damned_institute | Dayshift 43: Waiting Room / Lobby 2 [4th Shift]

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Dayshift 43: Waiting Room / Lobby 2 [4th Shift]

"Now you just have a seat and wait for your visitor like everyone else."

As the nurse went away from him, Kurogane huffed out some agitation but refused to have a seat. Hearing that he had a visitor had been one of the last things he'd expected. It was always the magician who got one, not him. And who the hell would want to visit him anyway?

During his first protests, the nurse had been telling him to behave since it wasn't nice to be sour to girls, so he knew it had to be a girl that was visiting. There were a few of those Kurogane knew could show up as a "visitor" for him, all of which were annoying. Some were worse than others too. He could probably handle if Sohma showed up, and maybe Amaterasu, but when it came to Tomoyo-hime... she was already hard to handle normally, no matter what world she came from. The Piffle version had been pretty much the same, just raised differently. If he saw her, even a fake her, she would probably be just the same and he'd have to at put up with it no matter what.

Eventually he chose to take a seat, knowing that he would not be leaving any time soon. Of course, he picked the one that was furthest into the corner to avoid unwanted conversations. He would already have to deal with a visitor; he shouldn't have to deal with anything more.

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He'd required two cigarettes out in front of building, as well as a small amount of pacing, before Adam could get himself to go inside and meet with the kid he'd come up to see. Absently, he wondered if Luke had already been visited by his parents. Surely it would be awkward if the first one to come see him was his teacher. There was nothing to be done about that now, though. He'd just have to get down to it.

He was already sitting there waiting for him when he came in the room, but he should have expected that. Hopefully he wouldn't have to listen to any reprimands about his lateness. Though, if he did, he'd at least know that the kid remembered who he was. You could never know what to expect from the people undergoing treatment in this place. Some came to themselves faster than others.

"How's it goin', sport?" he greeted, feeling out of place already.

See, this was exactly why Shikamaru had hoped to avoid the whole damn thing. There was a short list of people he very much did not care to see right now (well, a complicated list, as a part of him that he wasn't quite skilled enough to ignore did want to see this man, but certainly not here, and certainly not like this, or under any circumstances that he could imagine). Shikamaru visibly flinched, not taking his eyes from the wall. He would remain as distant from this as possible, but he knew wasn't enough. It wasn't possible to ignore the subtle uneasiness of Asuma's voice, or the particularly strong smell of smoke. Visiting people in a hospital was one thing, but visiting people in a mental hospital was another matter. There would be expectations of Shikamaru in the false world, he imagined: intelligence, a generally calm but aloof demeanor, and a damn strong lazy streak. Shikamaru was sure that he wasn't the type of person that cracked under pressure, even fictionally.

"It's a pain in the ass, but I doubt you'd believe most of it," he said with a small shrug. There was no derision in his voice: it was a simple fact. There was very little chance that this fake Asuma would believe what was happening. Even the real one would give a snort and chuckle of doubt before realizing that Shikamaru was serious.

But he would not think about that now. He would most definitely not think about that now, not about the real world or anything connected to it. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the table, a pointless habit that many others used but Shikamaru had never picked up--useless effort, after all, and even when he did fidget it was by weaving his fingers together--but the best he could do to keep his mind off of the situation was test how well these visitors knew him, and the first test was to see how many of his own subtle differences would go unnoticed. Asuma wasn't as observant as Shikamaru was, but with all their shougi games--no, it must be something else in the fake world, maybe that chess thing, but he still wasn't thinking about it so it didn't matter--Asuma should notice that that something was off. Shikamaru still hadn't looked away from the pale wall, and when he finally did glance to the ceiling, it was the same presumably soothing shade. As if anything could be soothing in a place like this.

He didn't know why they'd chosen this man as a visitor, aside from pure sadism. They must have some relationship in the fake world. For all he knew, Asuma could be his father, and although the two men did share a few traits, Asuma's greeting and the rather strong smell of cigarettes was definitely unmistakable. Most likely he was an uncle or a teacher of some sort, one Shikamaru was close to. "It must have been a hassle to come out here," he said. Even if the place was next door to wherever fake-Asuma lived, it would still be a hassle.

Luke was generally a straightforward individual, but that didn't make the words any less surprising to hear. Adam had tried to prepare himself for the way the boy would react, but he still stopped and raised both eyebrows. He didn't seem pleased to see him. Given the circumstances, he couldn't entirely blame him. He was an incredibly intelligent child, and being in a place like this had to feel beyond demeaning. "Oh, it wasn't too much of a hassle." He was trying far too hard to be cheerful. Luke would notice, but there was nothing he could do about it. "There's not much else for me to do with my Sundays anyway."

Chess, after all, was a two person game.

He stood uncomfortably for a few moments before taking a seat across from the teen. Asking him how he'd been would just be insulting. He was in a mental institution. How did he think he'd been? "Was it wrong of me to want to check up on you when given the opportunity?"

More questions, ones that were even harder to answer. Looking at the ceiling wasn't working any better than the wall, and Shikamaru knew that he'd eventually have to face the man across from him, as much as he didn't want to. While ignoring things he found bothersome was a skill, it was never one he'd used on Asuma: when it came to shougi, he couldn't risk missing an opponent's tell, and when it came to people who mattered to him, he needed to know that they were all right...or when they weren't all right.

So, he forced himself to look away from the ceiling long enough to make eye contact, but even that was harder than expected, and his attention ended on the table. "I may be a nutcase, but I can still tell when something's off with you," he said with a small smirk he intended as false. As much as he tried to set any residual true feelings aside, though, there was something barely perceptible but genuine beneath the expression.

"I guess not," he answered. The words came more freely, though it took conscious effort not to pull his feet to the edge of the chair and his legs to his body. Instead, in a much more familiar pose, he crossed his ankles and rocked the chair back to two legs, folding his fingers behind his neck. Shikamaru had two options: pull into himself, or push away from the situation. If this person knew him as well as Asuma, the latter would seem much more natural. "I'm still surprised to see you, though," he said, wishing he was better at understatement. The questions that needed answers--what did they tell you about me, why am I here, who do you believe I actually am, what's it like out there--would be either laughed away or cause serious concern. Even if this person was a construct or brainwashed blip in the institute's timeline, Shikamaru didn't want to cause unnecessary concern, especially since the odds of a useful answer were so unlikely.

Shikamaru didn't need to glance to the doorway. The room was perfectly mapped in memory, every escape route planned. Something stopped him, though, probably whatever had stopped Sai when Sai tried to tell him about this earlier. He didn't want to leave, as much as he knew that he should. And it was pretty damn rare that Shikamaru had trouble leaving what was clearly a troublesome situation, especially when it was growing more troublesome by the minute.

"I'm sure you can find other game partners while I'm stuck here," he said, shrugging as he guessed at the meaning behind the first statement...any other adult should have plenty to do on Sundays. He looked up again, but still couldn't maintain eye contact, and this time focused on the table between them. "But then," he added, "you might run the risk of winning."

Adam was unable to help a short laugh at Luke's last comment, and he shook his head. There were times he wished the kid wasn't as bright as he was, but then they never would have gotten to know each other so well. "Wouldn't want that. I might start getting overconfident." He'd actually played a couple games with Luke's father the last time he'd been over - lost then too.

He sighed. Others, though not all, that had come to visit patients at the Institute were often left disheartened by the reactions they received from them. This behavior, however, was nothing Adam hadn't expected to some degree. Had he wanted the boy to have forgotten who he was? He wasn't sure that would have made the experience easier or worse.

"Places like these make me uncomfortable," he admitted. "Especially this place. I've known too many of the people brought here and I never know what to say to them. I certainly don't know what to say to you." He rubbed at the hair on the back of his neck. "I'm sure you're still angry about the whole situation."

"Yeah, I figured you'd hate this place. That's why I'm so surprised to see you." The chair wavered, but the movement was under his control. He'd had never fallen off of a chair (without falling asleep first), and he didn't plan to start anytime soon. Both Kakashi and Sai had warned him about visitors, but he hadn't expected this. Sure, he'd doubted that he'd feel complete horror, but a sense of emotional violation strong enough to make him prefer sedation had seemed like a safe guess. What he felt now, though, was becoming more dangerous than unpleasant. Of course he didn't want to stay in this imaginary world---the main reason he needed to get out was a final promise made to the man in front of him, and absolutely nothing could make him forget that. But the conversation? It felt real enough for him to temporarily ignore that it was a product of Landel's timeline manipulation and brainwashing. He should leave. He wished that he wanted to leave. But he could do this. Right? He could handle this.

"Just talk to me like you always do," he said, fully aware of the risk. He already felt too open, vulnerable, but that was part of most of his mid-games. It was a common technique, and he'd been in situations like this before. If he wanted to succeed, he had to give the illusion of a weak defense. Even if it wasn't an illusion.

Think calmly. Focus. The dead were dead, and he'd dealt with that. Would continue to deal with that. This was not a casual conversation over a shougi board. It was an opportunity to gain information about the institute. He blinked for a second too long, glanced to the ceiling, then again forced himself to look at Asuma. This time, he didn't look away.

He did fold his arms, though, and rock back a little further. "You know me better than that, anyway. It's not like I'm easy to upset. Wearing this grey stuff doesn't change that." He tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. If their relationship was strong enough to get Asuma to visit him in a mental hospital, they had to know each other fairly well. "The whole thing's a pain in the ass, yeah, but they're doctors, and I'm not. They say I'm sick, so I must be sick. If I'm sick, I have to get better. It's not exactly high-level strategy." Again, he shrugged. Based on Asuma's phrasing, there was something for Shikamaru be angry about, though, and he didn't know what it was. He wondered if there were notes or files somewhere that the patients could access.

"There are things I don't remember, though," he said, voice both casually interested and concerned. "I'm not sure why. Maybe part of whatever's wrong with me. It's like my life's like a riddle and I'm trying to put it together, but I'm missing too much information." Again, he hoped his false personality was close to his real one...the real Asuma might buy that. "You're the first person to visit me. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I'd rather hear this stuff from someone I trust than some doctor I've never met. What happened?"

Adam closed his eyes and rubbed at his beard as Luke spoke. Despite what he'd hoped, and how it had almost appeared, it looked as though the boy really did have some issues with his memory. Why did that always seem to be the most affected area with these patients? Was it an actual illness that affected that brain? It wouldn't have surprised him if so.

He was taken back to hear that he was Luke's first visitor. His parents hadn't even been by yet? The boy's father was likely being stubborn. He was sure his mother would force him up here eventually.

The man sighed. "Well, I couldn't tell you what's wrong with you. Wish I could. If I knew how to diagnose and fix these things you wouldn't be in here." He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket, sticking a piece in his mouth before offering one to Luke. "When you started, you know..." Losing it was probably the best way to put it, but it didn't seem right to say that straight to the kid's face. "We kinda lied to you to get you up here, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure we could have handled things better than we did."

Shikamaru sighed and glanced up, rolling his eyes, aware that he was being coddled and very much not appreciating it. He held back his retort, though, remembering that the purpose of this was collecting information, and, more importantly, remembering that the man across from him was not Asuma. Hearing an apology in the familiar voice was disorienting, though, and after he was done expressing his contempt through eye-rolling, it was enough to force him to refocus.

"I don't expect you to know what's wrong with me," he said, waving away the stick of gum. A rush of memory hit him, so strong it was almost violent, when he remembered the taste of cigarettes. What a pain they were to smoke, but how he sometimes still wanted to. Not often. Rarely. Almost never. But he wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about this false reality, and focusing, and working.

"Yeah? You lied and I bought it? I don't remember any of that," he said, raising an eyebrow. True, he would have believed anything the real Asuma told him, and the 'we' implied that other people he trusted had been involved as well, but Shikamaru forced himself to recall that these were not the people he knew. Even if they were, they'd been taken from a different time and reconditioned, like some of the patients at night. A person could be taken from after their deaths, like Jiraiya and Kakashi. Shikamaru frowned, watching Asuma closely. There was no line across his cheek, but that wasn't enough to tell. What would he remember, if he was real? Hours? Months? Weeks? Certainly not years.

Shut up. Shut up. He closed his eyes briefly. Ignored the smell of tobacco, ignored everything that he could ignore. Focused on his objective.

He couldn't risk rocking the chair any further without losing his balance, so he let it drop to a stable position and neatly folded his legs as if preparing for a game. "I just want to know what happened," he said in the same calm tone. "What made me go nuts, and how I ended up here. I don't want an apology. I trust your judgment, so trust mine, and let me do whatever I can from my end. If everyone keeps trying to protect me, we're never going to get anywhere."

It was almost relieving to know that Luke didn't remember how he'd been brought there. Only almost, because now that meant he had to tell him about it. Yes, things could be left unsaid, but the boy would figure out pieces were missing. That was the main reason they'd had to lie to begin with - if he'd found out, he might have figured a way out of it. His parents just wanted him to get better.

"It wasn't that grand of a scheme. Your family started announcing weeks in advance that you had a dentist appointment that day and that the office had a new location. Your parents were at work, so I drove. You took a nap in the back seat and by the time you realized where you were there were orderlies waiting at the car door." He wasn't even looking at Luke now, once again rubbing at the back of his neck. "We wouldn't have been able to get you up here otherwise."

He shook his head, finally forcing himself to keep both hands still in his lap. "I don't really know when it started. You and I would be playing a game and you'd make some odd offhand comment about someone with an unfamiliar name. I thought maybe you'd gotten into those strange Japanese cartoons or something. Then other times you'd stare at the board like you expected to be seeing a different sort of game, like you didn't have the right pieces." He inhaled deeply. "It just kept getting worse from there."

Asuma was right; it wasn't that grand of a scheme. He was almost embarrassed to have fallen for it. Shikamaru knew that he could be too trusting, though, especially when it came to those close to him. He'd never considered it a fault, though others might disagree. Shikamaru had never been wrong, though, either: those close to him had never betrayed him, and even this didn't count. He wasn't happy about it, sure, but then, another of his faults was that he didn't always know when he needed help.

The series of thought lasted five seconds before it was severed with enough force that Shikamaru pulled back into his chair, stunned. Outwardly, he might have just seemed surprised at the revelation, but inwardly he saw what had happened: he'd fallen for it. All of it. For a second, for five seconds, he'd believed what this man told him.

He needed to leave. Now. He wasn't ready for this, wasn't prepared. From a strategic standpoint, retreat was the best option. The only option. He looked at the man across from him with with wide eyes, reviewing every significant memory he had of their interaction, and with Shikamaru's attention to detail, it was not a short list. He didn't stop when he wanted to but forced his mind through the entire experience, through every moment he could have considered the man his teacher. He could think quickly, but it was still a long process to review...a process that, as he'd told Kurenai, had made him into the person he was.

"Na, you were right," he finally said. Shikamaru's voice was still calm, collected. He'd drawn a line that he wouldn't allow himself to cross, and as lazy as the young ninja could be, he was just as determined. He didn't know how long it would hold, but it was there, and the for now, two worlds were separate. "If I was acting like that and you guys couldn't snap me out of it, I belonged here." Relaxed demeanor, fingers crossed behind his neck. Impeccably Shikamaru. "I need to get back to that therapy junk, though," he said, palms against the table to push back his chair. Leave, the voice told him. This was what he'd been warned about, though he hadn't understood at the time. Now. Get out of here. "Thanks for telling me all that stuff." The room seemed to be clearing out, so his departure wouldn't be suspicious. Fake-Asuma, he imagined, was probably struggling too much after ten minutes without a cigarette to notice anything strange. "Thanks for coming," he added, voice quiet, aware of the risk and the fact that, had there been a shougi table between them, this could have been a critical error. "It was good to see you again."

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Dayshift 43: Waiting Room / Lobby 2 [4th Shift]

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