Here, the seventh instalment of Art of Subconscious Illusion: Rewritten, ready to enjoy. Considering the ample progress that we're making, I think the time may come to henceforth delete the original fic, and let this one be the 'One and Only' (as Chesney Hawkes would say). This would be useful, in particular, because of the 'don't put up the same story twice' rule, which this barely avoids, and the fact that, from here on out, I'll be giving you completely new, original, never-before-seen footage, and so getting rid of the discontinued fic would keep that impression of originality. I'm currently on the fence about it, so if you can find the time to vote in the poll over whether or not to delete the original, that would be immensely useful.

All the best, eh?


Chapter VII

Nightmare

Once the patient had been returned back to his room and into the arms of his worried parents, Cameron and Wilson made their way back to House's office, where Drs House, Chase, Foreman, and the child-like Ryuzaki were waiting for them, all standing with their arm folded in annoyance – apart from Ryuzaki of course, who was still crouching in his seat, now preoccupied with a lollipop of the maroon-coloured cherry flavoured variety. Now in the relative calm of the office, and virtually away from danger, Cameron unclipped her bug from the sleeve of her shirt beneath her lab coat, and gave it to Ryuzaki, who set it up to be listened to on House's PC, while her and Wilson let spill about what happened during their search for Light Yagami.

When they'd finished listening to the audio, the reactions around the room were very different. Ryuzaki, for one, carried on licking idly at his lollipop, his eyes noticeably narrowing behind his mask. Foreman and Chase, however, looked worried, Chase covering his mouth with his hand while Foreman began to sweat. House, however, who had every reason to be worried about his potentially imminent death, did nothing. Well, nothing other than stay where he was, preparing himself for a witty comeback. "Seven days?" he asked, "Ha! I could diagnose this kid in three days, and with a hand tied behind my back!" House, with his Simba-like trait of laughing in the face of danger, was never one to disappoint, death being no excuse in his book.

"Per-lease!" Foreman sighed, wiping away the sweat, "Curing that kid is going to be harder for us than it is for a drug addict to quit, and even the mighty House could do that in three days!"

Suddenly, Chase was bent over double with laughter, "'You will die in seven days…' hey, Cameron, Koji Suzuki called, he wants his catchphrase back!"

"Shut up," she retorted, "this is really serious business. We have seven days to diagnose an extremely violent, mentally ill patient who probably has a split personality, and if that wasn't enough, thinks he's Kira."

"First of all, we really only have six days, as today counts as the first one." Said Ryuzaki, with an erudite finger, "Second of all, split personality? Explain."

"Well, when we all first met him, he was manic, going on about 'eradicating filth' and killing criminals, but when he was talking with me a little while ago, he was talking about not wanting to be Kira anymore because he didn't want to hurt his family. In my opinion, that could not be because he's having manic episodes, but because he has a second personality – a 'Kira personality' – who has his own motives and his own way of thinking, with his real personality – the 'Light Personality' – battling for control, hence the deal he made with us."

"I really doubt that," said Foreman, dominating the conversation, "because if that were true, then we wouldn't have anything to blame the hallucinations on, and since a myriad of things can cause hallucinations, we'd be practically on step 1 again."

"Thank you, Dr Foreman," said Ryuzaki, "but while this reasoning is sound enough, let me point out that perhaps the hallucinations are causing the onset of the episodes themselves. Besides, we won't be on step 1, not really. As Dr Cameron can see from the board, we have, in her absence, narrowed his condition down to four possible candidates, and noted down symptoms."

Indeed, the wipe board was already half-filled with red-dry-wipe-marker writing, declaring:

Major manic episodes (w/ Psychotic undertones) – Possibly Manic Depressive

Delusions of Grandeur

Over-Explanation (caused by internal pressure)

Hyper-Activity

Hyper-Religiosity

Belligerence

Hallucinations (Find out what 'Ryuk' is)

Distorted Sense of Self/Self Worth (Believes he is KIRA)

Clairvoyance (?) – Retro-cognition

Strong Sense of Justice – Black and White Thinking

Possibly:

Schizophreniform Disorder (symptoms for longer than 1 month, poss. more than 6). Least likely.

Schizophrenia – possibly Paranoid type (needs delusions & hallucination for confirmation).

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPB)

Bipolar Disorder

Schizoaffective Disorder

"Schizophrenia?" Cameron asked, "It can't possibly be that, could it? He was perfectly coherent when he was talking to me, with no loss of train of thought, or subject flow, and there was definitely no word salad. He wasn't even catatonic, and there was a lack of affective flattening."

"Like it says on the board," Replied Foreman, "only delusions and hallucinations need to be present for a successful diagnosis, and so far, that's working for me. In that case, we can put him on a course of Thorazine to begin with."

"But, how would Schizophrenia account for everything else? There are more than just those symptoms on the board, you know! Like major manic episodes, distorted sense of self and worth, and even clairvoyance!"

"Would it help if I told you that – according to his file – his brain scan showed perfect health, and there is a possibility that clairvoyance is not a symptom, but really a cause?" Ryuzaki offered.

"No!" came the yell in unison.

"Dammit, we're getting nowhere fast. We may as well just put him on the drug now and wait to see what happens. That one's a slow reactor, so that'll give us the rest of the day to diagnose without interference, thanks to the sedating effect. If he is schizophrenic, then my neck's off the dotted line." Foreman stared at him, both in surprise that his suggestion had been taken on board, and partly because he wasn't sure if he'd heard him right.

"Yeah, you heard me right. Just give him the syrup!" Foreman rushed out of the office at that, making his way down to the Pharmacy, and leaving House, Cameron, Chase, Wilson and Ryuzaki to talk in peace.


Barely half an hour after Cameron and Wilson had taken Light back to his room; Dr Foreman came in to find Light lying on his bed, the strait jacket on his lap as he drank a glass of water, a copy of Stephen King's Carrie in his other hand. His mother was sat in a chair beside the bed, twiddling her thumbs while his father stayed stood up, pacing the room. His little sister was luging in another chair, a DS in one hand and a stylus in the other. Occasionally, she'd look up and try to read a snippet of the little paperback, but at every such instance, Light would close the book on one of his fingers, shake a finger at her, and only continue when she'd returned her attention back to her Professor Layton game.

At the sound of the door sliding open, everyone looked up from their activities to the intruder save for Light, who just continued reading. When his father noticed, he took the red and white paperback out of his hands and muttered something to him in Japanese, prompting him to look up and pay attention to the visiting doctor. Once again, Light's eyes shone dark red at the sight of the black doctor, making the hairs on the back of Foreman's neck stand on end. Although it was the second time that day that he'd been subjected to the young man's mental probe, he was yet to be prepared for the feeling of nakedness that came with it, like nothing was a secret anymore.

It was only when Light broke the gaze and looked down, preoccupying himself with the strait jacket that Foreman was able to introduce himself, and explain the unexpected visit. "Good afternoon," he said, "I'm Dr Foreman, and I'm on the diagnostician team in charge of your son's health.

"Thank you, Dr Foreman, we appreciate your help." Said the father. The speech was one he'd delivered so many times to other doctors, so his speech was fluent in speaking it. Hastily, he took hold of Foreman's hand, shaking it briskly before introducing himself. "My name is Soichiro Yagami, and this is my wife Sachiko, and my daughter Sayu. Obviously you've already met my son, Light." He blushed a little at this, coughing slightly in embarrassment of the event in which Light and Foreman 'met'.

Foreman allowed himself a little smile at this. Soichiro Yagami seemed to be a very brisk man who didn't like wasting time, and for that, Foreman was thankful. "Yes, of, course. I'm glad to say that great progress has been made in the diagnosis, of which could be any of four conditions. At the moment, paranoid type Schizophrenia seems to be the most likely, and while the clairvoyance is as of yet unexplained, the answer to that, I'm sure, will come in due time." Foreman's posture was of a trademark practitioner – back straight, hands behind his back, and the obligatory squeaky-clean smile, like everything could possibly work out in the end.

"Schizophrenia? Is that all?" asked Sachiko, her once dull face lighting up with relief.

"It could be," Foreman answered, "but because of the nature of the condition, we can't know for certain until further tests have been carried out, but so far, it's the best diagnosis we have." (Read: It's the only one we have, and the only reason we're pushing for this one is because no one so far is bothered to come up with any better. This is one of the many lies we doctors get away with telling you, and you'll be hearing a lot more of these from now on.)

"What do you mean, you can't know for certain?" asked Soichiro, a hint of outrage in his voice, "Are you trying to tell us that your staff are so incompetent, that the best they can do is come up with an easy option and stick to it just so they can go home easy thinking they did something worthwhile?" Well, you could say that…

"I'm sorry, Mr Yagami, but the fact is that no symptom is characteristic of Schizophrenia, and while we have no records of recent brain scans, or the possibility of substance abuse, we cannot know for certain at the moment. This is why we're prescribing your son Thorazine: it's an effective treatment of the condition, so if Light does have it, we'll know we're already on the right track."

Realising that the doctor knew best, Soichiro gave up easily, sighing deeply. Now that he'd commanded their full respect, Foreman took a small bottle of the Thorazine syrup and a 5ml medicine spoon out of his lab coat pocket, setting the items on the serving tray on the end of Light's bed – right where it was out of the way, but within reach when needed. "Now, all Light has to do is take two 5ml doses of this every twelve hours. Considering that it's 12pm now, you can give him the two does now, and another at either midnight or any time close enough before he goes to sleep. Can I trust that you do that without my supervision?"

Soichiro nodded, and so did Sachiko and Sayu. Light, however, didn't appear to be paying any attention, alternating between counting the threads of the jacket and scrutinizing the lampshade on the bedside table. "Is that all?" asked Soichiro, not unkindly.

"Yes," replied Foreman, "and I'm sure you all know what to do if you need me at all." It wasn't a question, so as soon as he saw Sachiko reach for the bottle, Foreman left without another word, closing the door behind him.

He had barely walked a few paces out of the room when he felt a tug at his lab coat from behind. Turning around, he saw Sayu standing there, a beseeching look upon her face. "Excuse me," she asked, "but I wanna share something with you." As the girl was only 15 years old, and a little short for her age by American standards, Foreman had to bend down on one knee to talk to her, and he did so, allowing them both the luxury of being able to see eye-to-eye.

"What is it?" he asked, using his 'Trusting-Friend' voice, "Do you want to say thank you or anything? Because I'm sure you can say that in front of your parents, no problem."

"It's not that," She answered, blushing slightly, "It's just that I've got a few things to say about Light that you might wanna know."

"Oh?"

"I know I'm not smart or anything, but I think they're important, and I wanna help in any way I can." Like with Light, her accent wasn't very pronounced – at least, not as much as her parents' accents were – but it did leave an almost sweet edge to her words.

"Could you tell me, please?"

"Oh…erm…okay." Clearly, Sayu hadn't expected her request to be accepted so easily. Clearing her throat, she explained. "You see, Light always wanted to be a detective like Dad, and ever since Middle school, if we ever had a problem, or a secret, he could always figure it out, no matter what. He'd even tell us how he figured it out." Sayu sighed at this point. "He's so smart, and everything was so easy for him. But, in his third year at high school, he would stay up in his room and study for getting into college. At first, I thought that was so… until he stopped speaking to us, and he only spoke when he came home, of when he was forced to at the dinner table. It was like he didn't enjoy our company any more. Every now and again, I'd even walk in on him doing odd stuff that wasn't studying."

"At first, we all thought it was because he was a normal teenager, and he never saw enough of dad, because he was always at work… but I'm sure it's not that."

Having listened intently the whole time, he finally spoke up at her pause. "So?" he asked, friendly voice still in place, "What do you think it is?"

"Well, I've been reading a few leaflets, and… I think he's got anhedonia." Foreman's eyes widened at the revelation, and without a further thought, he enveloped Sayu in a bone-crunching hug, before running off down the corridor, the tails of his lab coat flapping in the breeze behind him.

"Thank you!" he yelled from over his shoulder, leaving the long-suffering girl more bewildered than before they'd ever met.

Anhedonia, he thought, the inability to experience common human pleasure… If he really is as smart as they say he is, then he would have struggled to find a challenge worthy enough to preoccupy him, which would cause a breakdown in the Brain's Reward System, hence the anhedonia! Maybe even the reason he's Kira, too! It's a symptom of Schizophrenia, Schizoaffective Disorder, and Schizoid Personality Disorder!"

Now that he knew this, he couldn't wait to get back to the team!

It was now coming to the end of Day 1 of the Deal, and even though so much ground had been covered, and although they were so close to the conclusion, that conclusion seemed so far away.


September 8th 2006

Day 2

The day dawned bright that morning, and thanks to yesterday's progress, the team were at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital bright and early, excited for the prospect of another job well done. House was happy that morning, or rather, bright eyed bordering on bushy tailed. Before the clock could even strike 8:30am, rumours had spread of stronger medication, of Cuddy spiking his tea, even of the use of marijuana, all because such joviality had never been observed before in the old miser.

"Good morning, ever-loving care givers!" Was what he'd greeted the Night-Shift nurses with as they passed him in the main entrance, the once-grouchy MD practically skipping and whistling as he clocked in. he'd even made a move to put on his lab coat before he remembered himself, put it back on the dusty hook slowly, before walking to his office with a resumed whistle and hobble. It had been nearly ten years ago the last time he'd done that, and no one was sorry to see it again.

He walked into his office to find Foreman, Chase, and Cameron rifling through their paperwork at the table, eager to get it out of the way before their 'proper' job began – that is, the curing of Light Yagami. They didn't even look up when he walked through the door, hearing the whistling and unable to mentally associate House with the sound. Sure, they'd heard him play the piano and rock hard on a guitar, but whistle? Never!

Keeping their eyes trained on their paper work, they tried desperately to ignore the whistling sound that hovered over their ears: It may have been a good thing that House was so happy, but the fact that this act had gone unpractised for over a decade, resulting in a lack of tune to this once-thought cheerful sound made it almost unbearable to listen to. Then again, what was becoming more and more unbearable was thinking about why House was so happy. Surely whatever had stirred the happy feelings in the old codger couldn't be good, right? Had he done away with Ryuzaki? Had he been with his favourite Nightly Dame? Had he been with Cuddy?

Hopefully though, their exaggerations would be just that – exaggerated. Perhaps it was just the fictitious marijuana talking? "So, fellow-partners-in-care-giving," began House, smiling as he slouched into his chair, leaning his cane against the table and putting his feet up, "any updates?"

Without even looking up, Chase responded with a long expelling of air, before speaking. "Nope, nothing. As far as we know, he's still fast asleep in his room."

"Yeah," replied Foreman, wiping his forehead with the back of a white sleeve, "I suppose yesterday's manic mayhem tuckered him out a little and then some." A pause ensued, and house stared expectantly at each of them, eyebrows raised.

"So…" House began, "when you're happy and you know it…"

"Check the file?" asked Cameron, putting down the paperwork, and taking Light Yagami's medical file from underneath her chair. Chase and foreman followed suit, and began poring over them: Thanks to yesterday's events, they had only had the chance to take mere glances at the file itself, using their brief interactions with the patient as the main basis for their discoveries.

"Yes, now check for anything odd, anything that'd be out of place for the average healthy Joe: Foreman, check through his previous brain scans; Chase, check through the list of previous symptoms and Cameron…" he paused for a moment, thinking.

"Yes?" she asked, expectantly.

"Check for… everything else." Ducking her head back down, she grumbled quietly to herself, flicking through the file with noticeably less vigour.

"Hey, Cameron," House said, eyes trained on her as she looked up, "without the attitude, if you please? Just get checking on the file! Maybe you can see if the darling boy was diddled by Daddy…" With a newly disgusted look on her face, Cameron returned to the file, reading intently, trying her best to curry the favour of her boss.

Now that Cameron and House's conversation had shifted towards its uneasy end, the team sat and stood in silence poring over their files for unchecked anomalies of what could otherwise be a perfect person. This silence henceforth stood for an unrecorded amount of time, before Cameron put her hand up, motioning for the others. "Look here," she said, pointing to a line on the first page, where the medical history was printed. "According to the history," she continued, the others crowding around her, "Light was actually born a twin."

"You mean his sister Sayu is actually his twin sister?" asked Chase, giving Cameron a puzzled look.

"Personally, I wouldn't have guessed," said House, swinging his cane idly, "Isn't she a bit stumpy to be his womb-mate?"

"No, of course not," said Cameron, shaking her head. "His sister is three years younger than him. No, he has a twin brother… or rather, had a twin brother…"

"So?" asked Foreman, his brow creased with concern and confusion, "where is this guy? Light may be crazy and homicidal, but that's no reason to leave the twin at Grandma's and take the more vulnerable little sister along instead."

"I was getting to that. You see, the twin brother-"

"Died?" asked Chase. "Is that it? Was it due to a genetic disease?" he made a grab for the file, but Cameron was too quick for him, and she snatched it back from underneath his nose.

"Was it some freakishly tragic accident linked to a genetic disease?" Demanded Foreman.

"Was the kid just clumsy?" Asked House, half-heartedly. He was nowhere near as excited as the others, and to him, there was no need to be: After all, a dead kid was a useless kid as far as his investigations usually went (it's not like he or she can tell him where it hurts or anything).

"No, no, and no," she answered, replying to each of her colleagues. "He was-"

Suddenly, a small beep issued from House's pocket, and Cameron was forever interrupted. Everyone else went quiet, leaving a tense silence save for the continuous bleeping.

"It's our Ripper…" House said, his voice almost a whisper. "He's not in much of a killing mood today…"

Sure enough, Chase and Cameron arrived breathless at Light's room, their eyes wide at the sight that met their eyes. Sachiko, Soichiro and Sayu were clustered around Light's bed, the positioning of their bodies blocking Case and Cameron's view of him, as well as blocking their way to him. They could hear him though: His breathing was laboured, coming in short, ragged bursts. Occasionally, he'd give a moan of pain that would strangle its way out of a bitten lip.

Finally pushing their way through a worried family, the two doctors stared in horror at the spectacle before them. Light was crouched up on his bed like a crow, his knees brought up to his chest and his contorted form balancing precariously on his feet, his shoulders rounded and hands clutched to his knees. Purple bruises like bags had formed underneath his eyes from lack of sleep, these eyes half-lidded and fogged dark with pain, the pupils darting from side to side in dreading suspicion. His mouth was contorted into a line turned down at the corners, like a rip in clothing, an effect augmented by the lips that had been bitten to shreds while slowly turning blue. The moans of pain were caused by spasms in his muscles that, starting from the legs, ran up the body, nails digging in through the trousers with tension, his head pressing against his knees.

Had it not been such a terrible circumstance, Chase and Cameron might have been able to appreciate the irony behind such a pose – it was too reminiscent of their detective Ryuzaki.

The doctors heard footsteps behind them, and in entered Foreman carrying a syringe filled with an unknown substance. Suddenly, as Light lifted his head to see Foreman, his expression of pain transmuted into one of utter revulsion. His whimpered turned to growls and his bleeding lip almost gave a narrow smirk. "You!" he said, his voice nothing more than a broken snarl in his throat, his eyes glowing dangerously with fury.

Taking a deep breath, Foreman stepped forward, grabbing hold of Light by the shoulder and pulling him down onto the pillows, the young man's distorted shape still maintained. Light struggled furiously, failing as Foreman inserted the syringe into his too-tense arm, forcing from him a yell. "You'll pay!" he managed to snarl, before being quieted by arriving staff nurses, and hidden from view by their presence.

"So," muttered Cameron, stepping back a little, "I suppose it's not Schizophrenia, then."


And that was chapter 7. I'm glad I've done this one, considering the fact that I am no longer tied down to the original. In fact, from now on I am no longer going on 'autopilot', but actually holding on to the wheel, with both hands at 10 and 2. With this finished, it has actually given me hope that it will be finished soon. With a sequel in the making, only the Shinigami know how this is going to eventually turn out, with any luck. I would've have this up for Friday, Saturday or Sun day, but I have been working hard for the institution on something that, with any luck, we'll all be able to appreciate at some point.

As for the chapter title this time, I decided that the best thing to do would be just to use something that would suffice only roughly, as nothing else seemed to fit. There might have been over more fitting ones, but I probably have better plans for them. When I chose this one, I imagined what it must've been like to be under the influence of the Thorazine, especially after such a reaction to it.

Still, now that we're no longer on Day 1, we can move on a bit more with this whole thing, and with any luck, we'll be storming through this with more confidence. However, at this point, I'd like to remind you of the poll that will be on momentarily, of the decision of whether or not to go 'sakujo' on the original version of this, for the reasons revealed above. If you have time to vote on this, you must, because it's a very important decision that must be made.

So, just R&R, vote if you can, and stay tuned for AoSI: R chapter 8.