"The worst wounds, the deadliest of them, aren't the ones people see on the outside. They're the ones that make us bleed internally."
- Melancholy (noun) - a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no oblivious cause. -
The question of "What is death?" is not one normally asked or even presented to kids until they are much older than is probably necessary. It is a phrase that's skirted around as much as possible, leaving time for ridiculous theories such as "It's a place in the sky" or "A really long nap" to become realities.
Takao Kazunari has never been one to think about stuff like that. He had never considered himself an unhappy person, because he wasn't. Happiness didn't have anything to do with it, but more the absence of happiness, the absence of everything, that did. It was only after it happened. After it, the world turned a few degrees the other way; still the one he knew but not quite the same anymore regardless. He was stuck in that world a few degrees off while everyone else lived on the real earth. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it hit him, but it sure felt like a ton of bricks when it did. The depression, that is.
It came and went in waves, ebbing and flowing against the shore slowly eroding away at his conscience. Everyone noticed, or at least to him it seemed that way. Then again, looking back on it, he might have just been being paranoid.
But if someone had told him he would end up in a place like this because of "feeling a little blue" sometimes, he would never believe them. Never. Things like that didn't happen to people like him.
Because that was impossible…right?
This cannot be happening, this cannot be happening, this cannot be happening-
"Mr. Takao?"
The voice came from behind him, sharp and yet gentle. He released the grip he had on his palms and relaxed his hand muscles as much as possible. "Y-Yes?"
The doctor shuffled around the counter for a moment, "Do you have any history of pre-existing medical conditions or are taking any prescription medications?"
"Not that I know of uh-"
"Is there a history of medical or mental illness in your family?"
"I-I'm not sure-"
"Very good."
Takao stuttered for a few seconds, the words sitting on the edge of his tongue. I don't know the answers to these questions! Ask my parents! The doctor finally moved away from the counter he was facing away from and strode a few steps to stand in front of him. He was average height, with black messy hair and angular blue eyes. The whole aura of him seemed to radiate authority. It was enough to make Takao want to sink into the exam room chair he was sitting in and disappear forever. How did this happen again?
It's all your fault.
No it's not!
Yes it is.
"So now I get to ask you the real questions." The doctor spoke again. The nurse had taken him to what was labeled "Exam Room 3" and yet he couldn't help but feel it was more of one used for interrogation rather than medical examinations.
"I'm not sure if we ever were properly introduced. I'm Dr. Kasamatsu. We meet a number of days ago, although I don't expect you to remember it."
"I…sorry. I don't."
"It's alright, I understand." Dr. Kasamatsu paused for a moment, shifting his weight, "Now I'm just going to ask you a series of simple questions and I want you to answer with all honesty Kazunari. Are you comfortable with that name?"
"Uh yeah, it's…fine."
What a straightforward guy. Maybe he's not so bad.
"First of all, can you tell me why you're here?"
Immediately, Takao felt his stomach role. Why am I here? Doesn't he know that already? He bit his bottom lip, tearing at the already chapped surface.
"Well I uh, tried to…kill uh myself." He laughed nervously, trying not to sound completely idiotic. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head with his hand, slowly.
"I mean…" he pointed to the thick bandages covering his left arm from wrist to elbow "Isn't it kind of obvious?" The forced laughter wouldn't stop, and eventually he forced his head down to stare at his bare feet dangling off the edge of the table. Is it really that funny to me?
If Kasamatsu made any reaction, he didn't see it.
"How long have you had these suicidal feelings?"
He finally dropped his hand from the back of his head, letting it flop on across leg, bandage a stark white against even the pale gown. When did it start?
A month ago?
A year? Two?
How long have I lived like this?
"I'm not sure actually." the words came out softer than he intended, almost more to himself than the doctor. "Is that you're answer?" Takao nodded once, twice, watching a single section of hair fall across his eyes in repeated succession. Am I gonna get a shower soon? I wonder.
"How long have you been here?"
"Here as in this room, or here as in the hospital?"
"The hospital you dum-" Almost like he was catching himself from saying something he might regret, Takao noticed how the doctor's voice had risen for a split second.
"You were asking for that one."
"Will you please answer the question."
He hesitated, unsure of how to answer. All the memories of the whole week seemed messy, blurred like a picture with water spilled across it's surface until it was more a jumble of colors and shapes than moments in time. "4 days?"
Kasamatsu sighed lightly and picked up the clipboard that had been hanging in his hand at his side for the past few minutes, scribbling something down in a hurry.
He didn't wanna know what it said. It's better off not knowing anything at all. At least then they can't get to me. He itched slightly at his sleeve subconsciously. That's right. Everyone is better off not knowing.
The questioning continued on as it had before - Dr. Kasamatsu going through a cycle of deadpanned to annoyed and Takao trying not to either laugh awkwardly or mutter his answers. Finally he was released to a nurse standing outside the door who handed him a blue robe to put on.
"I'll need to talk to your parents now." he thought he heard the doctor mutter something to the nurse about being 'especially difficult' but then again, his paranoia always had a way of sneaking in at the most inconvenient times.
After hearing the nurse laugh and say something reassuring (at least he thinks it was reassuring), he followed him back down the hallway they had come from before.
Takao had never taken time to really observe the hospital he had been staying in, but he also hadn't left the small room on the fifth floor since he had been admitted. The hallways were mostly bare, a few sparse paintings of boring landscapes or flower vases filled with overly colorful flowers decorated the walls of a select few. The floor was entirely too shiny, and the harsh lights reflected in long rectangles down every passageway. The nurse arrived at the elevator. It was a different one they had taken before. Glancing at the placard next to the elevator doors he read,
"4th - Long Term Treatment"
"5th - Psychiatric Ward"
Glancing slightly down at the shorter nurse he tried to sound as upbeat as possible and asked, "What's long term treatment for?"
"Any kind of disease or condition that requires extended attention."
"So like, cancer?"
"Exactly."
The doors to the elevator opened. Takao stared down at the crack between the floor he stood on and the elevator. Beyond that it was all empty space, a simple shaft meant to simply carry life from floor to floor. Kind of like me I guess.
Stepping inside, he was surprised he didn't notice someone else was standing there to begin with. Looking back now, it was easy to see how caught up he was in his own world, how he didn't pay attention to anything else besides himself. At the time anyway.
"Ah Midorima, are you here today for treatment? I haven't seen you in a while it must be going well."
"It's all fine. I'm alright."
Glancing up Takao could catch a glimpse of darkly tinted hair, the shiny black frame of glasses, thick long lashes, but most of all the thick bandages covering all over his left arm.
Hey it's…
The elevator door opened, and the boy left, disappearing out of sight from the doorframe.
He's…
Takao wanted to chase after him, to grab his arm and ask all the stupid questions about it he could think of. He just needed to know. Because this...this was the first time. This was the first time in a long time he had felt something that wasn't numb. Looking down at his own bandaged left arm, he couldn't stop the feeling welling in his chest.
He's just like me.
Maybe he wasn't completely alone after all.
oh so hi there! yeeeah this was really rough i'm aware, but i PROMISE i know where this story is going just..ignore this sort of awkward start okay? (╯_╰)
so this fic is somewhat connected to One Day More (aokise, my heart still hurts from writing this tbh) as in it has the same characters, situations, circumstances, etc. and to answer what some of you might be wondering: YES there will be a kagakuro version, just give me time I already had enough trouble getting this one started ahh
i have a few other fics in the works at the moment (namely a new aoki ufufufu) so this will not update probably as regularly as i would like it to but i promise i will do my best! ｡◕‿◕｡
***THE QUOTE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, IT IS FROM INFAMOUS BY SHERRILYN KENYON***