Work Text
[“Will you ever forget about me?”
“Never.”]
- The road to consciousness is a terrible one. Paved in mud with ragged rocks crushed into the surface, it scrapes against the delicate layers of his brain and whisper at him to do something. Which to him, could be anything and nothing at all. Only darkness awaits him here; warmth that coddles his streams of thoughts and wraps its heavy weight against his soul. It fills him with emptiness and he doesn't know what else to do than to accept it. It is not a choice. It simply is. But the tugging at his mind doesn't stop and the burn of brightness renders him useless against its call. With a sharp twist and a slight pinch, he opens his eyes. He takes in everything at once. The dull, coloured bricks that line the walls, the washed out curtains that cover closed windows, and the overwhelming stench of cleanliness in the air. The off-white sheets covering the bed he's currently laying in. It's obvious he's in some type of hospital. A woman comes into the room- dressed in the typical nurse outfit; dove grey dress and large white overskirt- and picks up a clipboard attached to the door. She sweeps over the room, hastily looking over the window and single bed. Apparently she doesn't notice he's awake, because she marks off something on the clipboard and makes her way to the door. He attempts to speak enough to be noticed, but the noise that comes out of his mouth is so rugged and chapped that it startles her. The nurse immediately looks his away, fumbling with her clipboard as she squeaks and runs out the door. It would be nice if he could just get some answers. He tries not to freak out. Key word: tries, because he can feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest and it's almost to the point where it feels like it's going to jump out. His hand twitches like it wants to grab onto his chest and hold it still, but moving is proving to be more difficult than he thought; his arms lie heavy beside him, feeling too weak to lift up. He leans his head back against the flat pillow beneath him, and observes his surroundings better since right now it's all he's capable of doing. The room is sparsely bare. There's a simple chair to the left of his bedside which has small table next to it, a light stuck on the wall above it, and a yellowing plant in the corner. He spots a clock on the wall opposite of him, the time reading 9:16. It looks a little worse for wear, with the hour hand hanging slightly crooked. There's a creak from the door, and his attention is suddenly grabbed by a new nurse coming in, a male this time. He's whispering to two other men he can't quite make out from where his bed is positioned, and gestures at them to wait outside of the room. The nurse glances over at him and tucks a strand of brown hair behind his ear, smiling flaty at him. If he aims to be reassuring, he's missing the target completely. He walks towards him with silent and steady footsteps, clipboard in hand and watching him with piercing eyes. The colour of them is an unnatural reddish brown, and it makes an uncomfortable weight settle at the bottom of his stomach. The nurse sits on the chair beside his bed, its legs creaking with the weight. “Hello. I'm glad you're awake. This is the longest you've been conscious so far, every other time you've fallen back asleep in under five minutes. I barely got to introduce myself to you. Anyway, here we go again. My name is Akechi Goro. You are currently staying at the Creakwater Hill hospital for the Insane,” Akechi says calmly, like he hasn't dropped a massive bombshell on him. “I’m the head nurse here, and also your exclusive nurse. Consider yourself lucky.” Akechi teases him with a smile, and he holds himself together enough to not vomit all over Akechi's neatly pressed uniform. An insane asylum? He doesn't know what the fuck he's doing here, laying in a bed of white sheets smelling like decay- laying in the bed of an insane asylum. He's not crazy, he isn't, he isn't. So he certainly does not deserve to be here, locked up like all the other lunatics trapped inside this hellhole of a building. He tries to explain this to Akechi but all he does is shush him politely. “It's okay. You're in a safe place now. I understand the transition can be difficult for most, but I assure you we will do our best to care for you in your time of need. Now, please answer these questions to the best of your ability. It is essential that we know what we're dealing with.” Akechi flips a paper over on the clipboard and begins. “Do you remember your name?” It only hits him right then and there that he doesn't. The realization causes his heart to race in his chest and he almost considers lying to Akechi, if just so he can somehow lie to himself. But the truth stings bright and loud in his brain, and he knows there's no trick for reality. “N-No.” “I see that question was hard for you. Can you tell me what year it is?” “...No.” “Do you remember who brought you here? Do you remember where you previously lived?” “No.” “Do you remember why you are here?” “No, how many times do I have to tell you?” he says, grinding his teeth down. He doesn't know how long Akechi's little questionnaire will continue but what he does know is that he's tired of this bullshit. It's clear Akechi knows more about him than he knows about himself, so really, he should be the one asking him the questions. Akechi keeps smiling at him, a little too wide, and it makes the nausea in his stomach grow just that little bit more. “Like I said before,” Akechi says politely. “it's very important you tell us everything you know. It will help us determine your diagnosis, which is a must for us to help you. I'll answer any questions you have but please, tell me what you remember first.” He clamps back a rude retort, and tries to remember something. His head hurts almost right away, pain pounding inside his skull, bouncing to the ends and back. He clutches his head in his hands and grinds his teeth so hard that pain blooms in his jaw. “I can’t remember anything,” he says, words wrenching themselves out of his mouth. Akechi looks like he's about to reply when his eyes dart down, and his own follow them. A centipede runs across the wooden floors, right beside Akechi's feet. He stomps on it swiftly, its dead body crunching into the hard flooring below. “Sorry,” Akechi says, in a tone that isn't sorry at all. “We just hate bugs here.” He doesn't reply back, but thinks that perhaps a hospital- no matter if it is for the insane or not- shouldn't have bugs scurrying around in it at all. It's unhygienic surely, but a quick look around the room speaks louder than words; apparently the staff here don't care much for cleanliness. “So,” Akechi says, brightly. “If you truly can't remember anything, I'll continue. I appreciate your efforts nonetheless.” He pauses and flips the papers again. “It says here that your parents sent you, Amamiya Ren, from your hometown in Japan to here in America this year, 1934, under serious concerns they had with you. They said you exhibited signs of erratic behaviour during the day, and during the night you had a habit of sleepwalking. Your mother said she caught you one time, holding up a knife to her throat in your sleep. Does any of that sound familiar?” He doesn't respond, doesn't know how to really. Akechi had just said he tried to kill his own mother in his sleep but- He doesn't remember doing any of that. He doesn't remember his home in Japan, doesn't remember this strange behaviour Akechi is telling him about, and doesn't even remember his parents. Anything Akechi says could be a complete lie or… It could be the complete truth and he, Ren, doesn't remember any of it. He doesn't know what's worse. “I'm going to take that as a no.” Ren's- is that his name?- head pounds and he considers asking Akechi to leave, if only to get some time to fucking wrap his head around all this crazy bullshit he has to believe is reality. Akechi just looks at him with a pitying smile on his face, like he's some lost puppy who wandered off a little too far. “How… Why- None of this makes any sense. I'm not Amamiya Ren. That isn't my name. I don't even know my own parents-!” “If that is not your name, pray tell, what is?” He opens his mouth and he- Nothing comes out. There isn't a single name to slip from his lips because every name he's aware of feels wrong to attach to himself and oh my god, who is he? “As I thought,” Akechi says with a sigh on his lips. “It's perfectly fine to admit you can't recall anything. It happens more often than you think.” “I still… I don't know anything. Who I am, what I'm doing in a place like this…” “I already gave you all the information I know about you. All that's left is for you to trust us, and I know that comes with time.” He's beginning to truly believe that Akechi's right. That he just went insane and his parents had to send him away to an asylum for their own safety. Even thinking that sounds strange, like it's an event that happened to someone completely different, a character from a grim tale maybe. It doesn't sound like something that could- did- happen to him. Whoever he is. “The only other thing left to discuss,” Akechi says, “are your… symptoms, for lack of a better word.” “Symptoms?” “Yes. You see, after the sleepwalking incident your parents noted that you begun whispering, ah, things. Saying that your parents are ‘shadows’ and they needed to be ‘rehabilitated’. I doubt any of this sounds familiar to you, right?” He shakes his head. “I assumed as such. Well then, this behaviour increased and you continued to act out in irrational ways. Such as seeings things that aren't there, for instance.” He can feel Akechi's intense stare digging holes into his head, like he's trying to unravel the mystery in front of him, before he can even unravel it himself. The clock hits 9:30, and his head starts to pound again. “They're hallucinations,” Akechi says with a straight face. “Obviously, they don't really exist- it's all inside your mind. That isn't the reality everyone else can see. However, to people like you, that can be hard to distinguish. “As it is, you're incredibly unstable and you pose too much of a threat to others to be allowed contact with them; it's why you have a room to yourself. Perhaps that will change with time… But you'll need to prove yourself first. Make sure you check in with me after you have one of these hallucinations.” As he listens to Akechi speak, the feeling of unease grows stronger in his stomach, and pain laces itself around his skull. It's a dull ache that increases with every breath he takes, and all he wants is for Akechi to stop talking about things he doesn't give a single shit about. “Ah,” Akechi says, maybe finally realizing the state he's in. “You look sick.” Akechi manages to push a bucket- a bucket where did that come from?- underneath him in time for vomit to come spilling out. Akechi lays a hand on his back and rubs it back and forth, like he's trying to comfort him. “S-sorry,” he says around the taste of acid. “It's fine,” Akechi says in a honeyed voice. “I'll leave you be for now, you have a lot to think about now and you need rest too. I'll come back tomorrow to check on you.” Akechi leaves the room in a cloud of elegance, and the stench of vomit still lingering in the air. It’s enough to cause his stomach to roll again, but the heaviness in his head is too much to fight against. He falls back into the flat pillow beneath him, and falls into an uncomfortable and unfulfilling sleep. - The next day he wakes up to sharp footsteps and the smell of buttered bread. “Good morning, Mr. Amamiya!” Akechi says, placing a tray of food on the table next to him. “I brought you something to eat, hopefully you feel better than yesterday.” He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and reluctantly sits up. He's still a little weak; joints creaking and muscles aching. Akechi is sitting posed in his chair, back straight and legs crossed, looking more like a scholar than a nurse. It makes him a little uncomfortable, as if Akechi is waiting for him to make a move first. He glances at the tray, apple slices and two pieces of bread are all that is on it. He wonders if Akechi eats this type of food as well. “I'm feeling okay,” he says, taking a apple slice and snapping it in half with his teeth. “Still tired, though.” “That makes sense, your sleep schedule is rather inconsistent.” “How about you?” “Ah,” Akechi says, looking a little surprised “I'm all right. Nothing out of the ordinary. Anyways,” he says hurriedly. “I wanted to discuss the rules of this place with you; it’s important you are well adjusted so that your recovery is quick and efficient. “There are a few things you need to know. First, is that we operate under a strict ‘moral code’. This means we offer the most humane treatment available; activities such as painting and outdoor sports are good examples. We encourage you to participate in these activities. They'll do you good for your illness. “Second, is that we have a behavioural rewards system. It's pretty simple; you behave respectfully and kindly, and you are given privileges. If you disobey, you'll be punished- morally of course. “Thirdly, we fully expect you to do your best here, just as we expect ourselves to try our hardest. This means open communication is a must. Relating to your symptoms, if you have any issues; any nightmares, hallucinations, voices, please don't hesitate to tell me. You just have to remember they can't hurt you- they only serve as a way to trick you into believing the impossible, and bringing them into your new reality. It truly is frightening.” Akechi smiles like he's just finished a presentation, and pushes a brown lock of hair behind his left ear. “Any questions?” “Yes,” he says, pointing to the tiny heart earring stuck in Akechi's ear. “Where did you get that?” Akechi is silent for a moment, and then brushes his hair forward, to cover both his ears. He chews on his lip. “They were a gift.” He's about to open his mouth to ask another question, when Akechi suddenly stands and grabs the tray, walking out the door with a bright, goodbye, see you later! on his tongue. He thinks, perhaps, they all have things they rather not remember. - He dreams of cotton pads, tiger lilies, and dark eyes. He doesn't know what any of this means, but watches them as they flutter through his mind like dusty butterflies. They're just dreams, he knows. They're only dreams, and they can't hurt him. - He wakes up in a blurry daze. His muscles ache, like the first day he woke up, and they twitch like they haven't been used in a while. He peels his eyes open; they feel unusually heavy, like tiny sandbags are attached to them. It makes him want to fall back into his nest of yellowed bed sheets and pillows. The clock ticks, both broken hour and minute hands struggling to meet the correct time.
Wait-
The clock only has one tilted hand, not two. He saw it happen- remembered- the hour hand and how it lagged behind; remembered the minute hand and how it stayed straight as it could be. So, why are both of them hanging now? Did something bump into it while he was sleeping? He doesn't know, but for some reason the clock's hands are creating a very unsettling disturbance in the air. It clouds the room in a fog he can't quite wave away, still lingering in the dust and particles around him. This feeling increases in tiny amounts, almost manifesting an entirely different space with the effect it has; barred windows and flickering lights, darkening. Suddenly, everything feels like an illusion. It's a blurriness that won't go away, a fuzzy haze still edging in the background like it doesn't want him to recognize exactly what it is. It scares him unlike anything he's ever witnessed before and the feeling of nausea comes back. The clock ticks again, and it's 9:16. And then, in a chattering fit, two women come into his room, wearing outfits unbefitting of hospital staff- skin-tight white dresses, short enough to see their thighs. One of the women has a drastically more decorated dress; red little hearts clipped on every edge, and a larger one on the back of her neck-high collar. They lean against the doorway and speak in hushed tones; seeming to look over him, still lumped in his bedsheets. He doesn't want to interrupt their conversation, but there's an ache in his chest and a shake in his left leg that won't go away. “H-hello?” He feels his voice rumble in his throat, but all that escapes are whispers of dying words. He swallows. “Did you see the new patient that came in today?” the plainly dressed woman says. “He put up such a fight, they had to call the doctor in. My guess is that he used to be a professional fighter, before… You know…” “Really,” the other woman says, twiddling with the heart-shaped buttons on her crisp dress, “you should know better than to speculate.” “I can't believe you have the nerve to say that to me, Mr. I-Pine-For-My-” “Oh, hush! I have work to do, and you're not making it any easier.” “Whatever you say,” the other nurse says, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder and skipping out of the room with her heels clicking. “Just don't vent to me about your woes!” The nurse just sighs, and digs her hand into one of her pockets to take out a cherry-red heart-shaped lollipop. She yanks off the wrapper and pops it into her mouth, teeth crunching down. He opens his mouth again, hoping to gain her attention, but nothing comes out. “I guess you're still sleeping, huh,” she says, turning to the window, moonlight hitting her brown hair and making it shine. “I just hope you wake up soon…” Her face tilts to the right, and he can see her clearly now. Bright red lips locked around a white stick, pale cheeks tinted with rose, and unsettling brown eyes laced with red; they flood his vision in rolling waves. A name spilled on his lips, drenched in cheap perfume and rose. It freezes before it makes it out. - “I feel as if it is extremely important we have another discussion, Mr. Amamiya. What did you dream of last night?” Akechi's smile is thin but wide, and Ren gets the feeling that he's struggling to keep it in place. A roach scurries across the floor, and this time Akechi ignores it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ren falls, falls, and keeps falling. It's a usual occurrence by now, so maybe he should be used to the way his body slacks in the icy comfort of his bed. Or the way the clock's hands tick by each other, movements loud in his ears. Or even the way the single plant in his room becomes increasingly blurry with every blink of his eyes. He should be used to the fog sweeping in through the cracks in his room he can't see, invading his mind like tiny soldiers running rampant. He should be used to the heaviness in the air, and the cold touch of an invisible hand that wills him down, down, down. Ren should be used to all these little signs by now, welcoming them readily as he resigns himself to a fate of too-real dreams once more. But he isn't. And he doesn't. It doesn't matter though, exhaustion covers him and he's forced to close his eyes, knowing when he opens them, he'll be gazing upon something horrifyingly dream-like. He's not even completely certain if they are, in fact, dreams. They happen sporadically; they are consistently inconsistent, he could say. To add to the strangeness of it all, they don't always happen when he's sleeping either. He'll be awake and have the sudden urge to fall, never minding that he stays in bed for the majority of his time. After the very first time it happened, Akechi had assured him that this was all an elaborate plan his mind had created for him. ‘It's simply nonsense, that's the terrifying part. Nothing about them are supposed to make any sense at all,’ he had said, with his eyes grim. Opening his eyes to his surroundings, he isn't surprised to agree with Akechi wholeheartedly. It's like a layer spread itself across his room, overlapping what was previously there. On the surface nothing has changed, it's the exact same room he's spent the last six days in, it's underneath; the finer details that can be easily overlooked. The two broken hands on the clock, the plant over-hydrated with water sitting on top of the soil, the torn curtains that cover the closed window, the yellowing bedsheets. The entire room is covered in the dim yellow light that emits from the dusty lamp. It shadows everything in a eerie haze, causing it to feel almost otherworldly. Ren sits propped up, back against the too-firm pillow. His hands involuntarily clench the topsheet and trembling slightly from the effort. After the first time he woke up here, he's felt especially weak; it had taken days to work up the strength to move his hand a bit. It feels like he's sinking into the bed, although he knows that's impossible. Then again, this place should be impossible too, but here he is, trapped in this… dream. A dream or a nightmare, he doesn't know. Exhaustion courses through his body, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes open. Like a curtain drawn, his eyelids slip closed against his will. Still, no matter how tired his body feels, Ren decides to wait. He's learned this dream happens in stages, like clockwork. He falls, he wakes up to this place, and then- He hears the clock's minute hand move, a quiet tick in the otherwise silent room. He knows it trembles up, resting crooked on the sixteen. Immediately after that, he can hear the distinct sounds of sharp footsteps making their way to his room. They click and clack, like heels do, of course, because he wouldn't wear anything else. They stop just inside the doorway for a second, as if they're hesitant to enter, but then the bolts of the metal door side open and the footsteps continue. Ren tries to move his head to the side a little, squinting his eyes open. He can only catch a glimpse of a crisp white dress and red hearts before the urge to shut them rises up again. Movements sound in his ears; papers being shuffled, heels clicking against the wooden floors, and the crunch of candy as it meets the grind of teeth. The floors creak, getting closer and closer to the bed he lays in. He feels hands straighten his sheets and fluff up his pillow, maneuvering around his limp body. Against everything inside of him, Ren opens his eyes to the dim light of his room. Brown hair immediately fills his vision, striking against the paleness of his face and the reddish-brown of his eyes. They blink wide, like they can't believe what they're seeing. Ren struggles to open his mouth, to speak words- to speak a name he's heard and said so many times now. But before he can, red lips part and with a soft voice they say, “You're awake.” - Water cascades down Ren's back in rivulets, little droplets falling into the stained drain below. He watches as they slip down altogether, running in streams by his feet. Drops slide down the skin of his cheeks, sticking his hair to his face and obscuring his vision. He blinks away the water settling itself on his eyelashes. The temperature feels warm as it coats his ice cold skin, a heavenly sensation after days in his chilly room. He doesn't have any time to enjoy it though, aware of the eyes following his hand as he reaches to grab the soap from the dirty catty in front of him. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, attempting to sound sarcastic but the waver in his voice says otherwise. “Not particularly,” Akechi responds, from his spot on a bench in the middle of the men’s shower facilities. It's true, he looks bored, sitting all alone among the rusty pipes that cover the walls and ceiling. Ren doesn't think Akechi really wanted to bring him, but had to because of health regulations. He had said to him that since he's got his health back, he should freshen up. And so, Akechi had brought him here. It's dirty just like his room is- unnoticeable on the surface but a closer look will reveal things he didn’t want it to. The knobs on the faucet sparkle, but the cracks have visible rust on them, the pipes that line the walls are huge and grey, looking as if they'll crumble with just the ghost of wind; the tile floors that Ren stands on, while white, are stained with things he doesn't care to know. It got worse when he found out the stalls didn't have doors for privacy. Akechi said, in his overly polite but detached voice, that it was for safety reasons. When asked about his continued presence, he said that was also for safety reasons. “That's hard to believe when you're staring at me like that, you know,” Ren says while dunking his head under the spray. “As I said before, I only wish to make sure you're alright. I thought reserving this room for just your use would make you more comfortable, anyway.” “I’m more comfortable now than I would be with a dozen strangers watching me shower, but that still doesn't change the fact that you're here, too. You're still basically a stranger to me.” “Hm, I haven't thought of it like that.” Ren looks at Akechi in disbelief, angling his body so his penis isn't in his immediate view. It's embarrassing as hell to have a conversation while he's showering, but it's even more so when he's visibly naked. “Really? You haven't?” “No. Although, I'm not opposed to getting to know you better, Mr. Amamiya,” Akechi says, looking all sorts of pretty under the ugly yellow lights. Ren wants to drown himself in his own shower water at that thought. “I think…” Akechi looks at him with a quirked eyebrow. “I think the heat may be getting to me. I think I'm done showering.” “You've only spent about seven minutes in there, Mr. Amamiya,” Akechi says, looking at clock on the far right side of the room, “are you sure you wouldn't like to continue?” Thinking about spending even another minute with himself naked, and Akechi staring at him, is enough to cause Ren to go light headed. “No, I'm fine…” Ren shuts off the water and then grabs the towel Akechi had given him, off its hook. It's an off-white colour- almost yellow- like most of the things in this mental institution are. He rubs it over his body and through his hair, then immediately wraps it around his waist. The sooner he's dressed, the sooner this fog clouding his brain will go away. Akechi smiles at him appreciatively when Ren walks up to him, and hands him the stack of fresh clothing he arranged for him. They're the usual stiff shirt and pants he woke up in, not unlike Akechi's own. Ren nods at him in thanks before shucking the top over his head first, barely glancing at Akechi as he does. He doesn't want to see where his eyes are latched onto this time. Once he's done changing, Akechi peeks over at him and smooths his eyes over Ren's body. “You look better, now that you've showered.” “Yeah… I should hope so. I mean, I must've smelled like shit before.” Little peals of laughter leak from Akechi's lips, tiny enough that it doesn't make much noise. It sounds like it's meant to be louder than it is, like Akechi's purposely quieting his voice. That doesn't make much sense, though, because there's no one else in this room besides them. Ren wonders what Akechi's like when he really laughs- unconstrained; free. “Let's get back now,” Akechi says, standing and leading Ren through the entrance, “we have things to discuss.” - It turns out the ‘things to discuss’ was actually just an excuse to interrogate Ren about his past. “It says in your files you were an only child. Were you lonely during your childhood, only having your parents to speak to? Did it make you sad- angry?” Akechi says, tapping his pen against the clipboard he holds in his hands. It's not the first time Akechi asked similar questions. After the initial drowsiness had faded, he had been on Ren about anything that could possibly link to his past. What began as small, direct questions, increased in intensity over the course of a few days. It had startled Ren, seeing how unrelenting Akechi was. Because it doesn't matter how invasive they get, Akechi insists on prying every detail he can out of Ren. Not that there's much to pry- he still can barely remember anything. “No,” Ren says, trying not to grind his teeth together, “and isn't this redundant? You know I can't remember much.” Akechi looks up from his clipboard with a practiced glare; it almost looks polite, if that’s even possible. “Yes, I'm aware. However, this is a normal procedure, I assure you. It's important to at least ask questions hoping it might trigger some buried memory, than not ask at all.” “If it is better, I should be allowed to ask you questions. Since you clearly know more about this,” Ren gestures at the surface level clean room, “than I do.” The pen stops tapping and Akechi gives him a bright smile, all teeth. It sparks Ren's interest in a way it probably shouldn't, and he wonders for a moment, what this Akechi would look like bathed in red. The heart earrings are a good start, but definitely lacking compared to what Ren knows could be. “Hah! My, you're certainly acting more snippy. You must be feeling much better, considering how lost you looked for the past few days.” “So?” Ren pushes, ignoring the jab. There's only the sound of the clock ticking in the background, as Akechi stares back at him. His eyes on any part of his body are just short of unnerving, but Ren keeps hold of his gaze, unwilling to let information this important slip through his fingers. As slow as a snail, Akechi turns the pages of the clipboard, licking his thumb with each pass. Ren feels nervousness jump into his stomach with each flip; he doesn't know what will kill him first, the anticipation or Akechi's bottomless eyes. Finally, he gets to the very last page and turns the clipboard so it faces Ren. On it is a map, with the words State of Vermont at the top. “This is where we are located,” Akechi says, tapping at the long stretch of land with a short fingernail. “It's a wonderful place for a mental institution, don't you agree? We have beautiful greenery all over, gorgeous mountains, and best of all: seclusion. It really is a little haven, all to ourselves.” Ren looks at the map, at the State of Vermont, and he doesn't know what to say. There's something about the map that makes him believe this is well and truly real. It sinks down, down, down, and cements itself into his stomach, like a heavy weight of truth. He sees the cursive writing, the detailed veins of the state running up, down, and sideways; looks at the many names scattered all over: Burlington, Barre, Montpelier, and Vergennes. The special mix of fantasy and reality mending together until they're indistinguishable from each other. He can't turn away from this important piece of evidence, he can't fool himself into believing this was all an elaborate joke played on him. This sheet of paper, with its many lines and words, is real. Is it really better to know the truth? Ren doesn't know anymore. “It's…” “It's shocking; I understand,” Akechi says with sympathy as thick as syrup as he gently turns the map from Ren's view. “I've seen many patients all throughout my years working here, and they all have the same lost look when I show them where they really are. It's quite sad, and even worse once they are well enough to go outside.” Ren doesn't even want to think about facing the reality of his situation in its most physical form. The thought almost makes him gag, and he fights to settle down the anxiety clawing at his chest. “However, being present outside is an important component to our program,” Akechi says firmly, pressing the papers back in order. “I'm sorry to say you won't be exempt from that.” Ren doesn't say anything as Akechi writes a few notes down and then stands up to leave. His ever present smile rests on his face like a second skin, and Ren feels goose flesh rise along his arms. “Remember,” Akechi says, pushing a few flyaway strands out of his face- though not behind his ear, Ren makes sure- and turning to exit the room, “I'll be back tomorrow, and we can start by going outside for the first time. Look forward to it!” The last thing Ren sees before the door slams shut and the bolts slide in place, are Akechi's all too red eyes peering at him from behind his hair. - Ren dreams of a bright light in the empty darkness, constantly spinning around him. It's terrifyingly beautiful, and it sings like an alluring sort of lullaby. For some reason he doesn't understand, Ren knows he isn't meant to touch it, only to bask in its beauty and appreciate it for what it really is. Nevermind the fact that he has no idea what that could be, he'll worship this all-consuming presence; bowing before it as he lays his heart bare. Eventually the light- his sun- blinks out of existence, and he's left like a man wandering in the desert- alone and without guidance. It fills his very being with the sort of loneliness he's only ever imagined, with stories of despair weaved by old souls. A thousand images come to replace the one he's lost, and they fly by him too quick to understand. He's left again and again, in a fit of dreams that don't make sense and a heart that yearns to live for more. - The next day, after Akechi brings Ren his breakfast- a simple meal of toast and eggs with a small bowl of mixed fruit- he reminds him they're going to be going outside today. It's a sentence Ren both dreads with all his might, and yet craves so much. Truthfully, he has been yearning to step outside and breathe in the fresh air after being confined to this tiny room- apart from showering- for the past seven days now. Still, there's a pit in his stomach that grows larger and larger every time he imagines standing in the middle of looming mountains and vast greenery, as Akechi had described to him. No matter how beautiful the view sounds, it isn't where he's supposed to be. Ren hopes with something deep inside himself, that he'll remember everything about his past once he experiences the beauty of Japan again. Despite his memory loss, he knows something as important as his country could never truly be forgotten. “What are you thinking about?” Akechi asks with his ever present smile on his face. Ren looks away from the buttered toast he had quietly been chewing on, placing it back on the tray. He decides to answer Akechi with a half-truth. “About my home, Japan, and what it's like there.” “I'll tell you when we get outside, if you really want to know. Think of that as your reward for being so cooperative.” Akechi smiles even more brightly, on the verge of showing this teeth. He looks like he's told a funny joke that he expects Ren to laugh at, but Ren doesn't understand it, nor does he feel much like laughing. Still, he turns his lips up into a smile and fakes excitement anyway. After a few more bites of egg that Akechi almost has to force-feed Ren, Akechi stands and announces that breakfast is over. He picks up the tray while he tells Ren to wait for him- he still needs to do a few things before they can go. Akechi leaves in a flourish, and Ren hears the door locking firmly behind him. Ren chooses to occupy himself with his thoughts while he waits, but they can only go on for so long before they turn right back into dangerous waters. It's inevitable, of course. Having nothing to do all day gives him ample time to run in circles around himself. He still has so many questions that he doesn't know the answer to, and that Akechi seems hesitant to give him. He understands Akechi's position, understands that mentally unstable patients are best left in the unknown for their- and others’ safety. However, he thinks he has a right to the answers of these questions that plague his mind. He wonders about his hometown; his house and how big or small it is. He wonders about his possible friends and if they miss him or not, even his teachers and peers- if he had any at all. He wonders about the childhood memories he had accumulated over the years and where they hide now. He wonders what he was thinking when he picked up that knife and held it to his mother's throat, or what her face looked like when she realized it wasn't some stranger, but her own son. He wonders about his father and what he must of felt, looking at that figure hunched over his wife. He wonders about that dark place he goes to, the… Other, he decides to call it for now. He wonders about this other side of him. He wonders about Akechi and the little quirks Ren is becoming more attuned to. The bolts on the door slide open with a loud sound, metal on metal, and in comes Akechi. “I brought you a surprise,” he says, turning to direct something into the room. Another nurse- the same woman from the first day, Ren notes with surprise- comes into the room holding what looks to be a folded up chair with wheels attached. The nurse brings it to the side of his bed and unfolds it, tugging parts into place with firm hands. Once she's done, she straightens herself up and walks to the door, completely ignoring both himself and Akechi. Ren would chalk it up to her just being unsociable, after all she did run away from him the first time he saw her, but something about the way she keeps herself at a distance from Akechi rubs him the wrong way. “Thank you,” he calls after her. She doesn't seem to hear him, that, or she doesn't care, and continues walking until she's out of the room. Akechi slams the door shut immediately after her, almost catching her blonde ponytail along the way. “So, I got you-” “That was a little rude,” Ren says, looking into Akechi's wide, innocent looking eyes. “Hm.” Akechi stops, like he fails to notice anything wrong with his behaviour. “I could say the same to you, with how you just interrupted me. I don't appreciate that. Besides, she's busy, you shouldn't pay much attention to her.” “But-” “Anyways,” Akechi continues, as if he hadn't told Ren how much he doesn't like being interrupted. “I got you a wheelchair! Do you like it? I know you're alright to walk now, but where we're going is a little far and I figured you might need the help.” Ren watches Akechi watch him, eyes locked on his- unwavering. A chill seems to breeze through the room, even though the window has always remained closed. It seeps into Ren's bones, and he suppresses a shiver. Akechi doesn't say anything, seeming to wait for him first. How polite. “Thank you…” Ren squeezes the words out of him- words meant for someone else. “You're welcome.” Akechi seems to take no offense to the stilted way Ren thanks him, and only widens that plastic smile further. All of Ren's muscles tense when Akechi reaches under his arms to help him get into wheelchair- despite seeing him walk by himself just yesterday. His hands are ice cold, and they creep along his skin like spiders, causing goose flesh to pop up across his arms. His body doesn't allow him to relax until Akechi's hands are on the handlebars of the wheelchair, and well away from any surface of his skin. “Ah! Just one more thing.” Ren can't see what Akechi's doing, but he definitely hears and feels the rustle of cloth as it covers his eyes. Akechi ties a tight knot at the back, pulling once- twice. A lock of Ren's hair gets stuck in between the fabric but Akechi doesn't seem to notice and continues tightening it. “You're blindfolding me?” he says, trying to level out his voice enough so that it doesn't appear like he's ready to bolt from this wheelchair. “It's protocol, my apologies. You're a new patient and it's currently unknown as to how you will develop over the course of your stay here. Thus, we can't have you escaping on us- for the good of our occupants here. Many have tried before, so we try to keep on top of that.” The words ring loud and harsh in Ren's mind. The reality of his situation comes around to flash its terrifying face one more. He's unused to the ways of a hospital, and an insane one at that. He has no idea of all the things that went on inside these walls, but the knowledge that some people have tried escaping this place is enough to leave him with chills. “It's not that bad,” Akechi assures him, “it's just that they aren't in their right mind. Some don't even know we're trying to help them.” Ren nods, unsure if he believes it or not. With swift steps, Akechi moves forward and thus Ren moves forward as well. He stares in front of himself, seeing only the darkness the blindfold brings him, but knowing the looming steel door lies just ahead. He's suddenly thankful he can't see, as if being unable to see the door will mean he can't go through it. It's terrible logic, but he finds himself repeating the thought anyway. The chair stops, and Ren hears the sound of the heavy door open so very slowly, causing his stomach to plummet below. He bites his tongue to keep the word ‘stop’ from coming out of his mouth. It's important for his health, he knows it is. He needs to stand outside and forcefully take in that fresh air and those large green mountains, and simply be. And there's no way to do that than to allow Akechi to help him. With every click of Akechi's shoes, Ren digs himself further in the seat below. He strains his ears to hear any noises of passing nurses and patients, but to his surprise there aren't any. It's almost unusually quiet. He expected- and was excited- to see people other than Akechi, but there's absolutely no one here. “Where’s the staff? And the patients?” Ren asks. “They're just busy, don't worry. It's time for their treatment so everyone is probably focused on that right now.” “Treatment?” “Oh, yes. I told you there was going to be some treatments, remember? I'm sure they'll help you with your hallucinations and night terrors. Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough.” Ren is about to press on, to ask Akechi about these treatments, when the clank of a door opening grabs his attention. Suddenly, a gust of wind blows over his body, engulfing it completely. “Oh my, it's windy today!” Akechi says with a little laugh. Ren feels the chill of the breeze on his skin, and almost begs Akechi for- something. He doesn't know what. Does he want to see what the outside looks like? Is he afraid of what he might be? Does he want to embrace the change, or stay in his blinded reality? It seems he doesn't have a choice, because without a word of preparation, Akechi rips off his blindfold and exposes him to the environment around him. Ren stops; he waits. And he takes it all in. It's… beautiful, in every sense of the word. It's just like Akechi described, with magnificent large mountains, green hills that go on forever, and lovely flowers scattered about. He takes in lungfuls of the fresh air that surrounds him, breathing in deeply like he can't get enough. Akechi laughs, at his reaction most likely. It should make Ren embarrassed but he feels too free for anything than a flush of happiness to make its way onto his cheeks. “I'm guessing you like it?” Akechi teases, lifting his own face up to the air. “More than like it, I- I love it. It's beautiful here. You get to see this everyday?” “Yes, all the time. But come,” Akechi says, grabbing the handles on the wheelchair to steer Ren in a different direction, “there's something I want to show you.” As it turns out, what Akechi wants to show him is a gorgeous garden, tucked a ways into a cluster of tall trees near the building. It's filled with what seems like to be almost every type of flower there is; large yellow ones facing the sun, tiny blue ones resembling bells, interesting shaped orange ones that look loud in personality. They fill every nook and cranny, every turn of large walls of vine and slab of stone. “This is mine,” Akechi plops down on a patch of grass, facing Ren, “it’s my little safe haven, I guess you could call it. I come here often just to see the flowers I plant.” “You planted all of these?” Ren's almost in disbelief, he can't something someone like Akechi would be capable of taking care of plants- consistently too. “Yes, it wasn't easy, but I grew to love them.” “You grew to love them? So you didn't want them at first?” Akechi touches the plush grass beneath him, almost absentmindedly. “They were a gift.” Ren notices the parallel, but respectfully doesn't comment. The silence doesn't turn awkward between them, thank god for that, and so they just sit in the middle of Akechi's beautiful garden, and bask in the sunlight together. “Hey,” Ren says after a while, brushing his finger along a red rose petal, “I want to ask you a few things.” “Go ahead.” Akechi sounds like he expected this, but the pleasantness of his garden is enough to have him relaxed and open to Ren's questions. “So, you're Japanese, right?” “Yes. You just noticed we were speaking in Japanese, Mr. Amamiya?” “No- I just… want to know you a little better.” It's half true. He is genuinely curious about Akechi, but Ren really just wants to know more about what Japan is like. It sits on his tongue every time he sees Akechi, the question just waiting to be spoken. He swallows, and hopes Akechi is willing to give him just a tidbit of information. “That's fine. All you have to do is ask,” Akechi lays down on the grass, posture still perfectly straight, like he doesn't know how to else to be, “I grew up in Japan and moved here about ten years ago, I was still a child then. I still visit Japan occasionally, but it's a little harder now than it used to be.” “What do you mean?” “Well, with the fall of the stock market, it's more difficult to cover travel expenses. Not to mention how involved the military in Japan is now… It's easier to stay here until things calm down.” It's... shocking to hear. There's so much Ren doesn't know- doesn't remember, that it hurts to think about. “It's okay,” Akechi says, “to not remember. I'm sure you'll pick it up in time.” “Yeah…” Ren replies, doubt clogging his mind. They leave soon after that, Akechi noticing the sun starting to set. He takes Ren back to the door they came through, with Ren sending one last longing look at the beautiful view. He's not ready to leave, not really, but Akechi's insistent and Ren knows he won't budge. “Hey!” Ren whips his head at the voice, straining it to see beyond Akechi's still form. He can barely make out the man running towards them, dressed in the same shirt and pants Ren is wearing. There's a limp in his leg he doesn't seem to notice, eyes still on Akechi. “Mr. Akechi!” the man says when he catches up, “I didn't know you were here.” “You're not supposed to, Mr. Sakamoto,” Akechi replies through clenched teeth. Ren can't see his face from this angle, but he bets it's just as pinched. Maybe he has a problem with this Sakamoto person? “Oh, hey!” Sakamoto turns to Ren then, smiling warm and real, unlike Akechi's plastic ones, “I didn't see ya there. You new?” “Y-yeah,” Ren stumbles, because he can't believe he's finally speaking to someone other than Akechi. “Ah, you don't gotta sound so nervous. I'm sure you're gonna do fine and be outta here in no time! What's your name? Mine's Sakamoto Ryuji.” Sakamoto's smiles are infectious, and Ren can't help but smile back when he offers to shake his hand. Ren grasps his hand and introduces himself as Amamiya Ren, because explaining his situation to him might be just a little confusing. Or, seeing as how Sakamoto is also a patient in a mental institution, maybe not. “Mr. Sakamoto,” Akechi cuts in, stepping in front of Ren just short of impolite, “I'm afraid Ren as had a very busy day. I'm going to bring him back to his room, and maybe you can speak to him at another time, alright?” “Ah, yeah. Sorry, Mr. Akechi,” Sakamoto says, sounding like a punished puppy. “Another thing, who's the nurse that allowed you out?” “Ms. Cooper.” “Thank you, Mr. Sakamoto. I promise we'll see you tomorrow. Say bye, Mr. Amamiya!” Ren waves a hand at Sakamoto, who's looking slightly dejected. He bites his tongue when he thinks of asking Akechi to stay a little longer. Akechi's back is straight as a rod, with his hands clenched around the handles of his wheelchair. For whatever reason, Akechi doesn't seem to want Ren around Sakamoto, so at least for now, he'll play nice. When Akechi bids Ren goodnight that night, it's with the slightest edge of unhappiness. - Ren wakes up at midnight, a cry on his lips and images still dancing around in his brain. He tries to rid himself of them, make them go away , but no matter how much he tries he they still stay. He falls back onto his firm pillow, still wet from his sweat, and falls back asleep. - The next morning, Akechi brings Ren little handmade cards along with his usual breakfast. These cards have English words written on them, with their Japanese counterparts on the other side. “They're to help you practice,” Akechi says, “Although all of our staff know how to speak Japanese, it would be beneficial for you to at least recognize some common words; you're in the United States now, of course.” It's just another reminder of how drastically his life has changed, having to learn English for the first time. He understands the importance, however, and knows Akechi is right. In a foreign country, while away from his home he remembers little about, it would do him good to learn how to simply converse with others in their native language. There's still bitterness that resides inside Ren though; having to learn English at all stabs at his heart. If none of this ever happened, there wouldn't be a need to. They practice for half an hour, going through the cue cards a little at a time. Ren always makes sure to double-check the meaning of all the words Akechi teaches him, lest he earns a slight jab from him. Akechi's swift and efficient in his teaching, and there's almost a sense of ruthlessness about the way he quizzes him, like one mistake will be Ren's downfall. Still, he packs up many mistakes in their little session, and while Akechi is a difficult teacher, he does make sure Ren isn't having a hard time keeping up; there must be some kindness to Akechi as well. “That's that,” Akechi says, stacking all the little cards into a nice, neat pile. “You did better than I anticipated. You're a fast learner.” “Thank you… You helped a lot, though. You're ah, very strict but kind.” “Hah!” Akechi laughs brightly and shoots Ren one of his many smiles. “Thank you, too. I'm sure we'll get you speaking fluent English in no time. Although, that might be difficult with your... condition and all." Ren tries to smile back at that while he ignores the curling in his stomach. Akechi's just being helpful, of course. He didn't mean to sound patronizing about it, Ren tells himself. From his days in his prison of a hospital, Akechi has been nothing but kind to him, never minding his sometimes questionable actions and attitude. He's teaching him out of his own free will too; never once has Akechi said this was what he did with all his patients. But maybe Ren's kidding himself, and he just wants someone to be on his side. “Well,” Akechi continues, “there is something else I planned for us today.” Ren looks up at him in question, and watches as Akechi digs through his uniform pocket and produces a small glass bottle. There's red pills inside. Akechi shakes the bottle once and the pills tumble around, bouncing off the surface. Ren watches as they settle down at the bottom again, looking more like poison than anything else. “These pills,” Akechi starts, “are a new formula the Doctor has been working on for quite a while. It's not even fully finished yet, but after we spoke the other day about your hallucinations and dreams, I knew just what would do the trick. “These focus on exactly what you're experiencing; they work to regulate the hallucinations you have, and lessen the intensity of night terrors. While they can't completely rid you of them, they will provide a steady schedule that allows you to prepare in advance. So, instead of surprising you, they will start to only happen during a certain period. Do you understand?” Ren nods. It's terrifying, of course, to have to rely on such things as medication when he never had done so before- at least to his knowledge. It's a firm statement; a nail in his coffin that settles the deal of how serious his mental instability is. He needs meditation to not stop- but only regulate what Akechi calls hallucinations and night terrors. More than anything, that's what scares him the most about this whole thing. He eyes the pill bottle again, looks at the tiny red death sentences, and hopes to God he won't lose himself in the process of all this. “What about the side effects,” he asks, because obviously there would be some. If it's an unfinished product like Akechi said it was, there would be many side effects they're not even aware of. “To be honest, I'm only sure of some of them: drowsiness, migraines, and nausea. There is most likely more but since you're the first person to test it out, we don't know.” “Is this safe? Because from what you're telling me, it sounds like you have no idea what could happen.” Akechi smiles, dainty like, and crosses his legs. He pushes his shoes into the side of Ren's bed. “There's a first for everything. This pill is our new pride and joy, but we don't know every outcome. It could either end wonderfully or disastrously. It all depends on how badly you want the hallucinations and dreams to go away.” Akechi's got him under his heel like a freshly crushed bug. He knows what Ren's going to say even before Ren himself knows. It must be obvious in the way he stares down the pills, like they're the only source of salvation in this hell he now calls home. He won't say no; he can't, despite everything inside him telling him not to. It's too good of an opportunity to pass up, surely. “I want them to go away. Whatever it takes… I'll do it.” “Perfect.” Akechi's cheeks fill up as he smiles big and wide, and for a split second Ren swears he sees the residue of red lipstick. He blinks. There's no lipstick there, only the subtle peachiness of his natural lip colour. “Mr. Amamiya? Do you like my lips that much?” Akechi teases, bringing Ren's stare up to his eyes again. Ren's face heats in an unattractive blush, embarrassed to be caught staring. He knows, of course, Akechi doesn't wear anything of the sort, so why could Ren have sworn that he did? He thinks that maybe, his dreams and reality are mixing a bit too much for his liking. “Ah- sorry. Could I have a pill to try now? Please.” If Akechi notices anything wrong, he doesn't let it show, and only slips a single red pill from the bottle. He doesn't give it to Ren right away, although he does hold it within reaching distance. “Of course,” he says, “I can't allow you to have the entire bottle for safety reasons, so I'll keep it. I'll administer them at eight in the morning, and eight at night, okay?” “Yes. Just- please.” “Alright. Don't think you can have these whenever you please, though.” That slightly mocking undertone pisses Ren off a little, but as soon as the pill is in his hands all he can think of is relief. Akechi hands him his glass of water on the table, and without thinking, he lets the pill slide all the way to the back of his throat and swallows with one gulp of water. He can feel the tiny thing as it travels down into his body, and he does his best not to think of it breaking apart right that second, dispensing its contents into him. “Now then, how about we take a nice walk outside to the gardens again? That might help brighten your sour mood, hah!” Akechi doesn't wait for Ren's approval before grabbing the folded wheelchair from where it lays beside the plant, and Ren himself is beginning to understand he doesn't need to. They sit around in the gardens for a while, talking about everything from the types of flowers they grow here, to the state of Japan. Akechi indulges him in some of his more deeper questions about his life, while at the same time revealing nothing to him. Ren comes away with nothing new learned, and he tries to not to let it bother him. Sakamoto doesn't end up coming to the gardens, and Akechi refuses to wait for him, saying something like ‘Sakamoto is probably busy, we should go now.’ In the end, no matter how much Ren asks, he's taken back to his room with a sweet goodbye and a small mint from Akechi, as a ‘reward”. -
“Are you ready?”
Akechi asks, so softly yet sturdy. He knows to make sure everything is alright. There's no trouble is there? He's fine- Ren’s fine. He knows he is.
Ren moves forward- feeling the wheelchair move forward- and he moves and shifts and tumbles past all the landfill blocking his way. Akechi is at his back, like usual, keeping track of him. Is he that delicate that he needs someone to watch him? That utterly breakable? Or maybe it's other people that are breakable, and he just has a need to see them crack.
“Are you ready?” Akechi asks again, still soft, still sturdy.
Ren doesn't know what he means. At least he doesn't think so. What he does know is that there is nothing to worry about; everything will be taken care of by Akechi. He feels warm and safe in his presence, like nothing can harm him.
Like nothing can ruin him.
There's faces all around him, distorted features mixing on top of their steaming skin. They don't move their lips but he can hear them speak anyway. They whisper things of beauty and ugliness, all blended together. What do they want- need? Ren doesn't know. He never knows anything, and is that such a bad thing?
One of the faces lifts their head more, “Are you ready?” it says, wearing Akechi's perfect smile.
He tightens his grip on the knife in his hands.
Yes, he is ready.
Ren's eyes shoot open, and he immediately lurches forward and grabs onto the rough bed sheets underneath him. He clenches and releases them periodically, aiming to match the rhythm of his heart. Akechi had told him before that counting down or breathing in time with something might help calm him. They do, he thinks. Continuous patterns relax the mind- helping it enter a state of automatic repetition. His room is covered in an otherworldly chill, and it settles in like an unwanted pest. The light above the tiny desk is off, and so the entire room is heavy in darkness; it's difficult to see much of anything. Ren looks down at the dusty floor in a effort to ease his eyes away from the ominous cloud that violates the space. The clock ticks loudly, hour hand resting on the fading eleven. It's night, then, too late for anyone to be up. He follows the hands of the clock with his eyes, and it works well enough; with each number and clench of his fists, he finds himself slumping back against the wiry headboard. The metal presses into his skin with an uncomfortable firmness, but after the… Truthfully, he doesn't know what to call them. It has to be a dream, but felt so real, as if he were really there. It's either that, or he is crazy, and Ren shakes again, not wanting to apply that word to himself. He feels his heart pick up, and he fights to slow it down once more. Overworking his heart will just add more problems to his already growing list, and no doubt Akechi would scold him. The chair beside his bed remains empty, but he can still visualize Akechi's stiff smile and deep eyes, hints of something behind them. Settling back into the bed, Ren runs a hand down his face and closes his eyes, hoping to at least get a few more hours of sleep. The nervousness inside of him has calmed somewhat, and he thinks this is as good as it will get.
“Meow.”
Like a bullet, Ren sits up straight as a rod and whips his head to where he heard the sound coming from. He looks to the right, where the window is and- It's open. The curtains are drawn for the first time since he's been here, and he can clearly see the crisscross of bars that cover it. Beyond that lies the beautiful gardens that Akechi had taken him to see. However, in the darkness of the night, it's difficult to see the true colours of the flowers. Another meow comes from the window, and Ren takes in a sharp breath, leaning forward enough that the bed creaks. From behind the edge of the window, a tiny paw lays directly on the glass. Claws come out and swipe at it, the sound grating in Ren's ears. Despite the noise, he makes a move to get up, shifting the sheets out of the way. More insistent meows ring from the other side of the window, and a small cat body comes into view. It's black, like the night, and the only thing giving away its shape is its bright blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. Ren takes a breath in, and grasps onto the headboard to lift himself up. Suddenly, the door to his room swings open, and in comes Akechi, looking a little frazzled while carrying a teacup. It's the first time Ren's seen anything other than the carefully placed smile on his face, and it instantly raises the hairs on his arms. “Mr. Amamiya! You shouldn't be up at this time of night, plus, you might still be weak,” Akechi says, briskly walking to the table and setting the teacup down upon it. He then goes over to Ren and gently but firmly pushes him back into bed. “At this rate, you're going to become one of my most troublesome patients.” “Sorry,” Ren says, “there was just… a cat I think. On the other side of the window.” His head throbs and one of his hands come up to rest on his temple. It wasn't aching before, but something about the cat and Akechi's sudden appearance has him uneasy. “Excuse me?” Akechi turns his head to look at the window at a speed that would almost be comical, if not for the current situation. “The curtains are open, why are they open?” “I don't know, I guess I fell asleep and when I woke up, they were open. It was probably another nurse,” Ren says, despite the fact that the only two nurses he's seen are Akechi and the blonde woman. From the way she had acted before, he's sure she wouldn't be the type to enter his room without his or Akechi's knowledge. Akechi looks at a loss for words, but he quickly walks towards the window and peers out into the night. He stays there for a few moments too long, and Ren doesn't think the sighting of a cat is worth the alarm Akechi seems to think it is. He snaps the curtains shut, tightly holding the material in his hands. “Yes, it must have been another nurse.” Akechi sounds like he's convincing himself to agree with Ren, and it adds more pressure onto his already pounding head. He groans and grasps at his hair, pulling slightly. “Oh, I'm so sorry!” Akechi finally lets go of the curtains and turns his attention on Ren, quickly walking to pull his bedsheets back in place. He props up the pillow against the headboard and allows Ren to rest against it. Akechi then picks up the teacup from on top of the table and gently hands it to Ren, to be sure he won't spill it, Ren guesses. “It's camomile,” Akechi says, “so it will help you sleep better.” “Did you know I was having trouble sleeping tonight?” “Well from everything you've told me about your troubles, I could only assume so. I'm glad I got here in time to assist you.” “Thank you…” Something about Akechi's answers are off putting, but that could just be because Ren himself is still suffering from the experience he just had; right now, everything seems off to him. He sniffs the tea anyway, and takes light sips from it, feeling the too hot liquid burn his lips. It gets into the cracks, stinging him, yet he keeps it there because it's something other than the constant chill he feels; at this rate, anything is better than that. “Here.” Akechi slips him another tiny red pill, pressing it into his hand. “You look like this could be of use to you right now.” “Yes, definitely.” Ren tries not to sound too desperate, but the pill looks so appealing, it's hard to conceal his want. He swallows it back with some of the tea, feeling the pill hit the back of his throat and go down, down, down, until dissolves. He can almost visualize it break apart inside of him, providing him some of the relief he has yet to feel. “It will take time to work- these pills aren't designed for instant results,” Akechi says, taking back the teacup. His eyelashes splay against his cheeks, creating long shadows, not unlike spiders. “It's fine, as long as they work eventually.” “I'm sure they will. Until then, I'll be happy to stay with you until you fall asleep.” Really, Ren would be more than happy to settle down by himself, tossing and turning included, but there must be something about Akechi's eyes shining in the dark, adding another layer of mystery to the otherwise dull room. He finds he can't say no. And so he lays back, with Akechi's eyes clear on his, and the memory of a bitter pill. The last thing he sees is Akechi looking at the window. - It sneaks up on Ren, like the night. It claws at the rusty door and unlocks the bolts, one by one. Perhaps he should be scared- terrified actually- but it's the cloud of calmness that soothes the aches in his mind. They rub over every nerve that is lit up in his body; every sense of touch that makes him feel electric. It spreads into every corner of his room, violating his personal space. It wants to seek- to know him inside and out. What does it want? he wonders, but the darkness says nothing in response. All the more nauseating, it probes and suffocates him in the most sweetest of ways; what else could this be other than a lover's embrace? Anxiousness clogs his veins and begs him to just breathe but he doesn't want to. He doesn't need to. The light appears again, hopping into existence in the prettiest of flashes. It beckons him, and this time he answers in a flourish of agony. What he would give to let it consume him, wash him away like an ocean's wave on a bright summer day. The light implodes- suddenly and with all the beauty in world, it births something entirely new. A long black tail emerges from the darkness, and leads to an equally black cat. Its blue eyes glimmer with excitement, and it reaches over with tiny white paws to swipe at Ren. The gesture makes his heart grow soft, and he plays with its tail and it purrs so loudly in his ears. The noise allows Ren to drift off into somewhere unknown, and when he wakes, he's faced with crowds of screaming people. They yell things he can't understand, and point at something in the centre of the circle, with their dirty fingers. A fist flies out of nowhere, and socks him in the face. He catches glimpses of bloodied knuckles and bandaged hands, and can't begin to wonder why anyone would go into a sport like boxing. Bills pile up around him and the crowd's grubby hands race to pick it all up; they go into dresses, into shirts, into shoes. How filthy these people must be, to take pleasure in the pain of others. They would be better off, he thinks, if they were all dead. The thought comes like a train at high speed- sudden and without remorse. It doesn't seem all that wrong to him then, the idea of murdering- no, saving people from their selfish ways. Maybe it's something he should consider, when the screams of the damned and the cries of the innocent can't ruin his tattered mind any longer. It's then, that Ren sees a man out of the corner of his eye. He stands alone, away from the crowd, and gazes upon the ocean blue, ways below him. He stretches his left arm out, maybe to reach into the sea's depths or to chase away the ghost of lost pains. Cuts line the man's naked back, crossing over this way and that, and Ren feels sympathy simmering inside him. He wonders if they still hurt just the same as the day he got them. “Mr. Amamiya please,” says Akechi, looking just as composed as he usually does, in his stark white uniform and pretty hearts, “it's time to head back.” Ren doesn't like the sound of that, but he takes Akechi's hand in his anyway, and follows him out the door Akechi leads them to. It's rusty with moss covering the entirety of it, yet Ren still turns the doorknob anyway, and steps through. When he looks back to check on Akechi, he's gone like smoke from a cigar. His hand aches something fiercely, and he tightens it into a fist. “Mr. Amamiya,” Akechi says from behind him. Ren looks back, past the door and into his hospital room. Akechi's sitting picture perfect on the metal chair, hair clipped back to show off his heart earrings. He stands when Ren approaches, heels clicking in the silence.
“Take this.”
And as Akechi slips a red pill between Ren’s chapped lips, all he can think of are his pretty red eyes. - Ren wakes up with sweat lining his back and his heart racing in his chest. The feeling of his dream world eats away at him, and he rushes to take in as many lungfuls of air as he can. His hair sticks to his forehead in wet strands, as little droplets of sweat slide past his cheeks and down his neck. He bites his lip, tasting the dryness in his mouth. The possibility of staying awake- or even more unlikely: asking Akechi for another pill- eats away at Ren. He could lie here until the dawn he can't see, rises, and Akechi comes swinging into his room all bright and cheery. He could wait for that, definitely. But the exhaustion rolls over his brain in a fog, and no matter how much he tries to fight it, he's useless against its pull. With the dignity of a broken man, he eases himself back on the stiff mattress, and closes his eyes. It's time to sleep. - “You’re awake.” There's a quiet moment where they just stare at each other. Akechi looks a little confused, maybe lost at what to do. His eyes shine brightly in the dark and his red lips are slightly parted, just enough for Ren to hear his sudden intake of air. His hands tighten on the clipboard he holds to his chest, blocking Ren's view of the tiny heart buttons that decorate his uniform. Ren opens his mouth in an attempt to speak, to ask the why's and how's and what's, but Akechi seems to snap out of his state from the movement, and shove a finger to Ren's lips, pointed fingernail nicking at his skin. Akechi's eyes narrow, looking to the right side of Ren's face. “Drink this before you try to speak,” he says and picks up a teacup from the table Ren hadn't noticed was there, and presses into his trembling hands. Ren closes them around the cup like a reflex, instinctively seeking the comfort a fresh cup of tea brings. The heat seeps through the porcelain and warms his numbing skin, and so he spreads his fingers wider to leech off of it. It's been so cold lately, in his empty, dark room. It's what Akechi tells him; what he remembers so clearly. And it's what he smells now, as the fog dissipates from his mind and he's able to recognize the scent for what it is: chamomile. It's earthy, like the green grass and the red flowers that had bloomed in the garden. The smell of the tea works to wrap around his body in its soothing aroma, or- would be soothing, if not for the memory that surfaces from it. It seems Ren can't escape his dreams inside his other dreams; a terrible cycle, like a snake eating its own tail. “From the way you're acting like a middle aged man, I'm guessing you need a moment to collect yourself,” Akechi says, dragging Ren back from his thoughts of fresh flowers and midnight nightmares. Ren sits up as much as he can in his creaky bed, and brings the teacup to his lips to take a sip. It scalds the delicate skin of his lips, and he winces when it burns all the way down his throat. His stomach jumps, and he fights to keep the liquid down inside him. “No- no, I'm fine.” His voice cracks like eggshells when he speaks, and Akechi's perfectly done eyebrows rise in disbelief. “Right. Well, let's get started then. I'm sure you have many questions,” he says and then grabs a pen from one of his pockets, the body thick and sturdy. He bites the cap off with his pearly white teeth while he flips through the pages on the clipboard. “My name is Akechi Goro- yes I'm Japanese if you couldn't tell. You're currently staying in Creakwater Hill hospital for the Insane, located in the state of Vermont- that's in the United States. I'm the head nurse here, and lucky for you, the only nurse who's going to be looking after you.” It's almost the exact same little speech Akechi had said to him when he had first woke up. It was anxiety inducing then, and it continues to have the same effect now, bubbling thoughts and stomach aches galore. Ren has to move the teacup back on the table, lest he shatter it in his shaky grip. “This hospital is mainly for immigrants from Asia- mostly Japanese. Our staff consists of American-born citizens for the most part, but rest assured, all of them know how to speak Japanese so language isn't a problem here.” Akechi glances at him with smoldering eyes- probably to make sure Ren's paying attention- before looking back down at the papers he's holding. “You're a special case, though, since you're still considered a Japanese citizen. It was extremely hard to get you over here, just so you know. “Anyways, that's all you need to know about this place for now. Next, I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I expect you to answer them to the best of your ability.” Ren nods. It's obvious by now that this whole scene is going to play eerily similar to real life. This Akechi is on script almost perfectly, so Ren doesn't feel the need to lie and pretend he doesn't know anything. Still, he's not going to let it be known that he's aware this is… a dream of some sort. He understands his mind works against him and this won't be an exception. Who knows what could happen if he were to act recklessly? It's better to play it safe and respond to Akechi’s actions than make his own right away. Akechi leans on one leg and starts writing on the clipboard with his expensive looking pen. “Do you remember your name?” “Amamiya Ren.” Akechi's pen stops its scratching and then picks it back up again a moment later. “That's good. I didn't expect you would know that. Do you remember what year it is?” “1934.” “Correct again. Do you remember why you are here?” “My parents sent me here… for concerns they had about me.” “Well,” Akechi says, twiddling the pen in his hands, “that's one way to put it. One of our staff members contacted them because of rumours about you- we have people all over you know. Honestly, your symptoms are so unusual and sporadic that it's difficult to determine what's wrong with you. It's honestly a little annoying.” Well, Ren thinks, he's not holding back on almost-insults. The hidden jabs aren't anything new, but the way this Akechi voices them is. It's more real- more raw, like he doesn't care if Ren takes notice or not. Ren shouldn't find it attractive, but after Real Akechi's polished attitude, it's like experiencing the outside for the first time again. “This is a lot of information,” Ren says instead of the thoughts he's sure Akechi won't appreciate. “What? Did you expect me to withhold things from you?” Yes, Ren thinks. “It's not that, just-” “Mr. Akechi!” a woman yells, popping in through the door behind Ren and Akechi. “There’s a problem in room 104! I dunno what's gotten into her, she's usually such a honey, y'know?” Ren jolts in his bed when he sees her enter the room. She’s ladylike in appearance only; the skin-tight white dress and celebrity curls complement her nicely but can't hide her tomboyish attitude. Still, this woman is undoubtedly the same woman he had met the other day, who brought in the wheelchair for Akechi. It's almost laughable how completely different they are. This woman, with her shrill-like voice, almost childlike, and the other eerily similar to a marionette. “God, Ms.Cooper, can't you see I'm with a patient? I don't need your insufferable screeching in my ear,” Akechi says, looking a little more than annoyed. If he has to deal with this on a daily basis, Ren can understand why his patience is running thin. At Akechi's words, Ms.Cooper whips herself around to look at Ren. She spreads her pouty lips into a circle and stomps her heel into the wood flooring beneath her. It creaks underneath the sudden weight, but she doesn't spare it a glance, too focused on staring at Ren like he's an exotic creature. “Boy! When did you wake up, darling? We thought you weren't ever gonna.” “He's fine,” Akechi says in a steel-like voice. He says something else to her in English, much too fast for Ren to even have a shot at understanding it. Ms. Cooper is apparently knowledgeable enough to get the hint, for she replies back in English just as quick. She leaves right after that, only with a bright bye! and a wave for Ren. “I’m sorry about that fool,” Akechi whispers as soon as she's out of earshot, “she's so annoying but at least she's good at what she does. Anyways, Ms. Cooper informed me of an urgent matter that needs my attention, so I'll have to leave you now.” Ren wants to cut in, to beg Akechi to stay and answer his questions that are piling up in his brain. He barely got the chance to speak with him today, and although he's sure he'll end up here once more, it's frustrating to have the answers seemingly ripped away from him. Surprisingly, Akechi looks just as upset as Ren feels to have their discussion interrupted. He's not even looking at Ren; eyes too focused on glaring at the door Ms. Cooper left through. “That's fine,” Ren says, feeling every bit of not fine at all. Akechi sighs and picks up the teacup, now turned cold in the natural chill of his room. His heels click with every step, sounding more and more like a lost opportunity to Ren's ears. He doesn't say goodbye or wave as he leaves, and Ren is once again locked inside an empty, dark room. He looks to the side where the window is, staring at the open darkness of the night.