Soryu kicked open the door to his home, the rusty hinges of it screaming in protest before giving way, and sprinted inside. There was blood everywhere — not only on the stranger but himself. Even his socks were soaked in blood. Soryu quickly got to the side of his bed and laid the stranger down on it. Before stripping off their layers, he hesitated and noticed a wooden handle jutting out from the stranger's stomach.
"A knife? A fucking knife? How in the hell did you manage to stab yourself?"
He had no time to waste. He didn't pull out the knife but instead opted to cut around the clothing the stranger was wearing with a pocket knife of his own. Making quick work, he prepped a wad of gauze and some alcohol to the side, and a lighter. He would have to make quick work to cauterize their wound before they would bleed out.
Soryu grimaced, knowing the gruesome patchwork he was about to perform was not going to look pleasant.
"Alright, here goes nothing."
With a disgustingly wet squelch, he pulled the knife out as fast as he possibly could. Blood began to spray from the wound like a garden hose. He quickly pulled the parted flesh of the wound together and took out his lighter and began burning the skin until it fused together. The stranger's skin made a slight sizzle as he worked. Slowly but surely, the bleeding stopped. After which, he took his alcohol and poured some onto the gauze and lightly dabbed some alcohol on the cauterized wound. Infection was just as deadly as a flesh wound, if not even more.
Soryu stood up and took a step back, admiring his crude yet adequate patch job. It wasn't pretty, was probably going to leave a scar, but hey, bet they wouldn't complain that they were alive instead of lying on the ground bleeding out helplessly.
"Are they even still alive?"
He looked towards the mask of the stranger. The closed, expressionless eyes contained within didn't give him a clear picture of what they looked like, not to mention his fix for the gas mask blocked his view a little.
"I suppose I could fix their gas mask later, with some plastic and my lighter," he said to himself.
"I wonder..."
Soryu moved his still-shaky hands towards the stranger's mask and loosened the straps that held it in place, and with a tug, pulled it off. The face he was presented with was that of a short black-haired female. Her haircut was just above her ears — no doubt would long hair get in the way of wearing that mask and her field of vision. Her face was surprisingly clean considering the circumstances. However, the toxic air that had breached her mask was present on the top half of her face, as her forehead and eyelids were red and her skin was peeling off, but probably not her lungs. Though she looked super unkempt, Soryu didn't really look that good either. He never really managed to find a mirror in this place and didn't have the luxury of having other people to judge his appearance.
"Oh right, I nearly forgot. Need to make sure she's actually still alive."
He took off his SCBA system and raised the rough, ragged hood he was wearing and moved his ear towards her chest.
Faint breathing. That was good — so she was still alive.
Excitement-filled energy spread throughout Soryu's body. Finally, another living person he could talk to — well, except now of course. Her injuries were too great for her to even be conscious right now.
Or so Soryu thought.
Soryu walked around excitedly. He needed to prepare something for his guest, and so he went over to his storage shelves, before remembering something he had been saving for an occasion.
"Oh right, I have some wine. Maybe I should give her a glass of that stuff. Probably will dull the pain and—"
He heard the sound of shuffling from behind him.
In a split-second decision, he took his Type 99 Arisaka from his storage shelf, flipped the safety off, cycled the action, and pointed it at none other than the stranger he just saved — holding her injury with her off hand and in the other the knife he had vigorously tugged out of her stomach was gripped tightly in her palm, her arm outstretched
They stayed like that for a few moments, before Soryu realize she wasn't too much of a threat.
Soryu lowered his rifle, before nervously muttering the words:
"If you put that knife down, I can get you something to eat."
Silence.
Fuck, probably not an amazing thing to say to someone holding a knife, especially considering that he just pointed a loaded firearm at her.
"Sorry, I can see how you're not exactly in the mood for pleasantries, considering you're in a whole shit-ton of pain. However, I got some stuff that can numb it for you."
Even more radio silence from the girl in front of him. She was biting her lip and her brow was furrowed — no doubt trying to hide the amount of agony she was in.
"My name is Kato Soryu. What is yours?"
The stranger looked at him with incredible distrust. Her eyes moved towards his gun and to her knife, Finally she dropped it and in painful, drawn-out breaths muttered the words:
"I am Orio Arika."