Title: Aruarian Dance
Paring:TaiTo
AU: Mental Hospital AU
It never stopped, the ticking was there and it made him draw inward, to the point where he was deemed 'mentally unstable'. The word meant nothing to him, the only thoughts in his head were of what he'd hear today, and the day after. Blond hair bobbed to the crick of his neck as the white garbed male sat against the wall, a pillow beneath his legs.
Constant was the strain of sound, even when there was none, and it was quiet. Everything could create a stream of melody, and he heard it all, such things were more a curse than anything. He had hard times being normal, and trying to fit in. He'd been into the Arts, mostly painting, and even went to college years before this all came to bear fruit. Horrible sour fruit, hanging from a rotting tree.
His condition affected his daily functions, and family soon pushed him toward the open arms and secure rooms of the Mental Hospital. He had no choice, but he did indeed choose. He had wanted to be taken, to a place where nothing could disturb him, and the music he heard every day.
His room was quite spacious, it had the spare things needed. There was a bathroom off to the left; a bare and thin mattress, but no table in the room. For a Hospital room befitting the clinically diagnosed, Ishida Yamato was given space. Enough to do what he wanted, and cause no issues with staff or himself. However, there were points when the hallucinations became so difficult to handle, the patient would lash out to try and receive care, not knowing he had to just ask.
The current Social Worker was named 'Hugh' by Ishida, and the names he gave people were thought up in his own mind, but really had no meaning. He didn't talk to the worker, and the worker didn't speak to him but when needed. Small talk wasn't right, and he was stubborn about it. Though he had a voice, he hated to use it, as he felt it interfered with what he heard in his head, that it would disrupt the flow of his wonderful music. When he did speak, he used words scribbled on paper, and hand signals he had come up with on his own.
–It was here he heard the knock at the door, and saw Hugh sitting up in the chair he had nearby, watching the metal door open. Today, it was loud and screaming sounds making up the music in Ishida's brain, pulsing and making his ears metaphorically ring.
Hugh stood, handed the new guy his board, and left promptly. Blue eyes were watching it all, taking in the exchange of people from his room. He had been writing, on his lap while sitting side by side with his bed, on the floor. The patient liked to be there, close to the ground, his bare feet stuck to the cool tile floor.
As he, the new Worker, said his name quietly, it sounded as if he was yelling, and that hurt. Silently, Yamato stood with the grace of a cat, stable on his feet. He placed a finger to his lips, and stared the guy down. His eyes were almost a cloudy blue, made that way due to all the tests he had been administered, and the things they had put in his body. He could see well enough, but his eyes just had a filmy cover.
The man in the suit said hello, and the blond's face didn't change from his lined lips, but he raised a hand. He waved, a little in greeting. This guy…Yagami Taichi, he was the second Worker Ishida had been given. He had his work cut out for him.
...
Taichi flinched slightly as the patient simply stood up and held a finger to his lips. He was a tiny bit peeved to be fair; it was like a librarian was scolding him for talking when all he was doing was whispering quietly.
He got the message, closing his mouth with a small pout. Not used to be in a such a quiet place. All day he had to watch people of all kinds talk and interact. That was his job, to get them to do more than just sit around all day. He would make them talk about the things they liked so they'd feel excitement. He'd bring up a new game every day so the patients would begin to start looking forward to waking up. Taichi made sure to make them speak and to listen as they talked. Noise brought their minds from the walls that trapped them.
So being in such a noiseless place was off tempo with Taichi. It felt strange, and his voice wanted to bubble up.
He waved back as the Ishida waved at him. Blinking his large almond shaped eyes a bit as he was unsure how to go through and finish an introduction without speaking.
He looked at his clipboard and saw the papers underneath his check-in sheet. Oh. Writing.
With a click of his pen and shuffling of his papers, Taichi quickly scribbled out the words he wanted to say. before flipping the clipboard over.
[And you're Ishida Yamato. Is there anything specific you want me to address you as?]
...
Watching, waiting, that was mostly what Ishida was doing as the worker scribbled on the many papers he had been given. His bare feet were frigid and smooth along the tile floor. It was as if he could skate across it, dancing and swaying to a tune no one else could hear.
His eyes followed the movement of the writing utensil across the blank sheets of paper he had been given, Yamato's own scribbled on and strewn about his feet on the floor. He was careful not to wrinkle any of his works and stepped lightly across to the Worker. Taichi-san.
The bolsterous sounds in his head that day marked that something great would happen, and there it was, standing smack in front of the blond's pale, plainly clad body. Yagami Taichi was that 'something great'. Though the patient knew not why, he never questioned anything he heard and felt from the music. It was not an option.
As the man finished writing, he couldn't tell that Ishida was right in front of him, cloudy eyes staring straight at his face, about unblinking. His lips hung open a tiny bit, his teeth slightly dripping with saliva. He didn't smile, didn't change his face.
Ishida simply looked at Taichi, then at the clipboard, procuring his own blue pen from a pocket and scribbling against the paper.
{ Ishida is fine. Do you like Music? What kinds do you hear in your head? }
...
"!" Taichi wasn't expecting the patient to be that close all of a sudden. The gasp was bitten back due to Taichi's impulse to act. But the subconscious innate bravery is what stopped him from jumping back and instead, or better yet rather, blink more soon than usual.
He was still technically green when it came to being a social worker. But in his experience of working here he knew that all mental health patients had a pattern. After spending a few days with them, he could figure out their pattern of thinking and then match his to accommodate their needs while still being firm enough to guide them to a better standard. It's why he was so damn good at this job.
Ishida's stare was obstinate. It held the look of a mentally ill patient sure, but Taichi had the notion that he wasn't dumb. Far from it actually, he felt like the patient was just as capable as him. Intelligent enough unlike a few others that wouldn't understand the importance of the basics. Curious unlike how some patients just lacked that process altogether.
He was fine.
Just…obsessed to the point of insanity?
If that was the right terminology.
Figuring out this pattern was gonna be a challenge.
Taichi read the statement Ishida wrote on the paper. His first instinct was to reply back, but the direct eye contact reminded him not to. Inwardly he thought it was a time waster, but he clicked his pen and wrote a reply.
[K then Ishida it is. Well. Yeah. I like music. Though I don't really hear it in my head.]
Taichi paused. Looking up from his paper through the shutter of his eyelashes before making an adjustment.
[K then Ishida it is. Well. Yeah I like music. Though I don't really hear it in my head. What I hear isn't as important than what is playing in your head. Are you listening to music right now? What kind?]
...
The smile that crossed the patient's face was huge. Enough to fill the room with infectious happiness. Gripping his sides, he shook in silent laughter, and bounced back to his seat upon the floor, on the balls of his feet.
He was happy.
That Taichi-san liked music.
That he was interested in Yamato's music.
He was being noticed.
And that made him feel good.
And the grin stayed plastered as he scribbled in crayon on some leaflets of pages, pushing them across the floor at the worker.
{ You like music! I'm happy, so much.}
{ Today, it was foretelling you coming here. How funny it was that we met like this. }
{ I hear loud screaming of singing, and Thunder of drums. Powerful music to hear. }
One final page was slid over.
{ When I look at you, my stomach feels like there are tons of Butterflies inside. Is that bad? }
...
Taichi stood where he was as Yamato bounced back to his bed. His lips curved into a small smile as he was infected by the innocence in Yamato's happiness. He didn't know what he did, or what the other watcher before him was doing. But the sudden shift in energy was welcome in his book.
Taichi picked up the pages that was being slid over toward him. As he read he noted the difference in writing. He figured some scholar would analyze how the crayon was more youthful in comparison to the structured penwork. But he stopped himself from getting that far. He was just a middle man, trying to keep him safe while getting him used to human interaction. The psychiatrist could figure that out.
Speaking of which…
Taichi flipped over toward the page that kept the patient's time table. They still had time before his scheduled appointment with one of the doctors here.
Flipping the papers back he was going to write a note for his job's sake. But stopped once he got the last page.
Taichi looked up. Directly this time as he lifted his head away from the clipboard. Ishida was sitting on the bed almost eager to hear his reply.
Oh yeah.
This was definitely going to be a challenge.
Taichi didn't know exactly what Yamato had meant by that statement. But it's not like it could be anything serious. There was a wall between them and knocking down the bricks came with a price…
Taichi smiled back at Yamato.
But. It was too soon to dictate that. It probably an innocent statement like how he was currently feeling that's all. Hah, it wasn't like it was the first time Taichi made someone's heart flutter anyway.
He clipped that last leaflet on top of the others, sitting down in the chair in front of Ishida as he wrote down a reply.
[Well. It's flattering that's for sure. But it's not necessarily bad. Though. I have a question. What do you mean foretelling? Who told you?]
Taichi asked out of curiosity. He was told that Ishida heard music in his head, but nothing else besides that. Ishida was smitten with music, but he wanted to know just why that was.
...
The cheerful blond rocked a bit on the mattress, his feet hanging just above the ground, and his thin fingers gripping the edge of the fabric. His gaze was drawn back to Taichi's hand as he wrote a reply. His hands were nice.
The Butterflies were still there, but it kind of tickled, so he was glad he got told it wasn't bad. They were good Butterflies.
As he read the next question, Ishida twisted his head, and shook it a little, blond locks falling in his eyes. They blinked pale hues at Taichi, and he leaned to grasp a scrap of clean paper and rolled his pen in his hand.
The question. It wasn't right.
There was no one in his head, just music. Only words, and singing. No people.
{ No one told me. The music changes everyday. I don't control, I just hear it.}
...
Taichi noticed the change in writing utensil. He couldn't place why but he felt a bit off as Yamato used the pen.
Associating certain things with patients wasn't abnormal considering the job. But Taichi disliked it all the same. He didn't like being so influenced that a patient above all else would make him feel a certain way.
So like he'd give in just like that.
[It's just a question Ishida.]
Taichi chose his words carefully. Ishida was still 'unpredictable' and for the sake of his reputation, he needed to get a handle on him fast.
[But. This is our first day. I'll only ask what you feel comfortable answering okay? I promise.]