“What, do you mean, messed with him?” Shinichi asked, puzzled. Heiji wasn’t making any sense. Something blotted out the moon, and…hair? Was it possible that the patient had just snapped, and in his injured/sedated state, Heiji was imagining things? It seemed likely.
He sighed. “I don’t think that Sen would be that careless, no,” he agreed. She was—<>was; it was still so hard to grasp—a samurai chick from the Bakumatsu, wasn’t she? And now she was dead. Killed by a psycho patient. That much, Shinichi understood. God. Did Okita know? Did they want Okita to know? Shinichi sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to break the news.
At any rate, Heiji wasn’t doing very well right now. Not by a long shot. Shinichi knew he had to keep interviewing, but part of him wanted to spare his friend the pain of reliving it, at least until the drugs had finished passing through his system. “Do you want to stop talking about it until the sedatives wear off? You can try to sleep for a bit, if you want. I’ll wake you up when we get to town.”
no subject
He sighed. “I don’t think that Sen would be that careless, no,” he agreed. She was—<>was; it was still so hard to grasp—a samurai chick from the Bakumatsu, wasn’t she? And now she was dead. Killed by a psycho patient. That much, Shinichi understood. God. Did Okita know? Did they want Okita to know? Shinichi sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to break the news.
At any rate, Heiji wasn’t doing very well right now. Not by a long shot. Shinichi knew he had to keep interviewing, but part of him wanted to spare his friend the pain of reliving it, at least until the drugs had finished passing through his system. “Do you want to stop talking about it until the sedatives wear off? You can try to sleep for a bit, if you want. I’ll wake you up when we get to town.”