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Emi is my favorite girl. This is my Emi fic. It had to come around eventually.

(Un)broken: An Emi Prologue

Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Zero
Chapter 2: Awake
Chapter 3: Phantom
Chapter 4: Falling After You
Chapter 5: From Ashes
...

Chapter 1: Zero
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Blood pulses through the veins in her ears loudly enough for her to hear it. Her breathing is heavy, pulling in as much oxygen as possible for fuel. The sound of quick footsteps echoes around the track, but she is not the only source. A man runs up ahead: her father, a man of determination, independence, and hard effort.

He spins around, easily matching her pace, even while propelling himself in reverse. His voice rings through the still morning air, calling out to her. "Push it, Emi! Push it harder! Faster! You can do this!"

Her short legs are already moving as fast as she can muster. She is only eleven, after all. To match her father's speed, a man three times as old and almost twice as tall as her, would be nothing short of incredible. The sweat drips from her forehead in a futile effort to keep her skin cool. "I can't!" she yells between pants. "I can't do it, Dad..."

His expression turns from a hopeful smile to a disappointed scowl. That answer was simply unacceptable. "Nonsense, Emi. Look at yourself. You're already doing it."

She tilts her head down. Her legs are still moving, pushing her frame forward one step at a time. A smile carves into her face, and she understands. A new wave of inspiration surges through her; she picks up more speed. The sapphires in her father's face glimmer with pride. "That's my girl," he whispers as she catches up to him in a full-on sprint.

Of course, he is capable of much more than she is. He accelerates back into his normal running pace, almost presenting another challenge for his daughter. He doesn't expect her to meet it. He's been running longer than she's been alive. Always put it out of reach, he thinks. Make her strive for something, so she'll always keep improving.

Emi's footsteps slow as the last of her energy begins to subside. The difference is audible, and the man comes to a stop. He walks over to her, the only sign of exertion a thin layer of sweat on his jaw line. She, on the other hand, is sitting on the ground, gasping for air.

He gives her a gentle pat on the head, smiling and ruffling the light brown hair held back in twintails. "Good effort, Emi." She looks up into his eyes. "I'm very proud of you." The happiness in her wells into a toothy grin of her own.

"Thanks, Dad," she responds, which he answers with a laugh. He shrugs the small runner's backpack off his shoulders and pulls out a sports bottle filled with water. He takes a quick swig of his own, then hands the remainder to her. "Drink up. You need to stay hydrated." She does what he says, practically drowning herself in it. "Not that much!" he exclaims. "We don't need you getting sick!"

She just giggles in absolute bliss, and he laughs in return. His hand extends in front of her face. She takes his offer and rises to her feet, dusting off her chest, legs, and rear. The light touch of her father hits her shoulder. "C'mon, kiddo," he says. "Let's start heading home."

Their trek back to the car is rather ordinary. They banter back and forth, making jokes and telling stories. She talks to him about school, her friends, and her grades. One classmate in particular is a favorite subject of hers.

"So...," she starts, rather timidly. "There's this... boy." Her face turns red as she thinks about him. She covers her face in her hands to try and hide the blushing.

"A boy, huh?" her father asks, speculative. She is getting to that age, isn't she? he asks himself. "Tell me about this boy."

"Well... he's a little taller than me, kinda cute, and really~ smart." The joy drips from her voice, and she bounces up and down in excitement. "He always gets the highest grades on our tests. And he likes to draw. He drew me a picture once! I'll have to show you when we get home, it's still in my backpack."

He smiles. It's good to see her care so deeply about someone. She's always been the popular type, but never one to make many real friends. "I'd like that," he responds. "What's his name, if I might ask?"

She giggles, bringing her hands tight to her chest. "Ryota~."

The name takes him a bit by surprise. "Same as your old man, huh?" She nods, grinning from ear to ear. It's sickeningly adorable. Why can't she stay this way forever? he wonders. She's already growing up, quicker than I had hoped. How time flies. "Well, maybe we can have him over for dinner one night. If you like him that much, I'd like to meet him."

"He... he wants to meet you, too," she says, rather embarassed. "I've told him all about you and Mom. He already loves you guys."

A hearty laugh escapes his throat. "Already close enough that you can talk about us? Aren't you the little flirt?" Her face fills with crimson, eliciting another chuckle. His hand meets the top of her head again, and she joins his mirth as he twists his fingers through her hair.

I really do have the best dad, she thinks. I'm such a lucky girl.

They reach the parking garage and find the family car: a short, silver sedan. It's just big enough for their entourage of three to get from place to place, but small enough to be practical on the crowded Japanese streets.

Ryota throws their bags into the back seat and climbs in front of the wheel, making sure that they both buckle their seatbelts. With a twist of the key, the car ignites. The driver shifts it into gear, and they exit the parking garage.

Their drive is mostly silent, save for the musical sounds of contemporary American alternative. It's a taste her father picked up from a co-worker recently. He became particularly fond of the grunge movement and all the music they inspired.

But he has this biting feeling in his gut that he should talk to his daughter more. They're already so close, what more could they talk about? They come rolling to a red stoplight, first in line for the green. A thought hits him. "Did I ever tell you how I met your mother?" He looks over his left shoulder, and she shakes her head at him.

The memory starts to come back, as if it were yesterday. It's such an important day in his life, it's practically etched into his mind. "I was running one afternoon during my high school years. Our track team was very tough. Coach made sure we ran thirty-minute sprints twice a day, bare minimum." He bares his teeth at the thought of his wife all those years ago.

"I spotted her. And she spotted me. She was so graceful as she walked... an angel, really. I raced over, across the street, dodging car after car, just to talk to her. And we hit it off. Or, she thought I was charming, at the very least. So, I asked her out to dinner." Emi notices his eyes glimmering again; they always do that when he's happy. "She accepted. And... the rest is history."

The traffic ahead of them moves onward, vehicles rushing through the intersection almost mindlessly. Ryota opens his mouth again. "You remind me so much of her, kiddo. I hope you grow up to be as strong as she is."

Their light turns green. He puts his foot on the gas pedal, and the car accelerates in turn. "You should never give up, Emi," he mutters. "You can always try harder."

He looks over at her quickly, only to see her eyes widening.

His own pupils follow her gaze to their right, and he catches the same sight: another car racing toward them, too fast to stop.

Ryota stares like a deer in the headlights. He knows what's coming. Over the course of the next few seconds, his last ones, memories flash in front of him. Each of them is as vivid as the last, and he can make out each and every detail. Meeting the love of his life. Their marriage and honeymoon. The birth of their daughter. All of their shared family experiences.

They will soon be gone.

He holds his arms toward the car door instinctively, as if he can brace himself for the collision. Emi only cowers in fear, trying to bury herself in the seat. The last sound that he hears is her blood-curdling screams.

Impact.

----------

The emergency team is quick to respond. The scattered pile of broken glass and twisted metal lies to the side of the intersection, rammed into a nearby lightpost. Fire trucks were quick to douse the flames, and an ambulance started recovering those involved. The driver of the offending vehicle is relatively unarmed; he suffered a few cuts and bruises from his airbag. The other driver is not so lucky.

One of the paramedics discovers Ryota's broken frame. His arms are limp, his face cut into pieces from the window fragments raking across his skin. The paramedic immediately assumes the worst for this man. Reaching for a pulse, he looks up at his superior. "Dead, sir." His superior sighs, rubbing his temple with the ungloved hand.

"Fetch his identification and bring the body to that far ambulance. We'll take him off to be cleaned up and autopsied." The nurse responds with a yessir and does as commanded.

The screams of a small girl can be heard from the other side of the car. She is easier to pull from the wreckage. Her cries are filled with absolute terror as she is carried away from the scene and onto a stretcher in the ambulance hatch. "My legs!" she yells. "I can't feel my legs!" A laceration in her forehead covers her face in blood. It mixes with her tears into a watery mess.

"Get her stable, quick!" one of the paramedics commands. Her head is wrapped in disinfectant-laden gauze in hopes of stopping the bleeding. Luckily for her, the lightpost that they hit connected with her legs. Both lower halves are shattered, one bone fragment jutting through the skin. They are damaged beyond repair, but she feels no pain. Her brain has flooded her nerves with enough adrenaline and endorphins to fend off all sensation.

Her eyes start to fade from the shock, and she slips into the black of unconsciousness. The emergency team fills her bloodstream with an anesthetic to keep her asleep and dull any pain she might be feeling. "Poor girl," the administrator mutters. "Those legs are long gone."

"Do we have a name on her?" another of the men asks.

One of the paramedics holds Ryota's bloodied wallet in his hands, staring at his information. "The man's license says 'Ibarazaki Ryota.' I'm doing a check for him now..." He types furiously, scanning the database for a match living nearby. "Got him. Wife's name is Meiko." He spins in his chair to look at the girl lying on the stretcher. "I assume this is their daughter, Emi."

The leader of the team jumps into the conversation to bark orders. "Get his wife on thse phone, ASAP. We're taking the girl straight to emergency operation." The computer operater starts up the ambulance's phone line, dialing the home number provided in the database.

A click comes form the other end, followed by a woman's voice. "Hello?" she asks.

"Mrs. Ibarazaki?" the caller requests. She affirms her identity. "We need you to come to the emergency room of Sendai Kousei. There's... been an accident."

The line falls silent for a moment as she tries to process his words. "Y... yes, sir. I'll be right there." The dial tone takes over as she hangs up.

With Emi laid back in artificial sleep and secured in one of the ambulances, the medical team climbs in and latches the doors shut. Ryota's lifeless corpse is put in a separate vehicle to be whisked away, autopsied, and cleaned up for his eventual funeral. The driver of Emi's ambulance, the leader of this response team, hops into his seat.

Life as an emergency paramedic is rough. He's been on enough accident sites and seen people die enough times to become almost numb to it. Existence always comes to an end, and no one really knows when it will happen. He does not mourn the fallen anymore.

What kills him are the family members. The loved ones who have to bear the loss, who are left behind to pick up the pieces and find a way to fill the void in their lives. Some reactions are, inevitably, worse than others.

None of them quite compare to watching a little girl be broken in half and have her father snatched away in an instant. He weeps for the one who has to be her angel of death.

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To Chapter 2: Awake

I got the inspiration for this one from a picture in my art folder. This is also my attempt at writing a story that the readers already know the general ending to. I'm hoping I can at least pack it chock full of feels until then.

Also, yes, I shamelessly jacked Ryota's name from that guy/Mehkanik.

Thoughts, comments, etc.

I'm also posting chapter 2, because I feel comfortable with it and chapter 1 isn't exactly conducive to a cliff-hanger.

Chapter 2: Awake
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Emi wanders through the void, her mind still absent from the physical realm. She is lost, alone in the dark. She can't feel the lower half of her body, a completely surreal sensation. Her eyes fasten shut, trying to convince herself of the truth: that this is all a dream.

Pain shoots up the spine, forcing her awake.

Her emerald green eyes flutter open to a white ceiling. The owner wonders where she is... how she got here. The last thing she remembered was riding home with her father from their morning run at the track. She recalls talking to him about Ryota, about her time at school, and about how he met her mother.

Another memory brings itself front and center: there was a car hurtling toward them in the intersection. It couldn't stop... She can see it as if it were happening right in front of her. Her father's arms extending to brace for the impact. Her own screams filling the car alongside the sounds of crunching glass and screeching metal.

Another jolt of pain fires up her back. She identifies her toes as the source. Why do they hurt so badly? She tries to wiggle them beneath the bed sheets, but it feels like lighting surges through her. Just trying to contract them is a huge effort. And now it feels hot, like her lower half is being cooked over a roaring fire.

She sits up straight from her angled bed, throwing the covers away from her body, trying desperately to cool off. She doesn't expect what she sees.

Nothing can prepare an amputee from seeing what has happened to them for the first time.

What remains of her legs sits there on the bed, cut off below the knee. Only her thighs are still intact, wrapped in bandages to stymie off a potential infection. She slides the stumps around, completely bewildered. Just to confirm what her eyes are seeing, she reaches down and rubs one of the cutoffs. It feels coarse, the skin freshly stitched from the amputation.

Her brain isn't sure what to make of the sensation. She sees and feels the truth, but she also experiences a weird feeling of having her hand embedded into her calf. Conflicting messages all around. One emotion definitely stands out, though.

Tears well in her eyes, then flow like rivers. She cups her face in her hands, trying to keep anyone who might come in from seeing her cry. Her sobs awaken another woman in the room.

"Emi...?" The voice of her mother sounds different from the light, airy version she's used to. It's coarse, grainy, like she's under an unbelievable amount of stress. Meiko squints her eyes, adjusting to the light from her nap. Despite everything that has happened, she can only smile at seeing her daughter awake.

She rushes over to the bedside and envelops the girl in her arms, hugging her tightly around the neck. There is crying on both ends. "I'm so glad you're okay..."

"Mom..." Emi starts with a whisper. "They're... they're gone." She motions to her legs, as if they might magically reappear. If only they could.

Meiko pulls away, stroking her daughter's face. "I know, sweetie. But we'll adapt." Emi shifts her thighs back and forth, much to her mother's surprise. "You... you can move them?"

"Yeah.... why?"

"They thought they were gone completely. That you wouldn't even be able to use what was left of them." She chuckles a bit through the light streams running down her face. "I guess they were mistaken."

Emi just falls back into her mother's embrace. She doesn't want to think about anything right now. She just wants to feel loved, to feel secure with her family again. Wait..., she thinks, where is he?

"Mom?" Her mother stands at attention. "Where's Dad?"

Meiko only sighs, hugging her daughter tightly. How does she put this? "Emi, sweetie... I was so afraid I'd lost you, too."

Lost me... too? "Mom...?"

"He... he's gone, Emi." Her eyes go wide again. "He left us."

"No...," she mutters. "No, it can't be! He can't be gone!" The tears turn from sadness to rage. Her mother absorbs the light verbal abuse. "You can't just tell me he's gone! He can't just leave us like that! We need him! I need him..." She falls back into her mother's chest, sobbing furiously and beating her fist into Meiko's thigh. Her wails are so loud that they can be heard throughout the hall.

In the midst of her tantrum, she just keeps whispering, "It's not fair." Meiko rubs the top of her head, trying to provide what little comfort she can. This wasn't going to be easy for either of them, and she was so close to her father that this kind of reaction was expected.

A knock on the door manages to slip its way into the cries. "No, don't let him in! I don't want to let him see me like this!"

"Dear, he only wants to help."

"But I don't need help! I can do this myself?"

"And yet you're here, crying into my lap." Meiko snaps. She's right. "Please... you're not broken. We don't think you're broken. We just want to help you through this rough spot."

The girl in her lap grumbles. "Okay. Let him in."

Meiko smiles at the quick turnaround. "Come in," she says. The man steps into the room, trying not to draw too much attention. He definitely heard her outburst, god forbid he force another one. He wears the typical nursing scrubs, his hair dyed lavender and a smile etched into his cheekbones. "Good to see she's awake," he starts. "I would ask how she's doing, but that much is... obvious."

That struck one of her nerves. "And just how did you expect me to act?" she bites, her cracking voice muffled by her mother's leg. She rises and looks him in the eye, teeth gritting and muscles completely taut. "All happy and sunshine? Everything's going to be alright, isn't it? Well, it's not." Her tone intensifies, but her mother only stares in awe at her wrath. "I just had my whole world taken away from me!"

"Now, now, Miss Emi...," the nurse starts. She cuts him off.

"Don't you 'Miss Emi' me! You don't know what I'm going through right now! You don't know how it feels to lose it all. You have NO idea!!"

"Emi, please..." her mother whispers.

"Please what?" she barks. "Act like everything's okay? Pretend that nothing happened and let life go on as it did? Well, it can't, Mom. It won't ever be like it was..." She turns back to the nurse and bellows at him. "And you! Why couldn't you save him? Why did he have to die and I get left behind? It's not fair! It's not fair..." Her anger subsides back into depression, and the sobbing continues.

The man quickly realizes that he is not welcome here. "I'll just... see myself out," he says to Meiko. "I'll be sure to report that she's awake." Assuming people don't already know, he adds to himself.

She nods and thanks him, then returns her attention to the girl in her lap. "Emi... why are you so angry?" The girl whimpers her best imitation of remorse. What she did was wrong, but it felt so good to lash out and put the blame on someone else. Her mother considers reprimanding her, but that's not what she needs right now. She needs comfort and compassion.

"Angel, do you not remember what he always told you?"

Her voice cracks into something resembling a croak. "'You are strong. You can be more. You can go the distance.'"

"And you can. You are unbelievably strong." She picks up her chin to bring their eyes together. "You are his daughter, after all."

A smile manages to flash across Emi's face before fading away again. Even in this darkness, she only remembers him fondly. "Mom...," she says, "can you let me be alone for a minute? I... I need some space right now."

"Of course, dear," she responds. "Whatever you want." She rises to her feet and heads for the door, twisting the handle. Emi falls back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, just like she awoke. Before stepping outside, her mother utters a few words. "I love you, Emi. More than anything. And he did, too. Never forget that."

"I know, Mom. I love you, too." The doorway closes, and she is alone again. She starts to think about him again, of all the times they shared: the running, the laughing, and the mutual happiness. Most of her memories are on those runs. They defined their relationship, and it was in those moments that she became who she was.

As she lies there in silence, reminiscing about her father, she comes to a decision. I can't let anyone that close again. He was taken away from me... so suddenly. Without warning. Couldn't anyone be taken away like that? Thoughts turn into words. "I can't hurt like this again.... It's... it's too much."

Minutes pass. The clock ticks, and the day goes on. With time in constant motion, she drifts into sleep amidst more tears.

It's the first time she experiences the night terrors that will plague her for years to come.

In her subconscious, all of her dreams involve him. She relives that last moment, time and time again. Each recollection is more painful, digging deeper into her soul. There are other dreams, most of them memories brought to fruition by her psyche.

One dream stands out. He is there, off in the distance, running like they always did. She struggles to keep up, trying to accelerate up to his pace and catch him. But she can't. No matter how strong she is, she can never reach him. He will always keep moving, one foot in front of the other.

She jerks awake from the nightmare, panting. She checks her pulse and finds it racing almost as fast as if she were physically running. "Just a dream...," she mutters to herself. "But it was... so real." Her eyes turn to the ceiling, begging for inspiration. "Daddy..." She seldom called him by that name. Only in times of deep love or deep sorrow. "What do I do?"

His words come back to her, and she can swear she hears his voice. "Always put your best foot forward... keep on moving, one step at a time."

"I will, Dad," she whispers into the empty room. "I'll keep on going. I am strong. I won't let anyone bring me down." Her hand grips the pillow casing tightly.

"And I won't let anyone hurt me again."

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To Chapter 3: Phantom

Very interesting. Most would argue there's really no point in writing this since everyone can guess how it went based on the info from the game, but I think there's good potential to explore the tragedy and how that molded Emi into the person she is.

Two things you might want to consider:
- Emi is 11 here, as you've said. How might that affect her speech and vocabulary?
- She is, presumably, meeting the nurse for the first time. The way it's written, it seems like she already knows who he is.

Agreed, she does seem to be talking much more 'adult' in fashion than is appropriate. Heck, she almost seems more mature than she is 8 years later.

Also, I think there's a bit of name confusion in the 'crying into my lap' bit.

thirty-minute sprints

Intentional?

"And yet you're here, crying into my lap." Emi snaps.

That's probably Meiko here...

"Don't you 'Miss Emi' me! You don't know what I'm going through right now! You don't know how it feels to lose it all. You have NO idea!!"

Meadows already mentioned it, but - this is an eleven year old just waking up from surgery?
Actually the whole of Emi's dialogue after she wakes up might be appropriate for her 19 year old self, but in this situation it just seems strange...

Some of the medical details are off as well. No big problem, most people don't know about such details.
For example, I found it funny that someone would expect the medics to have access to population data - let alone directly on the ambulance. In real life, that's what police are for.
Also, this paramedic says some stuff that we are trained NEVER EVER to say in the presence of patients.
And waking up from emergency surgery and instantly being able to sit up and throwing off the covers is... let's say extremely uncommon.

Meadows wrote:- She is, presumably, meeting the nurse for the first time. The way it's written, it seems like she already knows who he is.

It's meant to be written to imply that Meiko has already met him, but Emi hasn't. I'll probably touch that up for clarity.

Meadows wrote:- Emi is 11 here, as you've said. How might that affect her speech and vocabulary?

nemz wrote:Agreed, she does seem to be talking much more 'adult' in fashion than is appropriate. Heck, she almost seems more mature than she is 8 years later.

Mirage_GSM wrote:Meadows already mentioned it, but - this is an eleven year old just waking up from surgery?
Actually the whole of Emi's dialogue after she wakes up might be appropriate for her 19 year old self, but in this situation it just seems strange...

You could maybe go as far as to play it off on her trying to cope with the trauma. That seems a bit sloppy, though. I'll see what I can do about it, making her sound the appropriate age is going to be rather important. Though, honestly, I'm not certain how much of her "normal" speech (e.g. during happy times) would differ between 11 and 19. The way she talks in game is very pre-teen at times.

Mirage_GSM wrote:

thirty-minute sprints

Intentional?

I'm not sure what you're saying here.

nemz wrote:Also, I think there's a bit of name confusion in the 'crying into my lap' bit.

Mirage_GSM wrote:

"And yet you're here, crying into my lap." Emi snaps.

That's probably Meiko here...

nyeh, fixed.

Mirage_GSM wrote:Also, this paramedic says some stuff that we are trained NEVER EVER to say in the presence of patients.

Such as...? This is a curiosity thing more than anything. Getting the med details wrong in the first few chapters isn't a big deal, I think, but given the premise, it's going to be important to fact check everything later.

Mirage_GSM wrote:And waking up from emergency surgery and instantly being able to sit up and throwing off the covers is... let's say extremely uncommon.

Dramatic effect?

DaGarver wrote:

Mirage_GSM wrote:Also, this paramedic says some stuff that we are trained NEVER EVER to say in the presence of patients.

Such as...? This is a curiosity thing more than anything. Getting the med details wrong in the first few chapters isn't a big deal, I think, but given the premise, it's going to be important to fact check everything later.

Talking about people being dead and transporting them for autopsy while there could be survivors listening is a really bad thing. At least, that's what I think Mirage is getting at; I've never been trained as an EMT.

Mirage_GSM wrote: And waking up from emergency surgery and instantly being able to sit up and throwing off the covers is... let's say extremely uncommon.

The rest I agree with, but if you recall, Emi didn't actually wake up for a couple months after the accident. She didn't just have the surgery, in other words, though coming out of a coma would likely leave her equally groggy and incoherent for the first while.

If, perhaps, there were a bridge between her first waking up and talking with her mom, then slipping back to sleep for a while and waking for the scene with Nurse, it might make a little more sense.

Then again, it's Emi; boundlessly energetic Emi. Her waking out of a coma fit to explode like dynamite isn't really unbelievable.

I'm not seeing the vocabulary problem; I might have read it after corrections were made, though. She doesn't seem to be using any particularly unusual words for an 11-year-old, and the emotional state -rage- would carry her comments more than her brain. Saying things you don't mean often means your mouth is on auto-pilot.

DaGarver wrote:

Mirage_GSM wrote:

thirty-minute sprints

Intentional?

Well, if you're running for 30 minutes, you wouldn't usually call it a sprint. Sprints are 100m, 200m or 400m distances, all of which should be finished in well under 30 minutes. That's why I thought you might be sarcastic here...

The rest I agree with, but if you recall, Emi didn't actually wake up for a couple months after the accident. She didn't just have the surgery, in other words, though coming out of a coma would likely leave her equally groggy and incoherent for the first while.

Hmm. I'm not sure where you get the 4-month coma part. The story says nothing of the sort. I think it's unlikely that Meiko would have camped out at Emi's bed for that long, so I assumed she awoke very soon after the operation... Though I admit the total lack of pain when she touched her leg made me doubt that asumption for an instant.
If she was in a coma for that long there would be a whole different set of problems. No energetic personality can make up for completely atropied muscles (and possible brain damage).

Regarding her language - it is not her vocabulary that I have problems with. She comes out of her coma (regardless of how long it was) with full clarity about what happened and she is bossing around adults! Adults she's never met before. That's not something any eleven year old would do - lost legs or no.

Mirage_GSM wrote:Hmm. I'm not sure where you get the 4-month coma part.

First, a couple is two. If I recall correctly, in Emi's route, either her of Meiko mention Emi didn't even attend her father's funeral, and was still bedridden two months later. It's never mentioned whether she was comatose, though, and I don't believe that's what happened based on the lack of brain damage.

I imagine the trauma of the accident would have resulted in a long period of keeping her sedated in any case -perhaps a week or two- while her legs were amputated and they made sure to keep her clear of infection. Though, in that case, waking her from sedation would have been observed by her doctor and she wouldn't just wake up in the room with her mother.

Emi's reaction really isn't that out of character, even for an 11-year-old, though it does seem a little too soon for her to be that belligerent - I'll give you that.

I really hate picking this apart, but the more I think about it the less sense it makes. Which is sad because I really liked the story as a dramatic piece... it's just got some timeline holes that make it a little too fantastic.

I can't comment on a whole lot of the technical details, since it isn't my field, and it's been a while since I've played Emi's route, so I don't remember the details of how long she was out, but keeping this contained to this particular story, aren't emotional outbursts upon waking a common side effect of anesthesia? Coupled with the emotional nature of the scene, I'd consider her outburst believable (again, within the facts we're given in this story and my admittedly limited knowledge on surgical stuff). Whether it meshes with canon is a different story, and whether or not that even matters is another itself (I don't see the harm even if it doesn't fully mesh), but stand alone, I can see it as being in character under the circumstances. The bigger question for me would be whether or not she'd have the strength or energy to sit straight, throw the sheets, and have her outburst immediately after waking from such a huge accident and operation (or even be lucid enough to do so in the first place), but I'll give that all a pass and say, "Solid," instead.

Mirage_GSM wrote:Well, if you're running for 30 minutes, you wouldn't usually call it a sprint. Sprints are 100m, 200m or 400m distances, all of which should be finished in well under 30 minutes. That's why I thought you might be sarcastic here...

It wasn't intended to be sarcastic, more that it was just 30 minutes of hard running. No slow jogging, no stopping to walk, etc. Basically race a 5k every day.

Mirage_GSM wrote:If she was in a coma for that long there would be a whole different set of problems. No energetic personality can make up for completely atropied muscles (and possible brain damage).

This is part of why I had her waking up relatively early. Muscular atrophy is hard to recover from, and she's going to suffer it to some extent until she gets her legs back, anyways. (Time to work those arm guns!)

As for her tone with the adults... I'm rather biased, obviously, but Emi doesn't strike me as one to be like most kids her age. Too bustling and determined. Granted, those are personality traits we observe when she's 19, which is a very different animal. That being said, I think her having a bit of emotional instability after the anesthetic wears off (as CK suggests) isn't unreasonable.

Helbereth wrote:If I recall correctly, in Emi's route, either her of Meiko mention Emi didn't even attend her father's funeral, and was still bedridden two months later.

This is correct. She was just bedridden, not in a full-on coma. She didn't get to go see her father's grave until two months after the accident. I've got that under wraps, don't worry about it for now.

I think there are a few timeline holes, but I get the feeling that they are mostly minor details that don't matter much to the overall story or characterization. I'm not worried about them right now.

Helbereth wrote:

Mirage_GSM wrote:Hmm. I'm not sure where you get the 4-month coma part.

First, a couple is two. If I recall correctly, in Emi's route, either her of Meiko mention Emi didn't even attend her father's funeral, and was still bedridden two months later. It's never mentioned whether she was comatose, though, and I don't believe that's what happened based on the lack of brain damage.

No idea where I got the "four" from, so are we even now?
There's definitely no mention of a prolonged coma in the VN.
If at any point there had been, I am certain SC would have axed it long before the beta phase...

Update time. I actually wrote this one separate from my outline, because I felt like I had a few holes that I needed to fill at this point.

Chapter 3: Phantom
pastebin:

The head nurse in charge of Emi's case feels... frustrated, to say the least. Her outburst was not out of the ordinary. Some would blame it on the anesthesia, but one also had to consider the circumstances. She had experienced a lot of loss in less than an hour, discovering both the death of her father and her amputated legs.

The rage she showed was directed at everyone in the room. At the nurse, for not doing the impossible and saving her father. At her mother, for some reason unbeknownst to him. She was being irrational, yet expecting an eleven-year-old to react any other way would be like teaching a chicken how to fly: possible, but not likely.

He leans back in his desk chair and places a finger on each temple, massaging gently. "This one's going to be stubborn," he mutters to himself. Thankfully, he was able to stay professional and mask his emotion in the presence of his patient. If the girl was capable of that kind of rage, God only knows what her mother could do.

Someone knocks on his door. He closes the case folder lying open on his desk. "Come in," he invites, still trying to bottle his annoyance with the girl. The latch clicks open. A tall woman stands in the doorway, brown hair tied into a shoulder-length, braided ponytail, her curves clad in an auburn floral dress. "Evening, Mrs. Ibarazaki."

"Meiko," she corrects. "I insist. And good evening, Nurse... Toriyama, was it?"

"That's right. Please, call me Hideo. Or even just Nurse is fine." As professional as he tries in his mannerisms, he prefers casual names, especially in the confines of his office.

"Right. Nurse." She imprints the name in her mind.

He pulls up a side chair and offers it to her. She accepts, smoothing out the back of her dress before sitting. "So, Meiko," he begins, "what brings you here?"

"I just... I wanted to apologize for Emi. I've never seen her act that way before." Her voice is laced with regret, like she could have done more to help ease the tension in that moment.

"Please, don't worry about it." He gestures her to stop. "I've seen patients react very differently after waking up from sedatives. With how much anesthesia we pumped into her system between the accident and the surgery, it had to be expected." She isn't a fan of that answer, still hanging her head in regret. A slight frown breaks his ordinary smile. "I shouldn't have barged in, anyways. That wouldn't have ended well under any circumstances."

"That doesn't excuse what she did."

No, not really, he thinks. But I'm not trying to excuse her. ...Maybe I should change the subject. "How's she feeling right now?"

Her sigh is long and heavy. "As well as we can expect, I suppose. She wanted some space after you left. As far as I know, she's still lying in bed."

He chuckles a bit to himself. It's not like she can go anywhere. "That reminds me," he says, causing her to pick up her head. "We probably have a chair for her. Being able to get around is rather useful these days." His attempt at a joke goes unnoticed.

"Is the chair really necessary?"

"It's standard practice. And, given her current condition, she needs to learn how she'll be moving about for the rest of her life."

Meiko arches her eyebrow. The rest of her life? she wonders. But she just... wait. They don't know, do they? I didn't get the chance to tell him. "Nurse?" He turns his attention to her. "How likely is it that you were wrong about her legs?"

He scratches his chin. "It's definitely possible. Why do you ask?"

"Before you came in, she... she moved them."

He flinches. "Interesting.... You're completely sure?" She nods. "Hm... I'll check it out before I leave later tonight. Thanks for the heads up." The warm smile returns.

A quick glance at the clock tells him that it's well past 9pm. He stands from his chair and walks over to put a hand on her shoulder. The bags under her eyes weren't quite noticeable until he got this close. "You should head home," he suggests. "You need your rest."

"I can sleep here," she protests with a yawn. "In case she needs me."

"Don't you worry. We'll take good care of her." She's too tired to argue with him. He offers her a hand and lifts her out of the chair, then shows her to the door.

She seems surprised as he shuts off the office light and walks outside with her. "You're leaving too?"

"Yeah. I'll pick up a wheelchair for Emi and then head home myself." His hand moves to her shoulder again, trying to reassure her. "Take care of yourself, Meiko."

Before he starts heading down the hallway in the opposite direction, she stops him. Her voice is but a whisper. "There's one more thing you should know."

His eyebrow arches inquisitively. "What's that?"

"Whatever you do... don't try to baby her."

Easier said than done, in my line of work. "I'll do my best, Meiko."

She thanks him and heads off down the hallway to the main entrance, while he walks toward the supply area. His office is on the third floor - along with his patients, all children - so he has to take a flight of stairs to reach his destination.

The hallways are completely barren. It's already late enough, and he's here well beyond his normal hours. If you can say the head pediatric nurse of a major hospital even has normal hours. He sees not one more soul. Kinda creepy, to be honest, he says to himself.

The supply room is chock full of various odds and ends. However, it's kept meticulously organized, and it isn't hard for Nurse to find what he's after. The wheelchair is about three-quarters of the size of an adult's chair, adjusted for shorter arms and legs. The stack remains folded against the wall for compact storage. He grabs the collapsed chair with both hands, lifts it onto his shoulder, and heads back up to his floor.

Emi's door is closed tight, the muffled sounds of a quiet television coming through. Nurse knocks twice with his free hand. No answer. Is she ignoring him? The TV doesn't sound that loud, so she must have heard him.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he needs to deliver the wheelchair anyway. The door creaks open, his eye peering through the crack. It looks like Emi is curled up in a ball, rolled over on her side and enveloped in the bedsheets. Whew. Just asleep.

He opens the door just enough to slip inside, heading for the opposite wall. The chair is unfolds easily, and he sits it upright next to her mattress. She flinches from the sound, but doesn't wake, instead rolling over to her other side. He watches the sheets twist and turn as she moves. The wrinkles morph around what's left of her legs as she shifts into a more comfortable position.

"So...," he whispers, "she can use them...." He smiles. He's never been happier to be wrong.

Before he starts to leave her room, he reaches up and clicks the television off. The sudden change from still noise to complete silence makes her stir again, into consciousness this time. He takes notice, and her half-open eyes scan him sleepily.

"You...," she whispers. "You're the nurse from before."

He nods. "Yep. Came by to give you a wheelchair so you can move around." She turns her head to follow his finger and groans. While not completely lucid, she doesn't appreciate the sight, nor the idea of being confined to a chair and a bed for any period of time.

He sits in one of the visitor's chairs, pulling it closer to her bedside and clasping his hands together, elbows on his knees. He's giving her a chance to talk, if she wants to. "How are you feeling, Emi?" he asks.

She steals herself away for a moment, unappreciative of the pity routine. I should still probably answer, she tells herself, since he's a grown-up and all. "A bit... a bit sore," she responds, her voice quivering and still hoarse from disturbed sleep. "Sometimes... it kinda, I dunno, hurts when I touch my legs. Like they're still there, I guess."

"Perfectly normal. It's called phantom limbs. You'll probably have them for a while... maybe forever." She doesn't like the sound of that. "But they'll come less and less as you grow up."

She tries to right herself, and he considers stopping her. But he remembers Meiko's words: 'Don't try to baby her.' She manages to sit up, leaning back on her hands for balance. It will take some time before she figures out how to sit on a completely flat surface again. "What's your name?" she asks.

"Toriyama," he answers. "Hideo Toriyama. But call me Nurse. All the kids here do."

She cocks her head. "All the kids?"

"Yep. All my patients are kids. Just like you." That idea she likes. Lots of kids means more playmates. "You sleep with the TV on?" Nurse asks. He's just trying to make small-talk at this point.

She responds with a slight nod. "It's... calming." Her hand reaches for the remote sitting on her nightstand, and she flips it back on. "I hate quiet."

Neither of them say anything for a while. She keeps her eyes glued to the television. He struggles to find something to say. I should probably let her show me her legs, he thinks. It would probably motivate her, if only a little bit.

"Say, Emi... Your mom said something about using your legs." She turns her attention to him, her face flared. He continues, "Can you show me?" She smiles and nods, folding back the covers over her lower half. Her thighs slide back and forth slightly. She even bends her knee back lightly. It's not much, but it's a start, and enough to make Nurse smile back at her.

She giggles at his happiness. "Proud?"

"Very." He stands up from the chair, deciding that it's time for him to head home. "I'll have someone come in tomorrow so we can get you fitted for some new legs. How does that sound?" Her face lights up completely. "I figured as much."

He turns toward the door to leave, but she stops him. She has one more question, even though it will crush the mood. "Nurse? Before you go..."

He turns back around. "Yes, Emi?"

"How long was I... y'know... out?"

"A week or so. Why?"

"Did... did anyone come visit but Mom?"

He shakes his head. "No one else." She looks away, dejected. Her own friends basically abandoned her. Even Ryota. Nurse senses her sadness and tries to soothe her. "It's alright. I'm sure you'll have plenty of visitors now that you're awake. They probably just wanted to give you time to get better."

She buys it, but not completely. She knows that she'll never really 'get better.' "I... I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right." He pulls the sheets up to her chest as she lies back in an attempt to comfort her. All she can think about is her father tucking her in at night, and it makes her wary of him. I can't let him close, she reminds herself. I can't let him close. I can't let him...

"Now get some rest," Nurse says as he steps into the doorway. "We need to get you up to speed in the morning."

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To Chapter 4: Falling After You

Purpose here was also to start hinting at the central conflict: Emi's internal conflict, both physically with her re-learning her body and emotionally with Nurse. Also, I'm trying to keep this going at a slow pace, though there will inevitably be some jumping around in the timeline to skip the boring parts of her recovery (namely, when nothing interesting happens).

I like seeing Nurse's thoughts displayed in such a way. It makes him feel a little more... human, I suppose... compared to the aloof, sarcastic character he's portrayed as in the VN. I like that you weren't scared to make his first impression of Emi seem a bit frustrated - rather than immediately admiring her. He reacts to her verbal assault like anyone would; understanding, but distant.

I also like that Emi isn't the least bit apologetic about her behavior; probably lacking the emotional compass to see it as being a big deal - which, she's probably right about, really.