Motoki realized now that he was an idiot.

He had told Mamoru to try new things - that he was in a rut and that he needed to do something drastic in order to break out of it. Motoki had assumed that the man would have a one night stand or fly to China or something else dangerous and unexpected but still not deadly.

Instead, Mamoru had gotten a motorcycle.

As Mamoru glared at him from the hospital bed, his leg in traction and half of his face bandaged, Motoki could do little more than shrug.

“Don’t look at me.”