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Yuri Sakazaki nervously tapped her foot as she sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair and wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts. She leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling, fixating on a large water spot that was right above her. Brown and glaring and ugly, it cheapened the look of Southtown General Hospital. Not that the ceiling’s looks were terribly important to begin with, but, usually, medical facility aesthetics were a little more sterile, and a big, dark spot was anything but.
“Do you think she’s okay?” She asked as she turned her head to look at the woman seated next to her.
Mai Shiranui sat, opening and closing a red and white folding fan over and over, her dark eyes partially obscured by her even darker fringe.
“Probably not…”
A heavy silence descended on the pair. Neither knew what to do: to converse with each other about the status quo seemed almost obscene on some level -- like it wasn’t their place to offer any sort of commentary on what was happening.
“Guys?”
Yuri jumped, startled by the sudden presence of Mary Ryan, a detective for Southtown Police Department. Yuri didn’t know her very well, but she was, without a doubt, absolutely terrified of her.
“Mary!”
Mai jumped out of her seat and stowed her fan in the back of her shorts.
“How is she?! Is she okay?!”
“Pfft, no,” came Mary’s blunt reply. “But they gave her some morphine, so that should help take the edge off.”
“Can she go home yet?!” Yuri asked.
“The doctor kinda wants to keep her. Her ribs are cracked and she has a mild concussion, but since they gave her a narcotic they want to watch her…”
“Can we at least see her?!” Mai’s voice was laced with impatience.
“Yeah. Come on.”
The pair followed Mary down a busy corridor until they reached a room that had a large piece of paper with the name “Levasseur” taped on the door. Mary knocked before slowly opening it.
“Bb?”
Inside, Yuri and Mai’s friend (and Mary’s, too), a bartender called King, was sitting rigid on the exam table with her head down. She was appropriately cleaned and bandaged up, though some of her hair was dyed pink from where blood must have adhered it to her forehead earlier. Her blood smeared rugby shirt and torn skirt had been replaced by uncomfortable looking turquoise hospital scrubs.
“King-san!”
Yuri couldn’t help herself: she ran forward and threw her arms around the traumatized woman but immediately released her when she tensed up. She awkwardly lowered herself onto the table beside King before cautiously reaching over to squeeze her trembling hand.
“Hey, we’re here,” Mai said gently.
“How are you holding up?” Mary asked from the doorway.
King slightly lifted her head.
“I’m not,” she answered hoarsely. She pressed her lips together as silent tears rolled down her battered face.
“Oh, bb,” Mary rushed over. “You’re doing great. You’ve given us more than enough to --”
“Don’t…”
King shut her eyes while she swayed slightly. She unexpectedly rested her head on Yuri’s shoulder, which was a somewhat unusual gesture for her, as she was never much for physical affection. She must have been really tired, but, truth be told, it was probably the drugs.
There was a brief silence before Mary turned to Mai.
“I need to talk to you outside,” she told her very seriously. Mai’s eyes widened, her expression equal parts curious and alarmed.
“Wha --?”
“Let’s go,” the officer said sternly.
Mai stood up and walked toward the door, which Mary was holding open.
“I’ll be back, Kingy…”
King didn’t respond. Mary flashed the duo on the table a wan smile before exiting the room.
Yuri didn’t know what to say… or if she should say anything at all, actually. She glanced over at the counter across the room and caught sight of a sealed plastic bag that contained King’s clothing. Next to it was a box that said, in big, bold letters, “SEXUAL ASSAULT EVIDENCE COLLECTION KIT.” She quickly looked away; she felt like she shouldn’t have seen that. She also felt like whoever was in charge of those boxes should have been more discreet with their choice of font.
“I got beat up,” King mumbled out of nowhere.
“What?” Yuri was taken aback by the unexpected statement.
“Beat up,” King repeated groggily. “Me. If anyone asks. Until I can think of something else.”
Yuri stared at her, concerned, and at a complete loss for words. She slowly nodded and hoped like hell that no one would ask.