The intercom clicked on with its usual jingle, the Head Doctor's voice carrying with a bit more authoritative ease than it had earlier
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Renji was already in the room when Hisoka had arrived; he'd spent the end of the shift there, just laying on the bed where the orderlies had dropped him. He'd only rolled over onto his side to face the wall; it made him look like he was asleep.
And he wanted to be asleep. He wanted to not be able to think any more, at all. And he wanted a shower, with water hot enough to scald the skin right off of him. And... a lot of other things. But mostly, to just not think and remember.
He'd made so many mistakes. And he'd been punished for them.
From the minute he was dropped off at his room Hisoka could tell something was up. It had nothing to do with the tension that filled the room or the fact that Renji looked as if he could have had a much better day, even though his back was turned to him-- he had always been good with reading body language.
Alright, so maybe it did, but it didn't change the fact that the boy knew something strange was going on. His roommate was always the first one to get started on whatever and now he looked like a broken doll. A comparison the empath hated more than ever.
Without taking his eyes off his roommate, Hisoka took a small step further into the room.
Renji looked up slightly, just enough to confirm that it was Hisoka, and that Hisoka wasn't standing anywhere near him. "Hey." He waved vaguely toward the desks, where dinner was sitting, then turned back to the wall. In the brief moment his hand had been up, the new scabs across the palm had been visible; they were just starting to go tacky. "'m takin' a nap," he said. Hopefully Hisoka would take the hint and leave him alone.
Oh yes, Hisoka had gotten the hint alright, but being the stubborn 'brat' he was, he wasn't about to just back down just yet. The bastard had poked and prodded him (although not that much, so Hisoka would show mercy) about talking to others when he needed to get stuff off his chest. Was he about to ignore his own words now?
The brief sight of the nail marks in the palm of his hand only further convinced Hisoka that something had happened. Something beyond the usual fights that took place.
"Did you get into a fight?" He asked casually, keeping a sharp eye on his roommate's body language, waiting for something to give him away.
A fight would explain things, Renji supposed. And it wasn't a lie. It had been a fight, a fight he'd lost, and...
One shoulder slowly moved up, and down, in a shrug. "Yeah. Got sedated." Also not a lie. Just not in that order. The smell of food was starting to make him feel ill all over again. He told himself it was because of the drugs; those did bad things to his stomach. He hadn't felt right the last time he got sedated, either.
There was something being left out and, like with Tsuzuki, Hisoka couldn't figure out what. It was irritating beyond belief and Hisoka didn't even know why he bothered. He didn't care about what his roommate did during his free time, it wasn't his business.
"...Both the goddamn same," he muttered under his breath, stalking over to his desk where his his dinner waited.
Hisoka's muttering aside, he didn't actually ask anything else, and that was just fine with Renji. He drew his knees a little toward his chest, laying more comfortably. Maybe he would be able to sleep. The doors would unlock soon, and then he would have things to do, things to think of. He had to figure out how to teach three raw kids, one of whom was injured. Maybe he'd have enough in him to try to heal Tamaki again, but he doubted it.
His hands hurt, as did his wrists. It probably didn't help that he was clenching his hands in time with his breathing.
Hisoka ate his meal in silence, a dark glower on his face as his fought to keep his eyes from wandering over to the other side of the room. It wasn't his business, Tsuzuki was the one to jump into everything and try to comfort everyone without knowing the situation before knowing what the hell was even going on. So far, all he knew was that the guy went from down-to-business to screaming to sleeping in the Sun Room, which was interupted when orderlies--
He froze, choking on his bite as his mind made the connections. There was no way. Really. There was no way what he was thinking could have been even remotely true. Hisoka beat against his chest, coughing as tears welled up.
This place couldn't be that fucked up, he was hoping. And Hisoka rarely ever did that.
Again, Renji looked slowly over his shoulder at Hisoka. "You okay?" he asked. He gave Hisoka a tired, ghostly version of his normal smile. "Food was meant to be swallowed, not breathed."
Hisoka graced his oh-so-intelligent roommate with his usual 'fuck you' sign even as he took in the appearance of his face. That did nothing to help, it only convinced him even more of what happened. Or what could have possibly happened. Still coughing, the boy grabbed the glass of water nearby and took a large gulp.
It made sense. Doctor sessions were still going...
When Hisoka no longer seemed on the verge of death by choking, Renji once more turned to the wall, closing his eyes. Conversation with Hisoka was challenging on the best of days, like a verbal sword fight rather than a pleasant pastime. While it would've been a welcome distraction - a much needed, desperately needed one - he didn't have it in him right now.
Swallowing the rebellious bite of food, Hisoka placed the cup back into its place and sighed. So now what? ...Why the fuck was he even still thinking of this anyway? Didn't he have other things to deal with? (And whatever happened to 'none of his business'?) The boy sighed, pushing his dinner around his plate.
So that was it. Something happened during therapy... There could be no other possibility, the red haired man was looking like he was about to snap with the tension. If anything, now was probably a good time to pull back from questioning and leave things as they were. But it was gnawing at him.
What were the chances that Tsuzuki and Renji could have the same doctors?
It was such a small probability... Hisoka wasn't sure if it was the hatred and urge for revenge taking over his logic, deciding that Muraki was behind every bad thing that had ever happened. The boy wrestled with himself. To ask, or not to ask?
Midway through the silence, Renji realized that he was grinding his teeth. He made himself relax by force. Out of habit, he ran his fingers through his hair, only to encounter the nasty snarl that the... gag that had been tied on to him had left behind.
He sat up; he managed to keep that slow, because he really did feel tired. But as he began working his fingers through his hair, trying to get the knot out, there was a tremor to his hands and a jerkiness to the movement of his arms that made the motion frantic even if it was slow.
The nagging, biting, just plain annoying feeling to ask finally won out as Hisoka watched his roommate. He was too frazzled, something Muraki was wonderful at doing to others. Things were adding up and as paranoid as it sounded to constantly blame the silverhaired doctor, Hisoka was now positive that it had something to do with him. So without further ado, the boy casually turned his eyes to his fork, watching Renji out of the corner of his eye.
And he wanted to be asleep. He wanted to not be able to think any more, at all. And he wanted a shower, with water hot enough to scald the skin right off of him. And... a lot of other things. But mostly, to just not think and remember.
He'd made so many mistakes. And he'd been punished for them.
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Alright, so maybe it did, but it didn't change the fact that the boy knew something strange was going on. His roommate was always the first one to get started on whatever and now he looked like a broken doll. A comparison the empath hated more than ever.
Without taking his eyes off his roommate, Hisoka took a small step further into the room.
"Hey..." What was going on?
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The brief sight of the nail marks in the palm of his hand only further convinced Hisoka that something had happened. Something beyond the usual fights that took place.
"Did you get into a fight?" He asked casually, keeping a sharp eye on his roommate's body language, waiting for something to give him away.
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One shoulder slowly moved up, and down, in a shrug. "Yeah. Got sedated." Also not a lie. Just not in that order. The smell of food was starting to make him feel ill all over again. He told himself it was because of the drugs; those did bad things to his stomach. He hadn't felt right the last time he got sedated, either.
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"...Both the goddamn same," he muttered under his breath, stalking over to his desk where his his dinner waited.
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His hands hurt, as did his wrists. It probably didn't help that he was clenching his hands in time with his breathing.
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He froze, choking on his bite as his mind made the connections. There was no way. Really. There was no way what he was thinking could have been even remotely true. Hisoka beat against his chest, coughing as tears welled up.
This place couldn't be that fucked up, he was hoping. And Hisoka rarely ever did that.
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It made sense. Doctor sessions were still going...
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"You had therapy last shift."
Well there went 'none of his business'...
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What were the chances that Tsuzuki and Renji could have the same doctors?
It was such a small probability... Hisoka wasn't sure if it was the hatred and urge for revenge taking over his logic, deciding that Muraki was behind every bad thing that had ever happened. The boy wrestled with himself. To ask, or not to ask?
Reply
He sat up; he managed to keep that slow, because he really did feel tired. But as he began working his fingers through his hair, trying to get the knot out, there was a tremor to his hands and a jerkiness to the movement of his arms that made the motion frantic even if it was slow.
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"You had Muraki..."
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