Grasping my name-tag and the clipboard from the nurses station between my fingers, I readied myself for the start of my shift. Most physicians here disliked the overnight graveyard shift. I would constantly hear my colleagues complain about how it took them away from their families. Their husbands and wives. Sons and daughters. Friends. Their lives. Their beds. Some even complained about how they missed their pets during the lateness of the hour.
Me? I kind of liked it.
Except for the occasional drunkard or tweaker that was emitted by emergency personnel after a bar fight or overdose, the graveyard shift at the hospital was quiet. Peaceful. Boring, even, to an extent. Something I didn't mind in the least. As for the sentiment of 'missing out' on events during the waking hours when the rest of this world would burst forth and breathe into life? For me, there was really nothing and no one to miss.
"Good evening, Doctor Kogara." One of the nurses greeted me as I passed her by, offering her the wave of my hand as I went about making my first rounds of the evening.
"Hey Shiro!" I heard this more enthusiast response to my arrival some distance away as I gave a small sigh.
...already he was starting in on me...
"You're finally here! That's great!" This came a little too friendly from my already overly friendly co worker as I felt my features shifting into an unintentionally stern scowl.
"...Satoshi..." I deadpanned monotonously towards my friend's knowing smile as it widened ever so slightly to my reaction.
As if he knew he already had me right where he wanted me. And...truth be told...he probably did. But I wasn't about to tell him that. And that certainly didn't mean I would make this easy for him.
...if he wanted something from me this time, he would have to work for it...
"I'm glad it's you clocking in tonight."
"What do you want this time, Satoshi?" I cut him off coolly, pretending to feign indifference to his antics as I stared at the clipboard in my hand.
"Oh come on. Don't be like that, Shiro." I heard him almost whine with that hurt tone he only thought worked on me. "It's not like I'm always asking you for something." And my gaze finally lifted from the clipboard in my hand as I gave a stern look and the dubious raise of my eyebrow, silently calling him out on his verbal bluff before his cheeks puffed and he gave a loud huff of concession towards being caught.
...again...
"Okay fine." Satoshi grumbled reluctantly. "I was suppose to be out of here an hour ago, but then the EMT's went and brought me a new case. 19 year old cutter. I already stitched him up and filled out the intake paperwork." He murmured, finally allowing himself to show the fatigue of his shift as his weary gaze met mine. "Shit." This curse quietly slipped through the breath of a whisper, one of his hands moving instinctively to the back of his neck as his gaze came cast to the ground along with his normally lighthearted demeanor. "These kids just keep getting younger, man."
At some point in their residency in this trauma ward, every physician inevitably found their personal weakness. A single dark, sobering moment of truth that either made them a better, more unshakable doctor...or it broke them completely. For my friend Satoshi, this was teen suicide. A growing epidemic in this city that brought him so close to his breaking point. Once. When he had lost a twelve year old girl to an intentional overdose of acetaminophen and alcohol. Even though he had eventually learned to laugh and smile again after a brief sabbatical and some help, Satoshi had never really been the same after that incident.
So when he brought up the fact that this new case was a potential suicide attempt, I immediately softened my more stern expression towards him and offered a genuine nod to let him know I was willing to help this time.
"What do you need?" My voice came tender towards my friend's request for assistance and support as his gaze met mine again.
"I'm pretty sure it's an open and shut case." He murmured lightly to me, handing off the manila file that had been tucked under his arm. "But I still want a psychiatric assessment and suicide risk analysis before I'm willing to release this kid." And I nodded to this as a smile of relief washed over his features.
"I'll have the assessment ready for you when you get back in tomorrow morning." I assured him with the calm lull of my voice and steady gaze.
"Thanks, man." He whispered, the smallest tug of an impishly wry smile coming back to life along his lips. "Shiro the hero."
"You really need to stop calling me that." I muttered through mild irritation that he quickly laughed off.
"You know you like it."
"Go home, Satoshi." I practically groaned, dispelling the man's laughter at my expense. "Get some sleep, okay." This came murmured more seriously in the wake of our friendly banter. "I'll watch over the kid tonight." I reassured him. "He'll be here tomorrow." With this promise Satoshi gave a silent nod of genuine gratitude.
"Thank you." This gesture of appreciation came through weary lips and a tired smile as he turned to make his way to the nurses station to clock out. "And I think you'll like this kid." Satoshi offered this through a casual glance over his shoulder. "He seems like your kind of weird."
"My kind of weird..." I grumbled passively to this as I heard him chuckle in response before disappearing for the evening. "...great..." And with this, I too, turned away in order to go and meet my newest charge.
Slowly trudging to the hospital room where Satoshi had placed him, I read the scant file containing this patients information. 19 year old male. Deep, lateral lacerations on both wrists. Evidence of past self harm. No listed family or kin. EMT's reported receiving a single phone call alerting them of the patient's suicide attempt. The young man had been completely hysterical and emotionally distraught upon their arrival and had needed to be sedated. The paramedics on site had managed to find the patient's identification in his apartment.
Akito Sohma.
It seemed like Satoshi had been right after all. This was a relatively straight forward case. And pending my evaluation, it seemed that there would be little else left to do after the mandatory 24 hours we were required to hold this young man for observation. Then we would need to release him...and hope for the best.
...hope...
Another soft sigh pushed through my nose to reign in and center my thoughts as I rapped my knuckles softly along the hospital door to announce myself before entering.
"Good evening, Mr. Sohma." I lulled calmly, my tone even and coolly professional as I addressed the young man sitting in the hospital bed.
And as my gaze drifted from the file in my hand to the patient in question, I took in the lean, almost skeletally slender form in the bed. The young man still wore the same clothes I assume he had been brought here in. A simple, loose black button down shirt, its sleeves rolled to just below the elbow revealing the thick bandages wrapping both wrists. Just above the bandages I could see signs of faint scarring along the pale flesh of his arms. And more faint scarring was visible along the young man's collar bones where the black shirt had been left unbuttoned. The shirt came untucked along tight black jeans that made the already thin figure appear almost fragile in his thinness.
Making mental notes to work into my evaluation, I continued to make quick, studious observations of this patient's physical presentation. Though the young man's short thick, inky black hair came strangely disheveled as it fell along and around his face, it appeared that he was relatively clean and put together. I made a note that the use of dark clothing could point to emotional instability. I also held reservation that this could simply be a fashion statement and nothing more.
The young man's expression came veiled through that hair of his, and a screen of smoke as he quietly exhaled the drag of a cigarette. Thin fingers held the cigarette poised as he stared off at the wall to the side of him, ignoring the fact that I had entered the room. This too, I made a note of.
"My name is Doctor Shiro Kogara. I'm here to talk with you, if I might." I paused, walking a little further into the room after little to no response from the patient. "How are we feeling tonight?"
And with this question. This one question, the young man offered the stir of a response. A low, soft, bitter snort of smoke before the lithe tenor of his voice soon followed.
"We are doing just fine this evening." He retorted lightly with the use of my own words as his gaze came captivated by the end of his cigarette. "Thank you very much for asking...doctor." These words came so cold and resentful, followed by an even colder gaze as dark black orbs were cast in my direction.
I gave a small side smile to this snarky presentation as I pulled up one of the plain chairs to the side of the bed.
"Shall we begin, then?" I managed my more monotonous, professional tone as the young man's features remained ghostly stoic.
"...lets..." This invitation came in a resounding whisper weighed down by the task at hand as I settled myself comfortably in the chair with the clipboard I had retrieved earlier.
"Did you attempt to kill yourself tonight?" I dove into the first question with the inclination that this young man would respond best to blunt questioning.
"No." And this unexpected response caused me to pause as my gaze lifted from the form to meet that dark penetrating stare veiled through black bangs and smoke.
"So this was an accident, then?" I questioned in order to find clarification in this statement the patient had made.
"No. Not exactly." The young man offered cryptically before his lips met the end of the cigarette in a long drag of consideration.
"Were you attacked?" I asked calmly, pacing myself as I sifted through his answers to find resolution.
"No." This answer came soft through another whisper of smoke and the small shake of his head as my expression furrowed in mild bemusement.
Satoshi had been right. This young man was...strange. To say the least.
"Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Sohma?" I asked, each word falling from my lips like a hammer against nails, my gaze flitting from the bandages to the young man's face as I held his dark stare with the raise of my eyebrow.
"That really depends on who you ask." He lightly murmured as he gave a final drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out with spindly fingers.
"It will be in your best interest to give me a straight answer." I responded coolly before I witnessed thick lashes flutter with the infinitesimal quiver of the lips as the young man's delicate features shifted and changed ever so subtly from petulant stoicism to a level of almost startlingly broken vulnerability.
"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." His voice came so soft and mournfully forlorn under the threat of cracking along unshed tears before he quickly turned away to the wall in order to hide himself.
A/N: Oaky. So I tried. I REALLY tried to hold off on creating this story until my other projects were resolved. But the idea simply wouldn't let me quietly put it down. I hope you all enjoy this, and for the record for anyone confused after reading this. As per the story summary, yes, Akito IS a woman in this. But as for the introduction, Akito has been identified as a male. It will become a lot more clear as the story progresses, I promise.