Disclaimer: I don't own s-Cry-ed or any of the characters. I'm just taking them on a little adventure.

A/N: My fall schedule looks like something out of a nightmare. I'll try to keep up with regular updates, but I promise nothing.

Chapter 9: Damaged.

Kazuma awoke to brilliant sunlight striking him in the face. He blinked a few times with confusion and sat up. As he rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, the memory of the previous day filtered back into his mind.

He smiled as he thought of giant dinner Kanami had prepared last night. It should have been enough to feed a small army, but Kazuma had reduced it with amazing speed to nothing but scraps. While Mimori and Kanami cleaned up, they left Kazuma in a tidy little bathroom to shower. The hot water felt exquisite over his sore body, and he happily scrubbed the grim of battle off. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he was warm, full, and clean. He had barely registered the comfort of the mattress or softness of the sheets as he had collapsed into bed.

Kazuma pulled back the covers and turned to put his feet on the floor. He stood with much difficulty before struggling into a clean set of clothing that had been laid out neatly at the end of his bed. He hobbled like an old man to the bathroom. The stairs seemed an impossible obstacle, but the smell of something delicious urged him down.

Kanami was no where to be seen downstairs, but he found Mimori sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea and looking over some papers. Her eyes clouded with worry as she observed his stiff movements. "Sit down," she ordered gently while getting up and pulling out a chair for him.

Kazuma sighed with relief as he sunk into the proffered chair. "Where's Kanami?" he asked as he listened to Mimori rummage through the cabinets behind him.

"Take these," she said laying two white capsules and a glass of water in front of him. "Kanami left hours ago to work in the southwest fields."

Kazuma swallowed the pills without question. "She's alone," he asked with concern.

"Of course not," Mimori replied while busying herself at the stove, "We employ several people from the area to help with the farming."

"Why aren't you working in the fields?" he demanded.

Mimori sat a bowl of miso soup on his right and a bowl of steamed rice to his left. "I have my own work to attend to," she answered calmly. "Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Neither," Kazuma answered hungrily eyeing the soup and rice.

Mimori returned a minute later with a glass of milk, a plate of natto, and a dish of pickles. She placed them down on the table around him before returning to her chair. Kazuma took this as his cue to start shoveling food into his mouth. Mimori seemed to ignore Kazuma as she returned to studying her papers, but she would quickly rise and refill a dish as soon as he emptied it.

When Kazuma finally leaned back with a satisfied groan, Mimori rose and made quick work of clearing the table. "Those pills I gave you should be kicking in soon," she said over her shoulder as she efficiently washed out the breakfast dishes. "However, when I'm done here, we should go over to the clinic and get you thoroughly checked out."

"Hey," Kazuma protested, "I don't want anyone poking and prodding me."

"Don't be such a baby," Mimori admonished. "You'll be of no use to Kanami and I hobbling about like an old man."

The use of Kanami's name had the desired effect. Kazuma grumbled, but he dutifully followed Mimori across the gravel turn about to the clinic. If he had known just how thorough Mimori intend to be, he might have not been so quick to give in.

Kazuma proved to be the most ill behaved patient that Mimori had ever treated. He surpassed even the Higurashi terror twins, and she was quite certain those boys were some part demon. He whined when Mimori tightened the blood pressure cup. He kept spitting out the thermometer until she threaten him with a rectal one. He complained the whole time she tried to listen to his lung sounds, and blatantly refused to say "AHH" and let her examine his throat. Finally, he nearly shoved her through the wall when she stuck him with a needle to draw blood.

As she fell, Mimori overturned a small tray of instruments. They tinkled like tiny bells as they scattered on the concrete floor around her. "Those were sterile," Mimori cried in exasperation.

Kazuma angrily plucked the syringe from his arm. He did feel a moment of remorse though as he watched her absently rub her shoulder. He hadn't meant to hurt her. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Mimori growled as she struggled to stand, "You're worse than a two year old." She picked up the overturned tray and began gathering up the fallen instruments.

"I don't believe you," she continued, "You could barely walk this morning, you've got lacerations and bruises all over your body, and you can hardly move your right arm. I try to help you, and you swat at me like an annoying insect. Well you can just go to the devil." The pinging of metal instruments hitting a metal tray seemed to accent her angry speech.

"Look," he retorted, "I said I'm sorry. Let's just get this over with."

Mimori released a heavy sigh and placed the tray of sullied instruments back down on the edge of the exam table. She seemed about ready to cry. "Okay," she sighed, "but no more complaining or fidgeting or knocking me about."

"I promise," Kazuma agreed.

"Okay," Mimori sighed. "Take off your shirt."

"What!" Kazuma yelled.

"You promised," she reminded him.

Kazuma grumbled but did as he was told. Mimori quickly focused on his right arm. With expert fingers, she carefully examined the joints and muscles. She also guided him through a series of simple exercises like trying to lift his arm over his head or pushing his arm away from his body against a slight resistance. He seemed to be failing miserably, and Mimori was constantly pausing to jot down notes. By the time she told him he could put his shirt back on, Kazuma was genuinely worried. "What's the verdict?" he

"I'm not going to lie to you Kazuma," Mimori said pulling up a stool to sit beside the exam table. "You're in pretty bad shape. You've lost approximately 60-70 of the mobility in your right arm and shoulder."

"It will heal with time, right?" he asked.

"You could possibly regain 10 to 15 of the movement back with enough time," she replied. "That is assuming of course that you never use your alter again."

"Never use my alter, are you crazy?" he retorted. "I'm an alter user. That's what I do."

She met his eyes dead on with a steely gaze. "If you continue using your alter, especially at intensity and with frequency you've done in the past, you will likely become completely paralyzed on the right side of your body."

Kazuma was stunned. It was as if she had punched him square in the gut. "I don't believe you."

"You know it's not just your arm anymore," she commented. "It stares you in the face every time you look in the mirror. You've lost the use of your right eye and some of the control in your facial muscles. You're body is breaking down."

She spoke the truth. He couldn't deny it. Kazuma shifted his gaze towards his right arm that hung limply at his side. He was able with great pain to move it into his lap, but that was about it. There was genuine fear in his voice when he asked, "You can do something, right? Give me some more pills?"

"Those pills were merely for the pain and inflammation," she replied. "They aren't going to improve your condition. The only way to achieve that is with aggressive treatment."

"What kind of treatment?" he asked his voice hesitant.

"It's something that I've developed over the past few years especially for alter users," she explained. "It's complete non-invasive and virtually pain free."

"But this treatment of yours will work?" he demanded.

"You'll never be 100 again, especially if you continue to abuse your alter power." She stopped his inevitable protest by quickly continuing, "I'm not asking you to quit using your alter power all together. All I ask is that you to be more cautious about it. Treatment will be almost useless if you continue to push yourself past the limits."

"Okay," Kazuma grumbled, "I get it. I'll do your stupid treatment."

"Good." Mimori smiled, stood, and offered him her hand. "I have house calls to make this afternoon, but we can begin this evening. Until then, you can make yourself useful in the fields."