Hello everyone!

Thank you for some sort of interest in this story. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Feel free to drop a comment, all opinions welcome.

I know this chapter is ridiculously short but I liked the way it was turned out as I was writing it. (I'm not good at writing long chapters anyway.) lol

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own YOI or it's characters. Only the plot and the hospital.

I see you, can you see me?

Chapter 1: New arrivals

8th February 1946 - Hōplis lunatic asylum - Saint Petersburg, Russia

Personal Record of patient: 31219

Personal and statistical particulars:
Registration no: 331

Full Name: Katsuki Yuri

D.O.B: 29th November 1923 - Age: 23

Origin: Hasetsu, Japan
Religion: Unknown
Gender: Male
Colour of race: White
Present Residence: Hōplis lunatic asylum - Lotto Block: Wing D - Room 3
Previous Residence: Psychiatric hospital, Japan
Date of transfer: 7th February 1946

Medical Diagnosis:

Clinical depression and mild schizophrenia
Threat level: 6

Observations and behaviour:

Diagnosed at age: 16

Claims 'voices' make him feel in different ways.
Self-harm with any sharp object he gets a hold of.
Have panic attacks frequently.
Depressive thoughts
Detachment from reality

Treatment:

Straitjacket needed, 18 hours daily.
Reasons: suicidal
Medication: Review and prescribe anti-psychotic drugs - On going

A tired sigh escaped my lips as I pushed my glasses back up my nose whilst reading through the new batch of patient files that arrived in the mail this morning.
My name is Viktor, Dr. Viktor Nikiforov and chief physician at Hōplis hospital. (Asylum is such an ugly word.)
The time is 22:15pm; the hospital is quiet, good. Hopefully there will be no incidents tonight.
Getting up to stretch my legs, I walked over to the miniature dark wood cabinet and took out a small bottle of vodka.
Downing a shot I grimaced at the bitterness but I instantly felt the warmth of the translucent liquid snaking its way down to my stomach and heating my insides up.
Feeling better I continued looking though the current file. I flipped over the next page; it contained a black and white photograph of the patient that I couldn't help but stare into those scared looking eyes looking back at me. I will admit, this man in the photograph looked almost normal. Sane even.
"Yuri Katsuki, what is your story?" I whispered to myself. I found myself staring at the man in the picture for a while before taking another shot of the potent beverage before moving on to the next file that contained details of a teenager suffering from IED. And what a loaded cannon he is. I've already had several sessions with this patient, he doesn't give much away. A closed ticking time bomb.

Personal record of patient: 20015

Personal and statistical particulars:
Registration no: 115

Full name: Yuri Plinsetsky
D.O.B: 1st March 1931 - Age: 15
Origin: Moscow, Russia
Religion: Atheist
Gender: Male
Colour of race: White
Present Residence: Hōplis lunatic asylum - Lotto Block: Wing D - Room 4
Previous Residence: Juvenile institution - Moscow
Date of Transfer: 29th January 1946

Observations and behaviour:

Diagnosed at age: 10

Frequent aggressive attacks -verbal and physical
Loss of control over emotions
Angry outbursts
Destruction of nearby objects/property

Medical Diagnosis:

IED - Intermittent Explosive Disorder
Threat level: 8

Treatment: Straitjacket or restrained to bed - To be discussed. Possible ECT sessions.

With a big yawn I got up to pour myself another shot of vodka, temperatures can drop well below -40C in the winter months in Russia. My Russian blood only keeps me immune to some level of coldness. More's the pity. I glanced at the clock again, 23:00pm; I decided I wasn't going home tonight. The roads would be perilous to drive through and it was snowing outside plus I've been drinking.

As I cleared another glass, I then decided to bring the bottle over to my work desk with me. Feeling that there wasn't going to be any disruptions tonight, I locked the office door and shrugged out of my doctors' attire, into something more comfortable from the adjacent room.
It was set up as a makeshift bedroom/living quarters for the days where I had to stay at the hospital.
I fed more wood to the small fireplace to the left of my office; then I settled back into my comfy leather office chair and continued reading the next patient that has recently arrived.

Personal record of patient: 53014

Personal and statistical particulars:
Registration no: 265

Full name:

That was the last thing I read as I fell asleep. The 4 shots of Rykobka sang me a warm relaxing lullaby.

The next morning arrived all too early for my liking, I realised I'd fallen asleep in my chair, definitely going to feel it today. My body is ageing although I'm only 28! (Not that old, still in my prime.)
As I rose into a full body stretch, I let out another sigh of relief when my bones cracked into place. Whilst readying myself for the morning rounds, I took a quick wash in the small wash basin, dressed in a simple white shirt, a grey jumper, black dress trousers and lastly my white doctors coat, I then mentally prepared myself for the nightly updates from the nurses and other night staff before beginning my rounds to each patient.

At Hōplis we house 150 patients. Most patients are from private families that have been dumped here to hide their blip of shame. Cruel world but with World War II now over, everyone is trying to find their place in society again and the wealthy don't want to see invalids amidst the crowd.
What the wealthy want, they get.
This place is no stranger to a homeless person or a crippled elderly that have been abandoned by humanity, the workhouses and sweatshops won't even take them in.

I've built this hospital from the ground up, like Jesus to a child I welcome the unfortunate souls and try to help them get better. To say it surprised a lot of people is an understatement but surprising people is my motto. And that's why my building of sanctuary has been so successful.
I've received praise after praise, awards and recognitions for my philosophy.

It is currently 7.38am, I head down the hallway of the Lotto block, (this is the ward that houses the special patients.) I was met with the head nurse Lilia who was sitting at her desk going through some paperwork.
"Morning Lilia, how were the patients last night?" I inquire.
Lilia is a middle aged woman, with piercing green eyes and takes her job seriously. She nodded a greeting at me as she flipped through the pages on a clipboard she always carries around with her.
"All was quiet with patients 331, 265, 177 and 454 but 115 caused quite a ruckus; he was starting to upset the other patients with his outbursts so we moved him into isolation for time out. He's been there all night."
I narrowed my eyes, taking in this information. "Why was I not notified of this incident?" My voice border lining on anger.
Lilia was quiet for a moment, thinking carefully on what answer to give me. Then she looked me squarely in the eye.
"We handled the situation well enough to not warrant your presence here Sir. As head nurse at this hospital, I'm qualified to deal with unruly patients."
She is a proud person and confident in herself and has a no nonsense attitude, this is one of the reasons why she's working here. I need people like her on my team.
"Of course, your reputation precedes you." I nod my head in acknowledgment. Back to business, "Right then, if the patients are willing, they can go to the Rec room for breakfast and to get some exercise. Keep this ward separate from the other inmates. One ward at a time, one hour each."
Lilia nodded at me, letting me know she understands the tasks I've just given.
"Very good sir." Before she left she asked: "what of patient 115?"
"I'll see to him myself." Then I left Lilia to carry out her morning duties as I walked to the end of the ward where the padded cells were. Unlocking the first door on the right, I stood on the threshold and was greeted with a blur of bright blonde hair of a skinny boy.
"About damn time you let me out!" The kid shouted at me in greeting.
Remaining calm, noting he has been put in a straitjacket, limiting his chances of any violent attacks, good.
"Do you think you've earned the right to be let out of this cell, Yuri?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaned slightly against the door frame.
"I want to be let out of this damn thing! I can't feel my arms and my skin itches so bad!" The kid was still yelling. A steam of Russian expletives flew out of his mouth as he kicked at the thickened fabric on the wall. He huffed in annoyance.
"Will you behave if I take it off you?"
The boy remind silent for a moment, contemplating the options.
After a while Yuri replied: "Will you let me out of here as well?" He asked so quietly that if I wasn't observing him closely, I would have missed the attitude change; his aggressive anger seems to have subsided, replacing his emotion with vulnerability.
"That depends on you." I said simply.

Yuri glared at me, his emerald eyes bore into mine, trying to stare me down.

Naturally it doesn't work, I smile at him for his efforts though.

"Alright, I'll release you, but any funny business and you're coming straight back here. Understood?"

Yuri didn't say anything he just turned his back to me, waiting to be let out of the dreadful fabric restricting his arms.

"There you go. Now remember, behave yourself and don't cause any harm to the other patients." I said sternly.

Yuri seemed unfazed at my warning.

"Yeah yeah whatever, out of my way geezer I'm hungry."

As I watched Yuri walk down the ward, the teen was flexing his arms, trying to get the blood flow back into them, he then stopped at a door and peered in. A look of annoyance crossed over his face and he pointed at something in the room.

"Oi, we don't need two Yuris here. Go ahead and kill yourself already."

Anger flashed through me. "YURI! What did I just say?!" I rushed down the hall towards the defiant boy. Yuri saw me coming and ran off down the hallway.

I reined in my irritation by pinching the bridge of my nose but was caught off guard by a small noise. I looked up to where the sound was coming from, and there he was. Sitting on the edge of the metal bed, head bowed so his black hair was partially blocking his face, blue rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as a steady flow of tears were running down his cheeks, whimpering silently. The straitjacket wrapped around him tightened as if he was hugging himself.

The sight of the man made my heart ache. I opened his door and stepped over the threshold into his room, being careful not to overstep into his personal space.

From what I guessed from Yuri, this was the Japanese Yuri. The clinical depressed with multiple personalities.

I haven't had any sessions with this Yuri yet, I found myself staring at the man. I'm always at a loss for words when faced with crying people. I'm never sure how to comfort them.

But lucky Yuri stopped crying and in a nanosecond locked eyes with me with such intensity that his gaze was making me nervous.

"Who are you?" His accented voice full of confidence.

I take a second to process a coherent sentence. "I'm Viktor." 'Just Viktor?' I cursed myself. I was about to correct myself and say my full name and title when Yuri cut me off and questioned me again, "Are you a patient here? Are you one of usss?" Hissing slightly, he cocked his head to the side. His chocolate eyes burning brightly.

My mouth flopped open like a fish. I was dumbfounded that he was making me speechless.

Yuri suddenly moved and crawled over to me, his eyes dilated, "Can you hear the voices too? I can, they talk to me all the time, they whisper things." He laughed. A cynical laugh. It gave me goosebumps.

Again I was about to say something when Yuri cut me off, "You're not one of us, you're wearing them clothes. You're a bad person!" Yuri recoiled so fast that it almost gave my eyes whiplash.

Yuri backed himself into a corner and cradled himself, shaking his head and repeating random words "Scared, Yuri scared, bad man is here, No! Not crazy, not crazy. Scared, not me, hahaha! Nope, nope nope."

I blinked several times, before kneeling down in front of him. I should be cautious as schizophrenic patients are unpredictable but I was drawn to him.

"Yuri," in the softest voice possible, like talking to a infant. "I'm not the bad man, I'm a doctor, I'm here to help you."

Yuri flinched before peeking up at me through his fingers. Then he seemed to relax. Cocking his head to the side again, a lopsided smile spread on his face.

He then launched himself at me, I lost my balance and fell backwards with Yuri clinging to me.

His face was so close to mine and his eyes were sparkling with so many emotions. "Be my doctor! Viktooor!"