damned_institute | Night 65: Disciplinary Therapy Room 1

Entry tags:

m-u,
mikado

Night 65: Disciplinary Therapy Room 1

What made someone extraordinary? It was a question that the institute worked to answer every day, and while the primary method was by doing the obvious in studying extraordinary people, there always had to be a point of comparison. It was the reasoning behind those patients who really didn't have much to them, who didn't stand out in any quantifiable way.

Ryuugamine Mikado was one such example. By most accounts, he was a completely normal boy -- his only real achievement was the creation of an internet gang. In fact, that most interesting thing about him was his strange name. They had taken even that away from him here, seeing how the nurses called him Arisata Kenta.

But the doctor for today's experiment wasn't going to bother with anything like that. As it was, Mikado had been unconscious for the past few days, put under observation as they studied him for any anomalies and tried to decide what to do next. In the end, the most interesting thing they could do with a normal person was somehow change that, and that was simple enough with the tools left to them.

All things considered, for a regular civilian Mikado had handled himself in the institute rather well. And what they had planned for him tonight wouldn't necessarily make his life here any easier. He wasn't going to get some sort of magic offensive ability, or even added strength. Still, it would be enough to point out both his own change and the oddness of others.

Ryuugamine Mikado wouldn't be able to straddle the line between a boring life and an exciting one after this.

The boy was strapped down to the table, and for now the doctor was keeping all the necessary tools for tonight's surgery a secret, placed on a cart that was off to the side, out of view. He'd need to do some explanatory work before he got started, after all.

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The insinuation that Mikado should know better hit him before he could defend against it. It was an old, stupid reaction, misplaced especially here, but still Mikado was someone who always wanted others to think well of him. Having it pointed out by a stranger that he was lacking was bad enough-- But what was worse was the second aspect of that sentence, of the easy expenditure of explanation that Mikado desired the unusual. Again, his eyes moved to scope the room before landing back on the man, a larger touch of fear entering the boy's gaze. That was something... Something that only Izaya had seen before. And this person was speaking as if... Like it was something just known!

"Is this what you imagined it would be like?"

...He didn't realize he had been breathing quickly. Inhaling and exhaling like it was something that wouldn't be allowed shortly, and he tried to change that, to shift it back--took in a long shaking breath, but his breathing was still off. This, for some reason, affected him more than the room. The intimate intrusion into his mind and thoughts without any difficulty on this person's part. Was Mikado that translucent? That obvious in all his wants and needs? His chest heaved for air, the straps were suddenly too tight everywhere, and before he could stop himself, he heard his voice asking in a small tone something that was too cliche to be said. "...What are you going to do to me?"

It was clear, almost immediately, that he had hit some sort of nerve. The doctor was glad that he'd been able to garner a reaction, to start that quick breathing that indicated true panic. Mikado was starting to understand exactly how dire his situation was, and there was nothing more enjoyable than the look in someone's eyes when they realized they were completely at his mercy.

The doctor straightened his back, because this was his second favorite part. Getting to tell a patient exactly what he was going to do -- and knowing that they would have no way to escape that fate.

Of course, his favorite part was actually doing it, sticking his hands under skin and soaking his fingers in blood, but that part would come soon enough.

"It might be something that you end up enjoying, actually. We're not completely heartless here, you know. We're looking to help you, to improve you... And in this case, you might get something out of it too." The doctor stared down into the boy's eyes -- or rather, one in particular, practically burning a hole through it just with that look.

He had to tease a bit, and he wondered just what Mikado would assume, given that information.

...There was too much that could be meant with those words. Having another person decide whether or not something was helpful or harmful... If it would be enjoyed... Things like that were what Mikado despised; people that were so self-righteous or selfish that they prioritized their thoughts and goals over anyone else. Yes, of course, this would be something like that. Of course, in the end, it would just be another worthless person, trying to judge the worth of a person by statistics and value sets.

Despite everything, despite the scenario, Mikado was disgusted. Enough to transition around fear, despite the cold feeling inside his stomach. "Like with Celty-san?" he gave in return. "Giving her her head to help her... Did you consider that she was fine without it? What gives you the right to determine what should be changed within others?"

"Of course you would think that she was better without it. You, the boy who thrives on things that are supernatural." That was the thing about Celty. Not that the doctor had been involved in returning her head to her body -- and the fairy was already gone at this point -- but she had wanted to find it. It was everyone else who had told her different, who had told her that she didn't need it, who had convinced her that she should live in suffering to fit their own needs.

But there was no point in getting into that now. This wasn't about Celty, but Mikado, and the doctor wouldn't let himself get distracted.

"After tonight, you'll be capable of identifying any person who isn't completely human with just a glance," he announced suddenly, wanting to move this along before Mikado continued down a different line of thought. "You can't tell me at least part of you is intrigued by that."

--It could be true, what that man said. It could be that Mikado was assuming as much as anyone. But either way, no one had the right to decide that but Celty! And even if--

It was true. And in an obvious way. What the man said next stopped all of Mikado's thoughts in his tracks.

Being able to tell a supernatural being at a glance? He would have been able to know about Celty the first time he crossed paths with her, and if there had been any others in Ikebukuro, he would have known it, just by walking by. And at the institute....

He looked to the man warily, but the interest was clear on his face. Was it that they improved you here, based on your wants? Was that what actually happened to Celty? "How would you even do that?" What was the catch, to letting someone try that?

Oh, the doctor could tell that Mikado was intrigued now. Most of the patients who were brought up here protested all the way, but he'd caught this one's attention, had set out a carrot for him to reach for.

The doctor smiled, glad to see that eagerness, even if it was still shaded by concern and confusion. "That's a good question. Just how would you do something like that? But you underestimate us."

He reached out behind him, turning slightly towards the cart, where the principle item needed for this experiment sat, almost innocently. After picking it up, he turned back toward Mikado and then extended his gloved hand, placing the small disc into the light so that the boy could see it for himself.

"You'll be equipped with this." It was a benign way to phrase it, perhaps, but the fun part would be showing Mikado how that would happen.

Equipped. So not changing the nature of a person, but adding an enhancement to them. Something like that... Something like that was possible in the realm of understanding. Even with the goal behind the item itself. Something like that was--

But why was Mikado strapped down like this? Had people objected to things like this before, or it was for the protection of the shadowed doctor? The cold feeling in his stomach hadn't went away despite everything; even as a part of him was excited about the prospect (if it was actual, if it was real), there was still a nuance of uncomfortability. There was something in all of this that was missing. A vital point.

Perhaps it was exactly what Mikado had said about Celty. Because this entire conversation was a farce at choosing. It became obvious, suddenly, that no matter what Mikado said, this would continue. Because Mikado wasn't registered as a 'person'. He was something to watch the reactions of. To see what happened next. It was such an overused plotline. Such a lame plot device. This whole thing was just a game. And the punchline, the plot twist would be--

He was shaking, and it was more from the realization of having no power than anything else. "...And how would I be equipped with that?" He stared at that disk, then swallowed once. "Either way. You're not intending to let me have a choice in the matter. Are you?"

"No, you've never had a choice." Mikado hadn't had a proper choice since he'd woken up in this place, after all. If he hadn't figured that out yet, then he really needed to get quicker on the uptake. "You should be glad that I'm even telling you beforehand, rather than just getting right down to business."

That was a method that some doctors used, literally saying nothing and just doing the job, leaving it entirely to the imagination of the patient to work out what was going to be done to them. That had its power too, of course, but this doctor in particular didn't think he could stay quiet that long.

He set the disc aside and grabbed something else off the cart -- specifically, a speculum to hold Mikado's eye open. Without saying another word, he leaned down and wedged it around the top and bottom of Mikado's right eye. "As for how, well, you'll see now."

He was starting to belatedly realize he shouldn't raise questions at all.

Of course, it wasn't anything calm like that. There was no way Mikado was fine with what was playing out. It was an admission of a lack of human rights, more than anything else--

What was grabbed off of the cart Mikado had seen in horror movies. He wasn't even sure that they actually existed--were used in procedures. He pressed back against the cart, all other movement halted by the straps holding him down. There was the brief, inane beat of knowledge that if he struggled and this man was serious, he would get major damage to his eye.

The thought froze him solid, which allowed the man to easily use the item.

He was shaking. Shivering from something other than cold, and his eye was beginning to tear up, and it hurt; something unnatural pressed and prodded where it shouldn't be, and just--

His other eye fluttered shut to make up for the vain struggling of his other eyelid. Too in shock at the act to say anything else, he whimpered once, and fell silent.

"You know, if you hold still it won't hurt nearly as much." If this had been a legitimate procedure, then the doctor would have numbed Mikado before even going this far, but he had no interest in making the boy feel comfortable. If Mikado wanted to know what it was like to be a video game character or someone in one of those animated movies, then he'd have to endure it this way. Wasn't that how it always went in fiction?

But this wasn't fake at all. That was what Mikado had to understand. Getting caught up in some fantasy wasn't going to do him any good, and once this was over he'd have to face the facts, which was that he was surrounded by people far more interesting and accomplished than him.

The doctor grabbed his next tool, which almost looked like a small ice cream scoop, though it had a more precise edge to it. "I'm going to have to pull the eye out of the socket to install the chip," he said dryly. "I'll need to do it carefully to not tear the optic nerve, so stay still," he warned.

If he held still, it wouldn't hurt as much?! Who would-- Who would believe something like that? It was possible there'd be less damage, but-- Already he wanted to shake his head back and forth, an animalistic response to try and loosen the pressure at his eyelid, and it was good that the strap stay secure where it was. And it was good that even now, Mikado retained the use of his senses. Retrained the mentality, even as he started to panic, to try to minimalize the negative effects of this situation.

Didn't he know? More than anyone. How useless it was to fight against people like this?

Unless there was a trump card. Unless there was something still held back, to create something like a 'check'. But there wasn't anything, and he knew that! He held no power here, and it was dubious at best if he held any power at all to begin with. Ha, it was like that, wasn't it?! Something so useless like that....

He actually started laughing, like a close friend had said something funny. Like Masaomi had made another lame joke that just showed how much his friend was actually trying to cheer him up. But, ah-- Pulling his eye out of the socket? Really? Saying it like that made it worse, didn't it? Was this really just a game for the people in power?

He wished he could do something brave, like not react at all, and take away the pleasure of this person, but Mikado was only a student, as he repeatedly said. Just a student, and nothing like a hero, who would keep fighting to the very end. No, in the end, he was just a person who--

“--you have to keep evolving.”

His laughter trailed away, tears leaking from his eyes. Still he smiled, that expression wavering from fear and something else. "...Go ahead, then. I'll try to remain still."

The laughter was probably the result of hysteria, because Mikado was now denying the very nature of his situation. Or it was so absurd, so out of the norm for a simple Japanese schoolboy, that he didn't know how to react. The body and brain sometimes had strange responses to high stress, after all.

As for the tears, those were more generic, but also interesting because -- well, would they offer extra lubrication when the eye was extracted? There was only one way to find out.

Now that he had Mikado's cooperation (not that he'd required it), the doctor bent over the table, revealing only the lower half of his face. His mouth was pulled tight with concentration as he moved the edge of the tool to Mikado's lower eyelid. A little push was given, and then the scooping instrument managed to cup the boy's right eye. The doctor had to be unbelievably precise, but Landel hadn't hired him for no reason, and before long he was slowly pulling his arm back, extracting the eyeball with it.

There was a reason he'd told Mikado to remain still, after all.

It was something unlike pain, but not unknown to discomfort. It defined itself more as unnatural, a scrape against the senses, a jolting grasping into places that should maintain themselves as untouchable, and in that singular violation--

There was a sharp inhale that Mikado wasn't aware of making. The distance given to the situation dispersed and he squeezed his other eye shut against the perversion of it. Perhaps the thing that was worse beyond all else, is that the doctor did what he said, and did not tear the optic nerve. Sight shifted and gave itself at odd angles--he found himself viewing his cheek at one point, without any way of canceling the sight. Something that would stay with him, perhaps; the fear of being only able to see.

Not ever having been on the other side of this equation, the doctor really didn't know what it was like to have one of your eyes pulled out of the socket. He could have asked, could have tried to force Mikado into talking about it so that he didn't try to hide away from the situation in his own mind, but one thing was for certain now: the boy couldn't close both his eyes and just pretend it wasn't happening.

The only reason the doctor didn't ask was because he needed to concentrate. In some ways, they were under observation just as much as the patients. If he made a mistake, he'd surely pay for it.

So, while he kept the eye removed, the doctor grabbed for the microscopic chip with his other hand, holding it between thumb and forefinger. He slowly eased it toward the socket, ignoring the blood and fluid in the way as he set it in place.

Edited 2012-09-18 18:49 (UTC)

It was less the slow pulling out of his eye, the way that it had given a wet pop when it cleared the socket--it was less that, and more the placement of an outside item; something that without a doubt did not belong where it was being placed, that made the boy begin to shudder, a rolling tremble that encased his form.

There was a wordless whimper that he heard somewhere, and he realized in the back of the mind that he was the one making it.

When Mikado shuddered, the doctor's hand twitched, wanting to reach out and hold him in place. But with one of his hands making sure that Mikado's optic nerve didn't snap and the other placing the disc, he didn't have a free one to do so.

"Stay still," he murmured as he kept working. He had to push the disc around very minutely until it was in the exact right place, a sweet spot that he'd found during countless experiments performed before this, to develop the technology.

Once it was properly placed, he slowly put Mikado's eye back into the socket with a level of finesse that came from lots of practice.

It was done.

The murmur was anything but comforting and yet it did just that-- Mikado took a shaky breath inward and tried to restrain his own movements. He had no want to lose his sight, all else considered. No matter what, in this kind of situation, he'd--

He'd rather not lose anything.

There was a settling of that outside object, and then there was the horrific sensation again of his eye being moved, looking at things without having control over it, and he made a sound again, quiet and an almost whispered moan, and with a wet pressing, his eye was back where it was supposed to be.

He couldn't close it with that item still there, but there was at least, finally, the knowledge that the man wasn't just going to rip it out after all. His other eye blinked rapidly, tear ducts overflowing, and he began to breathe in hitched breaths.

There was the want to ask if it was done, but the boy found he didn't have the ability to speak.

"There," the doctor said, as if he was a painter who had just added the last stroke to a masterpiece. He took a step back and nodded, because this was the result of months of research and trial and error. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" It was a cruel thing to say, but he wouldn't have gotten involved in this sort of job if he didn't have a small interest in sadism.

"Now you'll get an idea of just want it's like to be extraordinary," he said as he retreated further from the exam table. "I wonder if it'll be all you've built it up to be?"

And then, any sign, any sound of the doctor was gone, as if he'd just vanished.

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Night 65: Disciplinary Therapy Room 1

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