Day 44: breakfast

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

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]

Comments

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

_{[free, if any of the girls need a bathroom break]}

The morning went on without Tsubaki, who woke up wide-eyed and shuddering, donned in the soft greys of the Landel’s uniform with her hair feathered around her. Like it’d all been a dream. A terrible, terrible dream.

But it hadn’t been, and in a daze, she was led through the usual routine, a passenger in her own body. She hadn’t even thought to draw her hair up as she did every morning, and it stayed in a tumble around her shoulders as she stepped up to the bulletin board. There would be notes, she’d thought. There were every day. Maybe some thoughts, some explanations, maybe some word from her friends. Tsubaki scanned each message, absorbing everything, but with a numbness between her head and her heart that wouldn’t let her feel what she was reading. Not yet.

So people had experienced something, too, something that’d set off the furious tone on the board…

Died, because of…?

Tsubaki felt fine, no wounds, no voices or moans in her ears, no visions that danced in front of her eyes. She hadn’t died. She was perfectly healthy, warm again, and everything around her was noise and sunlight, standing in stark opposition to cold, slick darkness and the smell of camellias…

“Excuse me… I have to go to the bathroom,” she said weakly, and backed out of the cafeteria, back through the double doors, back through the Sun Room. She mumbled more ‘excuse me’s in cutting through throngs of prisoners, head down, until she was finally inside the bathroom and was pressing her back to the door. Silence greeted her. There was no one there but her.

Then she broke.

Whooping for breath like she hadn’t breathed in a million years, Tsubaki stumbled to a sink, clutching the counter with white-knuckled fingers. In the mirror, she was fine. A smiley face sat where before blood had been gushing from a fatal stab wound, not from the katana as she knew it, but from a ninja blade. She knew how deep the knife had went, how final a blow it had been, because she’d put it there herself--she’d felt it--but now there was nothing. Her brother’s image chased away like every other nocturnal menace.

Tears choked her, forcing a pathetic noise from her throat. Putting her hand to her mouth, Tsubaki bent over the sink, tears rising hot in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks to patter in the basin. It was the breaking point. She’d held back so much over a week, and now it rose up in a suffocating wave, rolling over her like the ocean’s surf. Nii-san, why? Why had that happened? Why did these memories keep being pushed to the surface, and the dead along with them? Was that what happened when prisoners disappeared so suddenly? And for those that hadn’t, those like her brother who had died in peace somewhere else, were their essences being dragged into the same nightmare and tortured? His death, she’d felt it…

Tsubaki was bent so far over her forehead nearly touched the counter, but as the muffled sobs began, she stumbled back and made for one of the bathroom stalls. No one deserved to see her like this, not one of the nurses, not a fellow prisoner. The grief felt endless. If no one came looking for, she would be thankful.

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

The first thing Hokuto heard when she entered the bathroom was someone sobbing; she looked into the stall discreetly to see if it was anyone she knew, and seeing that it wasn't, for the moment she went into a stall herself. Since the girl was in here, she probably wanted privacy, and she might just be taking a minute to compose herself.

When the girl was still crying alone after Hokuto had finished in there, she hesitated at the sink. She doesn't know me... but I didn't really know Falis either when she found me in here. While she dried her hands, she took a moment to think of what to say; even if the girl didn't want comfort, she might need it.

Going over to her, she knocked on the partition to get her attention. "Hey," she said gently. "Rough night?"

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

The night before, the dead had risen up and encompassed the town Doyleton--seemingly mindless dead, husks without any kind of soul--and then before the prisoners could catch their breaths, again, last night…

The dead again, only personal. Something in their hearts made reality again.

Tsubaki couldn’t get the sight of her brother out of her mind as she’d seen him in the hospital hall. He’d looked… pained. Bloody and in pain, and what made it worse was not being able to feel that pulse of memory that lived inside her. Her brother’s soul weaved with her own. There was no counter to the ghastly look of him but what she knew was true--that he had shown her, at the last minute, that he had accepted the outcome as she had, giving his sword form up to her tranquilly. She’d killed him, but… not out of bitterness. And she hadn’t received bitterness from him in the end.

But she knew so little… And this place, it’d taken him, too! Everyone was left so desolated in the wake of whatever fight was happening between Landel and the other man, even those who had already been put to rest. It wasn’t right! To torture the memory of the fallen, or to torture those who were still alive, take them away from their homes and their loved ones, take these instances in their lives and pervert them… All for what? What was the point!? Tsubaki wanted to fight, but who was she fighting against? How could she help anyone? How could she put this… what she’d seen, felt, heard… behind her? Make sense of it? Accept it?

It hurt so much… she just wanted to stay there for a little longer…

The wish was a selfish one. She knew it when the bathroom door squeaked open, and Tsubaki was still unable to calm herself. The river of her emotions had always been quiet and steady, under spoken, but this sorrow poured out of her like a river flooded in the wake of a rainstorm. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, encouraging deep breaths in order to hush her sniffles. Even if she was the type to want the attention, she couldn’t cry forever.

At the eventual knock, Tsubaki swallowed, using both hands to wipe tears away, even as more fell. “It’s over now…” she assured in low tones, forcing her voice steady. It was all over now. She just needed… time. Moving on to push hair out of her way, the girl straightened. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine now.”

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

Hokuto shook her head. "If you want to be alone, that's fine, but don't tell me you're okay." She'd been there, too many times, and she knew a brave face when she saw one.

"I'm not going to try to force you to tell me anything, but if you need to talk, or just a shoulder to cry on, I'm here." She gave the girl a sad smile; maybe she was being a hypocrite, considering how often she put on smiles she didn't feel, but she wanted to help her if she could.

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

It was hard to convince someone otherwise in the state she was in; Tsubaki wasn’t blind to how much weeping alone in a bathroom gave away.

Brushing away another trail of wetness, she pulled the door opened fully and stepped out of her poor hiding spot. Perhaps it was just being on her feet or having someone with her, but she felt less like she was going to come apart at the seams if she didn’t get a moment to herself. “Really,” Tsubaki tried again. She smiled down at the girl in return, a faint, resigned expression that impressed the point.

Nothing was really okay, and there was no point in trying to deny how she‘d been caught, but she didn’t need to say that. Tsubaki believed she would be okay soon, and that was enough right then.

“With everything that goes on here, last night was… a little too much at once, that’s all.” She brought her arm up to clean her face more proactively. It wasn’t a lie. The Institute was tough any day with the staff, the nightshifts, the disappearances, the more violent episodes that kept on happening, but in Tsubaki’s case… there’d been her parents, her visitors… and her brother… The bodily pain of that phantom stab wound was really nothing in comparison to the rest of it. “Thank you, though. I didn’t want to be a bother, but being out there with the nurses…”

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

"It's not a bother," Hokuto assured her. What would be the point of being here if I just ignored people in pain? "I'm not going to claim I know how you feel, but 'it's all too much' is awfully common here." She smiled again, ruefully. "Even when some of what's happening is good, most of the time there's a lot to take in here." And for most of the people here, almost nothing here was good. Hokuto had no intention of leaving until Landel's was nothing but ashes, and she still had trouble coping from time to time.

"If you don't feel like going back to your room, at least they sometimes pretend to give us privacy in here."

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

“Yeah… I guess it would be…” was Tsubaki’s halting answer.

Every second, she felt more in control of herself. If she could just focus on something else, this person, a conversation… she could begin to tuck away the raw experiences of last night. She could deal with this, whether or not she could make sense of it. She could try her best and not upset anyone else by losing her cool. Slowing her torrent of tears into a trickle was a start.

Falling into the morning song and dance and felt like an impossible task, but once she got herself together to leave the bathroom… well, step by step. That was the key. Somehow the girl didn’t think the nurse would understand what her problem was if she asked to go lay down--the thought that the woman would assume Tsubaki was homesick after so short of visitor shift yesterday made her heart seize up--and Tsubaki wouldn’t ask, either way. Hypocritical to think now, having burst into tears after ducking into a bathroom, but there was no point to hiding out in her room.

This pain of hers didn’t make her special. It just made her another victim, and that had to be stopped. She couldn’t sit out.

A small sniff, a blink to clear her lashes, and then Tsubaki gave a larger, more sure smile. “I’ll head back out in a minute, I think. I should eat something, anyway.” In her own wordless way, she made it clear it was okay for the other girl to return to her own breakfast without waiting around for Tsubaki.

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

"At least the food's decent, when we can make ourselves eat." Ironic, really. She'd never seen hospital food she would have wanted to eat until she was brought here, but she still had to force down some meals.

She smiled back at Tsubaki, but when she moved it was only to lean against the stall partition; she wasn't going anywhere until the girl got into the cafeteria found a friend to sit with. She was standing far enough back so she could be maneuvered around, but she still intended to stay with her until pretty much chased off. Friendly company, even if they were both being a little quiet, was better than being alone any day.

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

Tsubaki knew what the other girl was trying to do, and it was a kindness… like what she herself had tried to do for Endrance, when she’d come across him weeping in the Sun Room.

… that there would always be people willing to support others when they fell down was something worth holding on to, wasn’t it?

She thought of Black☆Star and what he would say, what he would do, and a fresh set of tears wanted to wash over her. If he was here as the Black☆Star that I know… But Tsubaki only stepped around the girl to head toward the sinks. “It’s not bad in that way,” she agreed, turning on the water so that she could clean her face up. She tried not to look in the mirror as she did so.

Although it could be equally uncharitable to push away someone who was simply trying to help, Tsubaki still felt like she needed to make that help unnecessary. What had her upset… what had hit her hard in those secret places in her heart… she couldn’t put that into words for a stranger and make them suffer along with her. Her family, especially, was a private pain. So as she splashed water and scrubbed away the evidence of her outburst, Tsubaki turned to address the girl while she dried. “It’s nice of you to stay. My name is Tsubaki.”

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

"I've always been glad when people did it for me," she said honestly. "I'm Hokuto."

Even from here, they could hear the cafeteria just fine, and not at all to her surprise, someone was yelling loud enough to probably get sedated. That did happen at breakfast a lot. "I think I'm starting to dislike mornings even more now." She wasn't trying to coax Tsubaki into talking, just commiserating with her. "Compared to the intercom, I even miss my alarm clock ringing way too early in the morning. And the rush to get out the door if I hit the snooze alarm too many times; we should start some daytime clubs, or something, just to have something to do besides this place's usual."

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

She smiled at that. “It’s nice to meet you, despite everything.”

Tsubaki was a little grateful the talk had moved away from what she’d been doing and why; it was easier to get her composure in order when Hokuto seemed happy to chat. As she patted down her face with some paper towels, she listened to the girl’s complaints.

Mornings were high-strung for a lot of reasons. The sudden switch from whatever had been happening at night--nothing good--to the constricted hospital life took its toll on people. Tsubaki couldn’t pretend she was any different; sometimes, especially that day, she just wanted to sit alone to try and deal, but Hokuto was also right, in that some kind of activity would help. Take people’s minds off of things. Let them funnel their emotions into something…

“Normal life seems far away…” It was another agreement, spoken lowly. When Tsubaki faced the girl again, she looked drastically improved, no trace of sorrow left on her. Like a sudden rainstorm now gone. “That’s a good idea, to get people involved,” she told Hokuto. Smiling too hard would be overkill, so let her subdued expression remain.