The blood was still seeping out from Aya's lip as the lunch rounded up. Slowly but steadily a pearl of crimson formed on the slit and he'd sweep it away with either his sleeve or his tongue. His chin and fingers were now clean after a short side trip to the bathroom, but still carrying a faint smell of blood. He pressed an ice pack against his cheek as he was escorted in by the same nurse who had been kind enough to take him to the bathroom.

She smiled at him, not discouraged from the blank look she received for her troubles, and then went to fill plate for him. Appetite was something Aya wasn't quite sure if he could even describe anymore, it seemed he didn't know the concept by neither experience nor the idea. He stared down at his plate with less interest as he had gazed down at the mushroom soup his sister had made him eat when she was six. The stomachache that had followed felt quite familiar at the moment as well.

The day had been quite giving already, and it could only get worse, he guessed. His face ached, the side throbbed in time with his heartbeat but he had refused to take the painkillers the nurse had offered. He was paranoid enough not to take any pills so freely given to him. He had probably fucked up things with Yohji the night before, he had been exchanging punches with Ken just a bit before and he kept imagining one dead teammate hovering around this crazy facility. All he really needed was Omi to pause beside his table to tell him this all was just a virtual reality he and Kritiker had pulled together to test Aya's mental stability.

He half wished it would happen. Any time now would be good.