Broken Like Me

Chapter One: Numb

Why did hospital food always taste like garbage?

Today was Kageyama Tobio's seventh day in the hospital and his forth day fully awake. He had been barely aware of his surroundings the first couple of days with all the drugs they gave him. He didn't even remember much about the doctors he had met. The food was still flavorless mush, with some canned fruit to the side to give the illusion of a balanced meal.

Then again food hadn't tasted good long before he ended up here...

He remembered the days when he would get so excited about the smell of curry wafting from the kitchen. His small legs would take him down the stairs as fast they could in order to savor his favorite meal. He would eat so much at once that he would have a stomach ache the next day.

Kageyama's stomach growled in protest of the memory.
He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the distant past, he needed to focus on his present circumstance. This was easier said than done given his current reality, trapped in between painfully blinding white walls.
Nurses around here would only give him patronizing smiles instead of answers, telling him that someone would come along to talk to him soon. He had been too weak to be moved into the regular inpatient ward, so here he was in his hospital bed.

He could feel the anger well up scalding in his throat, attempting to burn it's way up through him to take control. If he had eaten any of his food earlier he probably would have felt like vomiting right not all over these sickly white hospital sheets. But he hadn't been able to stomach anything worthy of throwing up.
He clenched his fists curling them into the white hospital sheets. He ignored the hiss of pain he felt from his bandaged wrist. The pain only served as a reminder that his own personal failures that lead him here.
His arms felt numb and cold, sometimes he wasn't even sure they were still a part of him, they felt like ghostly limbs drifting at his side. The pain however, was very very real, it always brought them back.
To keep himself sane, he had tried to avoid lingering thoughts of the injuries sealed away behind layers of bandages and stitches on either side of his arms. But considering it was the reason he was here that was incredibly hard, especially with the nurses constantly fussing over the stitches and cleaning the wounds and re-wrapping them.

He gently rubbed circles into his thighs leaving thumb sized indentations. He huffed out a breath he had been holding, he had to calm himself down.
He knew they had him on some sort of sedative or drug because he had been somewhat groggy since he woke up. But it wasn't enough he was still painfully aware of how alive he was.

Then again no medication was capable of making him feel the will to live, these were just the pain meds he had to take. They just made him feel sleepy, not that he was complaining, sleep was his free death trial and he'll take what he can get.

His medical musings were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door, startling him into propping himself up painfully in his bed.
Ignoring his lightheadedness, he gave the newcomer a wary lookover.
Kageyama's dark blue eyes meet with gentle hazel.
The man's face was lit up in a smile that was brighter than the white walls that imprisoned him. Yet somehow, his smile didn't have the same blinding quality, rather it radiated warmth.
His light grey hair was neatly combed and parted, matching the aura of professionalism his stride seemed to carry.
He wore a white jacket with his name neatly embroidered in small blue letters spelling out Dr. Sugawara Koushi.

Hmmph...so he was finally going to talk to a doctor... it was about time...I guess that's what he gets for ending up here on a weekend. He should have planned his suicide for a weekday. Next time, he found himself thinking, pleased with his own dark sense of humor.

"Hello Kageyama! It's nice to see you so awake today. I am Dr. Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga if you like," His smile didn't falter at Kageyama's lack of enthusiasm or response.
He braved on "So I am here to tell you what your next steps are going to be. As you know you are currently in an adolescent inpatient ward, due to your um...medical needs you haven't been able to interact with other residents or participate in usual programming, which is why you will be going into an inpatient residential program starting tomorrow! We think it will be a good opportunity to build good coping skills surrounded with people your age"

Kageyama blinked a couple of times, his brain trying to catch up with all the information thrown at him.

"Residential program..." He croaked suddenly realizing how dry his throat was, his voice didn't even sound like his own. When was the last time he had spoken with another human being?
Dr. Sugawara kindly handed him a plastic cup of water that had been sitting on his bedside table.
The small sips he took were doing little to heal his parched throat, but he finished the cup anyway.

"I don't want to go into a residential program...can't I just go home? I've already been here for a whole week." He said in an attempt at a deadpan voice but his voice cracked in the middle. He wanted to cut straight to the chase. He had no energy for pleasantries.

Dr. Sugawara paused for a minute, as if thinking how best to approach Kageyama's refusal.
"Well we can't release you when you are still considered at risk and I really think this program will be really beneficial for you. It has a really good track record and is actually really hard to get into, you were really lucky that they were willing to squeeze you in."

Squeeze him in huh...more like his parents had probably flaunted the fact that they could pay upfront, no insurance needed as long as they didn't have to look at their son or deal with the aftermath of his decisions for a while longer.
He hadn't heard anything from them since the first day when they were required to come as his guardians. They had awkwardly shuffled into the room, never meeting his eyes, told him they were glad to see he was awake and that was about it.
They could barely bare the sight of him, their own son. They clearly did not want to deal with him or his problems anymore.
Not that he cared, he knew they had given up on him a long time ago and he had shut them out ever since. The less attachments he had the better, the easier it made it to leave it all behind. Not that he ever had that many people he could build close attachments too.

"So I am going to be locked up with all the other crazy kids that no one wants to deal with? For how long?" He attempted to sound as vicious as possible, but that was hard to do from his position weakly propped up on his hospital bed.

Dr. Sugawara's smile finally faltered for a second at his statement.

"This program is a step down from inpatient so it won't be as regulated as your time here and it really tries to build a sense of trust and community. In addition, you will be learning different forms of behavioral therapy that are skills that will help you for the rest of your life. You will be assigned a therapist and a roommate for the length of your month-long stay."

Kageyama was starting to feel a deep seated exhaustion that was more than physical. He was tired already from this short conversation. He was tired of people shuffling him around. He was tired of life.

He decided that the best form of protest would be to sink into his bed and close his eyes completely shutting Dr. Suga out. He couldn't get himself to hate the man who so far seemed to be incredibly kind, despite how rude Kageyama was being.
He knew he had no choice and it's not like being at home was that much better...although at least he would have privacy and wouldn't have to deal with bullshit group therapy.

"I can see that you are feeling tired. I will let you rest for now. I know this hasn't been easy, but things will get better. They really will. I will see you tomorrow to take you to your new room. Rest well Kageyama." Dr. Suga's voice was quiet and solemn as he made his way out of the room.

Kageyama didn't open his eyes until he heard the door click shut. He took a depth breath that only seemed to make his lungs ache for more.

He stared and stared at the ceiling but it was just as white as the walls trapping him. There was one yellow stain in the right corner of the ceiling, that stood out against the stark white background. They he had become well acquainted with one another over the past three days. He was starting to think the stain looked like a grotesque bicycle, it's wheels attempting to push forward, to ride it's way across the ceiling, only to discover that it was immobile and nothing more than an insignificant stain on a wall.
He almost wanted to laugh at how stupid he sounded. If he hadn't been fucked up before he got here, he sure was now.