WON'T TURN BACK, miyuki kazuya

chapter 13

Breaking the news about you paying to your mom goes about as well as you think it will.

That is, a nurse has to come in and tell you all to settle down, as you are 'disturbing the other patients.'

In hindsight, it's probably not best to tell her while she's still there. You just hope that doesn't make its way around town.

In any case, eventually, she accepts it. Only after you bring up the same thing you said to your dad. You have the means. Maybe it's not about reciprocation, but you want to take care of them regardless. In any way you can. Doing this ensures that.

The three of them hang around even after she is discharged, since you have your check-up with Dr. Chakravarty and, well, you also drove them here.

Your knee feels better today, after you stretched last night and again when you woke up. It's not perfect, though. As Chakravarty tests the mobility of your knee and pokes and prods, you wince at some of it.

"A bit tender," he murmurs, cold fingers sliding over the edge of your patella. "Did you hurt it?"

"No. I mean, I forgot to stretch before bed two days ago but it'd started hurting out of nowhere a little bit before that."

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"A seven?"

"Hmm. Could be somatic," he says, rolling the chair back after he finishes his examination.

"Somatic?"

He makes a circling gesture at his head. "Psychological. A specific trigger... an emotionally charged memory or something of the like. How about it?"

You're ready to say no but... you had broken down talking about West shortly before it started hurting. Could that be it?

It doesn't make much sense. You've thought about him before and it hasn't affected your knee. Not that much, anyway.

Then again — when was the last time you truly broke down about it?

You purse your lips.

"It was traumatic, you know."

Your eyes snap to his.

"The surgery, I mean."

You huff. "I guess."

"Have you looked into therapy since leaving?"

"No," you mutter, shifting. "Too expensive."

He sighs. "It is. Well. Should you come into the means to do it, I would highly recommend you do so."

Right. Well. You are about to sign away all the viable savings that could go to that, so...

"I'll keep it in mind."

"That's all I ask."

Everything else goes fine. He clears you and you meet up with your family in the waiting room. They, apparently, want to go get breakfast.

See, it's this that you dread.

The hospital you consider a sort of neutral ground. Right? It's the hospital. No time for funny business of any kind.

Gav's Diner, the iconic food spot in your town where everyone and their dog likes to go?

Decidedly not neutral ground. In fact, you consider it very much enemy territory.

But you don't say anything. It's hard to say anything. You don't want to burden them like that.

So, you pile into the Audi (after your mom proceeds to scan every inch of it, just as taken as your brother was, with you and your dad standing away, sharing an amused look) and take off.