(…whose dark mists enveloped every corner of the world…)
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Anna never believed in the supernatural. Even as a child she laughed at the stories of ghosts and werewolves and demons - something she puts down to her parents never giving her the joy of believing in Santa Claus. She spent her entire life building her arguments on scientific facts and evidence. Perhaps that was the reason she admired her uncle's profession in the first place.
May he rest in peace.
Sam Nixon – who looked nothing like Beyond, and Anna didn't understand in the least why he took his place in her dream – despite not even having enough free time to get the recommended daily hours of sleep, was always a crutch in Anna's life. When she didn't outgrow her adoration for him he dropped the smile and dedicated his time to helping her. It was with his help that Anna managed to confirm a place in the South California's Medical School.
He was a man of science, with an incredible influence over her life. An influence that ended on September 11 the year before, while he was in a medical conference in New York, suffocating within minutes in the cloud of debris created by thousands of tons of concrete plummeting to the ground. Anna was devastated but not once did she utter a prayer.
Of course like any American she often remarked about heaven and hell – the only difference between her and the rest where that her claims never held any substance.
And her views never were challenged until Beyond came into her life less than a month ago.
But when she sat there in the hospital waiting room for her appointment with her doctor she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the dream – or hallucination, whatever it was – of the Shinigami.
All because of her deteriorating health. Anna couldn't understand what in the hell was going on with her body. She ran through the main symptoms in her head: nausea, light-headedness, panic attacks, migraines, the inability to keep down the food she ate and the heartache which felt like she was being repeatedly stabbed in the chest – after yesterday's morning she was forced to add fainting to the list – and even after hours of pondering she drew a blank.
She vomited seven times before her morning appointment at 10:30 am.
A new record.
When she woke after passing out the night before Beyond proceeded to laugh in her face, mocking her for not being able to handle the mere sound of gore. She responded with a punch to his jaw, not bothering to enter a verbal argument knowing that he wouldn't listen either way.
She knew that his speech about the impending third murder was not what caused her reaction. She was a medical student for Christ sake! She could handle it. The most she felt when faced with a gruesome article was feel sick – and even that didn't last for longer than a moment.
Her fainting at the sight of blood was a ridiculous claim.
So there she was waiting for a gap in the doctor's schedule, having taken two blood tests two hours ago, determined not to leave his office until he explained every detail of what was going on.
She could see her hands, resting on her thighs and even in a still position they shook. She was thankful that she wasn't a high school student, having to return to school in less than a week. South California's Medical Institution started its Autumn Semester a month later than others.
A month.
That's how long Anna had to figure all of this out and her mind wondered whether Beyond would remain in her life for so long. She shook her head, focusing on the problem at hand. If she didn't deal with her poor health, she would risk her hands shaking over a body on an autopsy table.
Which would be very, very bad.
She would be kicked out before she even had the chance to observe a minor operation.
"Miss Nixon?"
Anna looked up from her hands, squinting when the overly bright ceiling lights blinded her. A middle aged nurse with a painted smile motioned for the girl to follow her into the small office, the smell of medical detergent immediately wafting into her nostrils.
She tried to react as inconspicuously as she could but still her cheeks puffed and her breath hitched in her throat, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
Even the morgue she visited on special assignments in school didn't stink that bad.
Dr. Marshall Jones rose from his seat, straightening his white lab coat. He stuck his hand for Anna to shake – an action the girl hesitated to pursue due to having to breathe in the chemical air. "It's nice to see you again Anna," he said, chuckling at her discomfort as he dropped her hand and motioned for her to sit on an armchair. "Don't worry, I find the smell too much as well sometimes. When I joined the medical profession I assumed the aim was not to trigger an allergic reaction – ironic isn't it. It seems the air itself has been scrubbed."
He settled into his own seat - after the medical secretary handed him a thin paper bound file and turned back to work besides a computer screen - with a paper covered desk in between them. He leaned on his elbows, opening the file and scanning his eyes over the small print, humming.
Dr. Jones looked up with a smile. "How are you today, anyway? Must be serious to come to the hospital on a Sunday." Anna didn't reply, instead pointedly staring at her test results in front of him, frowning when it was too far for her to read. The doctor chuckled, nodding. "Alright, I get it. You haven't changed a bit – always straight to the point."
He was the doctor to the Nixons for 20 years – ever since Anna's parents got married. Such a long term commitment was surprising to say the least – Mark and Christina were very hard to impress and abandoned things at the sight of a slightest fault.
Anna sighed in relief, immediately regretting once she breathed in again, her hands slowly rising to her mouth before she managed to stop them and force them under her legs. "Give it to me straight, doc."
The doctor laughed, the crow's feet by his eyes more defined when his eyes narrowed in laughter. He cleared his throat and read the file more closely, picking up the pen and scrawling down a few words in the illegible script all the doctors share.
The girl sighed, rolling her eyes as she looked around uncomfortably, her foot tapping. The blue curtain swayed gently as the fresh breeze slowly pumped the room through the open window. Her eyes rested on a family photograph: Dr. Jones with his two sons over whom he has partial custody with his ex-wife.
Anna couldn't even recall why she knew such a personal detail.
"What were your symptoms again?" The doctor asked as he put down the file, focusing on his patient's wandering eyes.
She looked up, pretending to think for a moment. "It's as I wrote it down on the form with the blood tests. I'm not able to keep down any food. I keep passing out. My vision is getting worse by the day…"
Dr. Marshall Jones nodded, scanning the girl's withered form. "Well this might come as a disappointment to you, Miss Nixon, but I honestly can't see anything wrong with you. Your blood pressure is just as healthy as it has always been and I can't see any problem with your heart. The only thing I can note on is that your nutrient levels are low." He gave her a disapproving look. "We talked about this a few times before – you need to eat properly! You're always running out of iron and I believe it's been over a year now since you've had your last menstrual cycle."
His patient shifted in her seat, mumbling in her breath. "I am eating enough food – it simply doesn't give my body the chance to absorb any of it."
The man in front of her didn't give a sign of having heard her, instead clearing his throat again before continuing. "My best guess is that you're simply too stressed lately. I believe I don't need to explain the major effect stress could have on the physical body to a medical student."
Anna's vision blurred before the black shadow morphed back into her doctor and she blinked, registering his words. She could have face-palmed. "Stress? Seriously?"
She chose to ignore the reminder her brain sent her that she had come up with the same explanation not too long ago.
Dr. Jones shrugged with an apologetic smile on his face as he closed the file and tapped his fingers on the cover. "I could recommend further testing but I believe it would simply waste your time. Just try to take it easy for a while and the symptoms should lessen. Enjoy the rest of your holidays! You still take the medication prescribed by Dr. Foveaux for your PTSD, correct?" Anna nodded out of instinct. "Well then there's nothing to worry about. But do contact me if it worsens! And make sure to eat properly too."
Anna sighed but nodded, offering the doctor a tight smile. She sat on the edge of her seat awkwardly tapping her fingers on her knees before she realised the doctor tapped the pen on his desk impatiently, expecting her to leave. The secretarial nurse loudly cleared her throat, making Anna jump, already holding the door open.
With the glare she had fixed on her, the medical student rushed out of the office, suddenly aware why as a child, the moments she didn't spend wanting to be a doctor, she spent being frightened to death of them.
.
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Anna shut the front door to her apartment and sighed, resting her forehead against the cool surface.
Half a day, wasted.
Letting out a heavy breath she turned, dropping her bag to the floor, ignoring the apples that rolled out from the paper grocery bag and onto the carpet. She dragged her feet towards the bed fully intent on falling face first into the blankets, rubbing her eyes before they focused on Beyond.
The black haired man sat in front of her school laptop, one leg to his chest and the other crossed beneath him, his pale face almost ghostly in the darkened room.
Anna stared, her jaw gritting as her teeth scraped in anger. "What are you doing?"
Beyond didn't even look at her, his eyes flickering across the screen, a thumb to his lips. "Perhaps you should add blindness to your list of symptoms."
Anna barked out a sarcastic laugh. Very funny.
She growled, stomping over to him and trying to take her shoes off in the process, annoyed that he took her school computer. "But it's password protected!" Beyond scoffed as if the concept posed him no more threat than a cockroach. She stumbled into step behind him, her eyes squinting as she tried to look at the screen past the white glare.
She immediately recognised the Wara Ningyo dolls, Believe Bridesmaid's mutilated chest and Quarter Queen's blonde locks matted with blood.
"Are- Are those the crime scene photos? I don't remember seeing them in the paper – Did you just hack into the police's archives?"
"Do not fret: they won't notice my presence."
Anna stood, pointing at the back of his head, her eyes flickering between his hair and the screen, the entire time her mouth closing and opening soundlessly. He waved it off like it was no big deal!
Finally she gave up, not finding any energy to argue with the maniac, announcing she was going to take a shower – jabbing at him with her eyes a warning not to do anything funny – and hoping that the warm water could wash away her thoughts the way it washed away the dirt.
It didn't.
Mostly due to the reason that two minutes through washing her hair she threw up again, the half-digested pieces of a pastry she grabbed on the way home, all over her. She spent the next thirty minutes scrubbing the skin raw with soap, screeching the words "Ew, ew, ew, ew!" at the top of her lungs.
She climbed out of the bath even more exhausted, ignoring when her rough grip on the shower curtain ripped it off and it fell to her feet. She wiped the condensation from the mirror with her palm, frowning when she noticed that her hair was visibly thinner, and her cheekbones stuck out more than she recalled.
She scratched her head, reaching for the towel to dry herself with. "Perhaps I am wasting away." She rubbed her tummy, reminding herself to eat three dinner's worth of food as soon as she got out. She smiled, deciding on pizza, her mouth already watering merely at the thought of the melting cheese.
She reached for her clothes, only to roll her eyes when she realised she didn't bring a change. She wrapped the towel as tightly around her as she could while still allowing herself to breath, cracking open the window to let the steam out.
Anna opened the bathroom door slowly, distracted by the tremors running through her arm only for Beyond to fall at her feet with a yelp, immediately rubbing his sore head. She screamed, jumping back and pointing her index finger at him.
"What the hell are you doing, you pervert!"
Beyond groaned, her shrill voice not helping the pain he felt. He stood to his feet, unaffected by the horror filled glare that was directed at him.
Anna kicked Beyond, enjoying the pained howls he released, all the way back to the main room, yelling all the profanities that came to mind. She rested her hand on her knees, feeling the energy drain her by the second.
"I," she puffed, "hate you."
The black haired man rubbed his aching limps, rising to his feet from his position on the floor. "That was uncalled for!" he wailed.
She scoffed, sticking her nose in the air defiantly. She observed with glee that a bruise was forming on his collarbone and her laptop was put away. She stared down at him through her eyelashes. "I am ordering a pizza and I am not giving you a single bite."
Beyond rolled his eyes, straightening out, not quite sure as to how that particular statement was any sort of a punishment. "You are over-reacting. I simply heard a yell and was worried for you safety."
Anna scanned his face, not liking the look of innocence plastered all over it. She tightened the grip on her towel, rummaging through her draws before pulling out a black t-shirt and a pair of shorts – making sure to bury her underwear in-between the two articles of clothing.
"Don't ignore me," Beyond complained, stepping to stand in front of her. "I was looking out for you! And you repay me by kicking me!?"
Anna hesitated in her way back to the bathroom, smelling the lie, before recollecting her breath and with a deep sigh she stepped around him, repeating to herself that punching him would not be worth the knuckle pain.
"Besides, you really should not be that embarrassed. Most of the women your age have boyfriends, do you not have one?"
Well there went that self-control. Anna whirled around, her eyes flaring. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Beyond shrugged, reaching for a nearby book and opening it to a random page. "I am simply curious. I have deduced so far that you haven't had a romantic interest for a few years now, which when put against the fact that 70% of the college aged students have a boyfriend or a girlfriend is a little surprising considering you don't seem to be against the concept. Of course I could be wrong – after all I have observed multiple men express interest in you and yet you often remain oblivious to their intentions-"
"Please stop talking," Anna interrupted, having stopped listening the moment he mentioned percentages, folding her arms. Beyond gave her a glance, raising an eyebrow, but quieting never the less. "Whenever you open your mouth I just have this unbearable urge to hit you."
The black haired man rolled his eyes, turning back to the book in his hand. "I'll take that as a no, then."
The girl stomped her feet, annoyed. She clearly saw through his ignorance to the fact that he was only reading the book to appear nonchalant. "And what if you are wrong? You don't follow me to work! I could be meeting with somebody there."
Beyond gave her a disbelieving look, fighting the smile that made his lips twitch upwards. "You are a rather bad liar, Anna Nixon, did anybody tell you that? Well, perhaps that's not quite the right way to put it. You are a good enough of a liar, but when it comes to me you should be aware that lying is pointless. I very much doubt you have a romantic partner I am unaware of."
The girl in question raised a challenging eyebrow. "And why's that?"
"You wouldn't be blushing right now if you did."
She scoffed. She was not blushing.
Anna gave him one last glare before marching back to the bathroom and shutting the door with a bang that caused Beyond's ears to ring. She let out a huff, giving her reflection a glance, yelling out in terror when she saw the red on her cheeks.
This couldn't be happening.
Grabbing a corner of the towel and dropping her clothes on the floor in the process she roughly wiped at her cheek as if the red tint were nothing but paint. All it did was make it worse. Anna pouted, cursing Beyond under her breath while throwing the towel away from her and scrambling to change, avoiding her reflection the entire time.
He could threaten to kill her as much as he wanted – she would be getting the bed tonight.
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A/N: And this chapter shows how the medical system fails so many of us. JUST KIDDING – I simply wanted to be an asshole to Anna and not let her find out why she feels like utter crap. I'm sure doctors do a much better job with all of you readers.