Seijuro woke to the quiet hum of machinery and the faint chemical scent of antiseptic. Soft neon strips glowed along the edges of the ceiling, bathing the medic wing in pale blues and violets, calm colors meant to ease overstimulated tenebris channels. He blinked groggily. Something metallic squeaked. He slowly turned his head.
A tiny round robot with stubby legs and oversized camera eyes crouched behind the curtain like a child caught sneaking cookies. Its round screen-face displayed a pixelated "(O_O)" expression,
"…Hello?" Seijuro asked.
The robot froze. Then, with theatrical slowness, it lowered its head and tucked its legs under it, attempting to "hide" by curling into a ball. Seijuro sighed, "It's okay… I'm not gonna kick you."
The robot peeked up with a hopeful "boop?"
Before he could say anything else, footsteps clicked toward him. The curtain slid open. A woman stepped in Ruma Quinn, nurse of the Fear Foundation's medic wing. Her presence hit like warm authority. She had brown skin, sharp paired with her hazelnut eyes, and long dark hair braided to one side with silver micro-rings threaded through it. Her uniform was a fitted medic coat with cybernetic stitching along the sleeves, a black undershirt, utility belt of vials and tools at her hip, and slim combat boots that hinted she was trained for much more than bedside care,
"Good," she said with a relieved exhale. "You're awake. My name's Ruma, if you remember, and this is Circo… I was hoping I wouldn't see you again… how are you feeling, Mr Yoshiki?"
"Fine…" He blinked, "How long have I been here?"
"A few hours. Captain Frank brought you here." She pulled out a sleek silver injector, filled with an iridescent teal serum swirling like liquid stardust. Seijuro's blood turned to ice, "…What's that?"
"Standard tenebris stabiliser." She primed the injector with a soft click, "You lost too much. This helps your channels recover."
"Oh." He relaxed. "Does it hurt?"
"A little."
"How little?"
"A lot." She sighed dramatically, like she couldn't believe she had to explain basic biology, "It only stings because it reinforces your tenebris pathways. Think of it like… burning yourself back into existence."
"That's not comforting."
"It wasn't meant to be." She stepped closer. Seijuro scooted back,
"Arm out," she ordered,
"No."
"Yes."
"No, thank you."
"Seijuro." They stared at each other.
Circo watched nervously from the corner, tiny claws tapping together. Ruma took one slow, threatening step. Seijuro reacted on instinct, and bolted,
"GET BACK HERE!" she yelled,
"No!!" He snatched the IV drip stand with him, wheels squeaking wildly as he tore out of the room. His hospital socks skidded across the polished white floor.
Nurses in the hallway froze as Seijuro sprinted past, dragging the IV like a hostage,
"HE'S LOOSE?" someone shouted.
"NO RUNNING IN THE WARDS!" another scolded.
Behind him, Ruma thundered out of the room, coat whipping behind her, "SEIJURO IF YOU MAKE ME CHASE YOU, I SWEAR—!"
"I DON'T WANT THE SHOT!"
"IT'S AN INJECTION, NOT AN EXECUTION!" The hospital wing lit up with alert beacons. A pair of trainee medics attempted to intercept him, he side-stepped, they collided with each other, and one yelled, "He juked me! How did he JUK—"
Ruma pushed them aside without slowing,
"MOVE! That's my patient!"
Seijuro darted around a corner. A cleaning bot beeped angrily as he nearly tripped over it. The hallway stretched long and empty, a dead end,
"No, no, no, no," he muttered, skidding to a stop.
Ruma stood at the entrance of the hall, arms crossed, expression neutral in the way that meant he was doomed, "Seijuro," she said calmly, "last chance."
"I don't want the injection."
"You don't have to want it." Her boots clicked as she walked forward.
He took a step back. She tilted her head,
"Really?"
He tried to dodge past her. She moved like a shadow. In one smooth, frighteningly precise motion, she grabbed him by the collar, turned, and pinned him against the wall,forearm across his chest, firmly controlled. Circo gasped loudly behind her.
Ruma kept him trapped effortlessly. Her expression didn't even change, "You're not the first to run," she said, voice low and stern. "And you won't be the last. But I don't lose patients."
He swallowed.
"And you're not getting up from that bed again," she added, "until your channels are stabilised." She raised the injector, "Hold still."
He braced. The needle hissed into his arm. Burning. Awful. Ruma didn't sugarcoat it.
But her hand on his shoulder was steady, supportive.
"It's done," she said, letting him go. He slid down the wall, clutching his arm, "That hurt!"
"I told you it would." Her tone softened only a fraction, "You'll live."
Circo toddled over and booped Seijuro's leg in sympathy. Ruma stared down at him, hands on hips, "Next time," she said sharply, "you stay in the bed. You listen when I give instructions. And you do not make me chase you through my own hospital."
He muttered, "You didn't have to slam me into the wall…"
"That wasn't a slam," she said bluntly. "If I'd slammed you, you wouldn't be talking."
He believed her. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then her voice softened, just a bit, "Seijuro…" Her eyes met his, "You nearly burned out your tenebris channels. I don't think you understand the severity of it." He blinked.
Ruma straightened, "Now get up. Slowly. We're going back to your room. I'll show you what happens when your channels empty."
She hooked a hand under his arm,not rough this time,and guided him back.
Circo waddled behind them, projecting a tiny hologram that said: "pls behave :)"
Back in the room, she tucked him under the covers with surprising gentleness,
Seijuro lay back in the bed, Circo curled at his side like a loyal pet drone. The stabiliser still throbbed through his veins, but the world had stopped spinning at least. The curtain drew open again. Ruma stepped in, clipboard in hand, expression unreadable, "How's your arm?"
"Sore."
"Good. That means you're alive." She set the clipboard down, "Now we need to talk about what happens if you ever push your tenebris channels like you did today."
Her tone changed, heavier, almost cold.
She tapped the side of his bed and the wall projector activated with a ripple of purple light. A hologram appeared: a young trainee lying on a stretcher, chest barely rising. Purple cracks laced across their skin like shattered glass. Seijuro's eyes widened, "What happened to him…?"
Ruma didn't soften it, "He burned out. Died the next day." She stepped closer to the projection, voice steady and clinical, though her jaw was tight, "When someone forces tenebris beyond their limits, the energy fractures their nervous system. First comes the dizziness. Then the tremors. Loss of feeling, inability to breathe, then, you quite literally fall apart."
She pointed to the cracks spreading across the holographic body, "Total channel collapse. Tenebris leaks from the body, turning the veins brittle. If the heart ruptures…" Her eyes flicked toward Seijuro, "They don't wake up."
Seijuro swallowed hard, "How long before that happens?"
"A few minutes if they ignore the signs."
Ruma turned off the projection, "You were not far from it."
It hit him like a stone. He quietly looked at her. The way she stood with her arms crossed, posture straight, eyes resolute,
She wasn't just a medic reading from a manual. She spoke like someone who had seen it… up close…
"Ruma… have you…"
Her gaze snapped to his. "That's enough questions for today." Not angry. Just final.
"Remember that," she said quietly, "Tenebris is a gift, not fuel to waste. You push too far, and it eats you alive from the inside." Her voice carried weight, heavier than the machinery around them.
Seijuro looked down at his bandaged arms, guilt prickling up his chest, "I didn't know it could get that bad…"
Ruma softened, just a fraction. Her eyes studied him, as if deciding whether he could handle the truth, "That boy in the video was stronger than you," she said plainly, "Talent doesn't matter when discipline is absent."
Seijuro swallowed, "…I understand."
"Good," she murmured, "Because next time you collapse from depletion, I won't be this gentle."
Seijuro froze. His heart hammered. Circo peeked from behind the monitor stand, tiny antennas jittering nervously.
Ruma's eyes narrowed, not malicious, but assessing. He exhaled shakily. She took a step back, adjusting her white coat and the lavender scrunchie at her wrist. The badge clipped to her hip glowed, Ruma Quinn, Medical Operations, but somehow even the way she stood felt like someone trained for more than healing.
Unspoken history lived in her posture,
"Drink water. Slowly." She handed him the bottle herself, watching until he complied.
He nodded, embarrassed at how clumsy he felt under her gaze. Only once he finished did she ease up. Her tone gentled,
"You did well to survive full depletion, Seijuro. You're sturdy. Don't waste that."
Seijuro nodded. Then he noticed something he hadn't earlier, the faint crescent scar near her collarbone, only visible when she shifted and her braid brushed aside. Old. Before he could ask again, Frank pushed through the curtain.
Still in casual uniform, his cloak folded over his chair. He raised an eyebrow.
Seijuro in bed, pale, Ruma checking vitals, and smirked, "Well, someone had a fun morning."
Seijuro shot him a look. "Shut up."
Ruma placed the datapad down. "Captain Frank, he pushed too far. Burnt through nearly everything. If you're his mentor, make sure he learns the difference between practice and suicide."
Frank held her gaze, "I'll handle it."
Ruma nodded, and surprisingly, her expression toward Frank shifted, "Good. I trust your judgment."
Seijuro blinked. He looked between them, curious, but said nothing. Ruma finished wrapping a new band across his forearm, fingers steady, clinical, yet careful. Seijuro watched her hands, mesmerized despite himself. Her touch wasn't cold, it was strong. She stepped back, satisfied,
"You'll be discharged in an hour. Walk around carefully. No training for the rest of the day."
Her eyes flicked to Frank. "Make sure he listens.
Frank gave a mock salute. "No promises."
Ruma smiled As she walked to the door, Seijuro found himself watching the sway of her long black hair, catching light like a blade edge. She tapped Circo lightly as she passed, "Watch him."
"Yes Nurse Ruma!" The door slid shut with a soft hiss. Seijuro stared at the door for a full three seconds,
"…She's… really beautiful."
Frank didn't even try to hide the grin starting to split his face, "Yes, scary, but beauty isn't always safe, is it?"
"Sometimes Captain Frank, I have no idea what you mean…"
Frank rolled a little closer, casual as ever.
"As of now. Ruma is a wonderful woman, she'd suit you well."
"That was not…!"
Circo chimed in helpfully, "Heart rate spiked 37%!"
Frank's laughter echoed through the medical wing.
"It's fine," Frank grinned. "So, nurses? That's your type?"
Seijuro muttered into the sheets, too mortified to argue. Frank clapped him on the shoulder gently, "Don't worry. Bakers are my type if that makes you feel better!" He laughed heartily.
Seijuro groaned harder. Circo patted his head sympathetically. But beneath the embarrassment, a first thread of connection he didn't understand yet. Circo beeped timidly, displaying a happy ":D".