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Somewhere in the summer garden	By : rafusen Category: +. to F > Fushigi Yuugi Views: 2586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fushigi Yuugi, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-Now hold on just one stinking minute no da!!!
- 5-4
- 6-5
- 7-8
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: I don�t own Fushigi Yuugi. *cries dramatically*

Warning: Hi there! This chapter contains language, some mature content, and violence. You have been warned previously, so if you wanna turn around, you sure can�Also, you-know-who shows up. Yup.

Chiri: *grin grin*

Who said it was you?

Chiri: *temper tantrum*

Onward!!! And don� forget to review, it�s what keeps us fan girls at bay.

Just as I assumed would happen, the Headmaster reprimanded me privately for being on close terms, even for a brief time, with the patients. It came with the ending of the second week, after I had been assigned my own case studies formally, he had beckoned for me to enter his darkening office.

- I understand you�re a little anxious, but we certainly don�t condone that kind of behavior here. His eyes, narrow and thoughtful, look beyond me, reflecting the shadows dancing along the polished wood walls, frozen blue flecked with white.

- I am sorry, Nakago-san. I won�t disobey further. It just seemed to me--

- Hmmm? Nothing is as it seems here. You should at least know this much by now.

- I am sorry. Bowing low, I feel his powerful and pressing gaze upon me, burning into me. Glancing up for dismissal, he nods, appearing disquieted, waving his hand in that nonchalantly disturbing manner. He says nothing, simply stares blankly at his desk, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

- Mitsukake, he starts, words smoothly running out of his mouth, Perhaps I do understand. Perhaps that is why I am so hard with them. It is difficult, making eye contact, It is difficult to be totally indifferent. I do not ask this. Just�be more discreet from now on. Soi made it sound as if you were actually conversing with the patient avidly.

- I was only trying to ease her pain�and�

- There is really no need to explain yourself�waving again, and now, a vague smile creasing his expression, You may go.

- Thank you. Bowing again, I quickly emerge from the room, sweat beading my forehead lightly, though the ward is indeed quite cool. That man�he�something about him, his movements, visage, his�presence, it undoes me mentally. I feel as if I am in fact deteriorating afore him, falling apart, my hard won countenance of solidity shattered.

Clutching my patient study folders tightly to my chest, I make my way down the sun drenched hallways, taking little note of the commotion that seems to be taking place, crowds gathering rather violently in the 1A corridor. I suppose I should see what is going on; instead, I find the back exit, and walk through the courtyard to my apartments. Right now, I need�a breath of fresh air�.not defiled with strange and illusive odors, resembling death and decline. The sun is so warm upon the bare flesh of my arms, lovingly caressing me, almost feeling like that far distant thing called human warmth�.Memories stir up in the vacuous place of my heart, and, drawing in a shuddering inhalation, I retain myself and enter into my apartments without further ado. I must appear somewhat peculiar myself, although here, I deduce, it would be sorely considered.

Seated on my futon, I spread before me the files I will now be �in charge� of-- that is, I�ll be tending to these particular patients and their many needs. Not as a nurse would, mind you; I certainly am not qualified to dole out medication or help an invalid to cleanse them self. However, my duties will entail careful study and recording of patient behavior, counseling as and when necessary, and generalities. Etcetera, etcetera, on and on�.and on top of all this, studying for my exams, remembering roll-call and lights out, as well as all the little things one must do to continue existing, such as bathing, eating, sleeping�

Closing my eyes, I hear, somewhere in the distance, the mournful song of a cuckoo. How strange, in broad daylight, my thoughts run�..

- Yo! Tamahome peeks his head in through the sliding door which separates our chambers. His smiling visage is a relief to me, and I invite him in.

Actually, it has occurred to me that since I�ve been here, Tamahome has been sleeping in my bed with me each night, rather uninvited, and yet I suppose I shall not toss him out; I�m not exactly sure why he does it, and yet it could not be anything carnal, as I would�ve come to know that sort of thing�.well, I�m a light sleeper.

I guess it would be safe to say it�s because he is fearful, although I know not of what or why. Perhaps it is the environment, or perhaps�it is something quite else. No matter, the company is gratifying and softens the undeterminable loneliness etched on the innards of my heart and mind.

He leaps onto my futon, shaking the folders loose of their contents.

- Oops!! Sorry, Mits!! He shuffles them back in order, causing further disarray. Confused, and possibly irritated at his own clumsiness, he sits back, staring at me in a hapless fashion.

- These are my case study files, I explain somewhat drolly.

- Oh!! Grabbing one excitedly, he observes the contents; and then, aware he�s violating policies, hands it back begrudgingly. So, who do you work on, eh?

- I haven�t really taken the time to glance through them as of yet.

A heavy pause, and then:

- I heard Soi was trying to get you nailed.

- Mmm?

- Heard the Headmaster had a word or two with you?

- Nothing really. Just reminding me to treat the patients accordingly.

- What, you mean like drooling, fomenting animals? He chortles, an unhappy little sound.

- �I suppose. Still, I can�t help but feel�

- We�re human, after all. Seeing Nuriko like that gets me, too. He pushes the sleeves of his work tunic up, wiping his brow instinctively of the sweat glistening on his face. It�s so fucking hot!!

- It is. The ward feels like an igloo, though.

- Oh, yeah? Too bad my shift is over�.looking out the window, he suddenly points to the tree branches extending over the roof. Huh. A nest.

- Anything in it? I strain to see, leaning my face close to his.

- Nope. Looks like some old eggshells, though. He smiles at me cheerfully, patting my shoulder. I�ll get it down later and show the boys.

- Isn�t that--?

- Yup. But if you�re sly enough-- he winks-- Nakago-san won�t catch everything. Mostly you gotta watch out for the ogress. Sitting back against the body pillow strewn carelessly on the edge of the bed, he picks at his thumbnail absently. I have the sudden urge to sketch him; I brought a few charcoals with me, and a notepad, but to my dismay I can�t recall where it was I put them�

- You hungry?

- �Not really.

- I know. It�s too hot. Too hot to eat, too hot to live�.nnngggggg�..He rolls off of the futon onto the floor dramatically, where he stays, unmoving except for the gentle rising of his chest, and the fluttering of his eyelashes. I watch him fall into a light nap, his eyes roving about underneath the lids at some undeterminable dream�

Looking over the files at last, fanning myself with the loose introductory slip, I gaze at the information spilling out in black ink over the graceless whiteness,

Patient Name: Shido Nuriko

Number: 17B

Diagnoses: Severe Bi-Polar Disorder, Grade Three Depression, Anxiety Disorder

Notes: Subject has severe bouts of depression. Can catch at onset if medicated. Three counts of attempted suicide. First time with kitchen knife; other two included various pain relievers. Has sexual orientation problems. Believes self to be female, though is in fact male.
--shocked, I thought he was a woman too. Hmmm.
May conclude subject has some mild type of personality disorder. Unable to identify; further action needed. Father and mother refuse communication. Severe chemical imbalance believed to cause bi-polar and depression.
These notes seem strangely scattered, almost�careless. I wonder if perhaps the Headmaster expects me to elaborate on them�yes, this must be the case�
Patient Name: Fujiwara Hotohori

Number: 1003A

Diagnoses: Manic- Depressive, Grade Three Depression, Mild OCD

Notes: Subject regresses into self frequently. Not given to talking or interacting. Suspect mild autism? But too little evidence. Attempted suicide on fifteen counts. All with various medications, including and not limited to pain relievers, narcotics, sleeping medications, etc. Will not openly express self or feelings to others. Sometimes given to high levels of anxiety, although not often enough to be considered serious. Severe bouts of depression frequent.
-- Well, he doesn�t really seem dangerous to me at all, although from these sparse notes, one would wonder. I flip past this particular gentleman�s only to stop, suddenly, drawing in a quick breath, at what was to come next:
Patient Name: Ivannovna Tasuki

Number: 856B

Diagnoses: Manic- Depressive, Mild Schizophrenia, Sociopath, Severe OCD, Grade 3 Depression, Anxiety Disorder

Notes: Subject must be supervised at all times. Subject shows open hostility and commits acts of violence. Has been repressed by extreme measures several times. Is subject to violent mood swings, severe depression, severe anxiety. Attempted suicide on 38 counts, all with weapons. One count of hanging self.

Sometimes seems disjointed from reality; rarely has comatose seizures but still relevant. Occasional blatant displays of sexuality; related to sociopath behaviors, perhaps schizophrenia? Extremely volatile, towards self and others. OCD includes lack of cleanliness (schizophrenia related?), scratching at self continuously, pulling out hair, inflicting wounds on self in general. Has no outside contacts and must not be allowed in courtyard at an cost.
The young man I encountered two weeks ago Tuesday certainly did not fit this description: I remember his honey- colored eyes glittering vivaciously�.his soft, sweet expressions, and his genial outlook on the whole, the way his shoulder brushed against me teasingly�

But an unfortunate incident taking place three days prior perhaps readied me for shock. I was in the sectioned off office in the Main Hall, filing ( damn that woman and her insatiable laziness!! ) when the skirmish took place. All seemed peaceful enough ( nothing is at seems) when he came waltzing in, a medicated grin plastered on his face in a skewed sense. I recognized him, indeed; but he didn�t seem to be the same as before-- the blaze of life in this wide eyes seemed to have been extinguished, his skin seemed a sickly pallor�I shook my head, going back to my immediate though worthless project.

He leaned against the window, his face contorted in a chillingly harsh smile, pressing his hands against the glass with a pained ferocity, and BAN BANG!-- with his fists, as hard as he could, whirling around, ripping at his arms involuntarily with his nail, small trickles of blood splashing out from the newfound cuts.

I saw Soi jerk his arm back and around, holding him in that position as she randomly called for another nurse�s aid in the situation. He struggled, then appeared to relax; Soi loosened her grip, and he snarled, something very ugly, and twisted himself out of her grasp, attempting to run away from her. The entire thing seemed almost unreal�.nothing had caused the sudden attack, or provoked it into happening, so to speak, or so I had seen�At that point she let out a shrill squawk, reaching out and grabbing his arm again, he turned his fist right into her face, sobbing. She let him go then, but he didn�t run, after all; instead, he sank to his knees, weeping and howling, clawing at his face. By the time the other nurses came to restrain him, his face was shredded and bleeding profusely. Soi gave some guttural command to the others, helping them lift him up, dragging him off wailing and shrieking, moaning out pleas and sorries.
The next day I had seen him again, small cuts and scrapes riddled on his pretty features. He was rocking silently in a chair, holding himself, repeating some unknown mantra, tears streaking his face. His bright fiery hair seemed to be permanently set on ennd ond only one thing came to mind�

Shock treatment, then. Tamahome had informed me later that night that Tasuki had been subjected to shock therapy at least twelve times since he�d been there. I felt�so much pity for him�when I saw his sad expression, my heart was torn asunder.
Placing the papers aside for a moment, I stand up, stretching. The evening sun is setting into the hills beyond, leaking color onto the earth�s proportions heedlessly. Tamahome remains motionless, his thin body damp with perspiration, clothes sticking to his form tightly, revealing a well built form underneath those many layers. Shadows play across his countenance, the residual light slowly dancing through his eyelashes.

I pour myself a glass of water, gulping it down rather loudly, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, then rooting through the drawers in the tiny kitchen, I find my drawing supplies.

In the failing light, I sketch his limp form, smearing charcoal absently on my forehead as I swipe stray hair out of my line of vision. Caught up in my work, I am unawares when he finally comes to, his eyes opening slowly in he gray darkness enveloping the room.

- Hnnn? I fell asleep?

- Yes�

Raising himself up on his elbows, he grins sheepishly.

- It�s the heat. Feels a little cooler now. Wish they�d put a fucking air conditioner in these apartments. Shifting his gaze on my notepad, What�s that?

- Oh�well, I allow him to take it from me.

- His eis eyes widen, pupils dilated in the forthcoming night, Hey, this is good. Is it me?

- I suppose.

- You should do something with this talent�he hands it back slowliviniving it one final glance before arching his back, yawning.

- It was always just a hobby for me.

- Nice, but if I could draw like that, I wouldn�t be here. I�d be drawing shoujo comics. He smiles again, standing up rigidly. Hey, we missed dinner�

- Ah, I�m sorry.

- No biggie. He shrugs. I gotta go make a phone call�he walks stiffly out, working his shoulder blades viciously, You get to look through your packets?

- Yeah�

- Not too many surprises, ne? He slips out, sliding the panel shut behind him, silently. I sigh, and pick up the remaining folder.
Patient Name: Li Chichiri

Number: Unspecified as yet

Diagnoses: Unspecified. Previous diagnoses from Prison Facility Confidential.

Notes: Violent tendencies. Undeterminable behavior. Personality disorder? OCD? Thought to be a sociopath. Possible psychosis. Depression. Attempted suicide record 205 times throughout life. In prison for manslaughter and attempted murder. Severe mental disturbances. Suffered trauma in prison and home life questionable.
My heart snags in my chest. I�m an intern right? Isn�t this� a little questionable? My skills aren�t at this level!! How the hell do they expect me to handle someone like THIS?! He�s a murderer, that�s a little different from your typical mentally ill neurotic�

Tamahome pulls the sliding door open again, this time carrying his pillow and dressed in his blue striped pajamas. He stumbles into my bed, covers himself with a thin gray sheet. We say nothing; after all, what is there to say? If he feels�safer�next to me�then I�ll grant him that much. Of course, it likely will be unbearably warm tonight�.

My phone beeps, much to my surprise. Picking up hesitantly, -Hello?

- Mitsukake. It�s Soi. Come down to the Main Hall. We�ve got a new patient. You�ve got his file, right?
- 5
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Somewhere in the summer garden