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It was excruciating.
Checkmate stared upward, as his blurred vision slowly focussed. A sharp pain rain along his wounds, like fire in his nerves and electric in his joints, and his pulse throbbed within his knees, as he strove to keep both legs as still as possible. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, while his breaths came out low and hissed through flared nostrils. The scent of disinfectant flooded the air. He groaned and turned his head.A distorted figure fussed about in the dark room. It loomed over a small stove, with its head almost scraping the ceiling for its height, and a rich aroma of frying meats floated across the small apartment, enough for Checkmate’s mouth to water in anticipation. The figure turned. Checkmate rapidly blinked, until his eyes finally focussed. He saw the smile before he even recognised the form, as Sunshine walked towards the futon and crouched down on the ground, where he carefully placed the bowl of chanpurū. A tear ran down his cheek, as he choked:“You – You saved me?”Sunshine said nothing, as he sat cross-legged beside Checkmate. He fussed about with a few pillows, while gently easing Checkmate into a sitting position, and finally placed a tray across his prone legs, so that he could gaze at the home-cooked meal. Sunshine never met his gaze, but he did take the chopsticks and helped Checkmate with every bite. It brought a blush to his cheeks. He thought to images of other families, with children or the infirm treated with such gentle affection, and a hard lump formed in his throat, as he asked:“W-Why? I acted so cruelly toward you.”“You only acted as I taught,” whispered Sunshine. “I focused so much on making you the strongest Chojin, that I forgot you were just a boy . . . you needed love, attention, and the childhood you were deprived living on the streets. If I saved you, it was because I owed you an apology. I want to do right by you, both as your trainer and . . .”“And as what?”“You’ve always been like a son to me, Checkmate.”Tears fell freely down his cheeks. Checkmate placed a hand around Sunshine’s, as he stopped the chopsticks midway in their ascent for another bite, and – as he slowly turned – he locked eyes with the man that took him from the streets and shaped him into a young man. The memories were not all negative . . . so many shared moments; stories told at his bedside, meals shared side-by-side, laughter even in the darkest moments . . . Checkmate laughed. He brushed away a stray tear, as he nodded low in respect and said:“I have always seen you as a father, too.”A stray tear broke, as Sunshine’s lips trembled. Sunshine lowered his gaze, as large hiccups caused his broad shoulders to lurch, and he bent forward as he wept in earnest, and Checkmate reached for his shoulder and squeezed with a soft touch. He noticed a photograph that took pride of place on a nearby dressing table, taken during his youth with Rex King and with Sunshine placing a hand on both their shoulders. Checkmate swore:“I promise I will get better, so I can make you proud.”He winced in pain as Sunshine threw his arms around him. The embrace was sudden and sincere, as warm yet rough cheeks pressed against his neck, and the wet tears ran onto his bared skin, while Checkmate counted through the pain. They held each other until seconds passed by into minutes. Sunshine pulled away with a staggered sigh and broken laughter, before he reached back for the chopsticks and returned to helping Checkmate eat, and each bite – succulent and made with love – was perfection. Sunshine said with a warm voice:“I’ve always been proud of you, my boy.”