damned_institute | Day 44: breakfast

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Day 44: breakfast

Yuffie had died.

No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…

Had it all been some kind of hallucination?

Had she imagined the whole thing?

No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.

The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.

Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…

[Closed to Sheena]

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"A phone call?" The nurse glanced away from her survey of the crowd in the cafteria, looking mildly surprised. "Oh, no, Mr. Jenkins. I'm afraid that's not possible at all," she replied, shaking her head in what looked like either sympathy or pity. Or both.

"Why don't you just go on to breakfast, then? Maybe you can write a letter to your family later today." With a smile that seemed more suited to coddling a small child, she made a little shooing gesture with one hand and motioned toward the food line. "You wouldn't want to miss out on breakfast, would you?"

[tiassa]

"No," Howl answered too quickly, and then frustratedly clarified, "What I mean is, no, I cannot just write a letter. A letter! This is not a situation that a mere letter can address. And I'm certainly not hungry after what I have just witnessed. You're- you disgust me!" He pointed sharply at the nurse in a dramatic and very emotionally charge gesture. His voice was swiftly losing whatever composure he had been able to muster moments before, and Howl didn't care to try and calm himself. Why should he, after all? He had been patient, and he had tried everything at his disposal to remove himself from this place. For all of his trouble, he wound up with an injured teen and a dead man.

"I demand to be allowed to speak with my family immediately!" Howl stood his ground and raised his voice. "I know what I am entitled to. Even prisoners are allowed to use the telephone! What kind of a pathetic charade are you running here?"

The nurse tsk'ed quietly and sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Please calm down, Mr. Jenkins. You're not a prisoner, you're simply ill, and we're trying our best to help you get better." There seemed to be a silent "you poor dear" that went unspoken at the end of the sentence, but which was clearly visible in the woman's expression.

Even though the nurse seemed entirely unconcerned, though, a rather burly-looking orderly moved up to stand behind her in response to the patient's obvious agitation. He merely took a position behind the nurse with arms folded and expression stern, but it should be enough of a warning without him saying a word.

The nurse continued speaking as though she hadn't noticed her backup arriving, and gestured once more toward the serving line. "Your family will probably come speak to you on visitor day, dear. For now you just need to worry about your own health, because I'm sure they are as well."

Howl certainly noticed the not-so-subtle threat that had moved up behind the nurse. The anxiety that his presence caused only distanced Howl further from rational thought. He pulled himself up to his full height, but no matter how he focused on his anger and let go of any of the stops he had on his magic, nothing happened. The only evidence of his distress was his loud voice and flushed face.

Howl felt powerless, and the more he puffed himself up the more obvious it became that he was not in control. This woman and her orderly were, and Howl's only comfort was that he knew neither of them would be allowed to hurt him. He focused on that fact, even though Howl relized this was not really a mental institution. If this place were genuine, he'd he speaking to a self-satisfied Megan over the phone, and he'd at least be promised regular showers. These people, if they were real people at all, could do whatever they liked to him and he'd have no way of slithering away to safety.

"My family doesn't even know I'm here, do they?" He asked shrilly, but continued without waiting for an answer. "If you're not jailers then you're certainly murderers! I will not be victimized by you any further! You shall not get me!" Howl sharply sidestepped the duo and began making a beeline for the exit from the cafeteria. His long legs propelled him quickly at a brisk and upset walk, as he prayed that he could find a phone somewhere. It would only take a moment, and then he could confirm if he was suspected of insanity or lost someplace very dark indeed.

Even as the man headed for the door to the cafeteria there were suddenly two more orderlies in front of him, with a speed that might make people believe they'd somehow teleported into place. With them in front and the nurse and her companion behind, Howl was being rather neatly boxed in, and several other staff members in the room were taking notice of the little scene as it unfolded.

"Now, Mr. Jenkins, please!" The nurse scurried after to catch up, one hand sliding into her pocket as she did. It was always so regrettable when the patients had to be forcibly sedated, and she hated to do it; hopefully the man would decide to calm down of his own accord. "Your family brought you here because they were concerned for you, and if you'll just let us help you..."

Howl shrunk away from the new orderlies, but the moment of apparent submission didn't last long. He aggressively swung out a hand that ought to have pushed them both neatly aside and cleared a path. Subtlety be damned, Howl wanted to go home. He wanted to hear Megan's voice telling him anything. Telling him that he was insane or embarrassing, or that she was just worried about him and hadn't known what else to do. They had never really known how to speak to one another. Howl silently swore that he would try to forgive her if she had done this to him, if he could only get to a phone.

But there was no pull of magic to back up what might have otherwise been a violent action. Instead it was nothing but an awkward and confusing gesture that left Howl feeling flustered. As soon as he began to believe one theory was true, something happened to support the other.

"I don't want your help!" He screamed at the nurse, with his voice that was cracking under the pressure. She was by far the least intimidating figure.

The orderlies glanced down at the man's hand when he waved at them, both looking mildly puzzled, as though wondering if there was some kind of significance to the gesture. Apparently there wasn't, for nothing happened except for the man becoming even more agitated, so they simply decided that it had to be time for them to take action.

In unspoken agreement he pair stepped forward to take hold of Howl's arms in a grip that was somehow both gentle and solid as stone. There was no more force used than necessary, but it was clear that they could use more if the situation required.

The nurse herself gave a resigned sigh and stepped forward, pulling the prepared syringe from her pocket. She did so hate to do this to the poor patients, but perhaps if he had some rest he'd have time to think and quiet down on his own. "It's all right, Mr. Jenkins," she said in a soothing tone, as she neatly slid needle into flesh and administered the injection. "I understand you're upset, but we can talk when you're calmer, all right?"

"No--!" Objected Howl when he saw the glint of a needle, but it was to no avail. He knew how this little confrontation was about to end. Before the sedative had even kicked in, Howl slumped over in defeat, with his long dark hair falling in front of his face. He knew that he looked very tragic, and thought that if he was about to pass out, he deserved a bit of dignity while doing so. He didn't need to humiliate himself even further, and was almost relieved when he felt the drugs begin to take. It was a lovely excuse to lose focus, and the closest thing to running away that he could manage.

"You great coward," Howl mumbled under his breath. It was the last truly coherent thing he said. Howl sincerely went limp in the grip of the orderlies while he was simultaneously losing grasp on his own mind. He sighed to himself almost inaudibly about mistreatment and someone he called 'old blue face'.

Edited 2009-09-21 01:02 (UTC)

Sadly, the lovely bit of dramatics was entirely wasted on the rather pragmatic nurse and the orderlies with her. Rather than appreciating it, they merely led their now-sedated patient to a nearby vacant spot at one of the tables and settled him carefully into a seat while the sedatives had their effect.

"If you feel up to it later, dear, let me know and I'll bring you some breakfast," the nurse told him, with a smile and pat on his shoulder. And with that she was gone, but not too far away; she'd be close by to keep an eye on him, in case he should seem in danger of tipping out of his chair.

Sakura woke suddenly from her sleep, flinging away the blankets and throwing her things into their hiding spots. She paced nervously as she waited for the nurse to arrive and take her to breakfast, but managed to cool her worry when she stopped in the Sun Room to check the bulletin board. Everyone was okay. Everyone was pretty damn stressed and stretched thin, but they were okay. That in itself was almost enough to make her cry in relief. Jerks, making her worry like that!

She was a little late getting to the cafeteria, insisting that she check the bulletin for any other posts, especially after a night like last night. The nurse allowed it at first, but hurried her along after she'd been writing notes for a good fifteen minutes.

As she walked in, there was a bit of a commotion, though her nurse pushed her on to the line. She glanced back, recognizing the face at least of the man she'd met just the other day. Howell, wasn't it? His hair was different, but that was definitely his face. Sakura picked a few things from the line and walked over, though she'd missed most of the action.

She set her tray down in the seat next to his, touching him cautiously on the shoulder. Damn, they'd gotten to him with the sedatives already? Great. Well, at the very least, she'd be able to see up close what kind of effect the drugs had on the patients here.

"Howell-san? Hey, are you alright?"

Howl had stretched his arms across the table in a sprawled position, with his head resting on them. His hair pooled around his head, but his eyes were exposed so could still look up at the pink figure that was approaching him. He smiled at her, and wondered how old she was, before realizing she had asked him a question.

"Oh," he mumbled, just to acknowledge that he had heard and was not ignoring her. He would sincerely hate for... Ah. What was her name? Sakura? What a strange name. Well, he'd dislike for her to think poorly of him. Though perhaps it would be best if she did. He had a laundry list of those he had failed to do right by. People whom he had known for far longer than this strange, pink haired girl. Hadn't he been prepared to abandon her last night out of cowardice and impatience? Maybe it was some cosmic punishment to have Ryuuzaki collapse and die in front of him. Perhaps it was to remind Howl that he was better off far away from people, or to reprimand him for his willingness to only rescue those who were conveniently located, or any other number of twisted morals.

"Good... morning, Miss Sakura. No, no, I'm not alright." He retracted his arms and folded them under his head, which allowed him to bury his face from view. "Not alright at all." He sounded muffled and pathetic.

For a moment, she hoped it might be someone else under that mess of hair with his already strange eyes looking dazed just a little glassy. Nope, it was Howell alright.

She took up the seat next to him, looking him over once to see if he'd taken any injuries since she'd seen him last. He did seem alright, save for being drugged. If she had access to her chakra, it wouldn't be difficult to separate the drug from his bloodstream and get him feeling better quickly, but of course, this place insisted on making things difficult.

"Would you like to talk about it Howell-san? I'm sure it can be really difficult your first few days here." Hers had been... interesting, but she'd been trained since she was a child to be a ninja. Not everyone had that kind of upbringing.

"You're a very kind girl." Howl smiled again from underneath his arms, despite everything that had happened. The world seemed full of kind people willing to be drawn in by his charms. If he were responsible at all, he would have told Sakura to go away, but he couldn't. He liked her company and attention far too much to be a martyr today. The drugs in his system made him lose track of all of his worries, so he was left simply feeling tired and a bit lonely.

"I saw a man die last night," he muttered. Saying it made it real, and he remained silent for a heavy moment. He finally pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking as though his head weighed a little too much for him to lift. It allowed him to more properly look at Sakura, with the sedatives making his eyes duller and more like marbles than ever.

"My sister... she lives in a world that looks just like this one," he admitted, quick to avoid talking more about Ryuuzaki's death. It still made him feel ill, even through the haze. "I had wanted to call her. I thought, perhaps, I had just dreamed it all, and she could have me released."

Sakura felt her cheeks blush at the sudden compliment, somewhat thrown off by the comment. She pushed it aside fast enough though, lifting her glass of juice and pushing it in his direction.

"Have a drink, it'll help," she offered. It might not speed the process too much, but at least it might get the drugs through his bloodstream a little faster. And any drug was going to be more potent on an empty stomach.

After his explanation she took in a breath and drew it out in a long sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said honestly. And really, she didn't know if she could say a lot more without seeming trite. She'd seen enough people die that she knew how hard it could be. And Howell seemed like someone fairly fragile of spirit, so in his case something like that could be devastating. It was hard to decide if she needed to be firm with him or if she needed to comfort the poor man.

"I'm afraid it isn't a dream. And for a while we're going to have to play by their rules. But you shouldn't give up Howell-san. We'll get out, don't worry."

"Thank you," Howl said gratefully, looking piteous without even having to try. He had to sit up straight to take a sip with any dignity, which was quite a challenge at the moment. As much as Howl often enjoyed wallowing in self-pity and complaining about how no one cared for him, it was a lovely feeling when someone did, even to a small degree. It was probably the driving force behind a good number of selfish things he had done over the years.

"You're horribly optimistic, you know. It's making me feel guilty," he teased blearily, smiling over at her, before taking another sip of the juice.

"But in a place like this, I suppose it's what's needed. I'm afraid I've proven to be quite useless..." Howl collapsed sadly back into the crook of his elbow. Every inch of him seemed to wilt, and he sighed sadly. "I'm usually very adept at escaping from places I don't wish to stay in."

Alright, so it was hard to be mad or abrasive when the guy was so damn cute. He just looked pathetic in a way that made a person want to look out for him. And it wasn't like he wasn't kind too. He'd been polite from the first time she'd met him.

"Don't feel bad," she assured him, watching as he took a few sips of the juice. "We all come from different worlds. What's difficult for some is easy for others and the other way around."

She fiddled with her own water glass for a moment, hoping she could say something to make him feel better. "I used to feel that way all the time, believe it or not. Sometimes it takes a while to figure out the things you can do."

"I'm beginning to form an idea of what my limitations are," said Howl, although there was a very quiet tremor in his voice. Normally, he would have been able to sound as flippant as ever about the serious subject, but the drugs were leaving him stripped. Not only that, but he could scarcely find the energy to care.

Here he was, separated from Calcifer, heartless and forcibly sedated, with scarcely enough magic to fix his hair permanently. Had someone forcibly broken their contract when he was sent here? Had Calcifer simply fizzled out, leaving Howl to slowly wither away..? He missed Calcifer dearly all of the sudden.

"Which world do you come from? Not anywhere like this place, you said so the other day," Howl thought aloud to himself. It helped him keep his thoughts somewhat solid. When he held them all in his head, they dissolved too quickly. "I don't suppose you've ever heard of a country called Ingary? Strangia, perhaps? Rashput..?"

Any other girl probably would've known exactly what to do in this kind of situation. But Sakura's nurturing skills were more than a little lacking. She might be a medic, but matters of the heart was a different story.

"We all have them here," she said, patting his shoulder gently. "Back home I could run on water or punch through thirty feet of rock or even heal a wound in only a few seconds. If we had access to all we used to be able to do, we'd have kicked this place's sorry ass a long time ago. So... maybe it'll take a little longer without those things, but it doesn't mean we can't still do it." At least, that was what she kept telling herself. She had to believe it too, for the sake of her own mental stability. For her, it was never a question of whether or not they'd get out, but a question of when.

Though it was a little hard to keep up with the flow of Howell's thoughts, she tried, and considered his question for a moment.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know any of those places. I'm from a place called Konoha, which was a hidden ninja village, but there were other villages too. Usually there's a village leader, called the Kage, and a Daimyo, who's like, the leader of the whole country around it. There's the Fire country, Water, Sound, things like that."

Howl laughed deliriously at his own poor luck. The wildly foreign names didn't ring a single bell. A great deal of that world had yet to be explored, being just on the edge of colonialism, so it was still possible they were talking about the same place. But somehow, looking at this strange girl, Howl knew she was something else.

"I've never heard of your home either," he admitted. "Alas. There's no harm in asking, I suppose."

The juice was thankfully making his head a bit clearer, and sitting up so he could look at Sakura was no longer such a chore. "Wait," he muttered, as something occurred to him. "Punching through walls and running on water? Are you a witch?"

Howell looked like he was doing a little better, but it was hard to tell. The poor guy seemed so fragile. She hoped Sai got her that sample of the sedative soon, so she could start working on antidotes. Being sedated could hardly be considered productive, after all.

Something seemed to click, though when he said it, she had to wonder if he was still in a daze. Then again, it could be another translation error. Those seemed to be happening a lot. The same words held different meanings depending on what world you were in. "Am I which what?" she asked, scratching her head. "I um... I'm a ninja, well, a kunoichi if you want to be specific."

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Day 44: breakfast

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