'Detective,
Your last question was intriguing so I will entertain it.
If I thought of the shape of my life, I wouldn't know where to begin.
I suppose a straight line to indicate my childhood. When my parents were killed, the line would plummet and stagger like a heartbeat.
The line would rise and become steady again when I threw myself into studying but after the arrest of my friend, it would peter off once more.
When Kurogiri came for me – when I met Shigaraki – the line ceased to exist, it flew off the page no longer bound by pen and paper.
I wouldn't say that I was free but somewhere else. A place where I, Reina, no longer existed.
I hate using metaphors but writing out the truth would hurt. I fear that it will be set loose to terrorize the world.
There I go again, sorry.
The best way I can describe it, the best way I can endure it – I should say, would be entering a dream. A sad dream.
I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense. I'll try from the beginning again. Please bear with me.'
My shoes squeaked against the freshly mopped floor.
Night shift had just begun, and I was making my rounds, checking on sleeping patients and monitoring their vitals. Nights at the hospital were always my favorite shifts. At the risk of sounding loony, I always thought they were magical. A hospital never closed, but at night, time lost its' grip on reality. I felt like anything could happen and that excited me.
After I finished my rounds, I nodded to the nurse on call before my pager started beeping. I rushed down to the entrance, my legs pumping hard. I held down my stethoscope to stop it from jangling about.
Splayed out on a stretcher was a young girl who was viciously assaulted. Dark mauve bruises marred her face. The entire front of her cream-colored shirt was splattered with blood. She look to be about my age, mid-twenties. The EMTs wheeled her down the hallway as a nurse strapped an oxygen mask over her mouth. One look at the dark gash across her abdomen and I knew emergency surgery was required.
I ran ahead of them to prepare for the operating room. My legs jittered at the sudden turn of events. I took three deep breaths to calm myself as the nurses prepared the patient in the operating room. I watched through the glass partition as they administered the anesthesia and draped a cloth over her body. After scrubbing down my hands and donning on the proper gear, I entered the sterilized space and began assisting my mentor in cauterizing the damaged blood vessels to stop the excessive bleeding.
Due to the bright operating light, my line of vision solely focused on what was before me. My mentor, a well-mannered seasoned veteran, murmured a set of instructions to me and the assisting nurse as he began to disinfect the spongy cavity.
His deft fingers moved with precision over her open abdomen, stitching and weaving her flesh together. The small wet cavern grew smaller and smaller. In one swift movement, he yanked tightly; sealing the wound and tied the stitch with a knot.
All the while her steady heartbeat beeped undisturbed, the blood pressure stats remained stable.
We handed the patient back to the nurses and they wheeled the young woman away for further monitoring.
"Fairly straight forward procedure," My mentor's voice was muffled from behind his mask. We were back in the prep room discarding our gowns and gloves. "Fortunately, it was a shallow wound. It will heal nicely. I'll leave her in your care. Good work, Mimura." With that my mentor left, leaving me to clean up. As I threw everything away, I began to wonder what happened to her. Who could have done that to her?
My legs jittered, fatigued from prolonged standing. The digitized clock in the waiting room read '4:22am'. Roughly an hour left on my shift before I relieved by the next resident. How the emergency surgery ate up two hours, when the entire procedure felt like fifteen minutes, I'll never know. The mystique of night worked its' magic again.
I was still too jittery for my own liking so I informed the nurse on call I would be stepping out for a few minutes. Nobody walked down the halls, only the chiming of the various machines reminded me that we had patients. When I reached the outside of the hospital, I stretched my arms up and beat my fists against the side of my thighs to stimulate blood flow.
A blue moon was out casting a dreamy light over the city. I stared for a bit, inhaling the crisp air.
My friend Reiji came to mind and how he would probably never seen the moon again. I pictured his body asleep in a prison cell, curled up on his side like always. On my last visit, he informed me of his upcoming transfer to the facility where he would serve out his sentence.
His false imprisonment defense fell through since the evidence was stacked against him. In not taking the guilty plea, he was given the maximum conviction of twenty-five years for premeditated murder. Even if it was a case of 'in the wrong place at the wrong place' the deceased came from a powerful political family that needed a scapegoat. Reiji's fate was sealed the moment he pulled out that switchblade to defend himself.
I sighed. There was no use in lamenting.
The reality was that Reiji, my childhood friend, was wrongly convicted for a crime he didn't do. Even though he set spiders trapped in the house free, the judge found him guilty of killing a man who had been mugged and left to die in a back alley. The real murderer ran off leaving Reiji behind as the prime suspect. He had only been trying to help but because he foolishly tampered with the crime scene, no one saw it that way. Reiji had always been a blundering idiot, too honest for his own good, the prosecutor saw that and took advantage of him.
All I could do now was visit him regularly. Reiji had to be reminded of a world outside of jail. I needed to act as his last tether to reality. The last thing I told him was to treat imprisonment like a bad dream he would wake up from and when he did, I would be there to say good morning.
Another sigh escaped my lips.
I began to gather my thoughts before gazing out, letting my eyes wander over the pretty rose bushes by the entrance gate. It was then I noticed two tiny yellow pinpricks. Not so much pinpricks actually, when I sustained eye contact, they lit up into twin flames.
I couldn't begin to comprehend what I was looking at. Someone smoking cigarettes – two cigarettes? Had the bushes caught fire? My curiosity compelled me to look closer. A coldness came over me as I reached the gate, the yellow flames burst in a blaze. A chill seeped into my bones causing a dull ache. Black haze obscured my vision and I fell into nothing.
When I came to my surroundings had changed drastically. I found myself in a dimly lit room with a single table placed squarely in the middle. I raised myself on shaky legs to see a young man writhing and groaning in pain. His clothes were dyed crimson, I knew immediately he had been shot by glancing at the unique bloodstain pattern.
"He needs medical attention." A low voice sounded from the corner in the room. It was the same yellow flickering flames watching me again. Beside the bed stood an IV pole and a small tray of surgical utensils. The young man gave a strangled cry, blood gurgling in his throat. My mind switched into autopilot mode as I administered the drip and began snipping away his clothes. His spindly body was littered with bullet holes much to my dismay.
I could tell by his blue lips that he had lost too much blood. I had to work quickly. Taking a quick survey at his wounds, I gave an inward sigh of relief to find they were all clean exit shots meaning I didn't have to dig around to find any bullet pieces.
My hands began to work nimbly over each shallow wound, and I fell into a rhythm of disinfecting and stitching. When I tugged on the final stitch to seal the wound, I adjusted the drip. I let my tools clatter on the tray as I braced my body against the table. Now that the adrenaline wore off, all the energy in me drained away. I held myself up as my legs began to buckle.
"Come," An arm ghosted at my side and led me away. I leaned against the wall of a new smaller room as the black haze returned with the young man. He set him down on a bed in the corner of the room and turned to me, the yellow flames danced. "I will return in the morning." The hazy figure closed and locked the door with a swift click.
"No, no-" My voice came out hoarsely as I feebly hit my fist against the door. I slumped down and butted my head against the hard wood; one, twice, a third time, but heard nothing. My body was screaming for rest but I couldn't let myself fall asleep and risk having my quirk activate.
I tried steadying my breathing. Regardless if my quirk activates, I had to remind myself of my capabilities. In dreams, I was the one who had all the power.
"I'm in control," I whispered to myself. I repeated this mantra a few more times before the young man groaned in his sleep, "Mother." His voice, although strained, sounded sad. He called out to his mother again. 'Control, control, control.' I felt myself slip away as sleep overcame me.
When I woke, I beheld the hellscape before me in horror. My mouth was agape at the sheer utter destruction of a modern looking city. Mangled piles of bodies, women and children, were strewn about in bloody tangles. Destroyed buildings had collapsed one on top of the other. Everywhere I turned was chaos.
In the middle of it all stood a young child. His gleeful laughter pervaded all my senses.
'Control, control, control." I held onto my mantra and steeled my nerves. I donned my disguise and slinked down the heaps of rubble. As I approached the child I realized it was the young man I saved, his white hair and pale skin gave it away were an identical match. The child paid me no mind as he continued on with his maniacal laughter. It was only when I rubbed my body against his leg did he stop to regard me.
"Kitty! Do you see what I see little kitty?" I purred in response trying to elicit an explanation. Big hollow eyes threatened to swallow me whole. "I can show you an even greater darkness." He held out his hand with a wide manic smile, beckoning me to fall into further madness.
I licked his outstretched fingers and began to impose my will on his sadistic dream.
I spoke to his mind, "I will bathe you, dress your wounds and make you anew. Come," His image shattered as the scenes of carnage dissipated. I replaced them with a calmer environment, one befitting for a child. We were enveloped in a soft light, the sound of ocean waves crashed faintly in the distance.
This type dream had always been my trump card. Whenever I was left with no inkling on how to proceed with dream therapy, this particular dream proved effective – especially if the patient projected themselves as a child.
Now as myself, I lowered his small body into a tub of white marble, full of warm milk, and began to hum a soothing melody.
"Look straight ahead and be still," I whispered into his ear before massaging the milk into his scalp. With each ministration I noticed the white in his hair change to pitch black. "Why can't I see you kitty?" Sadness tinged his voice.
I could not allow him to see me. Seeing as we did not know each other, if he saw a stranger in his dream bathing him, he could plummet into a state of shock. After witnessing his initial dream, there was no telling what could happen.
"I want you to see yourself first, how I see you." I continuously poured the warm milk over his body, massaging it into his skin, in hopes that it would cleanse the darkness from his mind. When I reached into the tub something grabbed a hold of me. I lifted my arm to find a disembodied hand latched in a death grip. I gave out a strangulated cry as another enclosed around my neck, squeezing out all the air from my lungs, "Get out of my head, get out of my head!" The child flew into a rage forcing me out of his conscious.
My eyes shot open in shock as my body convulsed from the lack of oxygen. I coughed a few times still feeling the coarse fingers around my neck. For a moment I was in complete control but he tapped into a power greater than mine and threw me out of our collective dream.
From the small window above his bed, light seeped in through the closed blinds.
It was morning, I had survived the night.
A groan sounded from his pale lips signaling that he was awake. I watched as he drew himself up but winced back in pain. He rested on his forearms and saw me for the first time. His mouth curled in a smile.
"And who might you be?" His raspy voice sent a chill down my spine.
As hard as I tried, words failed to form in my throat. I was scared speechless by him. The pressure he exuded made me feel I was in immediate grave danger. "Speak or die." He raised a hand in my direction, readying an attack. Spurred on by panic I cried out my name. He paused but sneered with his hand still raised.
"Reina? Reina what?"
I knew if I failed to answer he would not hesitate to attack so my response came out as a half question, "Reina the doctor?" He cocked his head to side as if trying to place something, I felt he was actually looking at me now, examining me from head to toe with his cold eyes.
"That voice… I know that voice," My blood turned to ice as his mouth widened into a hollow smile. "It was you wasn't it? You were the one in my dream," Thoughts were racing in my head trying to find a way to save my skin.
"You were having a nightmare and I-I was trying to help – " He snickered at me just like in the dream. That awful laugh signaled my end. "That wasn't a nightmare, that was my ideal world. One where everyone is dead and I'm the last one to see it all." Just the mere mention of his dream brought a twisted look of delight to his face.
The tight bundle of nerves forming in the pit of my stomach gave way. I realized that whatever this predicament I found myself was, there was no going back. I would either be killed by this crazed man or worse. He seemed like the type to entertain himself with fates worse than death.
"Hey," He rested his back against the wall and looked down at me smugly, "You're just like Doctor Sleep, huh? Ever read that book? Used to be my favorite as a kid." He overturned his hand and studied it for a moment before aiming it in my direction. "Well, nice knowing you Doctor Slee – "
"Shigaraki Tomura." The hazy black figure emerged between us in a swirling vortex. "If you kill this doctor like the others I will have to retrieve another. I'd rather not do that. She will prove a valuable asset to us."
"You lie Kurogiri. Let me kill the girl, I hate that pesky quirk of hers. You could at least have gotten someone with a better quirk. You're useless."
"I would advise against that."
The young man, Shigaraki it seems, clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Get her away from me. I don't want to see her again." Kurogiri gave a stiff bow and enveloped me in his haze.
Left alone, he fingered his chafed neck and studied his palm in thought. Shigaraki could still feel the warmth of the milk on his body.
Title End Card: Blue Moon by Bobby Vinton