雨を描く

He twitches all the while, however, unable to help it a bit when he’s being slightly tugged. He can’t comprehend why he cannot at least try to control it— sure, he knows it is a result of his lacking mental faculties, but he should be able to help it, anyway. One more reason for him to feel disappointed in who…what he is. His mind in these rare instances is as sharp as it is confused, and it takes very little for Akira to process the information given to him. Platform nine. Five minutes. Yes. 

NO. DON’T DO IT. Don’t go with her; you’ll die…she’ll murder you, hang you from the handrails on the train, toss you on the tracks when you reach Kazoku…~ You won’t make it home.

She imagines herself an un-moving rock in the middle of a rushing river. After a moment or so she is calm and thinking clearly again, and she remembers to consider the man's feelings as well. That's why she leads him towards the wall, where the foot traffic is less concentrated and it won't be so hard to slip through. She looks back to see he has his eyes shut tight, so she takes her time and leads him around all of them. She weaves through the crowd, spotting her path before she makes her move. Knowing she only has five minutes, her actions are done with purpose, and she gets them on their platform with a minute to spare until the train arrives. 

"Sir? We're here." She finds her voice less shaky now, and she's so happy that she could cry. She also doesn't have to yell now, which fills her with relief. "The train is going to arrive soon." She looks at him carefully, taking in the way his hand still clings to hers and how his face seems to be strained. "S-Sir? ...Are you alright?"

"It’s old, I know, but I hope you like it, Kabuto-kun. I play from time to time—I could give you lessons, if you like. Don’t look so bashful, it’s no trouble…"

Caught off his guard by the sudden flash of memory, of the smiling face of a young woman and a small used piano with yellowed keys, Kabuto cleared his throat and jerked back to reality. “I play the piano a little as well," he said without looking at Rinako or adding that he played it mechanically, only ever producing a cheap and robotic imitation of the rich sounds that the woman had made flow from the ancient instrument. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to play again soon. A few days without diligent practice won’t be of much harm."

What the intern didn't know was that her father and mother both believed in practicing rigidly, every day, for an hour and a half. They'd both be upset that she wouldn't be able to and would probably make her make up for it later. But that was alright as well. Rinako would welcome the time to relax and do as she pleased for once. Kami knows that she never had enough time for that.

As he rose, she stirred in her seat, pushing forward so that her little feet nearly touched the floor, planting her clunky rain boots on the pristine floor with a bit of a blush. She has hated wearing the shoes inside and messing up their floors, but it couldn't be helped. She rose and bowed after he did, long hair falling over her shoulders as she also said the proper thank you.

“Ah—” He repressed an instinctive chuckle by passing it off as a small cough. No snickering at the patients. “No, Usagi-san, everything should be in order within a few days. Good as new. Of course, I wouldn’t remove the bandages until you can be certain the laceration won’t open up again.” Kabuto was taking liberties again, albeit subtle and harmless ones, and he knew it, but the doctor wasn’t commenting. “Though I have to wonder why you’re so worried. Is there anything in particular you need this hand for with great urgency?” he asked.

"I'm a musician. I play the violin and the piano... If my hand doesn't work properly, I can't play." She gave the shortest response possible, waiting till he finished speaking. Most people wouldn't associate her last name with the town's famous classical musicians unless they listened to that sort of music. "I'll... do that. Father will be glad to hear it, actually. We don't normally eat such hearty foods and I think he misses it."