Story Title: A Mind, Unwell

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH.

Chapter One: Awake Into Confusion

Shuuichi Minamino opened his emerald eyes for the first time in a very long time. Heartbeats raced in his chest as his heart struggled to keep pumping at such an accelerated pace that his heart began draining the blood from his face for compensation. Where was he? How long had he been here? When did he get here? Such were some of the many questions plowing through his mind, full of fear.

He was sitting in a fairly large room, perhaps a meeting room for a small business, at one end of a long cherry wood table, flanked by several wide, ornate chairs. The air was dead, smelling of hospitals, an odor of sterility, you could say, in the room, though in a maroon carpeted room wallpapered with a green and maroon fleurs-de-lis pattern, it certainly did not give him the "feel" of a typical hospital.

Where he was did not quite concern him but how he came to be here. Shuuichi could not remember anything—his memory was blanker than a cracked computer monitor in a scrap yard. Worse still, he was doing this more and more. Appearing, disappearing, going to bed at night and waking up in the middle of a lecture fully dressed in his uniform.

And he never remembered putting it on.

He was losing hours, days, and weeks on end. How long had he been out this time? Who is to say really? The air conditioning kicked on above him and blew his long bright scarlet hair forward with individual strands tickling his face. Shuuichi went to lift his arms so he could pull his hair back, but he stopped when he realized he couldn't. For a second, his heart quit pumping, and the air withdrew from his lungs. Slowly, his eyes peered downward. He already knew what was there but actually seeing it would confirm his fears.

There were leather straps binding his wrists to the chair. Frantically, Shuuichi twisted, turned, and rammed back his hands, praying some combination of the three would let him slip free. The skin now red and abraded, and he, having wasted so much precious energy, sat there still a prisoner.

Then he got an idea.

Whether or not it was truly an idea or a natural primal urge sweeping over him, he leaned forward, desperately stretching his neck and spine, to maybe, just maybe, chew himself free from his bonds. To no avail, as far as his body could bend, his teeth came only inches away, and all he could do was stroke the band with the tip of his tongue. Leaning back against the chair, he sat with the tastes of defeat, increasing despair, and dead cow flesh in his mouth.

Muffled voices came from the other side of the wall. The lock clicked and the doorknob was being turned. It opened. Five people entered in an orderly, silent procession and took to the seats, flanking Shuuichi.

Two were teenage boys. One, wearing a green school uniform, had his black hair slicked back, and he made eye contact with Shuuichi but quickly his gaze fell to the floor. The other boy was taller and wore a blue school uniform. His reddish-brown hair was styled in a small pompadour. Both boys looked tough, as if they walked the streets at night just looking for a fight, but through that mask, Shuuichi saw they were troubled by something and were concerned.

The two girls came in next. They were about the same age and wore the same blue and yellow girls' uniform. The girl with the short brown hair took a seat by the boy in green. Her hands rested in her lap and her gaze never left the floor. There were tears in her brown eyes, but Shuuichi couldn't figure out why. The other girl came in adjusting the pink ribbon in her long light blue ponytail and stood beside the boy in blue. She smiled brightly and softly waved at Shuuichi, then took her seat.

The last to enter was a professional woman in a maroon pantsuit. She closed the door behind her and locked it. The woman sat at the head of the table directly across from Shuuichi. From her black leather briefcase, she produced a tape recorder and set it on the table. No one spoke. The only sound in the room was the droning of the fluorescent lights and the woman writing on her clipboard.

She turned on the recorder. Her voice was detached and soft but not weak. Shuuichi felt she had a cold, hard presence, similar to the two boys but even the boys showed kindness. Her words came out dryly and emotionless, like a computer recording, it sounded rehearsed for her.

She spoke," This is Dr. Naomi Fumiya. I am in Consultation Room 3 with four outside participants who have been fully debriefed and have signed waivers. It is Thursday, August 23, 2007 and the time is…" she paused to look down at her watch, "one-thirty in the afternoon. This is case 3001407A, and the subject is number 1001238750. Minamino, Shuuichi."

This was all too overwhelming and unbelievable. Cases…subject…strapped to a chair, hospitals, what was GOING ON HERE?

And who were these PEOPLE?!

Never, ever had Shuuichi seen or known these people or Dr. Fumiya. Ever. Now he was in a "consultation room" with people who signed waivers and apparently were going to talk to him about something. His anger was rising. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

Why was he bound like some psycho?

Why did Dr. Fumiya stare at him with such cold eyes hidden behind the glare off her glasses?

What in the world was his problem?

Better yet, what was their problem with him?

Shuuichi bowed his head and closed his eyes. This was all too much. If only he could run away…like some place quiet he could go to…

The notion was comforting. A warmth spread through his body.

Somewhere peaceful…

A friendly and familiar presence laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Go…go back," a cool and collected voice whispered in his ear from behind him,"Let me handle this." The presence's hands became arms and the arms drew him backwards. Within his own body, Shuuichi felt himself sinking back into a sea, a dark sea of peace, of security, of comfort. As he fell back, the voice came forward and passed by him.

Even if Shuuichi wanted to refuse, he couldn't force himself to stay.

He raised his head and with confidence said,"Hello Yusuke. Kuwabara. Botan. Keiko. How are all of you?"

The four looked to one another, but having been ordered by Dr. Fumiya, remained quiet.

Dr. Fumiya adjusted her glasses, after taking a quick note of her subject, "With whom am I speaking to?"

He smiled and half-heartedly chuckled in his throat, "I am Shuuichi Minamino."

Dr. Fumiya frowned," I have talked with you many times already. You know I mean you no harm and only wish to listen and help, but I know your tricks and games all too well. Let Shuuichi talk for himself, Kurama."

–end chapter one

Author's End Comments: Yea, cliffhangers on the first chapter. Hope it was at least entertaining. When I add the rest of the story, everything will make more sense. It has nothing to do with the actual YYH plotline...that's why it's fanfiction. :-) I hope I don't end up having to explain it all...