[ Nodding, he seems to accept that answer and leans back into the chair. ]
Isn't that something you should be asking an ophthalmologist and not me? I can see just fine, like I told you. My old doctor in Sotoba knew that better than anyone else and he was just a general practitioner.
[... he's an agent for the Foundation. He's been studying SCPs for the last few months. He himself is an instance, created by an SCP from fiction. The only reason he's denying the possible explanations for Natsuno's eyes is that he's still trying to think the way he did as a doctor and not an agent.
Erhard swallows and fixes the teenager with a stare as level as he can manage. He has to shatter his own reality in order to understand.]
Tapetum lucidum. Cat's eye. Your eyes are abnormal because... you're abnormal. You're not human.
[ The whole time Natsuno waits patiently, never breaking his gaze. Funny, he had played out this exact scenario once before in many parts. It all a bit silly really, to be going to these lengths and not just spit it out like he normally would. But is it his fault he wanted to draw out what happened to a pleasant memory?
Thinking of Tohru makes him bitter and angry. Thinking of Akira and Kaori makes him feel heavy and weighted down. Thinking of Ozaki well—it's enough to bring him some twisted sense of joy in how they managed to eradicate a living plague upon Sotoba together. Who cares if that plague was made up of trillions and trillions of cells instead of a virus?
His lips press together in a thin smile, and his eyes gleam bright red. ]
Nice job, sensei. The Ozaki Clinic really could have used someone like you around.
[Erhard's lips press into a thin line as well, but he doesn't smile. He never does, why start now? It's to his benefit that he doesn't feel fear the way most people do, rarely shows it outwardly, but this is one of those rare moments where apprehension kicks all of his analytical faculties into high gear.
Of course, those faculties are still screaming that this is impossible, it's not medical science, it's not happening. If he accepts it, then all his denials will come crashing down at once, and certainly that will trigger an identity crisis the likes of which he can't imagine. It will force him to acknowledge that he was made to suffer at some cruel creator's whim, no omniscient god but a flawed human being.
Red eyes meet red eyes. For a moment, Erhard wonders if he's always been a monster and only now realizes it from looking into an inhuman mirror. Natsuno has always been quiet, an observer on the fringes. Is he actually one of their captors?]
This isn't a horror movie, but really, can he say that for certain? He's fictional, they all are. Every messed up part of their lives was crafted and forced onto them. They danced to their fates like puppets on tangled strings.
"Monster!"
"He'll kill us one day, I just know it!"
Erhard winces as the distorted voices shoot through his thoughts. He doesn't recognize them, but they sit perched on his brain, waiting for him to go mad. He's a scientist of a sort, seeking knowledge to lead him and all those like him toward a singular goal: to conquer death. His own life means little beyond that.
His hands clench in his lap. He swallows back the anxiety and forces out two words that he knows could lead him to ruin.]
[ All of his life, he's had a problem with authority and societal norms. Respect others, work for the group not yourself, do what is asked of you. They're all things Natsuno hates, not because he's opposed to doing them, but because he's opposed to doing them because it's what it is expected. Erhard's words are another ask, another interaction he wants to turn down because he sees no immediate justification in doing it. Worse yet, beyond all of that? It's dangerous.
There's no point. There's no point in pleasantries when you don't actually give a damn about someone, there's no point in accepting a gift from a dead girl who stalked you day in and day out. There's no point in giving in to the curiosity of someone who puts knowledge first and everything else last. Even if they remind him of the only other person who's never questioned him before.There's really no point. Except—
The hunger in his core pulses violently, crawling from his chest to his extremities. How long had it been since he's eaten? "Too long", supplies a voice in his head. "What's stopping you?" supplies another. The answer is on his tongue, even as he feels incisors slide down and his vision tint with deep blues that aren't necessary in this bright light. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he looks like—what he feels like—schlera black, irises red, needle shark fangs protruding from his lips.
By the time his mind's voice answers, he's already moved from the chair, lighting fast, hands pulling at white course fabric. His grip loosens as, but not before offering a glimpse of what strength hides behind muscles that shouldn't hold any at all. ]
You should be more careful, sensei. Curiosity could cost you your life, like it did for me.
[Vampire, his numbed brain helpfully supplies. Of course that's what he is. It shouldn't be shocking when none of us are even real.
Red and red, black and white... they remain locked, and if Natsuno knows what it's like to feel tired of life, he can see that same despair in Erhard's eyes. The doctor hides most of that bleakness from the others, but now in the face of a lethal threat, there's no point.
The words come softly, flat and lifeless, and he's so tired.]
That's one of the reasons. [ But if it's a secret, it's not one he's doing a very good job at keeping. That's fine, though. Plopping back down into the chair, he manages to suppress his sclera back to white. The red irises and fangs will stay for now, even if he's dangerously close to cutting the inside of his lip to take some of the edge off of what he's feeling currently. ]
Yet you didnโt attack me. Are the servants giving you blood, or is this solely your willpower?
[Already heโs doing mental calculations. The average adult male can lose one unit of blood safely, two with minimal danger. Three would put him in need of hospitalization and a transfusion. Just how strong is Natsunoโs will, or is he actually a killer?
No. Just because I'm not an obligate carnivore doesn't mean that I'm an omnivore. [ That comes out rather snappy because yeah he can do it, but by any measure he's not exactly thriving either. ]
Why? [ It's not a no, but it's not a yes either. ]
Because I want to understand. If I can help you somehow, good. Even if death can't be cured, I might find a way to further control your desire to feed. If not... maybe I can at least do something to stop this from killing others.
[This has nothing to do with ego or prestige. Someone is suffering, and Erhard wants to help.]
I don't want your help anymore than I want theirs. [ He stands up again, less sudden this time, but still forcefully. The tube of ointment goes into his pocket. He got what he came here for. ]
Don't worry sensei- [ This time the honorific is almost mocking. ] I did everything I could to stop the undead before I died. That hasn't changed.
[The mocking tone doesn't bother him. They're both distant people, just in different ways. Erhard doesn't do anything to restrain Natsuno from leaving, but there's a strange distance in his eyes, as if he's not seeing the teenager anymore. It's not a thousand yard stare, it's further than that.]
... because you feel you should be punished for your failings... for existing.
[ Natsuno stops at the doorway, hand outstretched over the doorknob. Eyes narrowing, he looks over his shoulder, completely human looking once more. ]
Because I made the mistake of giving up once before. Guess that's the same thing. [ However cold the statement is, there's an edge of smoldering anger underneath. He's said more than enough, and with that, Natsuno leaves. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[He imagined it, that's all. Humans don't have eyeshine.
But there are nonhumans in the Foundation. Shadow isn't anywhere near human. Which means Natsuno could be....]
I'm a general surgeon. I also studied virology. Why do your eyes reflect like that?
no subject
Isn't that something you should be asking an ophthalmologist and not me? I can see just fine, like I told you. My old doctor in Sotoba knew that better than anyone else and he was just a general practitioner.
no subject
Erhard swallows and fixes the teenager with a stare as level as he can manage. He has to shatter his own reality in order to understand.]
Tapetum lucidum. Cat's eye. Your eyes are abnormal because... you're abnormal. You're not human.
no subject
Thinking of Tohru makes him bitter and angry. Thinking of Akira and Kaori makes him feel heavy and weighted down. Thinking of Ozaki well—it's enough to bring him some twisted sense of joy in how they managed to eradicate a living plague upon Sotoba together. Who cares if that plague was made up of trillions and trillions of cells instead of a virus?
His lips press together in a thin smile, and his eyes gleam bright red. ]
Nice job, sensei. The Ozaki Clinic really could have used someone like you around.
no subject
Of course, those faculties are still screaming that this is impossible, it's not medical science, it's not happening. If he accepts it, then all his denials will come crashing down at once, and certainly that will trigger an identity crisis the likes of which he can't imagine. It will force him to acknowledge that he was made to suffer at some cruel creator's whim, no omniscient god but a flawed human being.
Red eyes meet red eyes. For a moment, Erhard wonders if he's always been a monster and only now realizes it from looking into an inhuman mirror. Natsuno has always been quiet, an observer on the fringes. Is he actually one of their captors?]
... what are you...?
no subject
Something that shouldn't exist. The dead are never meant to come back to life, but we did anyway.
no subject
This isn't a horror movie, but really, can he say that for certain? He's fictional, they all are. Every messed up part of their lives was crafted and forced onto them. They danced to their fates like puppets on tangled strings.
"Monster!"
"He'll kill us one day, I just know it!"
Erhard winces as the distorted voices shoot through his thoughts. He doesn't recognize them, but they sit perched on his brain, waiting for him to go mad. He's a scientist of a sort, seeking knowledge to lead him and all those like him toward a singular goal: to conquer death. His own life means little beyond that.
His hands clench in his lap. He swallows back the anxiety and forces out two words that he knows could lead him to ruin.]
Show me.
no subject
There's no point. There's no point in pleasantries when you don't actually give a damn about someone, there's no point in accepting a gift from a dead girl who stalked you day in and day out. There's no point in giving in to the curiosity of someone who puts knowledge first and everything else last. Even if they remind him of the only other person who's never questioned him before.There's really no point.
Except—
The hunger in his core pulses violently, crawling from his chest to his extremities. How long had it been since he's eaten? "Too long", supplies a voice in his head. "What's stopping you?" supplies another. The answer is on his tongue, even as he feels incisors slide down and his vision tint with deep blues that aren't necessary in this bright light. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he looks like—what he feels like—schlera black, irises red, needle shark fangs protruding from his lips.
By the time his mind's voice answers, he's already moved from the chair, lighting fast, hands pulling at white course fabric. His grip loosens as, but not before offering a glimpse of what strength hides behind muscles that shouldn't hold any at all. ]
You should be more careful, sensei. Curiosity could cost you your life, like it did for me.
no subject
Red and red, black and white... they remain locked, and if Natsuno knows what it's like to feel tired of life, he can see that same despair in Erhard's eyes. The doctor hides most of that bleakness from the others, but now in the face of a lethal threat, there's no point.
The words come softly, flat and lifeless, and he's so tired.]
I'm practically dead anyway.
no subject
I'd tell you to join the club, but it's really not all it's made out to be.
no subject
Understandable why you would keep this a secret. The others would consider you a prime suspect if someone else dies.
[If, not when. He has to believe the tragedy of the weekend wonโt be repeated. Otherwise he might lose what little hope he has.]
How long have you been like this?
no subject
A few months.ย
no subject
[Already heโs doing mental calculations. The average adult male can lose one unit of blood safely, two with minimal danger. Three would put him in need of hospitalization and a transfusion. Just how strong is Natsunoโs will, or is he actually a killer?
Did he murder Erika?]
no subject
I don't want their help. Jinrou don't need blood to survive like Shiki, being here hasn't changed that.
no subject
[Which means cravings, maybe withdrawal symptoms. Natsuno is calm and rational, which is a good sign.]
Iโm not familiar with the terms you used. Can you tell me the difference between Jinrou and Shiki?
no subject
Why? [ It's not a no, but it's not a yes either. ]
no subject
[This has nothing to do with ego or prestige. Someone is suffering, and Erhard wants to help.]
no subject
Don't worry sensei- [ This time the honorific is almost mocking. ] I did everything I could to stop the undead before I died. That hasn't changed.
no subject
... because you feel you should be punished for your failings... for existing.
no subject
Because I made the mistake of giving up once before. Guess that's the same thing. [ However cold the statement is, there's an edge of smoldering anger underneath. He's said more than enough, and with that, Natsuno leaves. ]