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The lights buzzed.
Too bright.
Too clean.
“You had this happen at home?”
Dr. Eita’s voice barely reached him — muffled and distant like it was coming through a wall.
He nodded anyway.
The doctor's pen scratched along paper, insect-thin, irritating.
His feet pressed harder into the floor.
A beat.
The doctor’s expression softened into something unreadable.
Ryuya's lips parted before the silence could settle.
“I think I’ve been patient,”
The doctor looked up, his pen pausing mid-stroke.
“You have been.”
Ryuya's fingers curled into his knee.
“Then why does it keep happening..”
His nails pressed against the fabric, sinking into his skin.
The doctor's gaze lingered on his notes, his brow knitting for a flicker before settling back into professional calm.
"Do you know how long it lasted?" Dr. Eita asked, his voice steady.
Ryuya's gaze drifted past the desk, pulled by the familiar painting across him.
The doctor's eyes stayed on him, waiting.
"Too long." Ryuya exhaled sharply without looking back.
Papers shifted. That useless sound again.
He glanced back — Dr. Eita's eyes lifted as well, lingering for a moment before he leaned forward.
"I understand that it’s frustrating—"
A flare.
“Do you?”
Not a question. His eyes locked in.
"What do you think happens if it hits out there—on the street?"
The words came out dry, flat. They kept pushing at him.
Ryuya closed his eyes, swallowing them down.
A cold, metallic breath scraped through his lungs, dragging up his throat as he exhaled.
"I can’t keep doing this."
His eyes opened again, meeting the doctor's waiting gaze.
No answer came. The room fell quiet.
Distant sounds came through the door — footsteps, maybe.
Dr. Eita’s pen hovered, then fell still.
"..."
The quiet held.
“If we were to change your treatment…”
The doctor spoke.
"—you may experience new side effects.”
Ryuya nodded. Slow, tired.
“Some of them may be uncomfortable.”
“I know.”
A long silence settled.
The room hummed faintly.
Lights buzzing overhead.
Ryuya stayed still.
Dr. Eita didn’t move either, his eyes glued to the file — his expression unreadable.
The quiet stretched.
Something in Ryuya’s chest tightened.
"Alright.”
Dr. Eita reached for a sheet of paper.
Ryuya’s shoulders dropped, a breath leaving him.
“Thank you.”
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead.
"Come on!"
Mina walked ahead.
"Yeah.. Yeah.."
Emi exhaled, basket swinging from her wrist, her own gaze drifting aimlessly through the shelves.
“Okay!”
Emi looked back.
Mina turned to face her, holding up two bags of chips.
"Dude.. Stop.."
“But look, this one feels so emotionally balanced—”
“Shut up.” Chiyo shot back from behind.
“You’re both disasters,” Mina muttered, setting them back on the shelf.
They drifted through the aisles. Emi walked a few steps behind, the others tossing things into her basket without asking.
She didn’t stop them.
Sweets.
Mina grabbed a pack of melon bread with dramatic flair.
“This one’s mine—"
"Touch it and see what happens.”
“Sure, sure..” Emi snorted.
The drinks aisle was next. Chiyo beelined for the sweet stuff while Mina poked at the shelves like a lost child.
Emi scanned the bottles slowly.
She reached for an iced coffee.
“Huh!”
“What?”
Emi held her gaze.
“So you drink coffee like an adult now?” Mina smirked.
“Bro', shut the fuck up...”
She picked a second one.
She didn’t explain and no one asked.
The basket’s weight dug into her fingers.
Checkout — Mina stepped forward.
“You guys are broke. Let me have this moment.”
Chiyo gave her a look. Not teasing.
Not warm either. A second too long.
Emi smiled through it.
The automatic doors slid open with a gentle hiss.
Cold air spilled in.
They stepped outside.
“What now?” Chiyo said begrudgingly.
...
"Now? We go to your place.” Mina replied.
Chiyo said something — quick, low. Emi heard it from just a little too far away. She smiled anyway, feet keeping pace with the others.
“Bro’ I need to get out of the house—”
I’m having fun..
Aren’t I?
Plastic rustled as she lifted the bags.
“Won’t your mom kill you for sleeping out?” Chiyo said.
"—Better than staying home with the parasite." Mina shot back, sharp.
A dog barked somewhere, startling her.
The sound faded.
Everyone kept walking.
My stomach..
I feel sick..
A lump rose in her throat.
"—Emi..?"
Please…
Just let me have this...
The lights buzzed.
Too bright.
Too clean.
“You had this happen at home?”
Dr. Eita’s voice barely reached him — muffled and distant like it was coming through a wall.
He nodded anyway.
The doctor's pen scratched along paper, insect-thin, irritating.
His feet pressed harder into the floor.
A beat.
The doctor’s expression softened into something unreadable.
Ryuya's lips parted before the silence could settle.
“I think I’ve been patient,”
The doctor looked up, his pen pausing mid-stroke.
“You have been.”
Ryuya's fingers curled into his knee.
“Then why does it keep happening..”
His nails pressed against the fabric, sinking into his skin.
The doctor's gaze lingered on his notes, his brow knitting for a flicker before settling back into professional calm.
"Do you know how long it lasted?" Dr. Eita asked, his voice steady.
Ryuya's gaze drifted past the desk, pulled by the familiar painting across him.
The doctor's eyes stayed on him, waiting.
"Too long." Ryuya exhaled sharply without looking back.
Papers shifted. That useless sound again.
He glanced back — Dr. Eita's eyes lifted as well, lingering for a moment before he leaned forward.
"I understand that it’s frustrating—"
A flare.
“Do you?”
Not a question. His eyes locked in.
"What do you think happens if it hits out there—on the street?"
The words came out dry, flat. They kept pushing at him.
Ryuya closed his eyes, swallowing them down.
A cold, metallic breath scraped through his lungs, dragging up his throat as he exhaled.
"I can’t keep doing this."
His eyes opened again, meeting the doctor's waiting gaze.
No answer came. The room fell quiet.
Distant sounds came through the door — footsteps, maybe.
Dr. Eita’s pen hovered, then fell still.
"..."
The quiet held.
“If we were to change your treatment…”
The doctor spoke.
"—you may experience new side effects.”
Ryuya nodded. Slow, tired.
“Some of them may be uncomfortable.”
“I know.”
A long silence settled.
The room hummed faintly.
Lights buzzing overhead.
Ryuya stayed still.
Dr. Eita didn’t move either, his eyes glued to the file — his expression unreadable.
The quiet stretched.
Something in Ryuya’s chest tightened.
"Alright.”
Dr. Eita reached for a sheet of paper.
Ryuya’s shoulders dropped, a breath leaving him.
“Thank you.”
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead.
"Come on!"
Mina walked ahead.
"Yeah.. Yeah.."
Emi exhaled, basket swinging from her wrist, her own gaze drifting aimlessly through the shelves.
“Okay!”
Emi looked back.
Mina turned to face her, holding up two bags of chips.
"Dude.. Stop.."
“But look, this one feels so emotionally balanced—”
“Shut up.” Chiyo shot back from behind.
“You’re both disasters,” Mina muttered, setting them back on the shelf.
They drifted through the aisles. Emi walked a few steps behind, the others tossing things into her basket without asking.
She didn’t stop them.
Sweets.
Mina grabbed a pack of melon bread with dramatic flair.
“This one’s mine—"
"Touch it and see what happens.”
“Sure, sure..” Emi snorted.
The drinks aisle was next. Chiyo beelined for the sweet stuff while Mina poked at the shelves like a lost child.
Emi scanned the bottles slowly.
She reached for an iced coffee.
“Huh!”
“What?”
Emi held her gaze.
“So you drink coffee like an adult now?” Mina smirked.
“Bro', shut the fuck up...”
She picked a second one.
She didn’t explain and no one asked.
The basket’s weight dug into her fingers.
Checkout — Mina stepped forward.
“You guys are broke. Let me have this moment.”
Chiyo gave her a look. Not teasing.
Not warm either. A second too long.
Emi smiled through it.
The automatic doors slid open with a gentle hiss.
Cold air spilled in.
They stepped outside.
“What now?” Chiyo said begrudgingly.
...
"Now? We go to your place.” Mina replied.
Chiyo said something — quick, low. Emi heard it from just a little too far away. She smiled anyway, feet keeping pace with the others.
“Bro’ I need to get out of the house—”
I’m having fun..
Aren’t I?
Plastic rustled as she lifted the bags.
“Won’t your mom kill you for sleeping out?” Chiyo said.
"—Better than staying home with the parasite." Mina shot back, sharp.
A dog barked somewhere, startling her.
The sound faded.
Everyone kept walking.
My stomach..
I feel sick..
A lump rose in her throat.
"—Emi..?"
Please…
Just let me have this...
djinn 🌼
djinn 🌼
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