Fukusha Model Eight – Chapter 29

Blackness is not a state I like to live in for long. Sometimes, though, I have no choice. I would love to say I remember everything between the moment Rin picked me up and when I wake, but I don’t, and there’s probably an excellent reason for that.

Memory loss can be frustrating and maddening.

Other times, it can be a savior.

When my eyes pop open, only half the room comes into focus. I appear to be in a hospital bed, the first I’ve ever been in on Hikari. There were several times in the past when I needed a hospital, but I only ever got a brief checkup from a local doctor. We were always on the run, and there was no time for real doctors, scans, and surgery.

But this time, the yakuza went too far.

The only thing hooked up to me is an IV line. My arm aches as I raise it up to run my fingers across my face.

“Oh god,” I moan, as I touch the patch covering my right eye.

“Yumi.” Rin’s voice comes from my right and scares me half to death. My heart rate and blood pressure soar, alerting the health monitors on the wall screen. Two nurses, a man and a woman, sprint into the room.

I turn my head, and it takes a moment to realize my hospital room is pretty large. Kazuo was sleeping in the bed next to me, and Rin was sitting in a lounge chair near a window, but they’re both on their feet now.

“What is this?” I reach for the patch over my eye, but the male nurse stops me from touching it.

“Don’t, Miss Minamoto. That needs to stay put.”

I let my arm fall to my side as I wait for someone to tell me what the hell is going on. Rin slips his hand into mine. He’s in my blind spot, so I have to turn my head to look at him.

“Please don’t move, Miss Minamoto,” a nurse says, scanning me.

“I can’t fucking see out of my right eye. I need to turn my head to see anything.” The monitors beep insistently as anger pushes my heart to beat faster.

“Yumi,” Kazuo says, laughing, “language.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“Japanese, not English.”

I sigh. I must be on painkillers because they’ve blurred my better senses and forced me back into my old habits of English. Rin moves to the left side of the bed.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yes. Thanks,” I mumble. “Where am I?”

“A hospital on the southern end of Susami. I’ve got you in a secure ward.” Rin’s hand strokes mine.

“Did you pay extra for that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but he laughs, and his eyes sparkle.

“Of course, I did. I spare no expense for you.” He squeezes my hand once. “I know you’ll ask, but Ninjin is fine. I’ve rented a new place a few blocks from here. Kengo is there with Ninjin. He promises he’ll be nice to your dog.”

Kengo’s promises are usually pretty thin, but considering he left Kiiroi Yama to help Rin, I’ll have to give him a bigger benefit of the doubt from now on.

“Okay, let’s get started,” a doctor in medical whites enters the room. “Good to see you awake, finally, Miss Minamoto.”

I’m comforted by his smile and easy demeanor. Not many doctors can pull off a pleasant bedside manner.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three days,” he says with no hesitation.

I keep my swear words to myself. Three days? Three fucking days? I can only imagine what’s happened in that amount of time.

A tōsha projection of my own body pops up in front of me and slowly rotates until the doctor inserts his hands in the simulation and turns it.

“When you arrived here, you had multiple lacerations to your head, neck, and right shoulder, all of which have been merged and speed-healed. Unfortunately, we did have to shave the right side of your head to get to several of the cuts. You had a hairline fracture to your right ulna which we repaired, and two of your ribs were also broken and repaired.”

He pauses as he spins my body and zooms in on my head. A shock of dizziness forces me to close my eyes for a moment.

“Since you were unconscious for so long, we asked Mr. Hara and Mr. Uchiyama about the previous injuries you’ve sustained.”

I swallow as the room grows cold and silent.

“First, there’s this injury to your leg that I found troubling.”

He’s not the only one who finds it troubling. Every time I see it, I gasp and can’t believe that’s my own leg.

“I’ve been told you suffered an injury here with a large metal object which was then removed, and your leg was operated on twice.” He looks up from the projection to meet my eyes. “Is this true?”

I nod, not able to conjure up any words.

“They did a poor job of the reconstructive surgery. If you ever want it taken care of, you should come back to see us here. We have the most experienced surgeons on the continent.”

I wonder how much that costs.

“I’m also unfamiliar with this implant in your arm.”

I clear my throat. “It’s a reproductive implant. It regulates my cycles, stops menstruation, and provides birth control.”

The doctor exchanges a glance with the on-call nurse. “Interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

I’m not surprised.

“Now, we need to examine your head.” I want to joke that, yeah, I definitely need my head examined, but I hold my tongue. The tōsha zooms on three spots at the back of my head, circling them in red. “You’ve sustained multiple concussions which have led to brain damage and altered brain chemistry. I’ve asked your companions about these injuries, and they assure me they were sustained in accidents.” No one else speaks for a few long breaths. “Usually when one of my patients suffers even a very mild concussion, I send them home to rest and restrict them from work for several weeks in order to heal. Speed healing can only do so much, after all. Were you able to rest after these? I’ve checked your medical records, and not one of these concussions was ever reported.”

I lick my dry lips and press my eyes closed. I’m surprised I even have medical records for them to check. “No. There was never any rest. It was either run or die. I chose not to die.”

The doctor folds his arms over his chest. “This is serious, Miss Minamoto.”

“Yeah, no shit. Forget my brain. There’s nothing I can do about that now. Talk to me about my eye.” I reach up to touch the bandage and back along the side of my head. Yep, my hair is gone. Motherfuckers.

Both nurses try to stop me from checking myself, and I swat away their hands.

“Yumi,” Kazuo growls, his father-like voice dialed up to one-hundred percent.

“You need eye surgery. But first, the area around the eye needs to heal, preferably on its own without intervention. You were next to a building when it exploded, and bits of glass and masonry ended up scratching your cornea. Your optic nerve has swelled, too. Once your body heals and rests, we’ll be able to operate. We expect a full recovery, too, but only if you’re able to rest.”

I know full well that I’ll not be able to rest. If these people think I’m going to lie around in a hospital bed waiting for my enemies to sneak in and kill me, then they’re the crazy ones, not me.

“Can I have a mirror, please?”

The doctor’s bedside manner slips, and his face dissolves into annoyance before he nods to one of the nurses. He leaves and returns with a mirror.

It’s worse than I thought. Not only is my hair buzzed short along one side, but a lot of it is also singed and dirty. I have cuts on my head, forehead, and cheeks, and bruises along my jawline. The patch on my eye is gauze, taped to my face. I look even skinnier than I did a week ago.

“Great. I’m a goddamned pirate now.” I sigh and let my head rest back on the bed. “Dad would be so pleased. Do you know how many times I’ve seen Swiss Family Robinson? He was constantly running through the estate with his sword and screaming in some foreign language with a black patch over his eye.”

Though the doctor and his staff stand in horrified silence, Kazuo laughs.

“I don’t know this. Is it a movie?” Rin asks.

“It is,” Kazuo fills in. “From Earth. Late 20th century.”

“Look, I can’t guarantee anything,” I say to the doctor, cutting through my fond childhood memories. “I would love to just sit around and rest, but other people make that difficult. I have a mission to accomplish, and I need to go home. Nothing can stand in between me and going home. Not injuries. Not war. Not even death.”

I try to move the blanket off of me when I realize I have a catheter in as well. Rin tries to draw the cover back up. I look up at him with my one good eye.

“We have at least a day to regroup and figure out our next move. You can rest that long. Mara is outside on guard, okay?”

I want to fight. I want to leave. But it’s just not possible.

“Okay.”

I give in. There’s only so much of this I can take.

“Good,” the doctor says, relieved. “Now, can I get some more information on your injuries, and where you’re all from?” He gestures at his tablet. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“You’re not the only one,” Kazuo says, patting him on the shoulder.