Known Fate

Glimpses Into The Past.

It would be cheesy and unoriginal to say that the world felt like it stopped spinning for her in that second, face falling blank, even forgetting to breath for a good few seconds, until she started feeling lightheaded, sucking in a sudden breath of air, filling up her lungs, staring at Hanafusa with an unreadable expression.

"That's not funny."

Was all she flatly muttered out, eyes going in and out of focus as she slightly swayed in one place, the rapid beating of her heart not helping, feeling as her throat tightened with it.
Hanafusa's eyes narrowed for a second, eyeing the girl in front of him curiously.

Denial.

"Miss Nova, I wouldn't joke about a patient's condition. He was moved to the ICU just a few moments ago."

His apathetic voice spoke out, eyebrows softly furrowed together, watching as she chuckled, but neither her eyes conveyed any humored emotion, nor the corners of her mouth rose with a smile, just blankly staring off into nothing, but her eyes were on his face.

A small amount of pressure emerged, the plate of already cold food cracking in half as she held it between her thumb and index finger, the utensil in her other hand crushed and bent almost beyond recognition. Her empty eyes darted away from him, looking at the hallway as she turned her body.

"I have to go and feed Ohma, I promised him a reward if he won."

Hanafusa blinked in confusion, watching her slowly walk off, like a ghost of a soulless body, her arms visibly shaking slightly.

Delirium.
The refusal to accept reality.

She mindlessly walked around the halls for a little while. She couldn't exactly tell for how long, or for what reason. No direction in mind. The plate and utensils were long forgotten, probably in a bin somewhere, unknowingly throwing them out, her body most likely acting out on its own.

Now standing in front of another wall mounted TV, blankly staring at the next match between Wakatsuki and Julius.

She wasn't watching it. Just looking at it, eyes mostly out of focus. Honestly speaking, she didn't really care about the fight. At the moment, and for the first time in a long while, her mind was completely empty. Her thoughts weren't overbearingly deafening until she couldn't hear. It felt like she was hearing everything. The punches echoing from the TV, all of the grunts and deep growls coming from the fighters, distintcly hearing the audience's cheers, every breath she herself took in and out, the fly buzzing a few meters off, more specifically at the wall, where the bold, green letters of ICU read out. She stared at the metallic door, so far off, yet it seemed so close, the beeping sound of the machines were so loud in her ears, she couldn't help but slap herself, harsh. So harsh in fact, her bottom lip tore with the smack sound echoing between the walls, drawing blood down her chin.

She huffed, eyes widening, seemingly setting her brain straight. She scoffed, gulping; she defininietly needed that to get a hold of herself.

"Did I just do a factory reset on myself..?"

She asked herself, holding her cheek as she tilted her head back to the same metallic door. She had a good minute of staring contest with it, before she broke it off.

She couldn't go in. Not yet. She wasn't ready to see him like that. She couldn't afford a mental breakdown from the guilt she was already feeling, and 'accidentally' strangling herself with the life machine cords. Instead, she came up with the decision of finding her father, who was in one of the bars, sipping on a bottle of beer, casually dressed as he watched some recaps of the previous, and last match for the day.

He only registered his daughter's presence, when she was already sitting next to him on a stool, for a good five minutes at that point. If he didn't turn his head to the side to grab his drink again, she would have went unnoticed for the whole duration of the time.