(YM)

The odor was downright disgusting. Smelled... indescribable. The closest would be like burning hair and oil. A light buzzing filled the room. I hardly registered these details as I carefully concentrated on the procedure. Nothing can disrupt me when I'm in my element. My cautery pen made all the correct marks with caution and ease to stop his bleeding. Even during an experimental surgery, nerve-racking as it may be, nothing else weighed on my mind. I only centered on the subject as a 'real neurologist' prepared to hand me tools and overlook my work.

His head cut open and poked at while he was under. Sometimes these conditions caused me to forget I'm operating on a real human being. This time, it was someone I've been talking to daily. In that instant, I didn't think of that. A dissonance with the gore, a coping mechanism, as childish as it is. Soon, the cauterizing ended and the rest began. Before I could request for any of our cerebrospinal fluids during the more difficult part, there was a surprise twitch in his shoulders. Oh, what a delightful reminder of his livelihood. A typical reaction during brain surgery. Only thing to do is pretend it didn't happen.

Then Hinata's hands moved to his head. Barely missed his exposed brain and touched at the cut, fluids covered his fingers. A quick elevation in breathing and heart rate. Now, that was far from typical. How did this happen? The anesthesiologist / other neurologist, Dr. Shikinami, put his hands down back to his sides. She switched on a shocked expression upon meeting his wide-eyed horror. His hands tremble while he emits panicked, shaky breaths, on the brink of a scream or tears. No. This shouldn't be happening! How the hell did he wake up?

"Please stop! For the love of God, please stop!" Hinata sounded absolutely terrified and confused. Body trembling with eyes forcing themselves shut. Straps holding his head in place were the only reason nothing fell out while he shivered. "Please!! I wanna go home...!" The breathlessness eeps into each word. Pleading in a half awake state with such contradictions to what he said before. Perhaps he deceived himself to lessen the pain. It must be. That voice couldn't have been fabricated. "Up the anesthesia."

I ordered Dr. Shikinami around like she couldn't figure that out herself. The panic rendered both of us useless for a second. She does what she's trained to do - upping the dosage while he continued to beg. "Let me go! I won't say anything, just please let me go home!!" I would've said something to ease him, but he knocked back out within seconds. Breath still shallow and tears falling after it hits. The pleas echoed in my ears as I struggled to compose myself. I felt paralyzed, unable to do anything besides breathe heavily. This wasn't how it really went, was it?

"Continue, Matsuda, you can't leave him like that. Then all his pain would be for nothing."

"Why did he wake up?"

"You can't stop now. It's too far into it. He'll get brain damage."

"Don't forget we're paying you so don't walk out because of some medical error!"

"Keep going. Don't stop because the boy got emotional."

"Matsuda, it's okay! Freaky things like this happen. You can do this. You have to be prepared if you're going to become a real doctor like me."

"You're truly evil for doing something like this. At least you didn't know him long."

"Hinata didn't deserve this."

"You're causing so much suffering and for what? Money? Science? Experience? You deserve everything you go through."

Muddied overlapping voices eventually blended together. Picking out the individual statements led to a fuzziness. The old men and my fellow doctor to my inner consciousness yelled at me until they bled into the sound of an alarm.

-

Sweat coated skin attracted the sheets. Panicked, heavy breaths just like back then. A pounding where my heart was. Ugh, another glorious morning ritual of silencing the screeching banshee that is the damn alarm while processing the repeating nightmare. 2 weeks later and it played just as vividly. I can at least say in reality that I was able to tell those pieces of shit they were going to hell for this, even though they were right about being too far into the surgery to stop without further damage.

Cold water to the face washed away the sweat and anxiety from those memories for the time being. It never gets easier, but it's a task I could deal with when morning rolled around. I would distract myself as the day got started. That was the easiest solution. Hinata would be blessed by my pressence and food soon enough anyway. However, cold water didn't wash away my sleep deprivation. Oh, going out for a midnight walk was such a great idea for my sleep schedule.

Dragging myself to the kitchen by the observation room, I was cursed with the delightful duty of fetching breakfast and a helping of pills for their ever-so-appreciative little project. Breakfast cooked by a general doctor selected for his nutritional expertise. The schedule around here made the perfect opening last night and it was all his fault. Here's the deal: I'm on duty from 6 am to 8:30 am, unless there's some thrilling surgery happening. Then, two of the Steering Committee heroes swoop in at 7 am and clock out at 3 pm, taking turns playing watchdog from the observation room and personal assistant with Hinata. Guess the other two do whatever their actual job was. The rest of us mere mortals stick around to fulfill our vague job descriptions. Dr. Iwakura reigns from 3 pm to 10 pm, while Dr. Tsukino gets the night shift from 10 pm to 6 am.

And let's not forget about Dr. Tsukino's innovative strategy of catching up on sleep in the cozy warmth of the kitchen during those late-night shifts. With a set up like that, it's a wonder we didn't sneak out before. Better late than never. We had the chance before he gets caught. Fetching some tea for my own breakfast and a tray of the only thing Dr. Tsukino was good for, I headed over to the room of our highness. Anyway, I could already imagine the kind of mischief Hinata would be up to today to ease himself. Pestering. Banter. Personal questions. Talking about yesterday. We could always go back to that *lovely* complaining. Knowing that loser, he'll say the walk last night wasn't enough. Better not make many more risks like that if he wouldn't be appreciative.

Hinata, looking as if he didn't just crawl out of bed for once, greeted me as soon as I opened the door. "Good morning." I sat the tray down in the usual place. "Morning." Instantly, he beamed up at me from his hospital bed, showing an easygoing smile I hadn't seen from him before. "Thanks for last night, Matsuda. That's the most fun I've had since being here!" A little laugh at the end of his statement. Heh. "No problem. Just don't expect it all the time." He started at his breakfast by the time I started replying. After a drink of water, he gave a "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Shut up and take my thanks." His appreciation managed to shine through, despite everything. Funny how that banter from the walk somehow brought us closer, in a strange sort of way.

Wow, a tiny bit of risk and suddenly the boredom disappears. He was definitely easier to please than her. Most mornings, he grumbled about being stuck here or feeling bored at least once. Now, he was nothing but grateful. How refreshing to see him feeling something positive. The best he's felt since he got here, to him, meant since that bastardized surgery... I kept reminding myself of that. How incomplete it was that he couldn't remember all the conversations from before, as short lived as it was. Thank god he couldn't remember any of the lobotomies. Especially when he woke up. Tch. It won't be long before they want another surgery, I could feel it.

Another surgery to correct a failed talent. I told them I could only focus on a specific part of the brain at a time, otherwise it couldn't heal properly which would make all their efforts meaningless. Artistic talents were given to him this time. The last surgery was all about wiping out his memory completely. Who knows what they'll do next time? As absurd as it sounds, I dread the day they ask me to tamper with his frontal lobe. It would strip away his personality and turn him into a hollow shell. It's just a matter of time. That's what they want – someone devoid of personality so they can mold him into whatever they please. His realism, humor, perspectives, beliefs – none of it matters to those old bastards. To them, he's not even human yet. Even when they changed his name to Kamukura Izuru, it didn't change a thing. To me, he'll always be Hinata Hajime. Those red eyes and long hair mean nothing compared to that. He'll forever be Hinata Hajime in my eyes.

I couldn't think about that. I didn't want to. I wanted to focus on the hopefully long-lived positivity right in front of me. "Alright, dumbass. Remember not to start complaining about being tired." I jabbed at him before drinking my tea. He smirked at that. "Yeah, I remember. Don't have to remind me." Well, I just couldn't stop myself from matching his grin, like his mood was a contagious disease. I understood that he had plenty of reasons to complain. Most of which he didn't know the full scope of. Sometimes, when he complains about being bored, I wonder if it's a blessing. Being bored or restless would be a better outcome than pain. I know others who would debate otherwise. I could only hope he wasn't like that.

The conversation with him went by too quickly. It always did. Time flies when you're spending it with someone tolerably likable. Two of the insufferable Steering Committee pests would soon come in to spoil the mood. Ugh. I quickly cleared the plates and stashed them in the kitchen before returning, knowing there'd be little time left for our conversation. Predictably, both of today's bastards barged in right after me. Whenever those old geezers decide to grace us with their presence, time seems to slow to a halt. I endured another agonizing hour, during which the chubby one decided to test another talent: photography. And, as expected, Hinata displayed an artificial talent for it, as if his depressing surroundings were some sort of inspiration.

As I went to the observation room, I stopped when I saw the bearded one with an ice pack to the left of his face. "You look ridiculous." I never hesitated in speaking my mind to these heartless geezers. I had no consequence on seemingly anything. As long as I perform my job duties and not tell 'Kamukura' too much information, I wasn't going anywhere. "You'd look like this too if some psycho bitch hit you!" He shot me a glare, still clutching the ice pack. Oh, how scary. I've always known this one had a stick up his ass, but he usually kept up his professionism. Rough morning, it seems.

"Your wife?" He shook his head, wearing an expression of embarrassment and frustration and continued while pointing at Hinata through the glass. "His mother. She believes she can waltz into Kirigiri's office and talk to us like she owns the place!" Not an answer I expected. Far from it. "What was she doing here?" To my question, the geezer stayed silent. "Oh, now you plan to keep ME in the dark, huh? Must be a fun game for you, but some of us actually have work to do. So, how about cutting the secrecy act and clueing me in." He glared at me again. This time with an emasculated shame. "Fine. Keep quiet, got it?" I rolled my eyes at that. Obviously, I knew better than to blabber about any of this. I motioned for him to continue.

"You're aware we couldn't take Kamukura without diverting the attention of the police. The day we started operating, we staged a suicide off a bridge. Those incompetent cops needed a nudge to start figuring it out. Then, his mom showed up, all upset about her boy and talking about suing us for expelling him. Can you believe it?"

"Uh, yeah. I can. Getting hit by her is better than jail time. Suck it up, buttercup."

"A lawsuit could put an end to the entire project!"

"Quit whining. It won't go anywhere based off what she knows."

I had no sympathy for any of these precious committee members. It's surprising she didn't do worse if she really thought he committed suicide after being expelled. We would all be gutted if she knew the truth. "You heard what I had to say, Matsuda." What a cowardly way to tell me to leave. They act all tough until you grow some balls. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going. Don't whine too much about being beat by a woman." I left before he could say anything. Not that he would say anything that mattered.

A staged suicide, huh? I thought about what the outside world believed happened to Hinata. I figured they concocted some story. The police aren't anywhere near smart enough to come close to the reality of his situation. Ugh, I didn't want to think about this shit. It only makes things worse. I wanted to go back in there and catch Hinata's contagious mood again.