It had been a week before she woke up from her coma. She didn't process anything; the time of day, the month, where she was or why she felt this terrible. Then the memories started flashing back, and she inwardly groaned. Or, she at least tried to. The simplest movements couldn't happen without pausing and gasping and remaining completely still until the pain went away, barely.

You're standing at the edge of the bridge. It's an unusually quiet day, so there are very few cars that drive past. None of them bother to stop and console you. But you're glad, because you don't want to be bothered. Who would want to bother you? You're nothing. You're weak, stubborn, immature, childish, talentless and a waste. A waste of life. You're worthless.

Just the thoughts bring the stinging tears to your eyes. "Fuck," you whisper and harshly wipe away the tears to help clear your vision on the frigid water bellow. Everything else around you is completely normal. The people happily riding their sail boats don't seem to notice you, or try to get your attention. No one would get your attention. And it's the same rotation of thoughts the never stop.

"I'm gonna do it," you choke and your body is quaking, "I'm gonna fucking do it!"

Your feet shuffle closer to the edge and you almost lose your balance and topple over—but you catch yourself on the railing behind you, gasping, and you remain completely frozen. Your heart has never thundered this loudly before, your legs never felt this unstable.

"No…I'm gonna do it. You hear me up there?!" You scream at the top of your lungs to the sky so harshly that they burn. No one pays attention. "Last chance…"

A few birds fly by and the thought of everyone you've ever known and interacted with being satisfied with your leaving fog your mind to the point where the tears sting your eyes it's unbearable.

That's enough to convince you, and you finally let go.

You could've sworn you heard someone screech before you hit the water, and everything goes black.

Even the soft beeping of the IV machine attached to her veins is enough to give her a pounding headache. Slowly and stiffly pulling her hand out from underneath the thick wool covers, the girl lightly brushed her sensitive finger tips to the fresh bandages that wrapped securely around her head; covering her temples, forehead and pinning her greasy hair underneath. She felt absolutely nothing as she manages to wiggle her body an inch; nothing but tiny, cold, sharp stabs of needle pricks everywhere. Every available place of her body is aching, and she curses to herself.

'Who the fuck rescued me…'

"Hey there."

She wheezed and she can't even open her eyes. Her eyelids are heavy and tired, but that voice…that voice that is somewhere around here reaches her ear, and she lazily tosses her head, trying to move in its direction.

"Don't do that, now. You'll worsen your head conditions."

She felt something touch her bottom lip and she panicked for a moment before realizing that it was just her biting it out of a nervous habit. She mentally groaned. The limitations she was under were beginning to frustrate her, and she was going to shift around some more but a hand came to rest on her quivering chest, trying to soothe her.

"Please relax. No need to stir."

The voice is nice, and soothing. It's a male voice from someone she never heard before, but she enjoys it. She doesn't realize it, but her chapped, swollen lips twitch into a tiny smile.

"Ah..." is all she can manage before closing her lips, swallowing her saliva down her parched, burning throat, and barely parting them before she could speak.

"Who…are you?"

She only heard the IV machine beep a few more times before a very chilled, gentle hand came to press the back of its fingers to her flaming cheeks, and the man behind the hand responded calmly, "I'm the doctor, don't be afraid."

She swallows loudly, again, and lets out a pant. "I wasn't…afraid."

And then there was silence. In the conversation, that is. The doctor obviously wasn't up for small talk. One part of her wanted to believe that he was simply busy and had other patients to manage, but the part that took over whispered ever so darkly that he didn't care and was only taking care of her for the money. This left a nasty stinging feeling in her heart: almost as if the IV needles had penetrated into her regularly beating heart. No one else cared for her, why would the doctor? Did her parents care?

Did her parents even know she was here?

"Mom?" she called out hopelessly without thinking, turning her head towards anything that made a sound.

"We have contacted your parents immediately, They should be here shortly."

There were too many questions flooding her already pounding head, so she groaned out the only one that kept bothering her. The one that made her grow angrier and more bewildered by the minute:

"Who rescued me...why?"

"A brave, innocent bystander. And you should be forever grateful to them, mind you."

She considered the possibility that doctor's words were probably trying to be positive, but the tone twisted the meaning of those words. She believed he was making her come off as a selfish, idiotic little girl who needed help from someone better. A tyrant assisting someone helpless. This sent a fire blazing within the pit of her stomach, and she grew frustrated, as her emotions began to show.

"Oh yeah, thanks to that person, I have to live on this planet even longer. Thanks to them, I get to go home and see my lovely family and the people all around me-!" She choked back on the last word when her muscles got too achy from trembling so much.

"This person has graciously paid for your treatment and overnight stay from today into tomorrow until your parents got here, so the least you could do is give them some credit."

This doctor's attitude was bothering her. She didn't like his tone. He sounded snobbish, uptight and mean. Not only was she getting aggravated, but she was getting scared as well. Why was she scared? She didn't even fucking know. But what was she to do? She was stuck in this bed, this hospital, this whole building. God only knows what time it was, what day they were on. She had no sense of the world and that was disturbing and frightening her so much. The only energy she had was the effort to moan, groan and cry. And that's what she did.

"What time...day...oh! Where am I?" Tears filled her closed eyes and eventually seeped through her thick eyelashes. The restraint she was trying to use to hold back the tears was only hurting her muscles more, and the lump in her throat that was there didn't help, and she was struggling to breathe. That is, until she felt something plush lightly dabbing itself around her eyelids to diminish the tears, calming her, and readying her breathing until she was comfortable again.

"No need to get worked up over the time of day." If she could open her eyes, she would've suspected that this man was smirking. "Today is Sunday, September the second, and this is the Ootori Medical Hospital, part of the health care Zaibatsu, owned by the Ootori group."

Now that was a mouth full.

"Sounds...important." She sniffed her now running nose as she listened to the man fiddle with some of his equipment, she thought.

"Could you open your eyes for me?"

The very first pain she felt the moment she woke up were the heaviness and burning sensation her eyes had, and was terrified to even attempt to crack them open. Although when she produced her tears, it seemed to have dulled down the pain, but being so naturally unsure of herself, she refused to obey the doctor's order.

"No," she moaned and lazily rolled her head side to side, "I can't. I don't want to. They hurt."

The doctor coolly replied, "I know they hurt, which is why I need to see them. Please open your eyes, madam."

Madam? As much as she didn't want to admit it, she felt like smiling.

"I...no." Her failed attempt to pull her weak head away from the doctor's grip only made him sigh, so he tried an alternative: intense questioning.

"Does your family have a past of poor eyesight and vision?"

You take too long to think, especially because you yourself need prescription glasses for reading, and both your parents need permanent glasses as well.

"Uh, yeah...both my parents wear glasses...and I wear them for reading, 'n stuff..."

"Were you wearing glasses at the time of your fall?"

At least he didn't say suicide attempt. He has SOME manners. "N...no, I had contacts."

And that was the end of the questioning. She heard him jot down a few notes when she heard the sound of the tip of a pen scratching against the clipboard, but then his hands were again gently cupping her chin, positioning her head to look more upward, probably facing him.

"Being in water with contacts isn't advisable, and it can have consequences, which you probably experienced since your eyes seemed to be very irritated...you'll have to open your eyes for me."

At this point, she knew that this doctor was very forward, and wasn't expecting any other answer. Which irritated her. She really didn't want to, she was afraid it would hurt more than it already did. However, she found his hands to be quite soft, and he did sound professional and all...but she wasn't so secured yet. But she didn't know what else she needed to be convinced that she was in safe hands, that she was going to be okay...

"What's..." She choked on words once she finally began to awaken her eye lids, feeling the muscles twitch as she very slowly, and painfully, manage to let them flutter open as she slurred out the rest of her question.

"...What's your name?" She mumbled, and, while halfway opened, she shut her eyes one last time to regain more strength, and restarted her process again.

She saw light. She saw that window that brought in the light, from the right side of her bed. The drapes that were delicately pulled apart from the window were a lovely salmon. There was a polished table with a flower vase placed right in front of that window. It was all blurry, but she was still able to make out shapes and colors. The IV machine is what she saw next, since it towered over her on her right side. Following the small cord that connected to the machine and into her arm, she noticed her baby blue bed sheets, which were covered in little stitchings that tempted her to run her cold fingers over. They were so warm. And there was a figure blocking her frontal view. A stethoscope, she assumed, was dangling above her, and the owner of that stethoscope was leaning over the bed, on her left side, hands outstretched and gingerly holding her head in his hands. Her blurred vision was finally starting to subside, and every detail was coming together-

The doctor; a man with slick, neatly combed black hair, thin, rounded out glasses that rested at the bridge of his nose, and stormy, hazel eyes stared back at her.

She was immediately hypnotized. She was so distracted, she forgot she even asked a question.

"My name is Kyoya Ootori, madam. And I'm your doctor."

And he smirked...

And with his auriscope in hand and ready to use, her vision was blinded again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

All she did was sleep. Sleep and eat. The meals were unusually edible for hospital food, and then she'd sleep some more. Or maybe watch cartoons...that is, until she would rush to either flip the channel or turn it off when Doctor Ootori would come in. This would commonly result in him raising his eyebrows at her in a flustered state.

He was simply gorgeous. She fucking hated it. Why did someone so attractive have to be paid to look at her? At her deformed state. There was a squeezing in her heart whenever she'd find herself captured by the way he looked. She'd pretend that her eyes were still in pain as an excuse to keep them closed, so she wouldn't have to look at him. But he caught on to the faking, and would skeptically ask if they still hurt, to which she would trail off and eventually mumbled a 'no'. He chuckled at that, and she took a shaky breath in through her nostrils.

Her parents never really visited. They didn't see the point since she was in the care of very talented, responsible Doctors and Nurses that were associated with the Ootori Group, and the Ootori family themselves.

"I want to see my mom..." She muttered out randomly as the doctor was fiddling with the machines or something.

He took a moment to stop what he was working on, and glance sideways at her.

"Would you like us to contact her?" he asked.

She wanted her mother, but she knew she wouldn't come.

"No."

"Alright then."

She lazily tossed her head to the opposite side of the pillow so she wasn't facing the doctor. And then a question popped into her head, and she asked it without a second thought, "What's your mother like?"

It sounded like he scoffed at first, but what he said following that made her doubt he meant it in a mean spirited sense.

"My mother passed away when I was a young boy, as soon as I started elementary school."

"Oh," she whispered and closed her eyes, sighing sadly, "I'm sorry I said anything, I'll shut up now."

"It was an innocent question. There's no harm done." He smiled gracefully, and double checked the paperwork on his clipboard.

"We need to give you a physical examine, just to check for any of the injuries you received when you first arrived here. The nurses will be performing it, so I'm going to have to ask you to strip down and wait with the curtain closed before they get here. You can change in the restroom if you'd like."

She thought about it and eventually nodded her head. As the doctor left the room, she moved her stiff legs over the side of the bed, lifted her body upwards, and slipped herself off the bed. She then proceeded to undo the ties on her clunky hospital gown as she shuffled herself over to the restroom, her IV machine in a cautious tow. She took a moment to look at herself in the wall-sized mirror that was installed in the pristine, pearly bathroom. Her hair looked like a bird's nest full of twigs and dirt. She poked at her tiny muffin and groped at her large thighs and legs that haven't been shaved for a week. Rubbing her hand over her nose to keep her sniffles away, she mentally scowled at her reflection and turned to leave. As she scooted out of the bathroom, she crossed her arms awkwardly in front of her chest, even though it was covered, and glanced around the quiet room nervously. Her eyes caught onto a silver cardboard box, and she was instantly entranced by it. Taking attentive steps forward, she reached out, lifted the box, and was astounded to see a gorgeous orchid pink colored nightgown, stitched with lace and ribbons from the collar down to the chest, and flowed down to stop right at her ankles. It was her exact size as she held it up to her body, cheeks burning from the idea of someone getting her this exquisite gown.

"Who would do this for me?"

There was no card attached, or a tag with her name or a message or the gift giver's name. It was just sitting in a box on her bed, waiting for her. It was all for her, and her heart and stomach fluttered at the kind act.

The nurses came in shortly afterward, and stopped once they entered, stunned at the sight of the night gown.

"Oh sweetie, where did you get that? It looks beautiful!"

Her face heated up again, embarrassed from the praise.

"I don't kn-know, it was…just here, on my bed, when I came out of the bathroom."

One of nurses sighed, and gave a soft look of admiration towards the girl.

"Such a nice act of kindness. If only people were as sweet as this one."

The girl smiled shyly, and glanced down at her body.

"Yeah."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"No, no, no!"

Employees and hospital workers slowed down their pace when they heard a startled crashing ringing from one of the patient rooms. There were murmurs, and a couple of nurses shuffled in the room, gasping at the sight of the girl, collapses in the corner of her room, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears were streaming down her face, causing her dirty hair strands to stick to the sweaty skin. She kept banging her head into the wall, in an attempt to harm herself and the nurses were quick to rush by her side before she tried anything else.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? What did you do to yourself?"

"How did you get on the floor?"

Their questions when unanswered as the girl broke into another violent fit of sobs and quaking.

"I can't breathe," she took big, exasperated gasps in and out, in and out, repeatedly, and wailed to the ceiling, sending one of those nurses out of the room.

"Get that doctor!" She called out from the room, alerting other personal who were around, "Get doctor Ootori!"

After her crying, she managed to completely stop. No noise. No tears. No shaking. Nothing. It was when the nurse that still remained tried to take her by the clammy hand that she lost it again.

"Don't frickin' touch me!" She screeched and shouted as she threw herself on the hospital bed. However, she was so weak and helpless, she slowly slid off the bed; half hanging off with her knees on the ground, as if she were kneeling, her disarrayed bed hair nudged in the crooks of her arms.

The nurse was muttering to herself, "Oh dear, Oh dear..." but was interrupted, and she released a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank goodness you're here, doctor!"

She heard the sound of hurried, swift footsteps that paused right at her side.

"Thank you ladies, I can handle it from here."

"Yes doctor Ootori."

The fear of what he might do to her froze her in her position as she held back her breath. A few seconds passed before the doctor asked calmly, and almost demanding, "What's all this now?"

The tone of his voice sent her over the edge and her entire body erupted in another fit of sobs and chokes.

"I can't...breathe," she gasped out between inhales, gripping her hair so tightly her knuckles turned white, "I can't breathe! I can't do this!"

The doctor bent down on one knee and firmly gripped her shoulder, trying to get her to face him. Once she finally allowed her head to turn and peeked through her disheveled bangs, she met his eyes, stormy and gray, peering over the rims of his glasses.

"I understand you're upset." He stated calmly, stroking her shoulder, "It's okay. I'm here to help, so you're not alone."

His comforting ceased her shivering down a bit, but it made her feel guilty, and her eyes welled up with fresh tears.

"No...no, no...I'm alone, no one wants me. No one likes me." She quickly shoved her fist into her mouth, tears pouring down her cheeks and dripping on her hospital gown. Her saliva began to seep out through the corners of her mouths as the tears kept on coming, and her weeping continued.

"I wanna die."

Her body shook violently and eventually toppled back onto the side of her bed while still on her knees. The doctor's hand never left her shoulder, and his other hand came up to brush the damp hair away from her tear stained face.

"Let's take deep breaths here, okay? Breathe in for four seconds-"

He then held up one thin finger and began counting down at a steady pace, and she obeyed. She slowly inhaled and paused when she saw his fourth finger go up.

"Now hold, for at least seven seconds. Watch my fingers."

He balled his hand back up into a fist and began to recount on his fingers, reaching to seven. Her eyes darted around as she held her quivering breath in her throat and cheeks, her heart pounding.

"Good. Now, exhale for eight seconds. You're almost there."

Again, he began to steadily lift his fingers one by one, counting out loud. Finally, she released the air in her lungs in one, slow breath. Once she finished, everything around her felt calm, like nothing was about to attack her at any moment. Her hands were still trembling, but not as insanely as before. She produced no more tears. Only felt the old ones drying up on her flushed cheeks. Closing her swollen eyes, she felt the doctor brush her hair to the side in a comforting motion, letting it rest on her shoulder.

"How about we get you up on the bed now? Alright?"

Keeping her eyes half lidded, the doctor carefully guided her by the hand and helped her up on her plush bed, under the thick, warm sheets. The doctor mumbled something into his pager, and a nurse appeared a few moments later with a bowl of water and a clean white cloth. The doctor delicately dipped the end of it in the iced water, and slightly dapped her forehead, cooling her down and allowing her to release steady sigh. She wasn't aware, but she was securely clutching the doctor's lab coat as he sat close at her bed side, and laid a damp cloth across her forehead, and wiped away at her neck too.

"You handled that wonderfully, if I must say." he commented, moving the bowl to the nightstand next to her head. It took her a few minutes to process that he said something to her, but he waited patiently and she twitched out a smile.

"Thanks." She lazily swept her tongue over her chapped lips and moved her eyes over at the window, seeing the clouds gathering up in front of the sun. She felt the need to thank him as she thought about her fit of bawling like a child on the floor, and the fact that he had him help her mortified her that she shifted uncomfortably in her spot. All she could muster up was, "My head hurts."

"I could imagine why. You must feel exhausted and hungry as well. Am I correct?"

On que, her stomach growled and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the doctor chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."

"I'll have the nurses bring up your breakfast."

He stood up to leave but her hand was quick, and immediately latched onto his right wrist.

"N-no, stay. Don't go."

The doctor glanced back and peered down through his glasses, amused.

"But if I don't go to speak to the nurses, how will they know to bring you food?"

Feeling like the dumbest person to ever grace this earth, she snatched back her hand and buried her face into her palms, muffling an apology.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you can go. Sorry."

"Don't be. I'll be right back. Will you be alright?"

The sound of his concerned voice caused her head to jolt up, and she blinked tiredly from the bangs hanging in front of her puffy eyes. For the first time that week, she smiled. It was a weary, strained smile, but it wasn't forced.

"Yeah. I'll be okay."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was a rare sight for the nurses, including the doctors, to eat in the patient's room, alongside that person. The three women gathered behind the hospital curtain that blocked off the full view of the guest's bedroom, watching as this young girl lazily picked at her cooked meal, and Doctor Ootori sitting on one of the sofas next to her bed, carefully eating his salad and ranch. They soon scurried away when they were caught by another doctor, and once they left, Kyoya was aware and gave a simple glance towards the girl struggling to get a forkful of broccoli into her mouth without spilling it on her gown.

"Tell me about yourself." He asked, gathering up another scoop of his food, "Is there anything troubling you in particular that you would like me to know?"

She winced, and he noticed, because they both knew this moment would come. The reason for her break down would be the reason for her suicide attempt, which would have to link back to whatever problems she had, and then whatever caused those problems would have to be evaluated-right there. That's one problem already. She thinks too much.

"A lot of stuff." she mumbled as she played with her mashed potatoes, "Starting a new school...no friends, already below average grades...don't act like my age..." Her voice dragged on with each example, and soon came down to incoherent muttering under her breath. The room was silent but the doctor urged on.

"Are you feeling under pressure? Not appreciated?"

Her heart ached, which meant he was spot on.

"Yeah, um. Sorta like that. It's difficult but then it's...not. But I can sum up all my problems easily."

"Oh?" He placed his salad carton on his lap and looked at her with a clear interest.

"And what would that be?"

Her head was resting back on the pillow, now staring at the food she lost appetite for. Slowly rolling her head to face the doctor, new tears began stinging her eyes as she hesitantly opened her mouth and half whispered, half croaked out,

"I don't like myself, Doctor."

The man's eyebrows furrowed, displeased by the answer.

"Why do you not like yourself?"

The food she just ate left a disgusting aftertaste in her mouth as she got worked up again; the tears coming back up and the sobs erupting. The doctor remained seated, intently listening.

"I'm just that girl you glance at and don't take much notice to. I'm that girl people see and immediately judge because of the way I wear my hair, or the style of my clothing. I'm the girl who is walking by herself, not because she wants to be left alone, but because people assume I do. I'm the person with no laboratory partner in science classes, the one who is the last person to be picked for any project. I'm the person in the class who sneezes, but no one pays attention to. I'm the person who tried their hardest and even when I'm so proud of what I've done, no one else sees it like that. I-I'm the person who is reassured by others that I'm a great person, but makes me wonder why I'm still so lonely. I'm the girl who wishes she was another person, I'm..."

She breathed out a shaky sigh, her arm now draped across her eyes as he head leaned far back.

"I'm such a failure. My parents hate me, my friends turn against me, and I have no hope for myself. And I hate how much this makes me upset."

Her lips quivered as she struggled to articulate her next sentence. "There are children living in poverty, and dying of diseases, and here I am crying and getting attention like a baby because I'm just not happy with myself."

She finally let her arm drop down to her side with a noticeable thud, sighing loudly once more.

"I wish I could fall asleep forever and never wake up."

And then she inhaled, exhaled, and she was done.

The doctor hadn't moved a muscle from his spot on the sofa since she started her diatribe. She couldn't see him because she kept her eyes closed shut, but he was thinking long and hard. He had his arm propped under his other arm, two fingers delicately placed at his chin in deep thought. The silence was comfortable for him, but her body was frozen stiff in anticipation. She immediately regretted releasing so much information.

"I want to show you something."

She licked her chapped lips and forced her head to roll over, looking up at the doctor with tearful eyes.

He was already standing up, and slipping up his white coat, along with any instruments he held on him. And carefully, he worked the buttons on the cuffs on his right wrist, and rolled up the sleeve, revealing a scar. No, it looked more like a bruise. A bruise that was permanently marked into his skin. It was dark, almost like he was manhandled by another person because of its prints. It started from his wrist, and ran up his forearm and maybe the rest of his arm; she couldn't tell because he only rolled the sleeve up to his elbow. But he leaned over her bedside, and allowed her to examine it. As she did, it sounded like he let out a pitiful chuckle.

"My father expects very much from me. Too much. If I don't please him, he finds a way to change that."

The sight left her mouth agape slightly, her wide eyes wandering around his arm and expression. Soon, he rolled his sleeve back down and proceeded to place his coat and instruments back on.

"We all suffer in many ways. You should never think for a second that your life doesn't matter. Everyone is of value, even when you don't think anyone knows. You should know, and you should strive to look for ways to be happy, even when you can't imagine it."

He fixed the collar of his coat and picked up his black notebook and clipboard.

"I'd like to quote from the famous American Activist and Politician Martin Luther King Junior: 'Only in the dark can you see the brightest stars.'"

He took a moment to pause and spare a glance at the young girl, breathing comfortably in her bed, gazing at the doctor with an awe stuck expression. He simply smiled a charming smile and titled his head.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The young girl unconsciously bit her bottom lip as her breathing now became rigid, but she smiled again. She smiled so wide that her dimples appeared and the wrinkles on the side of her mouth were clear. Her voice cracked as she looked up at the doctor, eyes hopeful.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Doctor?"

Here laid this girl: she hasn't taken a bath in a few days, her hair was mangled and spilled out over her pillow and around her flushed, sweaty face. And through red, swollen eyes, she made contact with the eyes of her doctor and she never felt her heart flutter as wildly as it was doing now, as the man smirked.

"I go to a school filled with wealthy girls and princesses; but you are by far the most stunning woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

Her lips quivered as she hiccupped, and began crying into her hands.

I'm always chasing rainbows

Watching clouds drifting by

My schemes are just like all my dreams

Ending in the sky

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She knew her time remaining in the hospital was limited, because the doctor came in less frequently and didn't have anything knew to say based on her rapidly improving conditions. Other than her stiff muscles from day after day of lying on that bed, she was feeling pretty content. If only she could get off this damn bed.

The doctor observed from the doorway of the bedroom, noticing how fidgety she was getting, how often she was sighing, and the longing look she gave to the activity happening outside her window. He then swiftly made a move to her bed side, slightly tilting over her with a raised eyebrow.

"May I ask you something?

"...Uhu?" She made a questionable noise in her throat as her eyes glanced up at him, her head barely moving from it's position on the pillow.

Smiling, the doctor held out his hand for the girl to take. "Would you like me to accompany you to the Patient Entertainment Center?"

She looked up, her eyes wide like saucers. Steadily, she took his gentle hand, hoisted herself up from the bed, with the doctor's help. The two of them made their way out of the bedroom as he he held her arm and pushed her IV machine, past the information desk and down a series of hallways until he led her to a pair of silver, polished double doors. Carefully stepping in, the girl was greeted with a great mass of people; patients like her, finding every possible form of entertainment, laughing and smiling. Their ages ranged from small toddlers playing with puzzles and coloring books to the elderly petting helping dogs. Everyone was so respectful and polite. The atmosphere was friendly, and she didn't hesitate to take a hold of her IV machine and wondered around the center, glancing at all the possible things she could do like playing with the board games, reading from their library, or sitting at the tables to draw-

Drawing?

The idea caused her to perk up, and she was already shuffling her feet to the wooden tables that lined up in rows, with piles of paper, a basket of pencils, even the little pencil sharpeners had their own basket. The sight made her heart swell up in joy and she was instantly seated properly in one of the cushioned chairs in the middle.

The doctor stayed close to her, but allowed her some freedom to wonder about. He seemed intrigued by the way she seemed to be pulled in by the sight of the artist area and followed her closely as she picked her spot. He helped re position the IV machine was it was close by her, checking the numbers on it, and then sitting himself down next to her. Her hands already grabbed a fresh piece of paper and was now happily moving the pencil around, sketching up a simple doodle that he couldn't make out yet.

"You like to draw?" It was more of a statement than a real question, but the doctor was now curious as the picture progressed, and her noticeable talent began to show.

"Heh, yeah." Her eyes never left the page and the pencil never lost it's graceful flow. She was sketching out a figure drawing of a little girl and a puppy near their table, but it took the doctor a few moments to realize she sketched out fluid bases and details by simply lifting her eyes between the paper and the display. That took talent. She was done in 5 minutes with a rough sketch of the two figures, contour details and cross hatching shading, and he took a keen eye to it. It wasn't until she looked around that she noticed the doctor's eyes scanning the paper.

"Magnificent work."

A pink blush dusted over her cheeks as she looked bashfully into her lap, fiddling with her fingers. "O-oh, thank you." She quickly batted her hand to dismiss the compliment though, feeling too self centered. "But, it's nothing too special. Just a sketch. Anyone can do it, maybe better than me."

The doctor shifted in his seat, leaning his cheek in the palm of his head as that arm rested on the table. "Now I may have been one of the top two students of my grade since elementary school, but I believe art class was the only one I recieved less than a 95 in."

His subtle joke poking fun at himself just made the young woman stifle back a tiny giggle from her hand, too shy to make eye contact with the smirking doctor.

"Do you mind if I can have this?"

The question caught her off guard, and she nervously ran her fingers through her greasy hair in thought, looking afraid and unsure. "Well...I don't really need it, I guess...why do you want it?"

He took a long look at the picture and gingerly picked it up with the tips of his fingers, careful not to bend it too much.

"The way you've captured it so simply. It still has a distinct meaning. I would like to display it somewhere, if you don't mind that either."

Her words were caught in her throat as she stared up at him, astonished. The compliments cause her heart to flutter, and to continued starring at him, stupidly. And then she grinned, stupidly.

"Sure. I don't mind at all."

Some fellows look and find the sunshine

I always look and find the rain

Some fellows make a winning sometime

I never even make a gain, believe me

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She remained hospitalized for two more days after that, and even then, she saw less and less of the doctor since she indirectly drew that picture for him. All she knew was he eventually prescribed her some medication to help with her depression and future anxiety attacks, which she was internally grateful for. She mostly saw the same nurses circling in throughout her days, assisting her to the bathroom if she needed it and returned her to the entertainment room. She sorta wished the doctor came back with her. But she was too shy to ask, so she kept her mouth closed. Just imagine how devastated she felt when she was told by an overly cheery nurse that she was going to be released in the morning.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When she exited the bathroom, she took a good look at her hospital room and felt her heart sink down to her stomach. It looked so different from they way she had it during the time she was bed ridden. All her belongings were already packed in her limo, her parents were waiting down the hallway (probably impatiently) for her...and even though all her serious injuries have healed, an aching pain in her heart made her cringe. She was so accustomed to this little room and all the nice doctors and nurses. She was dreading to face any of "friends" or family members, who will do nothing but ask her how she's feeling out of pity, maybe ask her if there's anything they could do but won't really do. Whatever, she was over thinking it.

She stood by the entrance of her room and sighed. With her hair all clean and soft pulled back into a loose french braid, a large cotton sweater, leggings, and the slippers given to her by the hospital, she took one last survey of the room, turned around and slowly left. She dragged her feet to the front desk where her mother was casually chatting with one of the nurses and smiled awkwardly, giving a little wave to gain her attention. "Hey."

The mother let out a 'tsk', rolled her eyes and laughed teasingly, jabbing her daughter in the arm. "Took you long enough, kiddo. At least I can see you smile for once." After that remark, her mother placed a gentle hand on the nurse's shoulder, muttering loudly. "She hardly smiles at home, ya know? Who whould've thought she would manage to crack one in a place like this? Am I right?"

The mother cackled, the nurses smiled a little and her daughter didn't smile at all. She didn't pay attention to the comment all that much, but rather, was thinking over an idea she couldn't get out of her mind. She went back and forth about whether she should do it or not, but she finally decided when she noticed her mom was never going to stop talking anytime soon. Escaping her mother's view, she half jogged half shuffled over to the front desk and hesitatingly leaned forward and whispered:

"Co-could I speak to Doctor Ootori...please?"

The older woman blinked and held a hand behind her ear, signalling the girl to speak up. "Excuse me? Could you repeat, please?"

"U-uh," she swallowed and asked in a louder, more trembling voice. "Can I please talk to Doctor Ootori? Like, could you call him down? Just for a minute, I-I swear."

Nodding, the wrinkled woman pressed a manicured finger on a button and leaned down into the speaker, which sounded down every hallway and room in the building.

"Doctor Ootori Kyoya to the front desk, level 2. Doctor Ootori Kyoya to the front desk, level 2."

The girl nervously licked her dry lips and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears and stood back a few inches from the desk, looking down at her feet and waiting patiently for the young doctor. But her mother caught sight of her and ordered her over.

"C'mon hon, time to go. The limo is waiting and you've been stalling forever."

She's been stalling? "Oh, but mom, I'm...waiting for someone."

Her mother gave her a dumbfounded look, and placed a hand on her hip, looking impatient. "For who, hon? We can't wait any longer."

Her heart began to race when her mother's tone rose, and her palms became sweaty with every passing second. She began to fear that he was never going to come and she would just make a fool out of herself, like usual. "No please, mom, I...just a few more minutes, okay?"

"No. We have to go. Let's go!" Her mother snapped her fingers at her, like a dog, and ordered her over. "Or I'm leaving without you."

"Mom, stop-"

"Well, well. I forgot today was the day you were released."

The girl swirled around on her heels and beamed brighter than she was planning. Her doctor strolled over to the two girls, clipboard tucked in his arm and a charming smile gracing his lips. "I must say, you've certainly improved since you first came here."

Her mother was taken back, looking the man up and down skeptically. "Aren't you awfully young to be a doctor-"

"Were you the one to call me down?" The doctor completely ignored and talked over her mother's voice, which caused the young girl to start giggling while leaning back and forth on her feet.

"Um...yes, I only wanted to...um." She gazed up at him, biting her bottom lip and restraining herself...she seemed tense and anxious just looking at him. "I'm..."

He remained standing there until her two little arms threw themselves around his waist, catching him off guard. Blinking a couple times, he looked down at the girl as she kept her head nestled into his stomach.

"I'm gonna miss you so much."

The two attracted a scene for they were standing in the middle of a hallway in a busy hospital, but she didn't notice. She couldn't see and she didn't care. She kept herself hugging the doctor closely until she felt him chuckle. He rested his hands on her shoulders, gently prying her off but not too far; just enough to lean down to her height and looking her in the eyes.

"You were certainly one of my favorite patients I've ever had, and it will definitely be quite lonely here once you leave."

The emotions started rushing to her and couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. She nodded frantically at his words and gripped the rim of her sweater. "Thank you. I-I'm sorry I don't have anything else to say, I'm p-probably wasting your time, but...I feel so happy now." She laughed at herself and rubbed her eyes with her palms until she felt a tissue being nudged into her grip.

"No need to cry," he soothed, "I have a feeling we'll meet again eventually."

Those words made her heart flutter before she blew her nose and smiled up at him. "Thank you...I hope we will too."

The doctor closed his eyes and smiled at her, and for a brief moment their hands had brushed up against each other, and she felt something else being nudged between her fingers. She snapped her head down, saw him slipping her a piece of paper, and quickly looked back up, surprised and he then turned towards her mother and bowed politely. "I apologize for any inconvenience we have caused you. You have a lovely daughter and should be proud by the marvelous progression she made."

Her mother shrugged and smiled slightly, bowing her head in return. "Thank you very much, sir. Thank you for watching over her. Have a great weekend!" Reaching her hand out, her mother carefully guided her daughter away from the doctor, and she glanced back at him, smiling, before he turned around and began walking down the opposite side of the hallway. And then he was no where in sight.

Once the girl and her mother reached their limo parked at the front entrance, her mother brought up the conversation she knew she was expecting.

"You had such a good time at the hospital, huh? After almost trying to kill yourself? What in the world were you thinking? Are you that upset that you had to go and scare all of us like that? For goodness sakes, girl, I couldn't sleep for nights before I learned you woke up from that coma...and your father! Oh if I had to listen to him one more time..."

Her intentions were probably good; at least she was worried. The tone her mother was giving her made her feel uneasy, so she distracted herself by glimpsing out the window in a daze. She didn't realize she was fiddling with the note in her hands, and she immediately broke out of her trance.

She unfolded the off white piece of paper. Written in beautiful cursive handwriting were words she had to re read repeatedly, in awe, before she held the paper tight to her chest and sniffling.

"You are who your are, and there is nothing wrong with that."

I'm always chasing rainbows

Waiting to find a little bluebird in vain

~Judy Garland