(Where's the Walkthrough?)
https://ks.fhs.sh/
Only if you roll initiative.brythain wrote:Does it mean we can now play ninja wizard barbarians if we take enough physical penalties?Eurobeatjester wrote:Updated the chapter to reflect the changes to the class system. Whoops
Great work, I enjoy the large installments every time update.Eurobeatjester wrote:Also, on a somewhat related note, there may be art for this act and moving forward, depending on how a few things line up.
Probably not the quality of the picture posted earlier except for one scene near the end of this act which I can't wait to get to, but at the very least some light sketches
And I'm so happy this has over 9k views, and looking at it last night, a little over 30,000 words.
Small update! This was originally part of a larger chapter but the setting and mood shifts so I thought they would work better as separate chapters. Plus, I'm having a hell of a time writing the second part and being satisfied with it. :grumble grumble: I didn't want the second part of the chapter to hold up the first, so I hope you enjoy!
Act 2: Countdown
Scene 2: A Spoonful Of Sugar
In some small way, it's comforting I'm not alone in trying to settle in to a new home.
My first pet, the goldfish Saki gave to me yesterday, is swimming madly around his new bowl. He's learned to rear up the second before he hits the glass, but he's still wary about getting near the pink plastic plant and pirate treasure chest anchored in the pink gravel at the bottom.
True to her word, Saki met me after class today. I had waited by my classroom door and she came wandering up with a plastic bag bulging at the sides. I could see there was obviously a bowl inside, but I didn't realize how much other stuff was involved in keeping a simple goldfish.
Saki had pulled me aside and very quickly went over all I needed to do, her eyes darting around looking for Mutou or any other staff that may have been close enough to hear. I remembered just enough of it by the time I got back to my room to figure out what I either didn't know or forgot.
My gaze shifts to the items on the desk next to the bowl. One small bottle of water additive. I added a capful to the bowl after I filled it and waited half an hour, per the instructions. Another small carton holds multicolored fish food. I take it and give it a gentle shake over the mouth of the bowl, causing a few flakes to settle on the surface of the water. He swims up to the surface and greedily goes after one a bit too large, tearing a chunk off and causing it to start to sink.
He? Come to think of it, I don't know why I automatically assumed the fish was a he. I mean, how can you even tell?
He stops swimming for a second and seems to stare straight at me, his gills pumping and fins motoring to hover in place. His head turns slightly from side to side, his large eyes scrutinizing me.
Eh, I have a 50/50 chance of getting it right. It's not like many people are going to know about this fish. And it's not like those who do will know enough to tell the difference, either.
I should probably give him a name at some point. What's a good name for a goldfish?
With a stretch, my mouth opens in an involuntary yawn. I idly scratch at the back of my head, looking at the clock and pondering my options for the rest of the day. I don't have much classwork to do, seeing as how most of the teachers today were in the same shape as Mutou and the rest of the class. Maybe I should go down into town to become familiar with it. I only vaguely remember it from driving up the hill to Yamaku with my parents, and it can't be too far away if Saki manages the trip with her cane. Then again, even if it was difficult for her, I doubt she would let it show...
Maybe I should just go to bed early. Go to the library, find a book or two, come back and get a nice hot shower, and read for a while before catching up on sleep. Get a fresh start tomorrow.
Thinking of sleep reminds me of what Mutou said to me earlier today, about Nurse wanting to see me. I might as well get it out of the way. Nurse has been friendly, and I can tell he genuinely wants to help, but I get the distinct impression that he's not someone I want to start dodging.
I rap my knuckes on the door a few times before opening it a crack. “Hello...?”
Nurse's pleasant tone is muffled by the obstruction. “Come on in!”
I open the door fully and step inside. Nurse is seated in his chair, the contents of a folder spread out in front of him on his desk. He swivels in his chair towards me and makes eye contact.
“Ah, Hisao Nakai,” he says by way of greeting. “Please, come in and have a seat. Give me just a second...”
I awkwardly make my way over to the chair across from him, and sit down. It doesn't matter how often these types of meetings take place; I always feel like I'm in some sort of trouble.
Nurse hastily puts everything back into the manilla folder, standing up and moving to a filing cabinet near his desk. A few seconds later, he's replaced the folder in his hand with another one. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I catch just enough kanji on the front to see that he now has my file in hand.
“Thanks for coming by,” Nurse mentions, sitting down and opening the file on his lap. “I see Mutou passed on my message?”
“Y...Yeah,” I answer, that uneasy feeling more present than ever.
“I'm glad you came here on your own. Otherwise I thought I'd have to send Emi to knock you out and drag you in,” he responds with his trademark grin. “Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything. I just wanted to go over what happened at the track in a bit more detail, now that it's been a few days.” He takes a few sheets of paper and attaches them to a clipboard, grabbing the pen from behind his ear. “So,” he asks, “Let's start with the basics. How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad,” I say, trying to relax a little bit.
“Sources tell me you were out at the festival yesterday,” he says. “How did that go?”
"Sources?" I blurt out. "You have sources?"
Nurse smiles. "Well, if you must know, I was a few people behind you in line when you were getting food. 'Sources' sounds so much more mysterious, though."
I shake my head and answer his question, but not before giving an exasperated sigh. “It went really well. I woke up a little late so I didn't see it when it first started, but I made it down and stayed until after the fireworks.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“I did. It was a pretty good way to end my first week here.”
“Good...good,” he says, nodding and grinning. “Off the record here, but I always like to hope people make the transition here as smoothly as possible. I'm not going to drone on with a bunch of boring speeches about how important it is to get back on the wagon and fit in, because I know you've probably heard them a thousand times already. I'm just glad to hear you had fun. That's a lot better than most transfers do their first week.”
The earnestness in which he says that, combined with that disarming smile, finally causes me to drop my guard a bit. Most of the doctors in my life the last few months have been fairly...impersonal. And those that have tried to take an interest in my well being seem to have no problem making the transition from telling me what I need to be doing medically to telling me what I should be doing in my personal life, such as it is. Smile, feel good, be happy I'm alive...all that stuff.
I only encountered it a small number of times in middle school, but there were a few teachers that legitimately cared about their students compared to the many that were simply there collecting a paycheck.
Here at Yamaku though, it's different. Every faculty member I've met so far, from Mutou to Yuuko to Nurse and everyone else, do seem to actually care. When one of them asks me how I'm doing, I get the distinct impression that not only are they asking because of the subject at hand, but they're also concerned about my well-being on a personal level.
“Thanks,” I answer, giving a weak grin of my own.
“So, that being said,” he says, twirling his pen idly in his fingers and glancing at the clipboard, “here comes the unpleasant part that nobody really enjoys when they talk to me.”
I knew it. I groan.
“Hey, don't be like that. You're not here to be harped on, well, much, anyway. I promise I'll have you out of here in a few minutes.”
I nod. “Sorry.”
“No offense taken. Everyone's a little tired and cranky after the festival. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you how it went. I know you said you had fun, but I was wondering if you had any problems handling it from a physical aspect. Any chest pains, shortness of breath, that kind of thing?” Nurse asks, his pen poised to write down anything I might say to answer that question.
“I walked around a bunch, but I didn't have any problems with it.” If anything, I'm surprised I didn't have any problems helping put together that stage. Some of those pipes were damned heavy.
He makes a note on his paper. “So besides what happened running on the track earlier this week, you haven't had any other issues?”
“No, none.”
He makes another note. “Good,” he says. “Coming out of a long, sedentary hospital stay is always a bit tricky. You never quite know how long it can take to adjust to being physically active again. And you seem to have been dropped in during one of the busiest weeks for students. How are your medications now that you're no longer chained to a bed? Any side effects or problems there?”
I'm glad he brought it up, because I wasn't quite sure how to ease into it. “Well, there is one thing I wanted to ask about,” I answer. “I'm having some insomnia and I'm not sure if it's just from adjusting to everything going on, or if it's because of my medication...”
“Hmmm,” Nurse replies thoughtfully, tapping his upper lip with the tip of his finger. “Either one of those could definitely be the culprit.”
Thanks. That's really helpful.
“I was wondering if there was anything else I could be doing,” I explain. “Maybe eat or drink something. I had thought about maybe taking a sleeping pill, but I thought it would probably be best to ask you about it first...”
“I'm glad you did,” he says approvingly. “Bad things can happen when someone tries to self-medicate,” he elaborates with another wink. “How bad is it?”
“It's been getting worse throughout the week. I've been waking up earlier and earlier and I can't seem to go back to sleep, even when I know I can get another hour or two.”
“Never been an early riser?”
I shake my head.
Nurse makes another noncommittal noise, putting the pen behind his ear and flipping through the sheets on the clipboard once more. I see his eyes skimming the papers, stopping occasionally when they find whatever he's looking for. A few moments go by, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth as he turns a few things over in his head.
“Well, this puts us in a bit of a quandary, Hisao. A low dosage sleeping pill might help, but that brings up some other problems.”
“Go on,” I say. I'm not sure I like where he's going with this.
“Adding another medication to the list of pills you're already taking could cause issues, especially with the side effects that could pop up. For example, if we combine your beta blockers with sleeping medication, the combination of the two might lower your blood pressure too much.”
Something about what he just said doesn't make sense. “I thought the less my heart was strained, the better.”
Nurse puts the clipboard down at his desk and studies me for a few seconds. His gaze is piercing and I want to squirm. It's scary how he can let that aloof facade drop from time to time. Just those subtle hints make me truly want to never see this man's anger directed at me.
“The doctors who gave you your medication and instructions to take them. Did they ever explain why you were on those specific medications or what they do?”
“Yeah, they did.”
“In small words?”
(continued...)
I wince. They did explain it to me, but the terms they used were so complicated it went right over my head. The only thing I really remembered was how many to take and how many times a day to take them.
Of course, my mood at the time probably didn't help at all.
“Not...exactly.”
“Alright then,” Nurse starts, picking up the clipboard and scrutinizing it. “You're on four main types of medications right now. The first is an antiarrhythmic. Those tend to slow down the heartbeat by impeding the electrical impulses in certain types of heart tissues. It keeps those areas of the heart from beating too fast so your heart actually pumps instead of just vibrating in your chest. With me so far?”
“That makes sense,” I say, nodding.
“Alright. Those medications help to keep your heart working steadily. The other three are to make the work easier. You're on a calcium blocker, which stops calcium from getting into the cells of your heart and blood vessels. This relaxes those vessels so they're wider and allow blood to flow more easily. You're also on a beta blocker, which blocks adrenaline and keeps you calmer so you won't get stressed as easily and have another attack. Those two things work together to lower your blood pressure and keep your heart from working too hard.”
Nurse looks over the top of the clipboard at me to make sure I'm following this. I nod again. I think I've heard this explanation before, but it wasn't put to me as simply as that. Even as I start to understand it better, I'm still not sure where a sleeping pill ends up throwing a wrench into it.
“The last medication you're on is a blood thinner that makes it harder for your blood to clot. I don't think you really need it, but then again, I'm not your doctor,” he says with a smirk.
“Why do you think they have me on it then?” I ask, puzzled.
He furrows his brows and settles into a thinking pose. “Arrhythmia is a tricky thing. Once the immediate problem is identified, everyone with it responds to treatments differently. Anti-arrhythmic medications can be pretty temperamental. In some cases the wrong one can make it worse. So the idea with medical treatments is to basically throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. Modern medicine is great, isn't it? The blood thinner's a great example. It's standard procedure to give to patients with circulatory related issues to keep the whole system working as little as possible while they figure out what the real problem is. You had your attack, what...four months ago?” he asks, rustling papers as he searches for his answer.
“Four and a half,” I correct him.
“According to this, the doctors are amazed you went so long without having any problems, right?”
“Lucky me,” I say bitterly. I'm not enjoying this line of conversation. It's quickly draining the good vibes the last week has been building up in me.
“I see,” Nurse muses, frowning again. “Well, right now you're in a kind of balance with your medication. What you're on right now seems to be working, but that doesn't mean the medication you're on could be the best combination for you. So your doctors want to take it slowly as you adjust back to normal life, and only make small changes to see how you react.”
“Great,” I say with absolutely no enthusiasm. “So, that's why you're taking such a vested interest in my well being?”
All sense of humor drops from his face, as if a switch has been flipped. He looks at me sternly. “I care about the health of all the students in this school. If the students here can get better, I do everything I can to help them with that. I care about your health too, Hisao. That way, at least one person does.” The expression cracks a bit as his smile starts to show. “But yes, I do have to check in with the puppetmasters from time to time.”
“I'm sorry,” I say, feeling embarrassed. “I didn't mean-”
He stops me with a wave of his hand. “It's alright. Don't worry about it,” he says, completely back to normal, or whatever passes as normal for him. “Anyway, as I was saying. The blood thinner is probably unnecessary, but it's not up to me to make that call. But one thing your doctors and I are in agreement on is that you should be getting some light exercise.”
I groan, remembering my run with Emi and the small episode it triggered. “I tried that, remember? It didn't go so well.”
“The problem is, with all the medications you're on, they take a huge load off your heart but at the same time do nothing to actually strengthen or improve it. In fact, the cocktail of pills you swallow every day might end up being harmful in the long run because your heart might get too weak, not to mention the other side effects that might happen as you get older. Maybe jogging is a bit too much for you right now. Anyone who just spent four months in a hospital would probably have a hard time with it, regardless of if they had a heart problem or not,” Nurse finishes.
“And trying to keep up with Emi didn't help either,” I grumble.
This draws a laugh out of him. “No. I'm not allowed to show favoritism, but if I was, she's probably the fastest thing in this school. Don't even try to keep up with her, nobody else can.” The easy laughter brightens my mood somewhat. Nurse's attitude is definitely infectious.
“What else would you recommend?” I ask. “If I can't go running, I'm not sure what else I can do.”
Nurse looks thoughtful for a second. “You could try swimming. Doing laps can be a great workout without putting much strain on the body. We use swimming here for all types of therapies just for that reason.”
“I could try that,” I say hesitantly. “I'm...not much of a swimmer though, and...well...” I let my voice trail off as concern about my scarred chest permeates my thoughts. Nurse furrows his brow for a second, casts a quick glance to my chest, then seems to understand my uneasiness.
“Ah, the scar? Don't worry about it. You can wear a shirt if you want, as long as it's not a suit jacket or something. You could also go early in the morning, since you seem to wake up so early. There's only a few students who use the pool before classes start. It might help with your sleep problems, too.”
The ease with which he seem to dismiss my concern as no big deal doesn't shame me as much as it would have a week ago. Instead, I'm starting to learn I shouldn't really chastise myself for these thoughts as much as I have been. While I'm making an effort to not have them as often, I realize that no amount of self reflection is going to take the place of time and experience. Talking with everyone this last week has shown me that.
And then another thought pops into my head.
“I don't own any swim trunks,” I mention.
“Okay, now that one you should worry about. I can't recommend you go wearing only a shirt to the pool,” Nurse says with a mischievous smirk. “If you want, you can use your track shorts until you can get an actual pair. It's not like you're using them for track, right?”
No, I wouldn't be, would I? Not for lack of trying, though...
“The town has a few smaller stores but I don't think there's anywhere you could get a set of trunks,” Nurse continues. “The city should have what you're looking for though.”
My ears perk up. “That would work really well,” I say. “I'm actually supposed to go into the city later this week with some friends.”
Friends? The use of the word makes me pause. Would I actually call Chisato and Saki friends after only one week? After the festival, our morning walks, the fireworks, I realize I don't know as much about the two of them as I would like to.
And yeah. I would consider calling them friends at this point.
Nurse senses my mood and meets it with a look of amusement. “Good!” he exclaims enthusiastically. “That's another thing I was worried about. It's good to see you're being social.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh come on, did my doctors ask you to put that in my report too?”
He laughs. “No, that interest is purely selfish and personal.” He turns his back to me as he unclips the papers and goes to put them back in my file. “There's a lot more to being healthy than just keeping your body in shape, you know.”
I watch as he opens a cabinet above his desk, searching for something. He traces a few boxes and bottles with his fingers, finally pulling down a small container. “In all seriousness though, the powers-that-be are going to expect to see that you're getting exercise my report.”
“Uh huh...” I say, hesitantly. I don't know exactly where he's going with this.
Nurse palms something from the box and puts it back in its place on the shelf before turning around to face me. He sits down in his chair again, crossing one leg over the other.
“Here comes the part I know you're not going to like, so I'll put this as plainly as I can, Hisao. Your doctors and I want you to get into some sort of workout routine. I know I sound like a broken record with this, but if you can't come up with something on your own, we may have to set you up with one of the physical therapy programs here at the school.”
My jaw drops in shock. Before I can answer he continues.
“I said when you first came here that I didn't think you needed it, and I still don't. I understand that running with Emi didn't work out, at least not yet. So, I'll make you a deal.” He holds up his hand, revealing a blisterpack with two small pills barely larger than grains of rice. “This is a very low dosage of sleep aid medication. If you promise me you'll go to the pool sometime tomorrow, I can let you try this out tonight, and we can see if it helps with your insomnia. A dose this low shouldn't interfere with your other medications, and you can come to me tomorrow after class and let me know how the medicine and the swimming both worked out. Deal?”
Oh god, anything to keep me out of therapy. I had enough of that while I was in the hospital. Long hours in bed moving my arms, or in what passed as the hospital's “gym.” I considered it a personal victory when I didn't have to do that anymore.
“Alright,” I say, holding out my hand for the pills. “I'll swing by the pool tomorrow morning.” Nurse places the small packet in my palm. “That is, if I can wake up after taking these.”
“That's what your alarm clock is for,” he counters with a wink. “No excuses.”
Thank you for the compliment. I did a lot of research on Hisao's condition as there are many different causes and types of arrhythmia. I looked up what types require medication but not a pacemaker, and what types of medications there are.Mirage_GSM wrote:This is the most realistic description of Hisao's medication I've encountered so far in KS-fiction - as far as I can judge as a non-professional.
Also probably the first time someone acknowledges that Nurse is a nurse and not a doctor
I'm curious to see how the swimming works out. Are you going to borrow Joyce?
Ah. I think I mentioned it earlier but I haven't read Tomorrow's Doom yet.TheTealeaf wrote:I think Mirage is referring to the life guard that appears in Helbereths story "Tomorrows Doom"