Over the course of the next few days, I was put through a lot of tests. Physical tests, moving, lifting things, seeing how far my muscles had atrophied. Fortunately, I had some kind of miraculous healing. It prevented any muscular atrophy in my body. The doctors were baffled with it all. They took my blood, tested it but couldn’t find anything.

My primary doctor wanted to keep me in. He told Sora that they needed to know what had caused me to not lose any of my muscles after being in a coma for two weeks. He told him that it was mutating parts of my DNA. For a real moment, I was afraid that Sora would agree to it. I did not want to have to run away from having a place that I could live at. I knew that they could experiment on me and I did not want to go through that torture.

Luckily for me Sora asked them if it was negatively impacting my health and they told him no. He did not give them permission. They then tried to tell him about the oddities in my DNA. He immediately realized that they were trying to keep me not for my health but for something else.

In a decision that I thought he wouldn’t make due to the way he seemed to be, he told them to either leave me alone or get sued.

Today was the day of my discharge and he was now wheeling me out of the hospital. As I was being rolled into the edge of the sidewalk, I felt eyes on me. I looked towards where I felt them coming from and saw my doctor, Dr. Mochizuki staring at me, his glasses seemed to be glinting blue in the light. From above me came, “Is everything alright, August-Chan?”

I shook my head at him, not wanting to detain him at this hospital any longer. My paranoia shouldn’t be a reason that he misses work, yet again. He pushed me off and I gave him a smile, taking the worry lines away from his face.

I had not even been with Sora for a week, but he had already put me close to him. To Sora, I was family. I, in the span of only 5 days, have become quite close to the constant worrier that is Sora Inoue.

Since the bathroom incident, Orihime had not come back to the hospital. This would be the first time that we would see each other since then. I hopped out of the wheelchair, eager to get out of it. It felt wrong not to be walking under my own power.

I walked over to Sora’s car, as he gave the wheelchair to a nurse, having seen a picture of it on his flip-phone. It is a light blue 4-seater Volkswagen. It was actually quite a nice car for the time. He walked to the car, getting in and driving off.

*************************************************************************************************************

We were getting close to the apartment building, a clinic sign for the Kurosaki clinic clued me in. The line for the clinic was half a block long. The anime did not show anything about Isshin’s medical skills, besides that one scene in the fourth episode. For this many to show up, he must be amazing. “Sora?” I said, trying to get his attention.

“Yes, August?” He asked, looking at the road.

“What is that?” I asked, pointing at the line, trying to get info on the Kurosaki’s before I interacted with them.

He smiled at me, warmly. “That is the Kurosaki clinic line! The man that runs the clinic, Kurosaki-Sama is an amazing man. He has saved many lives since he moved here more than a decade ago. He charges a lot less than a hospital and is a lot easier to work with. If you ever get a bad cut or are sick, I will be taking you there.”

I was surprised at the amount of faith that poured out of Sora. From what I knew of the anime, Isshin was a serious wife-con, who continually fought with Ichigo and couldn’t stand the thought of his daughters growing up. From his treatment of Chad, I could tell that he was a good doctor but not enough to get this many people to be looking forward to going to him instead of a hospital.

He had a lot of people pinning their hopes, their faith on him. He must be a much better doctor than I thought. I was going to look away when I saw a beautiful woman, Masaki Kurosaki. From what I saw, she was walking to each person, greeting them and writing their names on a list.

Unlike the nurse at the hospital and the people that I saw on the street, she had a thickness about her, a deepness to her. Her color had a depth to it that I had not seen on anyone else that I had seen or met. How… Why was this? I did not notice the red in my eyes, reflected in the window as I stared at the Quincy.