MANIA - Katsuki Bakugou

appointment ━

chapter 29

PRESENT DAY
June 30th, 2 months after Kagoshima

The adult Shimamura sat quietly, etching pencil markings onto a paper and clipboard. She sat with her legs crossed, dressed inconspicuously in a navy blue trench coat and black pants. Her white hair tied entirely up into a bun, without her two trailing strands which usually protruded. She seemed somewhat put together. Visually, anyway.

A dozen people walked past, ignoring her presence. But she couldn't help but notice theirs.

They ranged in all ages. All genders. All looks and sizes and quirks. But they all had that same unearthly look to them in their eyes. Detached and confused. As if they didn't belong in the place they currently stood.

Shimamura could and couldn't relate to them in so many ways.

"Stop that, stop that, stop that... What did I just tell you?!"

A short, stubby old woman walked with a crutch through the hallway that Shimamura sat in. She whisper-yelled at nobody in particular. Swiping at something next to her as if she were swatting at a bug. Shimamura's blue eyes followed the old crone as she wandered down the hallway, and somehow the woman felt her eyes on the back of her skull.

The woman snapped her head towards her, glaring at her with a critical look. Shimamura's eyes dipped down, avoiding eye contact before she could see her staring. The woman sniffled and turned away, mumbling to herself again.

The voices around Shimamura seemed to blur into one long line of static noise. White noise. Like a little bee had made its home within her ear, making a nest to torture her with. She withheld her reactions to it while she quietly wrote on her clipboard. She wrote a few words, circling others. Scribbling her name and the date at the top before she could forget.

What's the date? What's the date? April 14th—no that's not right. June 30th. Yes.

Her mind read one word then tossed it out before she could consider its meaning. Her hands worked without direction. But there was one word that she circled that she could compute.

Severe.

She encircled it and put her pen down. Her name was being called out to her. She blinked. She felt tired all of a sudden. A woman led her carefully down a narrow hallway, taking the clipboard and paper from her.

I think I put the wrong date. Maybe I should ask for it back...

The woman brought her into a small room. There was an off-white table attached to the wall with cabinets pasted above the surface. A few black chairs in the corner, and a raised futon on the opposite wall to the door. The woman left her in the room and told Shimamura to sit on the cushion. She obliged without a second of questioning.

Shimamura's mind had already abandoned the thought of the paper and the date.

Someone walked in. He was dressed in a white coat. The doctor.

"Shimamura... Good to see you again." There was a sense of gravity to his voice. He had news that was weighing him down. She could see it like a ball and chain bound to his ankle, pulling him into the earth.

Shimamura smiled meekly. "Hi... I'd like to say it's nice to see you too, but coming here usually means it's not."

He laughed. "I don't blame you with that logic."

He sat down in one of the chairs in the corner and leaned forward on his knees, pressing his elbows against them. His lips moved, words came out, but Shimamura couldn't hear him. Not really. His words went through one ear and out the other. The only thing he managed to do was distort the white noise she currently heard. She tipped her head down, squeezing the bridge of her nose but avoiding touching her covered temples.

He could tell she was having a hard time. He spoke slower, quieter. And for some reason, he was clearer than he was before.

"—your condition is worsening, Shimamura—stop taking any medication—severe, permanent—unsafe."

Only the important words registered. She blinked open her eyes, rubbing them. Her whitened irises looked as if they could blend in with the whites of her eyes, although her natural color was bright blue. It was as if snow had fallen on her pupils.

Her lips pursed as she looked back up at the doctor. His face was solemn and grim. The space around him was dark. She focused on his presence to ground her, trying to keep herself sane.

"—stay living with a roommate in case anything... bad... happens." He tried to choose his words wisely, unaware she wasn't really listening.

She nodded gravely. "Of course."

He took a moment, then nodded. He stood and shook her hand, not handing her any prescription. She was going to question it until she remembered what he had said.

Stop taking any medication.

He smiled a pitiful smile at her and opened the door for her, letting her out of the suffocating examination room. Shimamura shrugged her trench coat back over her shoulders, not remembering having taken it off previously, before she walked out the door.

The white haired pro hero stalked down the narrow hallway. She followed the path that the old crone had walked before her. That crazy old crone.

These past two chapters were short... but fair warning, the next couple
are gonna be pretty long.
These were definitely breathers—for mostly you, not me. ;)