changes | kiribaku

11 | remembering how to remember

Short chapter, and the first one we've had outside of text(ing) format! Yayyy! :D

"Katsuki."

His head snapped up at the sound of his own name. Doctor Kobayashi stared back at him, her plump lips filled in with red lipstick. Her eyes were dull silver, framed by clunky black glasses. Not his father.

"Yes?"

"How are you feeling?"

She stared at him, and he didn't know how to do anything but stare back at her. Her dull silver eyes had a ring of blue and gold around her pupil. He could see his reflection in her glasses, and though it was muted, he could make out the shadows that rested beneath his ruby-red eyes, heavier than sin. He used to be so full of life. Now, look at him: a shell of the boy he used to be. He could barely stand on his own without falling flat on his face. He was so pale, he was almost translucent. 

"Fine."

"Katsuki," she said again. His own name made him shiver. He glanced up at the analog clock on the wall. He had another 56 minutes of this shit to sit through.

"Are your nightmares any better?"

"Not really," he deadpanned, not taking his eyes off the clock. He swallowed, and his tonsils ached.

"Have you been taking your meds?"

"I don't want to take them. I take them when I absolutely have to. And even then they don't do shit for me."

"Katsuki, we've talked about this."

"And I don't want to talk about it again. If I even think about it again, I might lose my mind. He's gone now, but my mind is telling me he's everywhere. I know better than that but my brain doesn't! You wanna know why? Because it happened every day since I was six! And nobody even batted an eye! And now I don't recognize myself!

"So tell me what the fuck I can do now. Tell me what drug will make all the nightmares disappear, what fucking pill will make all the pain go away, and maybe I'll take it. But, until then, I won't do it. Because I don't want to grow dependent on something I know I can live without. So instead of throwing new prescriptions around, give me an actual fucking coping mechanism. Because I don't want a pill. I'm sick of pills. My entire world is pills. So get the fuck on with it."

By the time he was done, both of them were speechless. Katsuki took strong, slow breaths and didn't back down when she stared at him, dumbfounded. He knew he was right, but that doesn't mean he was incapable of feeling guilty because of the confusion and bewilderment in Doctor Kobayashi's grey irises.

"Okay," she said. And she smiled gently, the corners of her blood-red lips cutting into her freckled cheeks. She scribbled something down in her notes and looked back up at him, her smile still there, her eyes soft and void of any disdain or disagreement.

"So," she began. "Is there anything you would like to try first?"

💛

The ride home was quiet other than the quiet hum of the song on the radio. He didn't know the artist or the title, and the song was slow, quiet, and somewhat eerie. His mother looked over at him from the driver's seat, placing a firm hand on his knee. 

"Your birthday's coming up," she said, a smile on her face. His mother looked impressively young for having a child and a divorce, and she looked the same with or without make-up (usually without). "Anything you had in mind, buckaroo?"

"Not really," he said, leaning his head against the window and smiling faintly at his mother's obsessive, enthusiastic antics.

"Come on," she rolled her eyes, taking the palm of her hand off Katsuki's knee and back on the steering wheel, eyes on the road. "There's gotta be something you want for your birthday, kiddo! Maybe. . . a new phone? Oh, or that professional set of oil pastels you've been yappin' about? Even a car!"

He waited for a moment while his mother urged him on. 

"Is there anything you want?"

His phone dinged in his lap. He opened the notification, and it was from Kirishima. He'd sent a picture of a pomeranian glaring into the camera with the caption "look it's u!!"

"Yeah, maybe there is."