The green glow faded from the nurse's hands, and Hikaru felt the last of the wound seal itself shut beneath skin that was still tender and new. She lay on the bathroom tile with her chest exposed and her roommate standing three feet away and a medical professional kneeling over her body, and she wanted very badly to sink through the floor and keep falling until she hit something that would kill her properly.
"Can you sit up?"
The nurse's voice was clipped. Not unkind, but the kind of professional neutrality that Hikaru recognized from years of navigating systems designed to process people rather than help them. She pushed herself into a sitting position, one arm crossing over her breasts in a gesture that felt pathetic and necessary at the same time.
"I need you to look at me, Miss Tanaka."
