Day 46: Intercom, Noon

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The intercom announcement commenced with its usual jingle.

"Hello, everyone, and I hope not too many of you dozed off in the Sun Room today! A ha ha..." The Head Doctor's chuckle was loud and confident; it seemed he'd completely and officially gotten over whatever had been eating at him just a couple of days before. He continued with a hearty: "Anyway, next on today's schedule is some delicious lunch! Namely... pizza! Of several varieties, too! Cheese, pepperoni, sausage, tomatoes and basil, pineapple and ham... well, I don't quite understand the appeal of that last one, but... nevertheless! Many choices for your enjoyment! Of course, we also have our usual assortment of drinks and salad bar options – fruits, vegetables, legumes... the works. As sides for the pizza, we have potato chips and garlic bread with marinara sauce.

"Mmm... doesn't your mouth water just thinking about it? I suppose that's the cue for your nurses to escort all of you to your next meal. I hope that those of you in therapy made some notable progress and I'll talk to you after lunch!"

The intercom clicked off.

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[churchbelled.livejournal.com]

This wasn't where Shizuru remembered going to sleep. She was certain of it. In fact, she barely remembered going to sleep at all. She remembered fighting, and she remembered watching a broken and feverish Natsuki; she remembered cool desperation to get her somewhere she could be safe. The idea that she would go to sleep at such a time? Nonsense. Pure nonsense.

But perhaps her memories had become a little scrambled, even if surely they should be sharper than ever. Perhaps she'd taken Natsuki to safety and then blanked out after that. But no: that didn't fit. Shizuru made it her business to know as many places as possible around Fuuka Academy (quite a few more than most others would imagine she did). This, she was quite sure, wasn't one of them. She sat up in bed, as calmly as possible, and examined both her surroundings and her new clothes with a careful and rather dismayed eye. The room was blank, and the outfit was vulgar. This was nowhere she'd have come of her own volition.

So she'd been caught--by whom, she had no idea, but it was safe to assume she was a captive. The wild urge to call Kiyohime here and now and tear this place to pieces came to her--she could hardly wait here and scheme her way slowly to freedom while Natsuki was in such a state. But there was no telling what consequences that would cause, for both her and Natsuki. She didn't have the time to scheme her way out, but she could at least fight her way out in as orderly and calm a fashion as possible. Shizuru rose to her feet and called her Element to her hands.

Or rather, she tried to. Nothing happened. For a long moment, she stood there, staring uncomprehendingly at her empty hands. She was somewhere unrecognizable, she could not summon her Element, and Natsuki was still in danger. There could no longer be any delay. "Kiyohime," she murmured, refusing to let her desperation reach her voice.

Had she really expected anything to happen? No, not really. Which was why she started slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder. A woman dressed in a nurse's garb looked at her with concern. "It sounds like your sleep wasn't very restful, Lilian," said the stranger.

"I beg your pardon," Shizuru said. "Who might this Lilian be?"

The woman dressed as a nurse gave her a careful, fixed smile. "It must have been a very bad night if you're not responding to your own name. You should come relax over a nice lunch. It's pizza today."

This was completely wrong, and Shizuru knew it. But neither her Element nor her Child came to her. Whatever she was called here, Shizuru couldn't fight. But she refused to believe she was helpless. She would play along with this game until she could lay her hands on the power to escape--or at least to find out what they'd done with Natsuki.

"That sounds like a fine idea," she said. "Why don't you lead me there?"

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Dammit! Bucciarati thought to himself as he thrashed around in his bed, Just a few more inches! Come on!

All of a sudden, Bucciarati's eyes flew open. He paused for a moment as he took in his surroundings and then proceeded to jump out of the bed he was in.

"W-What the hell's going on?!" Bucciarati shouted, "Where am I?!"

"Michelangelo!" said a voice from behind Bucciarati, "Is everything alright in there?"

He spun around to face the voice, only to see a door slowly being opened. With no time to summon Sticky Fingers, Bucciarati could only stand there cornered, cursing his luck. He braced himself for the barrage of attacks that would undoubtedly follow the door being opened. Bucciarati gritted his teeth and braced himself when the door was finally opened, only to see...a nurse?

"Did you have a bad dream, Michelangelo?" she said delicately.

"Michelangelo?" Bucciarati repeated, his stance mellowing somewhat. He looked around to see if anyone else was in the room. She didn't mean him, did she?

"Yes, did you have a bad dream, Michelangelo?" she said, stepping forward slowly, "I heard a commotion in here and...oh, my! I completely forgot! Today is your first day at the institute!"

"...Institute?" Bucciarati repeated, now more confused than aggressive. What the hell was she talking about?

"Indeed, Michelangelo!" the nurse said brightly, "This is your first day at Landel's Institute, one of the best mental institutions in the United States! Your family sent you here so you could recover from your...condition."

"I...my family sent me here? That's impossi-" Bucciarati said before his eyes grew wide with shock. Of course. Right before he had blacked out, Bucciarati had been fighting the boss. The only logical conclusion that Bucciarati could come up with was that the boss had sent Bucciarati to the states under a forged identity to keep him out of the picture. Considering Passione's influence, it certainly wasn't too far-fetched. The only question was...why had the boss kept Bucciarati alive? Wouldn't it have made more sense to just kill him?

Well, Bucciarati could figure that out later. Right now, he had this nurse to deal with. He quickly calmed himself and smiled back at the nurse, "Ah, right. Yeah, I was just having a bad dream. It must have been the stress. I'm sure you can understand."

"Oh, there's no need to worry, Michelangelo!" the nurse laughed, "Rest assured that you're in the best of hands here at Landel's! Now let's get moving. I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss lunch!"

"I most certainly wouldn't!" Bucciarati chuckled as he followed the nurse out of his room.

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