[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]In the depths of the Fourth, coldness nipped at the walls, and though the rooms and halls were well-lit, a foreboding darkness hung in the air. Unlike the upper floors where everything shifted with activity, this one was still. Eerily still and deafeningly silent. The air was stale, and was muddled with the sterile scent of death.
Either there was a new patient, or something that rose from its slumber. In the shadows, one particular shinigami, one frail of heart, waited patiently under the guise of invisibility. The chill crawled under her skin, and every sound made her heart leap. Her body shivered under the cold surroundings, but she did not have the luxury to cast spells, nor did she have the luxury to make any sound at all. It was miserable. She longed to flee from this place. She wanted answers.
Another one was much like her. Except, it was her body that was frail, and that her life was on the line.
However, even when they began this contest, they already knew that they weren't on par with each other.
Finally, one's time went up.
Gentle waves of reiatsu flared up, a remarkable presence in this room where nothing makes itself present. At least, nothing was supposed to. She began to breathe, but continued to lay still, almost as good as a sleeping person. When she felt that it was safe, the woman shifted to her side and covered her mouth, muffling the soft groans that could materialize the cry of her heavily wounded body.
When she sat up, her body slumped as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, with her head hung low and her legs dangling upon the edge of the metal platform. Her labored breathing was easy to hear—it was the only sound produced inside the room, and it filled the air without fail. She was, unlike the other patients in the room, unmistakable awake... and very much alive.
The other woman made her way towards the platform in slow and steady steps. It wasn't perfectly silent, but she tried her best anyway. A pause from the patient made her halt on her steps, fearing that she'd been heard. She even tried to hold her breath as she neared the other woman, unwilling to surrender even then.
She halted her steps a few feet from the other woman, near enough to be of an arm's reach, but far enough to quickly escape, should the other woman find this encounter extremely unpleasant.
"I apologize for destroying your plans, but why are you pretending to be dead?"
The sitting woman froze on her spot and held her breath.
"If you have other plans, please cease them now." The veil finally dispersed, revealing a lithe lady with wavy, strawberry-blonde tresses. Beneath the weary silver eyes lied a firm conviction, something that looked fiercely stern, but also strangely unimposing.
"For identity purposes, we can have a compatibility analysis using your blood sample. I am supposed to do that, in order to identify your corpse. Except, you are not dead, and I respect your right to be heard." She merely stood, her hand placed over the other, eagerly waiting for the other's response.
The other woman bit her lip, and tightened her grip on the white linen sheet that once covered her body. Her entire body was wrapped with bandages to conceal the pinks and blacks that mapped her skin, Though her eyes were uncovered, the left one was unable to open. Her lips, too, were badly burned, but they identified that she would have been capable of speech if she wanted to.
"Glass Veil!" She finally spoke, forcing her throat muscles to shout at its loudest. The other woman was ready to hop down from her gurney and escape all this trouble, but the other woman beat her to it.
"Keeji," the blonde woman flatly spoke, and summoned a metal prison to swiftly descend upon the metal gurney. "Unfortunately, miss, your condition will not allow you to go far. I would let you go, but your actions are too suspicious." Her eyes bore down on the mummified patient, only half-certain that her patient was, indeed, there.
"I already told you, I don't remember!" The other woman finally spoke, the tinge of defeat resonating subtly under her defensive tone.
The blonde healer hummed for a moment, regarding her patient with a bit of wariness. "You are good at lying, miss, but your body fails you," she spoke calmly. "Increased heart rate, a quicker blood flow, heat on your head... I do not need to touch you in order to determine those changes." Finally, she stepped away from her spot and slowly made her way around the makeshift prison. "I had my healer's eyes opened, when you woke up."
There was complete silence from the other woman. It took a moment before she finally revealed herself, still seated upon the metal gurney. One auburn eye stared down at the cold floor, while her fingers continued to tighten upon the clean sheet.
"If you continue your suspicious activity, we might have to bring you to the Second for questioning, and perhaps have a healer to attend to your condition. The Fourth is usually not this hostile, but your actions may compel us to do so." The healer stopped in her tracks and looked intently at the patient and merely awaited further movement. "I will ask again, as my other colleagues did before. What is your name, and which division are you from?"
"An...seki...shoku..." the woman spoke after a long silence, vaguely whispering the syllables through her teeth. "Ansekishoku... Terumi."
The healer nodded, though the woman's name was a bit difficult to imprint on the mind. "Right. And?"
"Previously Tenth. None now," the words seethed through her, as though the mere mention of it made her hate it even more.
"Good, thank you." The healer spoke pleasantly, and started pacing back to the patient, who remained behind bars. "We will have your files fetched from your division as soon as we can. But you have not answered my first question." She stopped right in front of the patient, just as she willed the bars to disperse, giving her a clear view of the mummified woman. She leaned closer to meet the patient's gaze and spoke softly. "Why were you pretending to be dead?"
The patient's auburn eye blink and looked away, breaking from the healer's piercing gaze. "I... uh... sort of, ran away," she spoke nervously, eyes shifting on the flat surface of the morgue's floor. She frantically waved her hands in front of her, "Not exactly deserting, no. Just...." A sigh escaped her lips as pain seared through her arms, and she was forced to rest them at her side. "I was just planning to move to another division. So I'm kind of, in a limbo... right now," she spoke sadly, dropping her gaze to her knees.
The healer was silent. She looked at the woman intently, and awaited further explanation.
"It's just... not my home anymore. I wanted to talk to the Spirits, but they're gone now!"
The strawberry-blonde shinigami pulled away, just to give enough space for the other lady to explain herself. There were many gaps in the patient's story, but it was less troublesome than having to figure out one's identity from scratch. Honestly, she doubted that she could gain much from this patient, but any sort of information could help them.
"You need not to go that far though," the blonde healer spoke as her fingers gingerly reached for the denreishinki inside her shihakusho. "Your survival was miraculous at best, but your condition is still dismal. It would require months of recovery, and probably reconstructive surgery. Technically, you would not have been fit to resume work. You could have processed your papers during recovery time instead of playing dead. Not a really good joke, from a healer's hindsight."
"I'm sorry. Just... desperate situations." Terumi shrugged and looked at the healer with the corner of her eye.
The healer just nodded and flipped her phone open. "I will inform the officers of your condition. For now, I think it is only appropriate to move you back in a room," she distractedly spoke as her fingers quickly moved through the keys of the diminutive gadget. As soon as she was done, she closed it and looked up at the patient once more. "I will call someone to assist me with your transfer. Meanwhile, please lie down. It will be more difficult for you if you continue to strain your body." With a smile and a nod, the shinigami finally scurried off in a straight line to the doors, and on to the empty hall. She took one quick look, and disappeared in a corner, leaving the entire hall stiller than before she arrived.
The mummified patient scoffed and laboriously laid herself down on the metal gurney, her body shielded only by the white blanket. She was alone, surrounded only by cryogenic chambers and other corpses awaiting for storage. Right, she already did her best to cover her tracks. A good investigator would probably figure it out, but not a healer.
"Right. I'm Terumi... now." With a sigh, she wound the blanket tighter around her body, and hid herself in the fragile solace that it offered.
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Chap 1/2
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"We have retrieved your file," the healer spoke and carefully opened the folder in front of Terumi. "Ansekishoku Terumi, right?"
The mummified patient nodded, and the corner of her lips curled into a smile beneath the bandages. She was seated on her gurney, and was quite the attention-grabber in the burn unit. Several healers peered at her way as they passed with their own patients, while the patients in question often looked away as soon as they laid their eyes on her, probably wishing that they would not see through the same fate.
"It was highly difficult to identify you due to the magnitude of your burns, thank you for your cooperation." The lithe healer smiled at her and pulled the file away. With a slight hum, the silver-eyed shinigami scanned the file, eyes swiftly sweeping through the letters. 156 years old, female, been in the Tenth for three months, no division techniques learned, never knew how to talk to the Spirits, average Academy grades, no known releases, no remarkable items or feats. It was a fairly empty personnel file, but for a newbie, it was quite understandable. After all, the healer had gotten what she needed: an image of the patient.
From the file, the woman in the image looked straight at the camera, her auburn eyes bright and wide, her heart-shaped face made chubbier by the wide, toothy grin plastered on her face. Her visage was pale, accentuated by a short, coral-colored hair with bright orange highlights, held up with a thick braid and a string of red ribbon. Her thin lips were painted in a deep shade of red, a wee bit darker than the maroon eyeshadow she had on. Even with her rather 'dark' appearance, her countenance was completely the opposite. Somehow, even the healer found it hard to believe that this bright young lady had such a personality.
"Your hair, dyed, I would presume?" The healer looked up from the file and peered at the patient, who seemed rather interested in her response.
Terumi nodded somberly, a single hand reaching for the top of her head, where all the strands of hair had either burned to a wiry black, or completely gone from her head. "I just don't have a penchant for black. Too normal, you know?" She ended with a shrug and pretended to look away, though she continued to probe the healer's expression through the corners of her eyes.
The healer merely chuckled as she nodded. "Good," she finally spoke and closed the file, sending a slight breeze as it closed. Once tightly shut, the lady settled it on the side of the gurney, and carefully picked up the clipboard settled upside down. "Since your papers for transfer were not finished, we will continue to consider you as a bona fide member of the Tenth. In the meantime, we have informed your immediate supervisor of your condition."
The patient looked down at the floor and simply nodded.
"Would you consent to a reconstructive surgery? It would be a painful process, but we will have to perform the operation if you would like your face back. Let it be known that you have other options, in case you do not wish to undergo such a procedure."
There was a long pause, and for a moment, only the bustling activity in the burn unit was heard between them—the groans of new patients being wheeled in, commands of supervisors to their assistants, and incantations for healing spells, among others.
"I'd be willing, yes, that'd be fine," the patient finally spoke distractedly, before looking up at the healer to verify the words that had just escaped her mouth.
"Are you entirely sure?" The healer asked again, peering down at the mummified woman.
"Yes, I'm sure." Terumi spoke with a slight nod, as her lips pressed into a grim line.
"Okay. I will have your paperwork ready then. Please wait for a while."
The strawberry-blonde shinigami marked something on her clipboard and wrote more, before she picked up the folder, turned on her heel and swiftly disappeared in the crowd of healers.
"Papers," Terumi grimly mumbled under her breath as soon as the healer was out of earshot. Another healer nearby helped her settle down on the gurney, a long and rather agonizing force of movement, it seemed. With every move that her muscles took, pain stung her body, and every sudden gesture she took felt like there was sandpaper on her body. Her jaw quivered with pain, and she did her best not to bite her lip. It was difficult, but it was necessary.
Damn it, she's smart. Any smarter and she would've uncovered the secret, she thought as her body was finally settled upon the cold, clean sheet. And a little more authority, and she could've undid everything. She glared at the doorway as heavy breaths escaped her mouth. While her body was still, her thoughts ricocheted in different directions. She had lots of questions, lots of plans, lots of observations... none of which were cohesive.
She was fairly certain she'd seen the healer before, sometime, somewhere, in some occasion that she couldn't quite point out in her memory. Long, strawberry-blonde tresses, an extra white uniform over her shihakusho, thick obi, and a pair of cute, non-combat ready shoes. Formal speech. Defensive. Healer. Brain stab? Critical damage? Mist? She was quite certain that she never worked with the healer before, not in a mission, not in a scouting mission, not in an inter-cosmos mindfuck. Terumi sighed and growled at herself internally, and clicked her tongue in utter frustration.
With a decisive groan, she tried to push away the thoughts off her head, and renewed the words circling on her head. She closed her eyes and thought for a long while—a long, and difficult while. Brain stab? Brain stab? Her brows furrowed as she slowly bit her lip, a gesture that she quickly regretted. Brain stab, Toride? Tournament? But then, her eyelid quickly snapped open, its edges widened. Cheering. Tournament. Thunder? Victory... Threat.
Shit. If that's true, I'm in a really bad situation, she thought as her auburn eye darted back at the doorway and scanned it for the healer's presence. Her heart raced, and her muscles tightened. For the first time since she had undergone this little escape shenanigan, she felt genuinely frightened of something that was out of her scope of control. Not for the life of that lithe lady whom she left her uniform with, or the denreishinki that she left on her last mission location, or the zanpakutou she swapped, or a falsified dossier entry. She was actually afraid of some unseated healer who doesn't even initiate attacks in a tournament. What she was afraid of, was the healer's connections.
I listed the name of a notably forgetful officer ranked below me as Terumi's immediate supervisor. Since the condition is bad, it should be forwarded to the supervisor's immediate officer, that should've been me. Since I'm supposedly 'out on a mission', it should be forwarded to the officer who holds the nearest seat. The mummified patient sighed internally as her fingers quivered, itching to force her body to run out of the goddamn place and make another excuse. It'd be lucky if it didn't get to Adele's hands. And I'd be luckier than a lottery billionaire if this wily thing doesn't mention this to Adelaide the next time they train.
She felt the heat rise up to her head, and the vision her one eye could afford even darkened. Terumi could almost feel the beads of sweat forming on her brow, and could visualize her own self reddening at the thought. Technically, she could spam Threshold and run the fuck out of here. Too many people, she couldn't have turned into a sparrow and fled away... it would reveal her most favored disguise. She could use her item and take a cosmetic change, but then, too many watchful eyes. Her breathing became heavier, and her fingers desperately curled around the side bar of her gurney, bracing herself for the worst.
Airhead, get your shit together! She told herself as she mustered all her energy and cast Threshold upon herself, shortly before she forcibly pulled her body and sat upright. It was as though she was awakened from a nightmare, and it drew the attention of nearby healers and patients, if only momentarily. Actually, it felt good. Her entire body was painless, and it felt like she could run a hundred miles and not feel the searing burns.
"Please don't force yourself!" Another healer was assisting his colleague wheel in a new patient to a designated bed, but quickly agreed to part ways and immediately shuffled towards Terumi, his lips mumbling a string of words that were incoherent and inaudible from Terumi's distance. Something queer glowed softly in his hands, a thin trace of a pattern that was, at best, indistinct to Terumi.
"No, no, I... I just gotta go somewhere, I, uh... forgot to do something. I need to finish it, or... or..." she hastily spoke, the words juggling inside her mind. She quickly swung her legs to the side of the gurney and forced her arms to push her body down, but she was caught by the healer.
"I'm pretty sure your officer will be understanding of it, whatever it is," the healer kindly spoke, his kind hands wrapping around her shoulder. He offered a warm smile, and held the patient steady with a firm grip.
Slowly, Terumi felt her heartbeat go slower, and the muscles that screamed for escape gradually calmed down. Her body didn't feel heavier, but her heart distinctly felt lighter. Her breathing became steadier, and her mind felt less cluttered. Her mind thought it was perfectly fine to resist, but actually, she felt less motivated to do so. I should try this again in the evening, she reminded herself as she stared at the new shinigami, fearing that her insistence might lead him to probe deeper. Terumi felt better—a little fluffy, but better than batshit crazy.
"Do lie down, or your pain will be the bane of your existence," he spoke, his soft purple stare almost melting down her every desire to escape. With a tender smile, his arm wrapped on the curve of her back, while the other scooped up her legs and adjusted her body to a more comfortable position. He was surprisingly strong, despite a flakey-looking physique. "Who's your attending healer?" He inquired as soon as he pulled his arms back, one hand on her shoulder while another reached to adjust his glasses.
Terumi shrugged disinterestedly. Honestly? The healer's name couldn't even begin to resurface in her thoughts. It was a weird, non-Japanese sounding name, even Ansekishoku was easier to memorize.
"Okay then. Understandable." He simply nodded, and looked away, his eyes scanning entire burn unit. Nope, no one seems to be heading towards this patient. When there was none to be found, he simply sighed and redirected his attention to the bandaged patient, one hand clasping the side of her gurney. "What were you supposed to be doing? Something tells me you're supposed to be resting."
She nodded wordlessly, almost guilty that she forced herself to do unnecessary things. Terumi would have wallowed in the list of irrational things she'd done in the past week, if her mind wasn't so busy focusing on the pain that quickly surged through her body as the effects of Threshold wore off. Agonized groans and sharp sucks of breath came from Terumi, and tears formed at the edge of her eyes. No, no, never again, she cried internally, and winced externally.
The brown-haired healer didn't remove his hand from the woman's shoulder. On the contrary, it seemed as though his grip tightened on her shoulder. He whispered something, but she couldn't quite make out the words.
Terumi could feel her entire body quivering, and the healer was quick to respond. The pattern on his hand glowed once more, and she could feel sensation on her shoulders slipping away. She feared that it could be another Threshold, but the sheer slowness of the numbing process spoke otherwise. "Wh... what are you doing?" the words slipped from her lips, in-between the painful gasps for air and agonized moans.
"Anesthetizing you, since it seems you've forced yourself more than you could handle," he spoke, with an oddly enthusiastic tone that almost lifted her spirits, if the latter part of his statement didn't seem like some old hag's chastising.
She nodded as his hand drifted from her shoulders, down to the length of her arm. Terumi's auburn eye simply stared at the healer, who stared back with a reassuring smile. The dimples on his slightly chubby cheeks deepened, and if she didn't know better, she'd have thought that this healer was an innocent kid in a grown-up's body. That was how he looked, in her eye. He actually seemed rather feminine. His facial features were soft, and his chin-length hair seemed well-taken cared of. Even from beneath her bandages, she could feel his hand's tenderness, and decided that it was rather unusual, for someone who's male and supposedly overworked. A closer look would have informed her of the fact that it was actually manicured. He had the skin of someone who probably lived half their life in a spa, and dons himself with a well-pressed uniform like his appearance needs to be at its utmost finest.
At that moment, she felt really fluffy and warm, and her senses told her that it somehow radiated from him. She didn't know why, or how, but it felt like so.
"Feeling better?" He finally spoke and pulled away, his head tilting innocuously at his side.
"Y-yes, a bit..." Terumi affirmed, and tried lifting her arm.
Tried. He was quick to respond, and his hand swiftly reached to pin down before she could even lift it. "Since you're in so much pain, wouldn't it be more comfortable to sleep? I doubt you're supposed to have tests soon."
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she nodded in resignation. Right, she had tons of time before nightfall. A few hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.
Slowly, the healer placed his hands on Terumi's temples and spoke the incantation. "Slow the stream, goddess of the moon." The patient could feel the warm reiatsu washing over her head, and the more he spoke, the heavier it felt. "Pull us under into enveloping depths. The air is thick, the wind is slow, fall into my arms." Terumi felt the weight of her eyelids pressing down, her mind cajoling her into slumber. "Chiyudou seventy-one, Compelling Rest."
Terumi could still feel the slight twisting and pricking feeling in her body, but only a little. It felt fuzzier and fuzzier, and she felt her own breathing reverting back to its regulated pace. "Healer-san, I nearly forgot... to ask your name," she whispered between her breath, almost a whisper as she slowly drifted to sweet slumber.
"Oh, it's Chun." It was all that registered in her cognition, and she nodded somberly in response. She didn't even catch his last name, or anything that went after.
Once the channeling had finished, Chun pulled away from the patient and stood erectly, placing his hands on his pockets. He stood there, his watchful eyes staring down at the mummified patient. Not moving? Good. That's how it's supposed to be. He was about to step away, when an all-too-familiar voice squeaked behind him.
"Oh, she slept?" the strawberry-blonde healer spoke, gawking at Terumi from behind the files lifted close to her chest. "What a surprise...." She cluelessly blinked, as if in a quizzical daze. With slow steps, she moved forward, walked past her fellow healer and lifted her hand, placing two fingers right outside the patient's nostrils. "She is really just asleep...."
Ansherina turned around and faced her husband, her bright silver irises fixed on him. "Did you do this, Sunny?"
"Well, she was, um, trying to escape...." He shrugged, with an abashed smile curled on his lips. "Were you supposed to do something important?"
"No, not really. I just needed her sign...." She puffed her cheek and nodded in sheer understanding. Her eyes gradually shifted to the side, and glanced at the peaceful patient. "I seriously consider the possibility that we will have to count the numerous ways miss Ansekishoku will try to escape."
