This scent!
Eiji sat down sharply. He shivered despite the hospital’s heat that baked down over them. Cold killer. Eiji knew he’d be watching his back from now on. He was… alarmed. Alarmed at the misuse of his confused words, alarmed at Meera’s psychopathic glee…
… and most of all, alarmed at the way she took up her paper cutter and lunged...
… Meera idled nearby like a watchful parent, her smile as appealing as her heart-shaped face. This waiting made him hot and edgy. Eiji involuntarily wanted to pull away from the doctor’s gaze but it was strangely reassuring. It reminded him of the way the concerned adults used to steer him to the school to read the lessons back in Shinjuku, years ago.
Eiji wiped his mouth, tasting blood and bile. He felt helpless rage boil up inside him. It reminded him in the worst way of Angkor Wat and the decisions he’d been forced to make there. For the greater good of the CCD, another whole damn city was sacrificed. He’d left many valuable people back there. He was sadly struck by the notion that he’d not be able to discharge his duties without the aid of the wheelchair'd psychologist.
He was unhappy with the fact that Meera gave him homework; he wasn’t used to her being in charge of him and she would take a little getting used to. He sat back and looked round and up into Meera’s arrogant eyes, knowing if he spoke now it would be the beginning of a rant that would quite certainly end with him at the business end of a syringe. Meera made him nervous—there was a suggestion of the most formidable energy in her wiry frame, but she was also his doctor. Shouting at her would achieve nothing productive. He waited for his anger to subside a little.
It irked Eiji that he was forced to read Freud. Forced to go to all these sessions. He felt he should be better now. What irked him more was the notion that Meera was right. He should be here. It went against Eiji’s impulse, because he’d never liked sensei that much either, but it was true. He felt it in his blood. What everybody knew and none wanted to talk about was that this seemed likely to be his lot in life; the war had broken Eiji; wolf-dreams chased him; they lurk; they prowl; they wait.
But still… he was damned any way you look at it.
“My head aches," Eiji said, choosing every word carefully. He coughed politely, “can you give me something for it?"
Eiji pushed back his chair with a loud scrape and rose. “My thanks, Alam-Sama. I have a book to read.” He slipped away, removing himself from the doctor’s presence. Meera watched him go. He wondered what were her thoughts on him?
Eiji Lynx
ooc: great post! we can start another thread or keep the next session here?