Dreams Shatter
10-30-01
AN: This was inspired by the death-by-carcrash of a 17-yr-old I knew...and the dreams that followed. Sorry it's so down...but it's done. I'm not going to wrap this one up.
"...and will Kaiou Michiru please come to the office. This concludes our morning bulletin. Have a good day." The PA's fuzzy voice stilled as the student population went back to its daily task of discussing the newest boy-toy of so-and-so. Michiru, meanwhile, swiftly made her way to the office. She had history first period, and she didn't want to miss more of it than she had to.
In the office, she stood in front of the secretary, waiting to be acknowledged. "Oh--Miss Kaiou. Ah...the guidance counselor would like to talk to you." Her eyes never met Michiru's. Slightly wary now, Michiru walked to the open doorway of the counselor's office and knocked.
"Hello?"
"Oh--Miss Kaiou. Please sit down," sweeping his hand towards an empty chair. After she had taken her seat, his countenance assumed a sympathetic, reluctant expression. "I'm very sorry--you see, well...Ten'ou Haruka had…there was...an accident. The motorcycle--she was hit, and I'm afraid...I don't know how to say this...she is in the emergency ward at the hospital...we wouldn't have wanted to tell you this, now, during classes, but, you see...her condition is not..._stable_...and she said she wanted to see you..." His voice trailed off as he looked as Michiru for the first time in the whole conversation. Her frame was straight, her head lifted, her eyes, slightly hollow, looking straight ahead. Her hands, on the arms of her chair, were visibly shaking.
"Miss Kaiou?" The counselor's voice was soft, without any trace of its customary professionalism.
"I want to go see her." Michiru's voice was clear...about as clear a diamond containing a salty liquid pearl. "You said she's asking for me. Let me go see her."
"Of course...in exceptional circumstances such as these, you will be excused from classes. I will drive you to the hospital as soon as we obtain your parents' consent." And his voice was again cold and perfunctory.
Michiru looked at him with slight disdain. "I don't have any."
"Well...in that case," he began, perplexed.
And ten sluggish minutes of red tape later, she sat in the backseat of a large black car that moved cautiously, timidly through the streets. With disgust Michiru compared her current pace to the rate at which she could be flowing through the traffic--and her heart labored her breath as it remembered golden hair and a golden car.
-----
Michiru followed the counselor into the lobby of the hospital and stood mute while he explained the situation. The receptionist paged a nurse, and while they waited for her arrival, the robotic, well-meaning, imbecilic woman behind the desk tried to comfort Michiru by reading Haruka's chart.
"Internal injuries, bleeding..."and Michiru's heart cried out. "A few broken bones..." and an awful image of her elegant runner, lamed, flashed across Michiru's mind. "...in pretty bad straits when they brought her in...she's not out of the woods yet." Michiru still stood passively listening to the bumbling receptionist's drone, but inside she was crying, leaning against thin air because her one support in sorrow was herself leaning on Michiru for aid.
Finally, the nurse who was to take her to Haruka arrived and introduced herself as such; to Michiru, this RN was an angel. "Follow me, miss," and Michiru did willingly, keeping her eyes trained on the nape of the nurse's neck as they meandered through the corridors. Soon the nurse turned into a rather large room and Michiru followed; the nurse waited until her aqua-tressed charge was fully in the room and facing her before saying, "Third bed. Hit the call button if anything happens; she's still unstable."
"Thank you." When the nurse had left the room, Michiru moved towards Haruka's bed.
An IV, with its flimsy cellophane tape, was more than enough to hold down the once-proud racer. Scabs had already begun to form on her cheeks where the pavement had ripped its little claws into her face. The medicinal smell of the crisp linen sheets veiled Michiru and the ocean breeze she brought with her, preventing the half-conscious Haruka from sensing the swimmer's presence.
Haruka slowly opened her eyes as she felt hands running through her short gold hair. With an effort, she turned away from the window to face the person at her bedside. Slowly her eyes adjusted and picked out details of the silhouette. Aqua hair...gentle eyes...soft hands...
"Mi-chi..." Her voice was raspy and her breath labored.
"Shhh...don't talk." Michiru laid her index finger across Haruka's lips. The pair sat for a while in silence, and it was Haruka who broke the soft quiet.
"Michi...is my bike totaled?" Her voice carried a tone that suggested that 'bike' was some sort of irreplaceable living creature. Her eyes weakly attempted a laugh.
"I don't know anything...they didn't even tell me what happened."
"You'd think a 'top racer' like me could avoid a minivan, wouldn't you? Some ass ran a red, and I jumped the gun on my green They broadsided me...right in the leg." Haruka grimaced.
"Do you know..." Michiru didn't want to finish the thought aloud.
"The bone is shattered. Even with all the drugs they've doped me up on, it still hurts like hell. They won't give me a straight answer whether I'll be able to run..." She didn't even try to gentle this last with a smile; her eyes were filled with so much distress, and even a hint of fear, that it would've been pointless to act anyway.
Michiru took Haruka's hand in her own slender palms, clasping it tightly. Bringing all three to her face, she laid her cheek against them. Haruka flexed the fingertips which extended past Michiru's hand and slowly stroked the swimmer's skin.
~fin~
10-30-01
AN: This was inspired by the death-by-carcrash of a 17-yr-old I knew...and the dreams that followed. Sorry it's so down...but it's done. I'm not going to wrap this one up.
"...and will Kaiou Michiru please come to the office. This concludes our morning bulletin. Have a good day." The PA's fuzzy voice stilled as the student population went back to its daily task of discussing the newest boy-toy of so-and-so. Michiru, meanwhile, swiftly made her way to the office. She had history first period, and she didn't want to miss more of it than she had to.
In the office, she stood in front of the secretary, waiting to be acknowledged. "Oh--Miss Kaiou. Ah...the guidance counselor would like to talk to you." Her eyes never met Michiru's. Slightly wary now, Michiru walked to the open doorway of the counselor's office and knocked.
"Hello?"
"Oh--Miss Kaiou. Please sit down," sweeping his hand towards an empty chair. After she had taken her seat, his countenance assumed a sympathetic, reluctant expression. "I'm very sorry--you see, well...Ten'ou Haruka had…there was...an accident. The motorcycle--she was hit, and I'm afraid...I don't know how to say this...she is in the emergency ward at the hospital...we wouldn't have wanted to tell you this, now, during classes, but, you see...her condition is not..._stable_...and she said she wanted to see you..." His voice trailed off as he looked as Michiru for the first time in the whole conversation. Her frame was straight, her head lifted, her eyes, slightly hollow, looking straight ahead. Her hands, on the arms of her chair, were visibly shaking.
"Miss Kaiou?" The counselor's voice was soft, without any trace of its customary professionalism.
"I want to go see her." Michiru's voice was clear...about as clear a diamond containing a salty liquid pearl. "You said she's asking for me. Let me go see her."
"Of course...in exceptional circumstances such as these, you will be excused from classes. I will drive you to the hospital as soon as we obtain your parents' consent." And his voice was again cold and perfunctory.
Michiru looked at him with slight disdain. "I don't have any."
"Well...in that case," he began, perplexed.
And ten sluggish minutes of red tape later, she sat in the backseat of a large black car that moved cautiously, timidly through the streets. With disgust Michiru compared her current pace to the rate at which she could be flowing through the traffic--and her heart labored her breath as it remembered golden hair and a golden car.
-----
Michiru followed the counselor into the lobby of the hospital and stood mute while he explained the situation. The receptionist paged a nurse, and while they waited for her arrival, the robotic, well-meaning, imbecilic woman behind the desk tried to comfort Michiru by reading Haruka's chart.
"Internal injuries, bleeding..."and Michiru's heart cried out. "A few broken bones..." and an awful image of her elegant runner, lamed, flashed across Michiru's mind. "...in pretty bad straits when they brought her in...she's not out of the woods yet." Michiru still stood passively listening to the bumbling receptionist's drone, but inside she was crying, leaning against thin air because her one support in sorrow was herself leaning on Michiru for aid.
Finally, the nurse who was to take her to Haruka arrived and introduced herself as such; to Michiru, this RN was an angel. "Follow me, miss," and Michiru did willingly, keeping her eyes trained on the nape of the nurse's neck as they meandered through the corridors. Soon the nurse turned into a rather large room and Michiru followed; the nurse waited until her aqua-tressed charge was fully in the room and facing her before saying, "Third bed. Hit the call button if anything happens; she's still unstable."
"Thank you." When the nurse had left the room, Michiru moved towards Haruka's bed.
An IV, with its flimsy cellophane tape, was more than enough to hold down the once-proud racer. Scabs had already begun to form on her cheeks where the pavement had ripped its little claws into her face. The medicinal smell of the crisp linen sheets veiled Michiru and the ocean breeze she brought with her, preventing the half-conscious Haruka from sensing the swimmer's presence.
Haruka slowly opened her eyes as she felt hands running through her short gold hair. With an effort, she turned away from the window to face the person at her bedside. Slowly her eyes adjusted and picked out details of the silhouette. Aqua hair...gentle eyes...soft hands...
"Mi-chi..." Her voice was raspy and her breath labored.
"Shhh...don't talk." Michiru laid her index finger across Haruka's lips. The pair sat for a while in silence, and it was Haruka who broke the soft quiet.
"Michi...is my bike totaled?" Her voice carried a tone that suggested that 'bike' was some sort of irreplaceable living creature. Her eyes weakly attempted a laugh.
"I don't know anything...they didn't even tell me what happened."
"You'd think a 'top racer' like me could avoid a minivan, wouldn't you? Some ass ran a red, and I jumped the gun on my green They broadsided me...right in the leg." Haruka grimaced.
"Do you know..." Michiru didn't want to finish the thought aloud.
"The bone is shattered. Even with all the drugs they've doped me up on, it still hurts like hell. They won't give me a straight answer whether I'll be able to run..." She didn't even try to gentle this last with a smile; her eyes were filled with so much distress, and even a hint of fear, that it would've been pointless to act anyway.
Michiru took Haruka's hand in her own slender palms, clasping it tightly. Bringing all three to her face, she laid her cheek against them. Haruka flexed the fingertips which extended past Michiru's hand and slowly stroked the swimmer's skin.
~fin~