Chương 4: Intake

Beneath the ceiling of the unfamiliar bedroom, Kurisu lay on the mattress, tangling the sheets around his legs as the massacre of his home looped through his mind. After tracing the shadows on the plaster for hours, his vision blurred, his eyelids finally shutting. Beside his fallen father, Kurisu knelt in the sand of the training yard, watching as Grahk dragged his grandfather into the void.

Thrust face-down into the dirt a moment later, he gagged at the putrid stench of the hot breath panting against the nape of his neck, the invading soldier's armored chest pressing him deeper into the earth. Forced to witness his mother's execution from inches away, he watched the heel of an iron boot crush her skull, the sudden spray of tissue striking his own cheek. Haha-ue! Bile and ash burning his throat, he opened his mouth to howl, but crimson energy erupted from his chest instead.

Sending a deep ache through his entire body as it washed over the yard, the red light stripped the flesh from the attacking soldiers and anyone else within proximity, dissolving their bodies into a drifting mist. When the light faded, it left him alone inside a crater of fused glass, his entire settlement reduced to gray soot. He slammed his hands against the vitrified surface, letting the residual heat burn his palms while the dust clung to his sweat-soaked skin. I did this. I became a weapon. I killed everyone.

Waking with a jolt, Kurisu gasped for air, his lungs seizing as though he had inhaled water. His jaw shut, he bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood as he trapped the scream inside his throat. Flat against the wooden headboard, he ground his molars together, the pressure burning through his jaw as his eyes darted through the shadows. He checked his palms for any lingering glow before grabbing his choker, the scales biting into his fingers as the pain helped to ground him. Suppress it... Suppress it.

The phantom smell of ash settled in his lungs, burning hotter than his memory of the iron weapons. While the invading soldiers may have been the ones to slaughter his family, his own power had been responsible for killing anyone else who could have otherwise survived. Driving the heels of his hands into his temples, he pressed against his skull. Hoping. Praying he would be able to stop the images of the dissolving bodies.

As he fought to get his breathing under control in the hopes that he might spare this family from a similar fate, he pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in his arms while watching the bedroom door from the dark. When Kurisu finally pushed himself off the mattress to meet the morning, the bed groaned. Aware of how easily things broke around him in this world, he listened to the floorboards creak beneath his feet, his gaze falling upon the splintered door sitting crooked in its frame.

Through the cracked gap, he watched Steven pause and shake his head at the damaged wood. Steven tapped his knuckles against the frame before poking his head into the room.

"Emergency kinship is going to cost me way more than I bargained for," Steven muttered. Dropping his hand, he gave Kurisu a tight smile.

"Morning. We've got the doctor's appointment at ten, then we're hitting the mall, so get dressed," he added, handing a fresh bundle of clothing to Kurisu. Following Steven into the hallway several minutes later, Kurisu emerged wearing a similar shirt and sweatpants as before.

"Let's go," Steven said, pointing toward the front door.

"And remember, at the clinic, you stay quiet. I'll handle the talking." While Steven navigated the suburban streets with his eyes fixed on the windshield, Kurisu watched from the passenger seat as the strange metal carriages traveled down the road without draft beasts to pull them. Beside them, he tracked an elevated wagon rolling on thick rubber rings, noting the vehicle appeared nearly identical from the outside to the carriage they currently rode in, including the exposed cargo space in the back.

Once they stepped through the clinic doors, the chemical smell of rubbing alcohol mixed with a cloying sweetness burned Kurisu's nose. Eventually, a cheerful nurse named Brenda led them behind a door and down the hallway. She stopped at a seemingly random wall before pointing to a gray device on the floor with a rod sticking up from the back.

"Alright, sweetie, hop on the scale for me." Tracing her downward-pointing finger, Kurisu looked at the odd metal stool before stepping onto the platform with exaggerated care, yet the plastic base still creaked beneath him. Sliding the metal counterweights across the balance bar, Brenda frowned, then tapped the numbers with her pen.

"Well, that's weird. We just calibrated this thing, and he looks way too skinny for two-eighty-five. Honey, are you carrying weights in those pockets?" Kurisu tilted his head toward Steven.

"What is her meaning?" he asked in his native tongue. As the nurse opened her mouth again, Steven stepped in with an easy laugh, casually nudging the teenager off the platform.

"He just ate a huge breakfast. Kid's mostly solid muscle, so let's just get the number down and keep moving." Scanning Kurisu's lean frame, Brenda narrowed her eyes before giving a dismissive shrug and scribbling on her clipboard. After ushering them to room three, she pointed inside.

"Dr. Evans will be in to see you shortly." While entering the small room several minutes later, Dr. Evans flipped open the manila chart, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"So, foster placement DCFS physical," the doctor hummed.

"Heart, lungs, reflexes, and a basic blood draw. Notes say he doesn't speak any English, right? Easy enough. Okay, take a deep breath." Recognizing the request as the physician exaggerated an inhale to mime the action, Kurisu drew in a large breath, expanding his chest. The end of the tube felt cold against his skin. Brow furrowed, Evans pulled the instrument away, tapped the flat piece against his palm before pressing it back over Kurisu's heart a moment later.

After tracking a second beat following the first by a half step, the doctor listened as a snap rattled the earpieces.

"Nope. I'm not crazy. That's a secondary rhythm, all right," he continued, holding Steven's gaze.

"And god, it's loud. I tracked a four-second pause between cycles. A strike with that much force, combined with a heart rate this slow... kid's a walking diesel engine." Retrieving the plastic oximeter from the wall mount, the physician pointed his finger out for Kurisu to mimic, clamping the hinge onto the teenager's index finger while watching the numbers settle on the display.

"A hundred percent oxygen saturation. Thirty beats a minute," he read, gripping Kurisu's wrist. Evans' thumb pressed into the nailbed, the tissue blanched white for just a second before the natural pink flush returned.

"The sensor is registering the primary contraction and that secondary snap as two separate pressure waves," the doctor continued.

"His actual heart rate is fifteen. In a normal patient, that's cardiac collapse, but his capillary refill is instantaneous." If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Frowning at the flashing red numbers on the monitor, Steven swallowed.

"Are those pauses dangerous? Is he healthy?"

"A fifteen-beat resting rate puts a normal human in a coma," Evans said, letting Kurisu's wrist go.

"But according to the oximeter, his oxygen delivery is flawless. Let me grab the portable ultrasound from the hall so we can see why." Wheeling the cart into the room a moment later, the physician booted the console, squeezing a dollop of thick liquid onto the plastic wand. Kurisu noted the cold of the goo as the doctor pressed the wand against his chest. With the monitor flickering before finally casting a black and white image across the glass, Evans rolled the trackball to adjust the depth.

"Look at this," the doctor said, tapping the screen.

"A normal human heart has four chambers. This image shows six." Beside the cart, Steven leaned closer, watching the pulsing shapes.

"This cavity in the center seems to be the main pump," Evans explained, tracing the outline on the glass.

"So inside the muscle wall—which must be three times thicker than an Olympic lifter's at least—his 'heart' shows two extra chambers stacked like twin reservoirs. Watch them flood black with fluid during that long pause. See those doors slamming shut on the feed? That's the snap ringing in my ears." Dropping his hand from the monitor, the doctor looked back at Steven.

"I've never seen anything like this. This boy's structure... it's highly concerning. It's not human, though I'm not really sure what it is." With a shaky exhale, Steven stepped backward.

"Can we, uh... can we just finish the physical?" When the physician stepped beside the table, Kurisu barely felt the man's thumb dig into his arm. Was he even pressing?

"Relax your arm, son," the doctor instructed. Through his phone app, Steven relayed the request to Kurisu, holding the speaker forward.

"I am relaxed," Kurisu replied, observing the doctor. Shaking his head, Evans struggled to compress the muscle.

"It's ridiculous. It feels like I'm trying to squeeze a truck tire." Guiding Kurisu by the shoulder, the doctor turned him around. Kurisu listened to the silence stretch across the room as Evans examined his back.

"Where did you say you found this kid?" the physician asked quietly, his hand hovering over the marred tissue.

"These look like lashings... and animal claws."

"Jesus," Steven muttered, running a trembling hand over his face. Fingers tracing the edge of a thick scar, the doctor sighed.

"These are old. Fully healed, but deep." From the tray, Evans picked up a plastic tube fitted with a steel needle.

"Okay. I need to run a standard blood panel. It'll require a quick prick." Kurisu resisted the urge to shiver, noting the cold of the liquid as the doctor swiped a chemical pad across the inside of his elbow. Forcing his weight down to apply more pressure as the skin dimpled and resisted the sharp tip, the physician strained against the plastic hub until it snapped, bending the steel flat. Slowly raising his eyes to meet the doctor, Kurisu lowered his voice." Ware ni kizu o owaseru ki ka?"

With the ruined needle in his hand, Evans, trembling, shifted his gaze to Kurisu's inner elbow, not even finding a scratch.

"I think we'll skip the blood work for today," the doctor stammered, tossing the broken waste into the nearby red bin. Hands raised in a gesture Kurisu recognized as placating.

"It's okay," Steven said.

"Nobody is trying to hurt you, it's just a medical test. We need all this for the emergency foster placement." Blood and strange tests were a requirement for housing in this world? What odd qualifications to have. After studying the doctor's trembling fingers, Kurisu extended his arm.

"Hand it over," he muttered. Faster than the doctor could react, Kurisu reached across the gap, snatching a fresh needle and a plastic tube straight from the tray.

"Hey! Stop," Evans exclaimed, stepping forward. Gripping the plastic cylinder in his fist, Kurisu inhaled, focusing his Ki upon a single point on his forearm to soften the dense tissue over the vein. Driving his hand down, he punctured his arm, his skin resisting for a microbreath before yielding as he jammed the needle into his elbow. Within an instant the blood blasted the tube off the hub.

Launching from his arm, the plastic cylinder whizzed past the doctor's ear to strike the opposite wall, popping the rubber stopper. Blood splatter-painted the drywall, and a jet sprayed from the open needle hub, cutting a line across the linoleum. A full second after the impact, Steven flinched backward against the closed door, watching the physician stumble as he raised an arm to shield his face from a spray that had already settled. Pulling the needle free, Kurisu pinched the puncture site shut.

A hole like this was nothing to his base regeneration, and his skin sealed it within seconds, leaving no trace of the wound. He reached for a manual syringe from the tray.

"Do you have any idea how much pressure I just put on that needle?" Evans muttered, staring at the boy's sealed arm. Wiping a stray drop of blood from his cheek, the doctor watched Kurisu prep the second strike.

"Let me grab a catcher's mitt before you tap that line again." Kurisu struck his arm a second time. This time with his thumb against the flange so when the flow pushed the plunger backward, threatening to launch the plastic core out of the barrel again, he held it in place. Following a long breath, he withdrew the needle, handing the syringe back to the physician.

"Done." The doctor closed his fingers around the barrel, looking from the dark fluid inside to the blood drying on the far wall. Then setting the tube onto the tray, he stepped backward. His hands shaking, Steven produced a folded paper from his jacket.

"DCFS just needs a signature stating he's healthy." Evans grabbed a pen, signing his name across the bottom of the physical clearance sheet before sliding the paperwork across the laminate toward Steven.

"Take the clearance," he said, dropping his gaze to the red line on the floor.

"Just… get him out of here."

"Look, I already know you're not from around here. Terra, whatever the hell that is. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I need you to be damned honest with me, or I don't care what kind of wrath from my wife I have to deal with, you'll be going to that county home. You understand me?" Steven said while leveling a glare at Kurisu as soon as they were back in the vehicle, his phone sitting between them on the console. When Kurisu didn't answer right away he pressed.

"Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"I do." Kurisu responded, before staring back into the man's eyes in kind.

"You are not privy to all the details of my history, but I will share with you enough to ease your concerns."

"Where the hell does a fourteen-year-old kid get scars like yours? I've seen some scars, I've seen boys come home with half their bodies, I've seen men who're lucky to come home at all, the shape they were in. But nothing looked quite like that. Sure your scars aren't the maiming sort, but—well damn it my brother had a frag grenade go off at his back and it didn't look like that! Whatever that was, it was vicious, meant for pain, not killing."

Kurisu considered the question, it was uncomfortable certainly, but answering it put him in no immediate danger that he could think of. Still he didn't want to divulge too much of his past to a stranger, no matter how good-intentioned." Toriko. When I would refuse to do as my captor demanded of me, or if I did not perform to his gratification, or if he simply felt I had not been punished recently enough. I would be flogged.

I was forced to fight all manner of beasts for his amusement," Kurisu replied flatly, still holding Steven's gaze while the translator spoke the words.

"Slavery? You mean to tell me that you were a slave? Shit's illegal in like ninety percent of the world."

"I am not of this world, as previously disclosed, I am of Terra, it is an alternate realm."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't believe that shit, Terra. You could say you're from Krypton and I'd still think you're just as crazy. Terra means Earth, kid. It's just Latin!"

"As you wish." Kurisu stated as he turned to look out the windshield, the lashings on his back throbbing with an ache he knew wasn't really there.

"Do I gotta worry about this 'owner' of yours coming to look for you at some point? I've got my own family to keep safe, and sorry if you're not on the top of the priority list," Steven exhaled, a muscle in his jaw ticking while Kurisu could hear the grinding of the man's teeth.

"While I cannot say with absolute certainty, it is extremely unlikely that he will ever find me again."

"You'd better hope you're right about that, boy. Because if anything happens to my family, there'll be hell to pay," Steven warned.

"Why is it, your reaction is the only sensible one?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your clan, the matriarch in particular, while I am grateful, was imprudently swift to not only accept me within your home, but insistent upon it. You are the only one showing due caution to the sudden appearance of a stranger on your lands," Kurisu noted.

"That's none of your damn business."