Day 39: Doctor's Office 3 (Dr. Kisugi) [Fourth Shift]

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

It had taken some time to set her office back to rights after the visits with that morning's patients, and the sharp tang of cleaning solution was still rather irritatingly obvious in the air. It was fortunate that she'd had a spare shirt to change into, but she had been forced to borrow a clean white coat from the staff; it didn't quite fit right and smelled subtly wrong, uncomfortably so. All in all, the minor inconveniences were piling up and leaving Dr. Kisugi rather less than pleased.

Well. She'd just have to make certain it had been worth it, the next time she had a session with Mr. Riedel. At least her nose had healed now, and all traces of blood washed away.

Still, though, she had one more patient today, and had best be prepared. She set the file for Mr. (or was that "Doctor"?) Ashcroft in the center of her desk and began to page through it, reminding herself of the details of his particular case. Hopefully this one would be more interesting than some of her other patients - or at least more willing to talk.

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[no-side-effects.livejournal.com]

The fact that Wesker had been selected for therapy the day after he killed Leon was a little bit too much of a coincidence. He'd been here for quite a while, and hadn't been selected for it until now. Wesker treated everything in this institute with suspicion and this would be no different. Though he did expect it to mostly conform to the cover story of being a mental hospital, there were a few fairly horrific treatments that could be given to the mentally ill and be perfectly acceptable.

Shock therapy came to mind, but that would probably be preferable to being put on some sort of medication on a daily basis. "Good afternoon, Doctor," Wesker said as he was escorted into the room, deciding there was no reason to drop his act of a calm, polite, well adjusted mental patient.

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

The CD of insipid piano concertos she'd had playing that morning had been replaced with another, though Makiko hadn't bothered to check the label before pressing play. It wasn't as though she particularly cared what music was playing quietly in the background; it was there only to distract the patients who entered her office.

She glanced up from the player on her desk as the door opened, assuming the neutral mask of the calm and polite, if businesslike, psychiatrist before assessing her latest patient. There was a half-second's pause, barely noticeable, before she nodded to the nurse to indicate the woman could leave them. Perhaps there was a hint of hesitation in the nurse's departure, after the little incident with the patient this morning, but Makiko hardly noticed, waiting to speak until the door had clicked closed again.

Well, now. This was interesting. But...somehow, there was something about this man that also put her on guard, even as it intrigued her.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ashcroft. Or do you prefer to be addressed as Doctor?" Makiko inclined her head slightly in greeting and gestured for him to take a seat. "I'm Dr. Kisugi. How are you feeling today?"

[no-side-effects.livejournal.com]

Wesker noted the minute exchange between his doctor and his nurse, but didn't see any particular significance and dismissed it.

"Doctor, if you don't mind," In truth neither were particularly preferred, but he had no inclination to attempt to get Dr. Kisugi to call him Wesker. He sat down and calmly placed his hands in his lap prepared for whatever this institute thought it could throw at him.

He gave Dr. Kisugi a pleasant, polite smile as he started on how he felt. "I feel well today. I haven't been sleeping very well since I arrived here, though." True enough, Wesker hardly slept aside from whatever mysterious time passed between the end of night and breakfast or the irritating occasions when he slept through something.

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

"Very well, then, Doctor." Makiko made a small note on his file of that, though it was more of an excuse to look away for a moment. Not now, not yet, not yet, she told herself in a silent litany, focusing on that rather than the man in the chair opposite her desk, fighting the surge of hunger, the ever-present need that had flared to life at his presence.

With no outward sign of her thoughts, though, she continued to write, scribing each character with quick, neat precision. "That's too bad," she observed, in a neutral tone that masked her vast insincerity (or at least lack of concern). "Do you think you need something to help you sleep?"

Most of the men she'd ever encountered (at least recently, since it had begun to matter) had been weak-willed, their supposed strength of will likely to shatter when confronted with their fears. This one, though - she had to wonder. It might well be worth a test. But two in one day? How very odd indeed.

[no-side-effects.livejournal.com]

"No thank you," Wesker said. He certainly did not want to take sleeping pills at dinner. "I am not particularly fond of sleep aids. I think that a little coffee in the morning would help me get back on a better sleep cycle, though. It's a pity they don't offer it at breakfast."

While he did enjoy coffee, Wesker wasn't as attached to it as some people were. Still, he knew that the staff had filled patient requests for food items, so perhaps he would be able to get coffee added to the breakfast menu. It would be an interesting experiment at least.

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

Makiko nodded slightly and added another comment to her notes at that, then paused to flip back through the pages of the file again for a moment. "I'm afraid I've little control over what they choose to serve at meals," she replied, almost absently. "Though I can pass on the request, if you'd like. I'm sure there'd be no objection to something that would make your stay here more comfortable."

Though she mouthed the words, she didn't mean a bit of it. She was here for her own purposes and the patients' comfort didn't enter into that in the slightest.

She finally looked up again, setting her pen down and folding her hands neatly atop the papers as she regarded her latest patient. He was quite intriguing she wanted to tear him apart and taste his fear and yet at the same time something within her urged caution, the wariness of a predator spying another. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Dr. Ashcroft. Something that's not contained within these files, perhaps."

[no-side-effects.livejournal.com]

It would be interesting to see if coffee appeared the next day at breakfast, but Wesker wasn't too optimistic about it. Dr. Kisugi seemed to be less than interested in his therapy, though Wesker wouldn't be surprised if some of the Doctors here were a little jaded. Dealing with patients that constantly insisted they weren't who the staff thought they were would have to be frustrating.

"I would appreciate that," He said, managing to sound at least somewhat interested in the coffee.

He considered her request to tell her about something that wasn't in the files, and thought over his reply for a moment. "If I knew what was in my files I could tell you something that wasn't..."

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

Why was that everyone's first question? The way that everyone claimed not to know anything of their lives was starting to become somewhat puzzling by now, even as a symptom of a similar disorder. One might think they'd at least remember something. Or perhaps they all just wanted to see how easily she'd accede to their demands.

Though why was the man wearing sunglasses, and indoors? She hadn't noticed anything about photophobia in his files, though she supposed it could have just been another one of those things that nobody seemed to deem important to tell those who were expected to treat these people. Or perhaps it was just an unexplained allowance for some kind of quirk. "Ritsuka" had spoken of a camera, after all.

"Mm. Well, then, why don't you just tell me a little bit about yourself, then," she suggested. Her smile widened just slightly, though it was more of a mechanical movement than one actually heartfelt; there was no trace of friendliness or amusement in her eyes. There was, however, a hint of wary interest visible for the observant. "Since this is our first session together, I'd like to get a feel for how you think. It'll help me determine how best I can help you recover."

[no-side-effects.livejournal.com]

Dr. Kisugi really was fairly good at faking interest. It wasn't enough to fool Wesker though, but he could hardly blame the staff here for being weary of this masquerade. She did seem at least a little interested in this conversation, though.

"Very well... I enjoy classic literature, playing the piano, and red wine. I got into virology because it is a field with a lot of research opportunities that don't necessarily involve dealing with patients," Wesker knew that it wouldn't contradict anything in his file, but any conclusions Kisugi would draw from that information would likely be faulty.

He had a copy of his own file in his room, it matched decently with his real life, up to a point.

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

"Would you see yourself as a solitary person, then? Or do you just prefer to choose with whom you spend your time?" Makiko leaned back in her chair again, feigning a relaxed posture that was betrayed by the way she still held herself rather stiffly upright rather than relaxing against the cushioned back. She didn't dare allow herself to let go any of her self-control, both to contain the gnawing need within her and out of wariness she inexplicably felt around the man.

Of course, she didn't really blame the man for not wanting to deal with patients constantly. They tended to be a waste of time, especially now that she had made herself even more than she had once been. Their problems were hardly of interest to her now; she was merely biding her time until she was sufficiently established to become what she knew she must be.