squelching | memshare: it's no fun if you're not scared.

The hospital hallways are practically deserted at night. It's easy enough to browse the patient records, select your toy for the night, and make your way to the correct room. Unseen by any of the staff working the nightshift, you creep up to Sakisaka Fuminori's bed, drip, drip, dripping slime on the otherwise pristine bedsheets — and wait for him to scream at the sight of your hideous body when he wakes up from his sleep.

But that is not what happens.

The man exhales, eyes wide as he stares at you without a hint of fear. In fact, it's quite the opposite. He gazes at you steadily with an emotion that you cannot identify at all.

Interesting.

"Aren't you scared?" you ask.

"Who are you?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Although, you suppose that reaction by itself is something of an answer. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Saya. I'm looking for my dad." You tilt your head, watching him. The man appears to be deep in thought, but as interesting as his reaction is – it's also not at all what you came here for. "... It's no fun if you're not scared."

You pull away from his bedside, having decided to leave.

"–Wait!"

But you don't get very far before he's calling out to you, like he wants you to stay.

You pause, turning back to stare at him expectantly. The man does not say anything, visibly struggling to find the words, so you try to do a little prompting. "... Well?"

That, at least, seems enough to get him talking.

"I shouldn't do this to a girl, but you're the only one I can ask," he finally says. "Will you let me hold your hand?"

You do nothing to mask the look of complete and utter confusion on your face. This is not at all what you came here for, but – still. Still. Perhaps you could still have some fun tonight. Smiling, you approach his bedside again and extend one of your appendages. "You're strange," you say. "No one's ever asked me anything like that before."

Carefully, as though you are someone to be cherished, the man takes your hand in his. Tears gather at the corners of his eyes.

"... This is the first time in weeks that I've touched someone and felt them as human."

But that can't be, because you aren't human. There is not one inch of your body that even looks human, much less feels like one. But the man continues to speak, seemingly oblivious of this fact.

"I can't touch anyone else. I was in an accident, and as a side effect of the surgery, I can't see people as human anymore."

And suddenly, it makes perfect sense that he would see someone inhumane like you as human.

"Hmm... How mysterious," you say, gently winding your fingers around his. "You're interesting. Can I come back tomorrow night?"

It's a little funny, you think, how eager he looks when he immediately starts nodding. "Yes, of course!" he exhales. "But are you sure it's okay?"

"Don't worry," you reply, smiling. "The night belongs to me."