CW:Heavy emotional themes, references to a harrowing backstory, and non-graphic depictions of mental illness.
〖Voices. Always voices.〗
"Useless girl." (Ste######## whiskey-rough slur)
"Skinny little ghost." (Yumi's sneer from the alley)
"Prostitute." (The enforcer's wet command)
And threading through it all, a cold, familiar drone: "Hikari… Hikari… Hikari…" Her name a taunt, a dirge.
She floated in a grey sea of half-sleep, tethered only by phantom hands and the acidic churn in her stomach. Forgotten pills. Forgotten peace.
She surfaced to pressure on her shoulder. Gentle.
A jolt of pure terror ripped through her. Hikari recoiled violently, the blanket falling away, eyes wide and wild—a trapped animal's stare. The nurse stepped back, hands raised. "Shh, dear. Only me. It's alright."
Across the hall, Jin was on his feet before his eyes fully opened, body snapping alert. "Status?" he demanded, voice graveled with sleep and strain.
The nurse kept her gaze steady on Hikari, but spoke to Jin. "He's stable. For now. Surgery's done. Critical but… contained." She listed it clinically: "Skull fracture stabilized. Ribs pinned. Pneumothorax drained. Blood loss… significant. He's in recovery."
Jin sagged minutely. Relief warred with the knowledge of how thin that stability was. His sharp eyes flicked to Hikari, who was trembling, fists clenched in the blanket, staring at the floor as if it might swallow her.
〖Hikari!!〗
The voice slithered again—cold, paternal, dripping with old contempt. Loud. Close.
Hikari flinched. Her breathing hitched, turning shallow and rapid. She couldn't look at Jin, couldn't bear the weight of his scrutiny. The nurse saw it—the tremor, the pallor, the way her pupils dilated with unfocused panic.
"Miss?" the nurse murmured, bending close. "Let's get you somewhere quieter."
Hikari's lips moved, soundless at first. Then a fractured whisper, barely audible: "S-Sentralin…? Or… anything…?" she rasped, her throat tight. "I… forgot my meds." Shame flushed her neck. Pathetic. Needing help when Kuro lay shattered.
〖Hikari.. Hikari.. Hikari.〗 The voices overlapped now—high school sneers, the enforcer's chuckle, her ste######## cold call. Five, six of them, a dissonant choir.
The nurse didn't hesitate. "Come with me." She offered a hand—not to grab, but to guide. Hikari stared at it, then took it, her fingers ice-cold and trembling.
Jin watched them go, his expression unreadable. He saw the brittle fragility in Hikari's posture, the way she leaned into the nurse's support as if her legs might buckle. Saw the nurse steer her gently but firmly down the hall toward a small, dimly lit office marked "STAFF ONLY."
Inside, the nurse sat Hikari in a worn armchair, away from the glaring fluorescence of the corridor. She knelt, meeting Hikari's hollow gaze. "Sentralin? For anxiety?"
Hikari nodded jerkily. "A-And… stomach. The pain…"
"Okay. We have alternatives here." The nurse opened a locked cabinet, retrieving a small blister pack. "This is similar. Fast-acting. And this," she handed Hikari a small paper cup of water, "will help the nausea too. Does Sentralin help you sleep?"
"Sometimes," Hikari whispered, dry-swallowing the offered pill with shaky hands. "Makes the... voices... quiet. Inside..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of her unspoken thoughts hanging in the air, a fragile silence enveloping her as she fought against the turmoil within.
The nurse's words were a fragile lifeline. "He fought hard. He will get through this." Hikari clung to them as the door clicked shut, sealing her into the dim, quiet office. Alone.
〖Liar.〗
The voice scraped across her thoughts, colder than the ste######## whiskey breath.
〖Nothing makes it quiet. Not really.〗
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