The McLinden Misadventures

How Reigen Arataka Made One Of The Biggest Mistakes Of His Entire Life pt 1

Of course this place didn't have motorbike parking either.

Typical.

She'd just have to take her keys with her, lean her moped against the wall beside the door and, once again, hope and pray that nobody decided her main form of transport was good enough to steal.

She pulled off her helmet with a sigh and rested it on the seat, relieved to finally be able to unzip her jacket now that wind chill wasn't a factor anymore.

Before she entered the hospital, she checked the address she'd copied into her phone before leaving:

Floor 3
Ward 6
Ask at front desk if unsure

Hmm, maybe that would be a good idea anyway...

She didn't have to use her powers to feel the wariness surrounding her as she stepped into the reception lobby. Even if it weren't for her dyed hair and piercings, the paleness of her skin and electric blue eyes were so stark and different to the almost uniform dark hair and eyes around her that it was obvious, right away, that she wasn't from around here. That she didn't belong. At least one man scanned his eyes over her body, either in fear or in admiration, and a woman not-so-subtly told her child to stop staring at the strange foreigner.

To be honest, it was hard for her to care too much. If these people were uncomfortable just looking at her, then surely none of them would dare get close or speak to her. She could go about her own business in the comfort of prejudice.

Although it was a little difficult once she reached the reception desk.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

Ugh, no matter how hard she practiced the pronunciations, she could still hear the accent in her own voice.

To her relief, the receptionist politely looked up at her.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm looking for a Matthew Knott who works on the third floor," she explained. "He asked me to meet him. Any clue where he's at?"

"You'll have to book an appointment if you want to see a patient or a doctor," the receptionist replied curtly. "Our visiting hours are posted on our website and-"

"Mr. Knott's a nurse," she interrupted, sensing that once again, she was being dismissed. "He arranged to see me last week. He's expecting me here this afternoon to help with a patient in ward 6 on the third floor?" She pulled up a photo of the man she had been talking about. "I'm sure you recognise the bloke."

Even if the face in the photo was unfamiliar, the nurses' scrubs certainly were.

The receptionist frowned.

"Very well," he said. "He should be back in ward 6 now that lunchtime is over. You'll find a map just outside the elevator if you need it."

"Thank you!" She offered him a smile, knowing such friendliness would probably annoy him even more, and made a beeline for the nearest lift.

Even more stares followed her on the way. What was it that had them so distracted, she pondered as she hit the call button. The silver stud in her right nostril? The soft blue whorls inked onto her neck? The patches and flags stitched into her jacket sleeve? The fact that one of those flags was St Andrew's Cross in all of its blue and white glory? Maybe it was the shiny little barbell in her right eyebrow, or the fact that said eyebrow was a brilliant orange that furiously clashed with the black, purple and blue of the rest of her hair.

Whatever it was, she smiled in satisfaction as she stepped into the lift. Happily alone. Nobody daring to be in such a confined space with such a person so obviously dangerous, not to mention...