Four

'Are you an asthmatic, Miss Kino?'

'No,' Makoto sighed, repeating for what felt like the hundredth time, 'I've never had any health problems in my life.'

The doctor, a bored-looking 50-something with ear-length brown hair gave her a patronising smile.

'The attack you had was quite severe, for someone who's never had any respiratory problems,' the doctor continued.

'You're telling me,' Mako huffed. 'Maybe all the smog of this city is finally getting to people?' she blinked snobbishly and turned her head away.

'Yes,' the doctor stood and clipped a board to the end of Makoto's hospital bed. 'It could be the smog. Or it could be your own fault.'

Makoto's head snapped to him.

'My fault? I have to be the healthiest person I know, just ask any of my friends-'

'I don't need to. I could see it when you came in here,' the doctor sat on the side of Makoto's bed.

Makoto opened her mouth in protest, but no speech came out. Her chest felt tight suddenly and her eyes wanted to bulge out of her head.

'I know a great deal about you. All your records suggest that you are quite the little superstar,' the doctor seemed oblivious to the fact that Makoto was having an asthmatic attack of some sort.

'My…records?' Makoto held her chest, then clenched her eyes shut.

What did he know? Why isn't he helping me?

Makoto's chest felt ready to explode when she felt her element surge through her. Her frustration was fueling it, she thought offside.

She snapped open her eyes and grabbed the doctor by the front of the shirt.

'How…you…just help me,' Makoto gave up trying to talk and stared the doctor in the eyes viciously. They were jade green, like her own, but this information barely registered.

The doctor startled, then took Makoto's hands. The girl was weakening, and couldn't retain her grasp.

'What kind of doctor is this,' Makoto wondered angrily.

'There you are,' the doctor's smile was cruel, his voice lowered. 'It is such a shame, so much life to live, and so little time…'

'HELP!' Makoto screamed, fed up with this doctor's game.

The doctor's eyes narrowed, and stood slowly, settling Makoto back into her bed and pressing her hands together on top of her heart, as though she were a corpse being laid to rest. As soon as she lay down, Makoto felt a bizarre warmth rip through her like a whistling wind – and she could breathe again.

But under her hands, a searing pain ripped through her blood.

Makoto clenched her eyes again, and this time her teeth, to deal with the pain, unable to cry out from lack of energy.

'Well until the doctor can see you, we will have to keep you on the respirator I'm afraid.'

Makoto's eyes whipped open. The pain in her hand throbbed dully, and she looked to it. In the center of her open palm was a pure white blister like a sharp slash.

The 'doctor' was gone. A young nurse stood at the side of her bed holding her chart.

Makoto clenched her jaw and breathed steadily. 'I am fine. I don't need it.'

'You weren't fine at three in the morning when your neighbour phoned us.'

'I…' Makoto went to rebuke the impossible woman and stopped. I don't know what happened, she wanted to say. She'd never been asthmatic, never had a history of any health problems, especially respiratory with the amount of exercise she did. That strange doctor was behind her problems, she knew, but he also seemed to be able to cure her. Why? Who was he?

The nurse put a comradely hand on Mako's shoulder.

'You will feel weak for a little while longer, Miss Kino,' she said stiffly. 'You must not have another attack like this mornings,' the nurse held the respirator out.

Makoto took it roughly and held it over her nose. If only she knew what she'd just experienced.

Warm, damp air rushed into her body as she breathed.

As soon as the nurse left, Makoto put the ridiculous respirator mask on her side table and picked up her magazine. She didn't take in any of the words; she was seething. How could she have had an asthma attack? How could someone other than herself seem to have control over her breathing?

She felt her hair begin to prickle with charge and the plant on her window sill began to bud and flower rapidly. Makoto told herself to cool down before her element got the better of her again – she didn't have the energy to spare.

Within fifteen minutes, Ami hurried into the room.

'Mako-chan, what happened?' she asked quietly, giving her the same pained, sorrow-filled look that many of the nurses had given her as though she was fragile and about to break.

'Nothing, I just need you to talk to your mother and get me out of here,' Makoto put the magazine down, not wishing to elaborate in a public place.

Ami looked taken back and read Mako's chart.

Her brow furrowed.

'Nothing? Makoto, I didn't know you were asthmatic.'

'I'm not,' she held her head up in best effort to appear in control. 'I just…had an incident.'

'What happened?' Ami took a seat gingerly by the hospitalised girl.

The previous night's blurred memories flooded Makoto's mind and she grudgingly began to tell Ami as discreetly as possible.