I hadn't indented to post this here, because of the content, but whatever becomes too high in rating for will be cut. The original, unedited version, can be found on my LiveJournal.
In my head, this mental hospital is a Makai version. That is to say, it's not necessarily an accurate description of life inside an 'asylum'. There will be yaoi and there will very confusing moments, because of the nature of the body the three share. Bedlam follows Kurama's journey, mostly, and so this means what he isn't told, he doesn't know. Shuuichi is the original, he was born in the body long before his other personalities were. The others claim that they're the original, but they aren't.
My muse wanted something different. This is the result. I'm just tagging along for the ride.
-
Bedlam
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
Edgar Allan Poe
-
The blank wall.
Same as always.
It was a white wall, one of four. It made his headroom. There was a floor and ceiling as well, only he didn't care about them.
It was just the wall and him.
And that damn staring feeling he got from the other side of it. Walls weren't meant to have eyes. Were they? They weren't meant to leer at him. They were built, by hands, the hands of men, to house and hold people.
To house the crazies, locked away.
He was one of them. Or so they said. He wasn't insane like the others, not troubled. The others being people outside of his own body. This prison of muscle and flesh. They were complete people, he was too. Only he had the others here with him as well, inside.
He hated and loved those he deemed appropriate.
The wall glared on.
He shivered.
"I want to be let out," he growled, receiving no reply.
There wouldn't be for a long time. Only the camera near the ceiling of one of the not-glaring wall linked at his repetitively, and he shifted his head to stare at it. Keeping mind off the glaring wall.
"Now," he demanded.
He couldn't move.
They wouldn't let him.
In his room, made of four walls – one that hated him – there was a bed. And on that bed he lays, against his will. Wishing to be let go.
"Let me out!" he roared pulling at the brown bands holding him down and the strap across his chest.
The fox on his wall grinned at him. The camera morphed, sunk into the wall and opened into a allrge eye that spanned across the wall plastered with foxes. A large, golden eye.
"Fuck you!" he shouted at it, because it was grinning at him wasn't it? The others were minding their own business while that fox on the wall, grinned at him.
He calmed.
"You aren't free," he said calmly. "You locked in here too."
"But we share a body, it's only a matter of time before I crush you," his own voice replied, but not of his own will. Furious he screamed at the ceiling again. The fox had controlled his voice. He still had the damnable ability to do so.
"Fuck you!" Kurama screamed, not because he was in the habit of swearing so visciously all the time, but because he hated this creature to his very core. He'd kill him, without fail. He'd crush the fox and watch him fade away. This body would be his. Not theirs.
"You will say here. Until I say," the fox said, grinning. Grinning at him from the wall that was not-glaring.
He hated mentioning his existence but he spoke his name. "And Shuuichi?"
"Shuuichi will die, and then you too." He grinned a little, then the fox said, "Stay here like a good boy."
"I want to look out the window." Outside of this headroom, into the four white walled room with the pictures of foxes plastered to the walls, broken only by the cabinet, bed, window and door. Reality.
That window reminded him that there was something other than this white walled, plain existence that he coloured with the thoughts and beings inside him. He'd never really been outside, like shuuichi had. No, he'd always been here, at the mercy of Youko. It'd change, eventually. He'd destroy them both.
"I'll do it."
-
"Hello Yusuke."
In considerably better condition than most of the other inmates, Shuuichi stood stock still in the middle of his single room watching Yusuke through the reflection of the window. Shuuichi's door had been open, which was why Yusuke had slowed down while on his rounds to poke his head inside his room only to find the bed empty.
"Shit! Hey. You scared me; I didn't expect you to be there." He gestured to the window. It was well past midnight after all, most of the other patients were asleep, apart from those few insomniacs who spent their time watching TV in the common room or in their rooms.
"That's quite alright. It's Youko by the way," he said, turning his head slightly to look at Yusuke over his shoulder from the corner of his eye.
"Oh, Youko. Hello, I haven't talked to you in a long time." Even as he said it Yusuke swore mentally, Youko wasn't the nicest of Shuuichi's personalities. The orderlies had been told to stay in pairs when Youko emerged, however his appearances seemed few and far between these days as Kurama slowly grew stronger and Shuuichi have up control entirely. Kurama had been created by Shuuichi after all, specifically to deal with Youko in ways that Shuuichi himself could not. There had been another before Kurama, but he had been crushed when Kurama appeared.
"Yes… It has been a while." Youko turned back to the window, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
"Is everything okay?" Yusuke asked, he knew for a fact that Youko appeared only by forcing Kurama down, it was never voluntary for him to surface.
"…I-" His head lowered slightly, probably to look at the floor. "He couldn't sleep. I wanted to look out the window."
"Would you like to come with me and I'll get you a drink or something? To help you sleep?" Yusuke offered, deciding to not offer sleeping pills. Youko didn't like medication.
Shuuichi looked up for a second and what he could see of his reflection in the window morphed suddenly, from stern brooding to a blank but kind expression. Though it wasn't simply a change in expression, his body shifted in ways that couldn't specifically be distinguished, but they were there. In an instant it was obvious that it was no longer Youko in control.
"Yusuke," he said, blinking.
Yusuke sighed, and grinned. After a while it had become easier to tell when Kurama was in controll. Mostly it was his tone of voice, the way he said Yusuke's name. With an odd sort of old fondness.
"Hey Kurama. Youko said you were having trouble sleeping." Yusuke suddenly felt more at ease. He shifed his weight onto his other foot and placed a hand in one of his pockets, in doing so removing it from his belt which held restraining equipment ready to be used if so was necessary, along with a radio and torchlight. Behind him, he could hear a nurse going through each room, making sure each patient was accounted for.
"He did?" There was a slight hint of annoyance in his voice, although he hid it well. Youko and Kurama hated each other, virtually rivals in the same body they generally didn't react well to hearing about each others actions. "I assure you I am fine, thank you for your concern."
Yusuke nodded, taking that as a sort of vague dissmissal. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? New arrival tomorrow."
Kurama smiled sadly. New arrivals tended to be hard for the whole ward until they had settled in. This one was coming straight to them from the Emergency Care Centre, which meant he would probably take a long while to settle if his admission was involuntary.
Kurama himself had never seen anything but these walls, and didn't mind their company, but sometimes he wished for something else. Something besides the hollow corridors and sleepless nights of the Makai Psychiatric Facility.
Yusuke closed the door behind him.
-
Outside of his headroom, Kurama paled as the sun shone through the window. Strapped down to his chair he sat, in group session, head tilted away from them all, staring at the patch of sun, crawling its way along the floor.
Life of its own, he thought, it's not the sun it's alive. A living being.
Stupid.
In various chairs around each corner of the room, comfortable as possible, the patients sat. Obedient. Botan encouraged them to all talk about how they felt today, and if their moods were fairing well, to talk about past experiences of things that simply came to mind. The talking cure, she called it.
Kurama was not insane.
Anti-depressants and the gods only knew what else they had him on. He was told what he was on, he didn't care. He'd forgotten by now anyway.
They said he was a special case and his medication had to be monitored carefully. Not too much, or the world renowned rare appearance of a non-splintering multiple personality disorder case would be ruined. Kurama didn't care much.
He was going to win.
He was not insane. There was only a few too many people inside. Outsiders wouldn't understand.
The sun was still creeping. Slowly, closer and closer to the chair and Kurama.
It approached in burning glory.
His hands were tied to his chair, his special chair.
Chatter around him, he ignored them, sun approaching, his axiety rising.
"Kurama?" The voice asked, female. He turned to face her, blinking. She sat on her chair, hands in her lap. Smiling. Inviting him.
All eyes were on him now. Watching.
"She wanted to know how you were today," one of the patients said, crossing their arms and leaning back in their chair.
Unsaid words filled the room as Kurama stared at the ceiling. Why ask him? He's a loose canon. We're here for help, not to listen to his warped opinions. Hell probably freak out again like last time. It's a good thing they keep him strapped to that chair now. I wonder that he's going to say…
He said, "Fresh blood today," because he didn't feel like saying anything about how the sun both scared and enticed him, about Youko's threats, or how his nose itched. He didn't know how he felt other than anxious and restless.
He was curious though.
Botan nodded. "Yes, that's correct."
"Do you know anything about them?" one of the patients asked quietly.
Botan crossed her feet at her ankles before her and leant back in her chair. "His name is Hiei, he won't be coming for group sessions for a while."
"Have you seen him?" another asked.
"Briefly. It may take him a while to settle in."
"What's his name again?"
The sun was almost touching the leg of his chair, and Kurama waited patiently for it to spontaneously combust, taking him with it. A blaze of glory. Bright, hungry, burning fucking glory.
With nothing left.
"Hiei," he uttered.
