Disclaimers: No own Nuri or Mits. No own FY. No own song. No own good pencil sharpener.

Warnings: Depressing, dramatic, angsty, lalalalalaaaaa.

Notes: WOW!! I’m glad you guys seemed to like the first part of this!! ^____^n I hope you like this part, too. I must make one note: I know relatively nothing about psychiatric practices beginning any time after the Great War. Eheh. So if I make mistakes, you can tell me and I’ll try to correct them. Okie? Cool. ^_^ Thanks, Ryu-chan, for giving your Seal of Approval for the title of the chapter! Woohoo!!! ^____^ Have fun, everybody!

He looked into the hopeful eyes and gave an internal sigh of disappointment.

He hated to think that the simple correction could destroy this fragile connection he’d made. He hated the thought of seeing even more sadness on the face of this emotionally and physically fragile boy. But trust. Trust was the goal, and he’d never earn it by fabrication. So he decided on a middle path, a sort of not-quite-direct way of stating that, whoever Ryuuen had mistaken him for, he was not that person.

"I’m Dr. Yamado," he said again, keeping his voice gentle, smiling encouragingly. "I’ve been assigned to look after you. It’s very nice to meet you, Ryuuen." Myojuan stuck out his right hand for his patient to shake.

The shadow of a shadow of a smile faded away to nothing, and the child before him appeared to deflate, somehow; the eyes dropped slowly to the corner of the bed. A moment of silence passed between them, during which Myojuan kept telling himself to say something reassuring, but couldn’t find any words that would work. Finally, it was Ryuuen who spoke first.

"O-oh," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "Oh. I…I’m sorry." Without raising his eyes, he turned back in his chair so he faced the wall again, this time forgoing his cross-legged position in favor of hugging his knees tightly to his chest, resting his ear upon them. Although his head was turned away from Myojuan, the doctor saw the slight, tell-tale shudder of his back, and realized with a strange pain in his heart that Ryuuen was crying. Trying to hide his tears, but crying nonetheless. And he found that he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug the boy, to hold him close and stroke the brittle hair and banish the sadness from his eyes…which was undeniably strange, considering he’d never felt such an emotional, protective surge toward anything with two legs and opposable thumbs. In the end, however, he managed to repress the bizarre urge, since what would likely be seen as sexual harassment from an authority figure was probably not the best thing for his patient’s state of mind.

"Ryuuen?" he tried again. "Are…you all right?"

He expected silence, but what he got was a little voice so muffled by tears that he couldn’t understand what it was saying.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t hear."

A trembling sigh. He thought he could see the individual vertebrae through the pale shirt as the boy’s back rose and fell.

"They’re not coming back. They’re not coming back and you’re alone, alone, alone, alone…" Ryuuen started rocking slowly back and forth, curling up on himself as if he were trying to make himself disappear.

It took Myojuan longer than it should have to realize that he was talking to himself. The reaction disturbed him, really disturbed him, struck into his chest like an icicle and spread throughout his body. He’d never had to deal with something like this before. This kid wasn’t just having adolescent "issues," as had been the case with all of his other younger patients. There was something really wrong with him, something really, seriously wrong with him, and he began to wonder if he was actually experienced enough to be of any help at all in this case.

Dr. Lewis had said he could back out, if he wanted to, if he felt insufficient for the task.

But…

His heart screamed in protest to the idea. For some reason, it would not let him abandon this boy to the care of another. That frail body needed something solid to latch onto, something real. And he had the strangest feeling that, if he couldn’t be that something, then no one ever would.

Sliding smoothly off the bed, he knelt beside the cream-colored chair and slowly, ever so slowly, moved his hand to rest on Ryuuen’s shoulder. The moment their two bodies touched, the young man grew still, the frantic murmuring ceased.

"You’re not alone," Myojuan said, finding himself reverting to the same voice he had once used when attempting to calm an injured kitten. "I’m here to make sure you’re not alone."

Ryuuen turned his head, now resting the other ear on his knees, and peered at his doctor with eyes that were huge and hopeless and framed by tears. "But you’re not you," he whispered. "You’re not you anymore."

Delusional, he thought. Hallucinations. That’s what it said in the file. What does he see? Something frightening? Something hideous?

"I’m me," he said slowly. "I promise. I promise you, I’m me." He rubbed the bony shoulder in a gesture of comfort; then, tentatively, he reached up to smooth back the hair from Ryuuen’s face. The boy’s lower lip quivered, and he closed his eyes fairly tightly, causing all unshed tears to trail down his face, across the narrow bridge of his nose, and soak tiny wet spots into his white pants. Myojuan continued to stroke the unruly hair just as he would stroke Tama, careful lest he somehow rub the wrong way. It seemed, to his relief, to calm the teenager down quite a bit.

Eventually, Ryuuen let out a shaky sigh and opened his eyes once more. Eyebrows drawn together wistfully, he licked his lips, swallowed painfully, and said, "It would… It would be nice, to pretend you’re you."

For pity’s sake, what can I say to that?? Myojuan thought in alarm. Who does he think I am??? If I let him pretend, he’ll be calmer…he might even speak coherently to me. But that would be like deceiving him. If he puts too much stock into the pretense, how would he react when he DOES realize it’s not true?

But the boy needed all the help he could get, and if Myojuan could help him more effectively by letting him believe he was some sort of long-lost friend…

His patient was now looking at him strangely, having raised his head and relaxed slightly. The painful glint was still in his eyes, his lip began trembling again… And before the addled doctor knew what was happening, he had reached out thin, pale, cotton-clad arms and leaned forward to hug Myojuan around the neck, laying his cheek on the big man’s shoulder, half his body still curled up on the chair. The impulsive gesture reminded Myojuan of a four-year-old girl he had baby-sat for in his younger, less study-driven days…he had only just been introduced to her, her parents had departed, and she had latched onto him with innocent affection, offering a grin and an earnest, "I love you." In Ryuuen’s case, it only served to open up yet another bottle of protective reflex.

Take me away from my suffering, the childish action pleaded. Make it go away… be my friend, take care of me, don’t leave me alone in the dark. And Myojuan responded by circling his own arms around the boy, just gently enough to be felt as a stable, solid presence. If he squeezed too tight, he worried, his delicate charge might break.

"I’m glad you’re here," Ryuuen breathed—sighing again, but this time it sounded almost content—and fell asleep, just like that. His left arm slowly trailed down from Myojuan’s neck to hang haphazardly over the man’s elbow, locking at the joint and sticking out at an odd angle, as if reaching out for something unseen.

//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\*//*\\

Myojuan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stood outside Dr. Lewis’ office awaiting an audience. Over and over again, he went over the events of the past hour or so in his mind, asking himself question after unanswerable question: why did he feel so strongly about a patient? Just another patient, just another job? Why did he feel such a connection after such a short meeting? He should have been pondering what methods to use to try to delve into Ryuuen’s mind, taking his problem seriously, focusing on the boy instead of on the way he himself felt about the situation. But try as he might, the more he thought of Ryuuen, the more he couldn’t help but think of the strange, inexplicable bond between them.

He had taken the sleeping form and placed it gently on the bed, noting—but not really marveling—that it weighed about as much as a very heavy can of soup. He had drawn the covers up over the emaciated boy, smoothed back his hair one last time, let his hand rest on his pale, slightly sunken cheek…and wondered why it was so hard to leave. But he had left, with a word to the nurse in the corridor that his patient was sleeping calmly. She thanked him with a shy smile, then hurried off…probably to get Ryuuen’s IV, he thought, feeling sick.

And now…

The door opened suddenly, and another one of the doctors stepped out. This one was a small man with a youthful face, and he grinned at Myojuan, stuck his clipboard under his arm, and held out his hand.

"Sorry to have made you wait," he said agreeably. "My name’s Kent…David Kent, and you’d be the newbie?"

Returning the smile as best he could with Ryuuen still tugging at the back of his mind, Myojuan shook the man’s hand. "That’s right. Myojuan Yamado. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"Yamado, eh?"

"Yes. It’s Japanese."

Kent gave him an amused look. "Really? Had me confused there for a sec."

The big man shrugged, his grin deepening. He thought he would like Kent, which he supposed was a good start, considering he didn’t know any of his coworkers. "Sorry."

"No worries. Well, probably shouldn’t keep Lew waiting in there too long, eh? Nice to meet ya, I’ll see ya ‘round!" His new acquaintance strode off down the hall, whistling. Myojuan shook his head, then took a breath and entered the office.

"Well," said Dr. Lewis, peering at him over the rims of his spectacles from behind the desk. "That didn’t take you very long! What do you think of him?"

"I…" he faltered, fishing for words.

"Ah." Lewis looked slightly disappointed. "Well, I wouldn’t feel too bad. He’s like that with everyone. I’d hoped, with your background…"

"Forgive me…like what?"

"Oh, you know…" the balding man tapped the end of his pencil on the smooth, stained wood of his desk. "Distant. Unresponsive. He wouldn’t so much as look at poor Barrington, when he had a go. And Barrington is one of the gentlest, most patient doctors we’ve got."

Myojuan tried not to wince. He knew Lewis meant well, but he couldn’t help but feel a little angry upon hearing the head psychiatrist refer to it as "having a go" at helping his patient.

"But, anyway…we’ve a new fellow coming in from the east coast, who’s supposed to deal remarkably well with this sort of thing," the man continued. "So you mustn’t be upset that…"

"He spoke to me," he interrupted, his voice soft, but firm.

Lewis blinked, then widened his eyes abnormally. "What?"

"He spoke to me. He was…very responsive. I want to stay on as his doctor," Myojuan said stubbornly, hoping he didn’t sound too rude. He didn’t intend to sound rude, but sometimes, that’s just the way it came out.

The look of disbelief on Lewis’ face was soon replaced by a beaming grin. "That’s…that’s wonderful!!! Well, well well well!! Congratulations, Yamado, my friend!! You have succeeded where others have failed, myself included!" He stood swiftly, knocking a mug full of black and blue pens off the edge of his desk. Ignoring the mess completely, he hurried around to grab his new employee’s hand and pump it frantically. "I knew there was something about you! Didn’t I say so? I knew it! And in only one meeting!"

Tell me about it, sighed Myojuan to himself. "What’s your normal policy for sessions? I don’t think we ever really discussed that."

"Oh! Dear me. Normally, one or two hours a day, five days a week. The specific times are at your convenience, of course; but a set time every day is preferable, since it gets the patients into a fixed schedule…which, of course, is comforting for them."

Myojuan nodded once, firmly. "Is three o’clock all right to come tomorrow?"

~~*~~

TBC…

Notes: Ehehehe…. ~.~() Ne, Kokkei-san, I know the song isn’t cheesy! ^____^ It’s just my utilization of it as a dramatic End-Of-Chapter deal that is. ^_~