Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis. I do own Fuji's soul . . . ok so I don't own that either
The fluorescent lights made a soft buzz as they shut down. The sound was almost comforting to Kaidoh Kaoru as he made his rounds through the asylum, checking the doors and alarm systems. He loved how quiet the hallways were as he locked up, happy that all the rooms were soundproofed. Having to deal with the insanity he faced during the day was enough; he didn't want to have to deal with it at night.
As he turned the last corner, he noticed a light. Frowning, he followed the illicit light to largest of the on-site labs. The light was spilling the door which stood slightly ajar. Kaidoh peeked through the door, suddenly cautious.
A tall man in one of the uniform lab coats stood with his back to the door. A bottle of some unknown liquid boiled beside him as he measured out an equally unnamable ingredient.
Kaidoh watched for a little, waiting for the man to finish whatever he was doing before he interrupted him. It wouldn't do to have the newly cleaned floors dirtied.
"Excuse me, sir," Kaidoh stepped into the room. The man in the lab coat spun.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? Do you have authorization?" he asked.
"I should be asking you," Kaidoh growled, "This room was closed though, so I assume you have a key and thus must assume you work here. You'll have to leave now, though, I have to lock up."
The man's expression was unreadable behind his thick square glasses, but Kaidoh was patient.
"My name is Inui Sadaharu."
Kaidoh was taken aback, "Psssh! Er . . . hello?"
Inui waited, watching.
Kaidoh shifted his weight to his other foot, "Is there something wrong?"
"When someone tells you their name, one usually responds in turn," Inui smiled. Kaidoh flushed, he always strived to be polite to everyone.
"Kaidoh . . . Kaidoh Kaoru," he muttered.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Kaidoh," Inui smiled.
"Psssh. . . Likewise," Kaidoh looked away, "Now if you are done I would like to finish locking up."
"I was hoping to finish this new juice tonight," Inui said hesitantly.
"When do you get here in the morning?" Kaidoh asked suddenly.
"Five," Inui cocked his head, confused by the question. Kaidoh simply shook his head.
"You will not be productive unless you get the proper amount of sleep," he said simply, "If you want this 'juice' or whatever to turn out correctly you should go home and sleep." Inui stared at him for a moment. He has good reason to, Kaidoh realized, I had just tried to kick a scientist out of a lab I don't even own.
"I think I will do just that," Kaidoh blinked.
"Huh?" Inui smiled, taking off his lab coat and replacing it with a light jacket.
"I said I think I will go home and get some sleep," he repeated, still smiling.
"Psssh. G…good for you," Kaidoh said, he felt strangely awkward.
"Well, good night," Inui swept past him toward the exit.
"Good night," Kaidoh mumbled.
Ryoma stared up at the ceiling. It must be night, he realized, because he couldn't even hear the buzz that came from the fluorescent lights in the hall.
"Its night," he told no one in particular.
"So?" Ryoma almost wet himself before he remembered the psychopath he was rooming with now.
"So its night," Ryoma growled, trying to ignore his roommate.
There was a moment of silence, then, "How do you know?"
"You can't hear the lights in the hall," Ryoma explained.
"Can't hear the . . . You hear lights!"
"You can hear the ones in the hall." Ryoma explained
"How? Can you see the smells in the air too," his roommate sneered.
Ryoma resisted the urge to beat the other senseless, a goal made easy by the straight jacket that constricted his arm to the point where he couldn't even poke the other let alone punch him, "They buzz."
"Smells buzz?"
Ryoma counted to ten before answering, "No, the lights do."
"Why do they buzz?"
"Shouldn't you be sleeping or something," he snapped.
"No, I'm not tired."
"Well maybe I am!" he growled.
"Your not, you slept all day."
"That doesn't mean I'm not tired!"
"Well are you?"
". . . No, but that's not the point."
"Yes it is!"
"No its not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
". . . Thank you."
"Is no- what?"
"I said thank you." Ryoma turned his head so he could see his roommate. The other was sitting in the opposite corner, eyes fixed on his feet as he spoke.
"For what?" Ryoma asked, turning to face him a little better.
"For talking to me," he glanced up for a second then his gaze returned to his socks. Ryoma stared at him. What else would he do? Talk to himself?
"Your welcome," Ryoma slumped up against the corner of the room, suddenly tired.
Momo smiled, lying down. The one good thing about padded rooms was you didn't have to be picky about where you slept.
Maybe it was the edge of sleep creeping over his consciousness, but as he started to fall asleep, he could have sworn he heard a soft "thank you".
Tezuka checked the clipboard again, reading and rereading scientific terms as he cross referenced them to the computer. But try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint patient 3KU5's disorder.
"Tezuka! How unusual," Tezuka turned to see Inui, the asylum's head chemist in the doorway, "Usually you just ask for information instead of troubling yourself, is something the matter?"
Tezuka shook his head, more to clear it than in denial, "I was just cross referencing a patient's chart."
"Oh? Which patient?" Inui sat down at his desk and booted up his master computer.
"3KU5-UUY5," Tezuka told him, he didn't even need to look at the clipboard, he couldn't forget his encounter with said patient.
Inui's fingers flew across the keyboard, Tezuka walked over to stand behind Inui so he could see the screen over his shoulder. A picture of a smiling brown-haired man appeared on the screen.
"That's him," Tezuka read the basic information provided beside it, "Height: 167 cm. Blood type: B. This isn't helpful, Inui."
Inui's fingers danced with the keyboard again, a new window popped up filled with information. Tezuka scanned the page until a passage caught his eye.
Patient suffers from delusional paranoia and schizophrenia. He seems to know where he is and why; one can only imagine what excuse his mind has derived for this. He should be regarded as unstable and treated with caution. Not to be allowed near…
Tezuka frowned. Perhaps he had merely mistaken a well-developed imaginary world for true sanity. Somehow, though, he doubted it. There had been something in 3KU5's eyes that chased any thought that he was that far gone from Tezuka's head.
". . . In a patient," Tezuka realized Inui had been talking to him.
"Sorry, what?"
"I said, it's unusual for you to be taking this much interest in a patient," Inui repeated, "Is there something wrong?"
"No. . . Well yes," Tezuka hated being unsure. He sat down heavily in one of the uncomfortable lab chairs and immediately regretted it, "It's just that he doesn't seem to be out of touch, let alone schizophrenic."
"That happens," Inui sat back in his own, more comfortable, chair, "It's sometimes hard to tell the difference between a person you meet on the street and someone in need of psychiatric care."
"But this is different," Tezuka said helplessly, "It's like he knows where he is and why he's there!"
"That is possible," Inui said soothingly, "But he doesn't really know, his world just happened to correspond with where he was really."
"It's not like that!" Inui froze. Tezuka never raised his voice, he rarely showed any emotion whatsoever, but here he was bursting with frustration to the point of yelling over one patient.
"Maybe you should request the patient be taken out of your jurisdiction," Inui said slowly.
"What?" Tezuka's eyes were uncommonly hard as he turned his gaze to face the doctor.
"It's just that I've never seen you so worked up over a patient! You can't let them effect you like that," Inui said slowly.
"You haven't talked to him, Inui," Tezuka was almost pleading, "He's sane. I know it."
"Why is he in here then?" Inui tried to appeal to his colleague's common sense.
"I . . . I don't know," Tezuka shook his head.
Inui frowned. Tezuka was a great doctor. He had graduated top of his class from a prestigious psychological institute and had proved his prowess number times in the field. What could get him so disheveled? Was it even remotely possible that this patient was sane? Inui shook his head, banishing the thoughts. Kirihara was also a well-renowned psychologist and each of the patients in the institution were there because he believed they needed to be. There could be no room for question.
"I don't know what to tell you, Tezuka," Inui said, "He wouldn't be in here if he didn't need to be."
Tezuka just shook his head, "I have rounds to make," he left the lab quickly.
AN: Hahahaha a cliff-hangerish ending. O.o