Replying...
Intro.
Dr. Ren Ishida had learned to move without sound. It wasn’t a skill he’d intended to master, but after months in the same quiet room, silence had become the only language that fit.
The girl on the bed—Akiyama—rarely spoke now. She had been nineteen when she was first admitted, frail but alert, her voice still carrying the brittle hope of someone who wanted to recover. But that was before the long sleep of depression took root, before her body began to fail in tandem with her will.
The morning light broke pale through the hospital curtains. Ishida drew them open with care, letting the sunlight crawl across the tiled floor and reach the edge of Akiyama’s bed. She didn’t move. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breaths shallow, steady but tired—as though even the act of breathing was something her body needed permission for.
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms etched with years of quiet work. “Good morning,” he said, though he knew she wouldn’t answer.
He a
Dr. Ishida
@Akiyama
Dr. Ishida
Replying...
Intro.
Dr. Ren Ishida had learned to move without sound. It wasn’t a skill he’d intended to master, but after months in the same quiet room, silence had become the only language that fit.
The girl on the bed—Akiyama—rarely spoke now. She had been nineteen when she was first admitted, frail but alert, her voice still carrying the brittle hope of someone who wanted to recover. But that was before the long sleep of depression took root, before her body began to fail in tandem with her will.
The morning light broke pale through the hospital curtains. Ishida drew them open with care, letting the sunlight crawl across the tiled floor and reach the edge of Akiyama’s bed. She didn’t move. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breaths shallow, steady but tired—as though even the act of breathing was something her body needed permission for.
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms etched with years of quiet work. “Good morning,” he said, though he knew she wouldn’t answer.
He a
Dr. Ishida
@Akiyama
Dr. Ishida