ippo: (star-crossed)
ippo ([personal profile] ippo) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2011-08-01 11:15 am
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Night 57: Patient Records

[From here]

Ippo had never been prone to claustrophobia, but the small, packed room made him very uncomfortable. He had this fear that if he stayed in here too long, the towering metal shelves would cave in around him and trap him in the dark. No one would hear him and he would wither away slowly.

What a depressing existence! Sighing heavily, the boxer moped around the tall shelves with the utmost care. Every time he touched the frames to move between, they rattled back and forth and helped lodge Ippo's heart in his throat.

"Quickly, quickly," he muttered to himself as he tried to make sense of the organization. The English alphabet was a bit beyond him, so was his hospital alias for that matter, but he knew the characters for his name (or was it his ring name now?) in English. He would try under M first and hope they just filed him under Makunouchi like he assumed they should. Unfortunately, after flipping through every M, it was not meant to be. Ippo did, however, find himself under Mitsui. Hiro Mitsui, that sounded familiar.

He opened the thin manilla folder and balanced the flashlight under his chin to shine down on the printed pages inside. The first file was filled with common statistics: Height, weight, nothing out of the ordinary. Then he came across a list of notes and recommendations that had been signed by faceless doctors.

Most of what he read, Ippo simply couldn't comprehend it. These diagnostics were so ridiculous--not to mention wrong!--that it was like they were talking about a completely different person! The report did mention Miyata, however, and the boxer hoped he would finally figure out what had happened between them the last time they had met. He flipped to the next page, but it ended.

"What...?"

He flipped back, turned the page over, but there was no second page. The last few pages were leafed through, but nothing else Miyata was here.

"Damnit!" he cursed against the iron shelves, his fists bending his folder with the force of his frustration. Ippo had been so close to figuring this all out and it had ended miserably. The crestfallen patient did find a list of medications that doctors had suggested for his disorders through his frantic rifling. It may not have been exactly what he was looking for, but perhaps it could help him find the right pills in the infirmary.

Placing the folder back into its alphabetical slot, the young man left the suffocating room with his lists of drugs with grim determination.

[identity profile] damned-monsters.livejournal.com 2011-08-02 08:47 am (UTC)(link)
For all the sterile surroundings of the Medical Wing, there were still a few dirty, creepy crawly problems that the Institute didn't take care of so much as sweep under the rug, at least during the daytime. A few of said "problems" were awakened by the sounds of footsteps in the records room, and papers rustling.

The patient did not want to stay long, but the room's til-now-silent occupants had other plans. As he approached the door, there came a skittering from underneath the shelves — and from above. Even from the walls, they scurried and scuttled. The roaches were out tonight, and they were hungry.

From all corners of the room, ten of them closed in on the door, intent on chasing their prey out into the dark hallway if they had to.

[Eryn]