As usual, it was easy for Masaru to fall asleep when night finally came, even if the ground was cold and Agumon was a sleep-talker. He started the night off leaning against his follower's back, but before long he was snoring away and sprawled out in an awkward position that was sure to bring stiffness in the morning.
When he did wake up, he felt decidedly groggy, like he'd overslept. He sat up, stretched his arms, and yawned. Sure was warm for the morning, he thought, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
As they adjusted to the light, he realized several things; he was in a building, in a bed, wearing different clothes (what the hell was with that smiley face, anyway?), Agumon wasn't there, the only one of his belongings still on him was his pendant, and… What the hell was this, anyway?! Whoever did this was getting their ass kicked!
He immediately bolted out of the bed and began searching the room, but he wasn't finding anything interesting. Pens, batteries, a journal, and who exactly thought it was a good idea to put a metal flashlight under the pillow? No wonder his head hurt!
"Oi, Agumon!" he called out, searching a little more. There was a closet, but his follower was nowhere to be found. Guess he'd have to look for him elsewhere, and for the rest of his things while he was at it.
As he was reaching for the door, it opened seemingly on its own, and a woman dressed in scrubs stepped in, clipboard in hand.
"Good afternoon, Yuudai," she greeted. "Unfortunately, you seem to have slept through lunch. Will you be going to arts and crafts or the sun room today?"
...Haa?
Her words didn't even register with Masaru, and rather than answer her question, he found himself demanding, "What's another human doing here?" followed by, "What did you do with all my stuff? And where's my follower?!" She had to know something.
The nurse's expression changed to one of pity. "Now, now. I know it can be hard here for new arrivals, but you'll have to calm yourself, Mr. Damien."
"It's Daimon," the street-fighter muttered irritably. "And what do you mean by 'new arrivals'?"
"Your family and friends are concerned for you," the woman replied, "so you've been admitted to Landel's Institute. I can assure you that you're in the best of care."
"Wait, institute? Like I'm sick or something?" the boy made a face. That didn't answer anything! And besides, he sure as hell didn't feel sick. Just what the hell was going on?!
"That's right. We're here to assist you with the recovery process. If you have any concerns, the staff is always open to them."
"But there's nothing wrong with me," he protested. "And what about Agumon? And all my stuff?"
The nurse, entirely unfazed by his complaints, replied simply, "You'll only make it hard on yourself if you think like that. Now, would like to go meet the other patients, or would you rather stay in your room all day?"
Masaru snorted. Was it him, or was this woman going out of her way to avoid answering his questions?
"Whatever, just let me talk to the guy in charge here." They'd have to get things straightened out if they realized this was all one giant screw-up. How the hell had he even gotten here, anyway?
The demand had no effect on the nurse, however, who informed him, "I'm afraid that Dr. Landel is a very busy man. If you want an appointment, it will take some time."
"But I'm telling you I'm not supposed to be here!"
"Resisting will only lengthen your stay, Mr. Damien. Now, shall we go, or would you rather stay here?"
Che, she wasn't to a word a said!
"Fine," the boy agreed irritably. The nurse seemed relived that he was finally cooperating, so he added, "But don't get the wrong idea! It's not like I'll be staying here."
The nurse sighed, hoping that the rest of patients would be easier to reason with.
When he did wake up, he felt decidedly groggy, like he'd overslept. He sat up, stretched his arms, and yawned. Sure was warm for the morning, he thought, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
As they adjusted to the light, he realized several things; he was in a building, in a bed, wearing different clothes (what the hell was with that smiley face, anyway?), Agumon wasn't there, the only one of his belongings still on him was his pendant, and… What the hell was this, anyway?! Whoever did this was getting their ass kicked!
He immediately bolted out of the bed and began searching the room, but he wasn't finding anything interesting. Pens, batteries, a journal, and who exactly thought it was a good idea to put a metal flashlight under the pillow? No wonder his head hurt!
"Oi, Agumon!" he called out, searching a little more. There was a closet, but his follower was nowhere to be found. Guess he'd have to look for him elsewhere, and for the rest of his things while he was at it.
As he was reaching for the door, it opened seemingly on its own, and a woman dressed in scrubs stepped in, clipboard in hand.
"Good afternoon, Yuudai," she greeted. "Unfortunately, you seem to have slept through lunch. Will you be going to arts and crafts or the sun room today?"
...Haa?
Her words didn't even register with Masaru, and rather than answer her question, he found himself demanding, "What's another human doing here?" followed by, "What did you do with all my stuff? And where's my follower?!" She had to know something.
The nurse's expression changed to one of pity. "Now, now. I know it can be hard here for new arrivals, but you'll have to calm yourself, Mr. Damien."
"It's Daimon," the street-fighter muttered irritably. "And what do you mean by 'new arrivals'?"
"Your family and friends are concerned for you," the woman replied, "so you've been admitted to Landel's Institute. I can assure you that you're in the best of care."
"Wait, institute? Like I'm sick or something?" the boy made a face. That didn't answer anything! And besides, he sure as hell didn't feel sick. Just what the hell was going on?!
"That's right. We're here to assist you with the recovery process. If you have any concerns, the staff is always open to them."
"But there's nothing wrong with me," he protested. "And what about Agumon? And all my stuff?"
The nurse, entirely unfazed by his complaints, replied simply, "You'll only make it hard on yourself if you think like that. Now, would like to go meet the other patients, or would you rather stay in your room all day?"
Masaru snorted. Was it him, or was this woman going out of her way to avoid answering his questions?
"Whatever, just let me talk to the guy in charge here." They'd have to get things straightened out if they realized this was all one giant screw-up. How the hell had he even gotten here, anyway?
The demand had no effect on the nurse, however, who informed him, "I'm afraid that Dr. Landel is a very busy man. If you want an appointment, it will take some time."
"But I'm telling you I'm not supposed to be here!"
"Resisting will only lengthen your stay, Mr. Damien. Now, shall we go, or would you rather stay here?"
Che, she wasn't to a word a said!
"Fine," the boy agreed irritably. The nurse seemed relived that he was finally cooperating, so he added, "But don't get the wrong idea! It's not like I'll be staying here."
The nurse sighed, hoping that the rest of patients would be easier to reason with.
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