Inception

Chapter 48: Yay! Vomit!

Lena woke up then lay there, blank as paper.

Slowly, she processed the ceiling. It was the kind she'd only seen on tours of traditional Japanese buildings and older homes. All firm wood work. Her head turned fine, so she could see the walls were traditional to match, though the reference charts on the walls not so much. They were medical in nature, with multiple step procedures for compound fractures as well as detailed amounts of certain medicines or herbs Lena didn't pretend to know. Plant kaiju had yet to occur and Lena had been in a hurry for her dream life, so she'd skipped over botany.

Besides the wall, the room had older metal framed beds separated by curved racks that could have curtains clipped on. The only bed that was made up and set with a waiting curtain, though, was Lena's. She even had her own IV stand and drip, which, on squinting, told her she'd gone through a two bags, one of sucrose and multi-vitamin saline...sounded about right.

Slowly, she sat up. Nothing felt broken. Besides her brain. The sheets were nice, at least. And the quilt was one of those futon comforters. This one felt homemade and well worn, with butterfly fabric. She liked it more than she remembered ever liking butterflies. She'd always been more of a bird...

She stopped. Hard. Nope. Not ready. Not ready—

Too late.

It all flooded in too quick. All of it nightmarish, all of it world ending, but what finally got her diving for the little bamboo trash bin was the memory of the taste and smell of the mucous something she'd been bathed in.

And when more of that same stuff came up, it sent her retching harder than she ever had in her life. Even after not even bile would come up, she just kept dry heaving, unable to stop, tears and snot dripping into the mess. The world was spinning. She couldn't breathe.

"Whoa! Hey there!"

Footsteps thudded across the room. Lena fruitlessly retched again, even as warm hands got to work pulling back her hair, though it was too late to save it. Mucous was still on her head. Mucous and bile.

The humiliation of having someone else getting her disgusting sick all over their hands in order to pull back her hair made her wish she'd just died in that kaiju cave. Even having Leno or grandma be the ones to do it would have been bad enough, but the Vice Captain was the worst. A stranger would have been better.

Her attention came to more important matters when black started popping in the corners of her vision.

Oh lord, please don't let me pass out throwing up.

But the moment any air came into her lungs, some of the scent of that mucous and stomach acid just set another hard retch again. Her stomach felt like it would come flying out any second, tearing up whatever it could bring with it.

A warm, hard hand on her back stilled her quivering muscles. When it started rubbing circles, it gave her something to focus on, which she did so madly.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she was able to take her first breath of air.

Her first command of her body now rightfully in her power was to put her hand over her nose.

"The basket," she gasped.

"Right."

She heard him pick it up silently and vanish. Just as quickly, it seemed, he returned, and Lena got her first sight of him.

Hoshina Soshiro didn't look much different than he had the last time she'd seen him on his day off: jeans, plain t-shirt, and barefoot. Other than his still healing bruise on his face from his 'trip,' he didn't look all that bad for having gone toe-to-toe with No.9. He held some sort of disk made of woven shampoo and a little pail against his chest.

He smiled at her, the same smile he had whenever he greeted her.

"Am I a freak for thinking you're cute even with your face all red from puking and all puffy-eyed?"

Lena squawked and threw her arms around her face.

Hoshina laughed, loudly. 

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Still have tons of dishes to do and probably should start some laundry, but I want to play Zelda after working through all the must-do's of the morning, like school, breakfast, cleaning out the AC units, scriptures, and, you know, story updates. Scratch that, can I just stare at a wall? That's a mighty fine wall.