly styled, was a mess. The small gold piercing in his left ear glinted dully in the darkness.
(Takashi's room.)
Kai's chest went ice-cold.
He bolted from his room.
In the hallway, Takashi's door stood open. Haru's sobbing spilled out from inside.
"Haru!"
Kai rushed into the room.
And saw it.
The blood-soaked sink. Takashi collapsed on the floor. Haru, crying and screaming.
For a moment, Kai couldn't speak.
(Takashi...)
His legs locked up.
But he shook his head immediately.
(Now's the time to move.)
Kai knelt beside Takashi.
"Takashi, Takashi, can you hear me?! Takashi!"
Kai slapped his cheek.
No response.
Kai pressed his fingers to Takashi's neck.
The pulse was weak. But it was there.
"Where's the ambulance?!"
"The staff is calling. But it's not here yet..."
Haru's voice was trembling.
Kai pulled Haru into his arms.
"Haru, you did good. You're the one who found him. Thank you. It's okay now. I'm here. I've got him."
Kai's voice was gentle. But his eyes were dead serious.
"Kai-senpai... is Takashi-senpai going to die?"
Haru's voice was a sob.
"I won't let him. I absolutely won't let him die."
Kai said it firmly.
(I'll protect him. This time, no matter what.)
Kai gripped Takashi's cold hand.
* * *
Ryouga and Yuuki also rushed over when they heard the commotion.
Ryouga stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move. His black hair was worn slightly long, bangs swept to the side. His narrow black eyes stared fixedly at the blood-soaked sink. He always held his back perfectly straight—the group's leader. Ryouga of Car 3. Around his left wrist was an old bracelet whose story he'd never told anyone.
(So this is reality.)
Ryouga murmured inwardly.
(This is the result of me prioritizing the tour.)
The color drained from Ryouga's face.
Yuuki ran to Haru's side. His bright brown hair was styled in a soft, fluffy mash. His large, dark eyes were brimming with tears. He had dimples when he smiled—the group's beloved klutz. Yuuki of Car 5.
"Haru-kun, are you okay? Haru-kun, stay with me."
Yuuki wrapped his arms tightly around Haru's shaking shoulders.
"Yuuki-senpai... Takashi-senpai, he's..."
Haru buried his face in Yuuki's chest and broke down.
"It's okay, it's okay. Takashi-kun is going to be fine. The ambulance will be here soon."
Yuuki held Haru and spoke as if convincing himself too.
(It's okay. It's okay. He'll be fine. Absolutely fine.)
But inside, Yuuki's heart was pitch black.
(I knew. I noticed something was wrong with Takashi-kun before anyone else. And I just laughed it off. It's my fault. If I'd done things properly—)
Tears spilled from Yuuki's eyes too.
* * *
The ambulance arrived.
The siren wailed through the midnight hotel. Red lights swept in circles across the hallway walls.
Paramedics rushed into the room.
"What's the situation?!"
"He collapsed at the sink. Massive hematemesis. Unconscious. Weak pulse."
Kai explained calmly to the paramedics.
(I have to keep it together.)
He told himself.
The paramedics efficiently lifted Takashi onto a stretcher. They fitted an oxygen mask and started an IV.
"Will a family member ride along?"
"I'll go."
Kai answered instantly.
"No, I'm going too."
Ryouga stepped forward.
"Ryouga, you handle the hotel staff and contact the agency. And the other members too."
Kai said, looking Ryouga in the eye.
Ryouga started to argue. But when he saw Kai's eyes, he closed his mouth.
"...Understood. I'll make the calls. I'll come to the hospital afterward."
Ryouga gave a small nod.
"Yuuki, take care of Haru. You come to the hospital later too."
"Yeah, got it. I'll look after Haru-kun."
Yuuki nodded, wiping his tears.
"Kai-senpai, please take care of Takashi-senpai."
Haru bowed to Kai, still crying.
"Leave it to me. I'll bring him back. I promise."
Kai patted Haru's head.
Then he climbed into the ambulance.
* * *
Inside the ambulance.
Kai sat beside Takashi.
On the stretcher, Takashi lay limp. An oxygen mask on his face, an IV tube in his arm. His complexion was still paper-white.
Kai held his hand.
Cold.
So cold it was hard to believe this was the hand of the man who'd burned so brightly on stage just hours ago.
(Takashi. Why did you let it get this far?)
Kai's chest felt like it would tear apart.
(If I'd taken you to the hospital sooner—)
(If I'd pushed harder for you to rest—)
(If I hadn't believed your "I'm fine"—)
Regret poured in, one after another.
"Takashi... please, just open your eyes. If you're gone, I..."
Kai bowed his head, still gripping Takashi's hand.
A single tear fell onto the back of Takashi's hand.
* * *
Fukuoka City General Hospital.
The automatic doors of the emergency entrance slid open, and the stretcher was rushed inside.
"Male, twenty years old. Hemorrhagic shock from hematemesis. Decreased consciousness. Low blood pressure. Straight to the treatment room!"
Doctors and nurses surrounded the stretcher.
"Family members, please wait here."
Kai stood frozen in front of the treatment room.
The door closed.
A red light came on.
*IN TREATMENT*
Kai braced a hand against the wall and hung his head.
(Takashi...)
His shoulders were shaking.
* * *
Some time later, Ryouga, Yuuki, and Haru arrived at the hospital.
The three of them joined Kai in the hallway outside the treatment room.
"Kai, how's Takashi?"
Ryouga's voice was hoarse.
"Still in treatment. The doctor hasn't told us anything yet."
Kai answered without lifting his hand from the wall.
Ryouga stared at the door of the treatment room.
Yuuki was holding Haru's hand.
Haru's tears still hadn't dried.
The four of them sat down in a row on the long bench in the hallway.
No one spoke.
Silence.
The hospital corridor was strangely busy for the middle of the night. Nurses hurried past. Somewhere in the distance, a machine alarm beeped.
But around the four of them, time seemed to have stopped.
(If I'd moved sooner—)
Kai braced his hand against the wall and hung his head.
"...It's my fault."
Kai murmured
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