Accidents Happen (OPEN)

"Tanaka! What the hell are you doing?!"

Furious. That was the only way to describe the chiseled, older instructor, whose frustrated gaze was directed toward an in-training Shinigami wearing the men's uniform. Blood was leaking from underneath a palm against his left eye, dribbling down his cheek and neck, even going so far as to stain his kosode. Despite this grievous injury - and practically insulting the Spiritual Arts Academy by staining his uniform - Makoto was all smiles. Usually when someone had their eye practically gouged out, they'd be panicking or groaning in pain. But Makoto was never able to feel pain in the first place, so that sort of thing wasn't in the realm of possibility. What was, however, was the male student opposite from him whose eyes were wide in shock, his Asauchi laying on the ground with blood stained along the tip. When the instructor's eyes move onto the student, he immediately holds his hands up. "S-Sir, I didn't mean to-" His words get cut off by the instructor stomping once on the ground. "Silence, Tsurugi! I told you both to fight as if your lives depended on it. You're not the one who failed here." When he goes to look upon Makoto again, all he does is hold his opposite hand up in a wave and laugh softly. "My mistake, Sensei. I'm just not very good at dodging." The snarl from the instructor shows he didn't like that response very much.

His attention sweeps across the rest of the class. Some have disgusted looks on their faces, others are worried for Makoto. Most, however, had stone cold expressions that exuded proper behavior. "Listen up, all of you! This is what happens when you lack discipline. None of you are expected to be masters at combat, but incidents like this will happen if you're not properly paying attention!" When he looks back to Makoto, the smile's gotten smaller but it's still there. The instructor groans softly and pinches the bridge of his nose, pointing toward the exit of the Academy. "Go. Tend to your wound at the Hospital of the Fourth, and don't come back until you're properly healed!" Makoto bows and promptly heads his way out of the Academy, with a fellow male Shinigami-In-Training escorting him there. A laugh slips out from the man as he lightly nudges Makoto's arm with his elbow. "Man, you sure pissed off that old man! But don't worry, you'll get it eventually." Makoto turns his working eye toward the other and a laugh of his own comes out, but it's empty. Pathetic. Almost soulless. "I'm not sure why you're so concerned, Suzuki-san. I'm hardly worth any effort." When the other student stops walking, Makoto stops himself and tilts his head slightly, confused.

There's a bout of silence between them for a few moments, before Suzuki speaks up. "Listen, Tanaka-san. We've been through this. There's a lot of weight in self-worth. y'know? And you've got a lot of other students that care. Why don't you accept it already?" Annoyed, yet sad, Suzuki turns back to Makoto. All Makoto can do is smile. "Because it's a wasted effort. Concepts such as self-worth, friendship, letting others care about you... I just don't understand it at all." Makoto shakes his head softly, and Suzuki's frown grows bigger. There are no more words exchanged between them as the pair head to the hospital and, after he assists Makoto in walking in and seating himself after checking him in proper, Suzuki leaves to head back to the Academy. Makoto reclines in his seat and focuses his solitary gaze upward at the ceiling. The blood that was previously pouring out of his injured eye has ceased, and the blood upon his kosode has already begun to dry. Before long Makoto's one open eye comes to a close, and he waits for his name to be called by one of numerous doctors in the hospital.