Chapter Three: Obligatory Shower Scene
It was dark.
Thump...thump...
She couldn't see beyond the darkness enveloping her mind, acting less as a protective layer and more like a blindfold. Wide eyes or not, Ayumi never understood what a clear view was, unable to truly see past the barriers her quirk put in front of her.
The shower curtain that materialized in front of her was just another barrier.
Yeah...my quirk is the issue...
Ayumi's head didn't spin like it normally did, allowing her time to focus and breathe. With a shaky arm, she reached out, pulling it open and stepping into the tub she was faced with. Although she wasn't sure what was going on, Ayumi felt a twinge in the back of her mind, pulling her subconsciously. One bruised leg in front of the other, she stepped into the tub and closed the curtain. She stood in a defensive stance, hands protectively covering her bare breasts and legs pulled tightly together, fearful of what possibly existed within the darkness. All Ayumi could see was the pristine tub and the sickly greenish color of her skin, neither of which brought her any form of comfort in the presence of the dismal darkness.
Then, the cuts began.
One across the span of her shoulder, one severing her ankle deep enough to see bone, one diagonally slicing over her mouth.
More and more and more gashes began to litter Ayumi's already bruised skin. Her lips quivered as she desperately forced herself not to scream out, reminding herself that physical pain was only skin deep. Red littered over top of green; being complementary colors, they couldn't help but create a tragic image of harmony across Ayumi's body. It hurt to tremble, and it hurt even more to see her thinned blood poor out into the tub. The blood crawled over to the drain, which devoured her life force eagerly. More! the tub demanded, More!
The bleeding wouldn't stop, forcing Ayumi to look for a solution. Tearing her eyes away from her cut up hands, she frantically searched for a rag, bandages, water - something! - anything to stop her pain. Although the gashes stung, the pain was familiar to Ayumi, as this was the equivalent of the pain she carried with her everyday. That still didn't stop her from hyperventilating, though.
Breathe! AYUMI, BREATH! Ayumi let out a gut wrenching scream in response to her thoughts, desperately clinging on to hope that something could stop this trauma.
From the darkness, a man emerged. She couldn't see him, but Ayumi damn well knew who it was. Peeling her eyes open and gasping for breath, Ayumi hoped against all odds he didn't see her, that he would look past the solitary tub in the middle of the darkness. She couldn't let him see her like this, so weak and vulnerable. Ayumi refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
Besides the occasional slice upon her skin, Ayumi could only hear his heavy footsteps as they slowly became closer and closer. The sound wasn't a mere echo after a few seconds, Ayumi now able to hear them directly on the other side of the curtain. Her heart raced, Ayumi resorting to moving as far away from the curtain the tub would allow. She clung to the edge pitifully, unwilling to confront the man on the other side of the curtain.
She didn't have to make the decision to openly confront him, however, the man pulling the curtain open all on his own.
Jin...
He was still blonde, and still had the same scar splitting his forehead in half. Dark rings circled his dark eyes that he gazed at her with, a frown playing at his lips. Shaking his head, Jin turned, putting a mask on of gray and black, and proceeded to pull a shower head out of the darkness above Ayumi. Tears threatened to fall at the sight of this, Ayumi unable to express her thanks to the man who saved her time and time again. She wanted to speak, to show him how much she cared for him - to get him to stay. But once again, Jin walked off, not sparing Ayumi another glance.
And there Ayumi began to cry. She grabbed the shower curtain, her knuckles turning white underneath her skin's red and green melody, as she sunk to her knees. While she unleashed her waterworks, the spout Jin brought her did as well, showering her in cool liquid from the depths of nowhere. The tub filled up and was overflowing, yet Ayumi still sat at the bottom of it, now submerged. Her tears couldn't be distinguished from the water pouring down on her, but Ayumi knew she was still crying.
His last words to her replayed on a loop as endless as the water washing over her in that moment: "I've always had one foot out the door."
—
"She's a walking overdose. It must be awful for the poor kid..."
Jolting awake, Ayumi shot up and grabbed the hand placed on her forehead. The sudden movement on her part caused small pricks of pain to explode in her arms, the various needles and tubes under her skin unappreciative of the _. Groaning, she slumped back down, her greenish arm retreating back to her side. Huh, color...
It was then Ayumi found herself calm enough to take in her surroundings: white walls, bright lights, and two people staring intently at her, one of which being a short elderly lady (who the hand belonged to), eyes covered by a visor, and Tsukauchi, the detective she vaguely remembered from the police station. His gaze held a look not of concern, but curiosity, as if Ayumi were a subject to be tested. Ayumi scowled at him, irritated; she hated that look, the look where people forgot you were human and only saw your potential. She had been on the receiving end of such a look on multiple occasions, and she was able to escape it each time it had happened before. The brunette was determined not to break that streak now.
Licking her lips, Ayumi sat back up once again, determined to hide any vulnerability the pair saw in her. No matter how irrational the idea was, she new in order to control the conversation, one had to believe they were in control first. Narrowing her tired eyes, Ayumi demanded, "Where am I?"
Tsukauchi mirrored her actions, narrowing his own eyes in response. It was the old lady, however, who responded: "Sweetheart, you're in Hosu General Hospital. You passed out as a result of your struggle against the quirk suppressant cuffs the detective had you in. Because of the rare circumstances, you had to be transferred here to me on short notice. My name is Recovery Girl, the medical hero." Recovery Girl watched the girl's movements intently while she spoke, careful to note any changes in demeanor or mood when speaking. So far, the mystery girl remained as stoic as Tsukauchi reported she was, not helping the medical process along at all. The elderly woman did catch, however, the unease in her eyes whenever she snuck a glance at the detective. Grabbing her clipboard, Recovery Girl moved over to Tsukauchi, who stood at the foot of the girl's bed, reprimanding, "Naomasa! Give us some time alone without your little intimidation tactics scaring the girl half to death!" Looking surprised, Tsukauchi (who's first name Ayumi gathered to be "Naomasa") quickly exited the private room, muttering a small apology on the way out.
Recovery Girl softly shut the door behind him, which Ayumi surprisingly found reassuring. Snap out of it. She's still one of them, regardless of how kind she seems.
"Okay dear, as much as I'd like to help you and give you the best medical care I can, I really can't unless I have some sort of grasp of your quirk and medical history," Recovery Girl softly spoke, grabbing a pencil and sitting beside Ayumi's bed. Sensing the girl's fear and distrust, the woman continued, "So how about we start with your name."
Hesitating, Ayumi whispered, "Bubaigawara."
"Bubaigawara...?"
"Bubaigawara Ayumi," the brunette firmly spoke, deciding to exude confidence as a defense mechanism against the old lady's kindness. She would not fall for any deceptions, as it was one thing to be caught and another to be trapped.
Recovery Girl smiled, quickly scribbling a few notes down on the clipboard. Without looking up, she continued calmly, "So, Ayumi? Or do you prefer Bubaigawara?"
"Ayumi." The girl's chest tightened at the thought of using the last link remaining between her and her absent brother. Wherever he was at that moment, Ayumi hoped he thought of her too when introducing himself under the name they shared.
"Okay then, Ayumi it is. Now dear, I've run blood tests on you and come up with a full blood work analysis from the lab while you were unconscious. I also ran the standard tests we give to any John or Jane Does who make their way into my care that aren't medically invasive. Because we didn't know your medical history, I could not fully heal your more severe injuries, such as the extensive lung and intestinal damage you have. However, the bloodwork we ran did give me a loose idea on your quirk." Recovery Girl looked up from her paperwork and directly into Ayumi's eyes. Ayumi still found it odd to be seeing in color; she only got to see in color when she wasn't maxed out. She was unable to remember the last time she hadn't kept her levels as high as physically possible, troubling her slightly.
It doesn't matter.
Recovery Girl could feel the discomfort radiating off of the girl, asking, "Would you like to explain to me how your quirk works, or should I explain my ideas?" She threw a warm smile in, attempting to soften the girl enough to get the information she needed.
Ayumi glanced at the elderly woman wearily, finally conceding. "My quirk is a simple concept, but its repercussions are the more complex aspect. I dubbed it 'Stimulate/Depress'. By touching any living organism, I can amplify specific stimulant or depressant concentrations...within their blood. I can also use...my own blood...as a drug...to pass to others because I have abnormally high levels of...almost every drug in existence. These levels put me in danger, though, so..." Ayumi visibly hesitated, "I'm constantly intoxicated because I can't stop the effects of the drugs in my system." Ayumi stopped there, not wanting to delve deeper into her struggles to stay mentally available; that was more of a personal problem.
Recovery Girl frantically scribbled onto her paperwork, no doubt starting a new medical file for Ayumi (to her displeasure). Nodding, Recovery Girl explained, "Alright, so that explains why your bloodwork came out the way it did. We have you on a couple of stabilizers now, which should explain any changes is sensory function you feel. Well, that will excuse you from at least a couple of charges, sweetie." Ayumi didn't respond, knowing that her troubles were still far from over. She knew she wasn't going to be able to continue to live the way she was after this, but she wondered if ultimately it would be for the better.
Recovery Girl stood up and walked over to her computer, typing away. She glanced at the brunette, filling out notes on the mystery girl. Quirk: amplification - side note: not too comfortable talking about it, recommend seeing psychologist...
Ayumi kept staring forward, no twitch or flinch in her gaze at all. Recovery Girl took note hurriedly, wanting to treat the girl as quickly as possible. Rather aloof and no mention of family...look into later...
Ayumi took a deep breath, working up mental courage before declaring, "I'm good to go. You don't need to do surgery or whatever you had planned. It's a waste of resources and I'd rather just be transferred back into police custody." Believing she had Recovery Girl beat, Ayumi began to remove the needles protruding from her arms, all kinds of machines going haywire when recognizing this new development. She moved to sit up, but was unexpectedly held down by Recovery Girl, a stern look sent her way. The graying lady sighed softly a second later, however, proceeding to reinsert the cast aside needles. She then plodded over to the door with her clipboard in hand, not looking back at the bruised girl who seemed to hold the weight of the world in her eyes.
As the door shut and Ayumi was left in isolation once again, she began to doze off, mulling over the medical hero's actions. She itched the raw skin around the needles, agitating the area and feeling associated with such once more. Recovery Girl's ambiguous message haunted Ayumi as she drifted off - likely into another sleep full of turbulence and trauma:
We've got you now.
