Chapter Text
The child is underweight for his age group, Ōgai notes. Unsurprising of course, yet still all the more frustrating. It’ll take months to bring the boy to an acceptable weight, perhaps even longer with how reluctant he seems to be of any food given to him. Only when coerced does he eat.
Undeserving, the child whispers. A waste, he cries. A burden, he wails.
Tedious, is what Ōgai thinks. He sets the clipboard down against the sterilized countertops of his small clinic. The rhythmic sound of the clock hangs heavy in the air, its soft ticks filling the cramped room.
Ōgai prys a look to Atsushi, the small boy standing still on the scale, waiting for Ōgai to direct him to sit down. At least he’s somewhat trained, the doctor muses, lips quirking upwards.
The child’s eyes are cast downwards, a look of shame filling them and Ōgai’s amusement quickly morphs into that of irritation. Sighing, he taps his fingers against the white surface of the counter, noting the tenseness of the boy’s shoulders.
“Atsushi,” he whispers, it’s soft, and Ōgai laces it with as much warmth as he can possibly muster. The act is becoming very old very quick, but if he wants results, he supposes, he’ll just have to power through."Why don’t you take a seat? We’re almost done with your check up, just a few more things then we’ll head home.” Giving a brief pause, he lets a faint smile decorate his face. “I think I have some candy I can give you once we’re done. You’ve been a very good patient.” Atsushi peeks up at Ōgai, eyes unsure and unconvinced of his words. He nods, lifting himself up on the exam table as he does so, the waxy paper crinkly against the weight of his small frame.
“Rintarou!” Ōgai turns to the source, Elise, standing up from her chair, “I want some too! You said I could have one if I was good!” Ōgai nods, raising his hands to calm the young girl.
“Of course, of course Elise-chan. How could I forget?’ He moves to the cabinet and pulls out a small tray of syringes. “Give us one moment though. Atsushi here still needs his vaccines, then afterwards it’s lollipops.” Giving a huff, Elise collapses back into the chair, glaring at Atsushi, the clear cause for her lack of candy. Atsushi only flinches, wringing his stubby fingers together into a tight ball. Almost like a prayer.
“Atsushi, roll up your sleeve please.” The doctor grabs an alcohol wipe ripping open the thin layer of plastic. He walks over to the child, kneeling down as he tenderly wipes the exposed skin of his shoulder. It’s completely tense, the muscles pulled together in a taut manner. Ōgai gives a click of his tongue, “You’ll need to loosen up Atsushi. It’ll only hurt more if your shoulders are too stiff.”
Atsushi opens his mouth clearly wanting to say something before instantly closing it back again. He glances away, shoulder still tense.
“Atsushi,” Ōgai drawls, annoyance building up in his gut, “if there’s something you would like to say, I would prefer you voice it now. We don’t have all day.”
Swallowing Atsushi speaks up, “I-” he stops short, gripping at his fingers, practically shaking with anxiety, “I don’t want to get my shots.” It’s barely a mumble, more a garble of words, thrown up from the deepest depths of the boy’s mind.
“That’s stupid. You’ll get sick if you don’t.” Elise pipes up, kicking her legs against the chair, clearly impatient. Ōgai gives her a dry look before turning his attention back to the boy in front.
The good doctor heaves a great sigh, “Why don't you want to get your shots Atsushi?”
Atsushi mutters something, too quiet to understand.
“Could you repeat that Atsushi, I didn’t quite hear you. You’ll need to speak more clearly for me to understand.”
‘“They hurt.” he says simply.
Ōgai gives a soft chuckle, “They only hurt because you’re too tense. I’m sure if you loosen up you won't even feel it.” Atsushi shakes his head, refusing to listen. The man has half a mind to jab the needle into the boy's arm right then and there, but he doesn't.
It's taken too long for Atsushi to trust him, stabbing him with a needle now would only set him months back, perhaps even longer. Patience, he reminds himself.
“I hated getting my shots too when I was your age, you know.” A thinly veiled look of disbelief crosses Atsushi’s face. The sight is almost comical and Ōgai can’t help but lightly chuckle. “Very hard to believe I’m sure, but I really did. My father would have to hold my arm to make sure I didn’t move.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
A new look of awe now dawns the boy’s expression, as if the man has given the child the world and more. His mouth hangs open and Ōgai can practically see the gears and cogs turn in this small boy’s head. The man leans forward now face to face with Atsushi. A sunset stares into a sea of red.
Ōgai leans in. “Do you want to know how I learned not to be scared?” Atsushi gives a hurried nod, canting his body forward. It was almost charming with how easy the boy was to placate. “I simply looked away.”
The frowns, biting his lip unsure of Ōgai’s words.
“Would you like to try Atsushi?” He asks, picking up a syringe. He waits a moment for the boy's answer. Atsushi gives a long pause, contemplating before he finally nods, and holds his arm out for the doctor.
Ōgai raises the needle “Take deep breaths now Atsushi. And count to five for me in your head, okay?”
“Okay.” The boy responds. He takes a deep breath finally letting the frail muscles of his arm loosen.
“One,” Ōgai begins, Atsushi swivels his head away, eyes squinting at the floor, “two-” The doctor immediately jabs the needle in the child's arm before the boy can even comprehend what has occurred. His entire body seizes but Ōgai is already yanking the needle out and applying a light blue bandaid on the surface of the broken skin.
“Now that wasn't too bad was it?” He smiles calmly down at Atsushi, “I knew you could do it. I'm so very proud of you.” The doctor makes sure to emphasize the last part, letting his words wash over the boy. Atsushi's mouth hangs open in response, tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. For a moment Ōgai thinks it must be due to the prick of the needle but Atsushi quickly sniffs, shifting away as heat rises in his cheeks.
“It didn't hurt that much.” The boy mumbles lightly, swinging one of his legs.
Ōgai smiles, “I'm sure.” He agrees. “You're very brave.” Atsushi's face only grows a deeper shade of red, an expression of disbelief filling in his features.
“Really?”
“Really.” Atsushi looks at Ōgai as if he has hung each and every star in the sky. That is their new little dynamic now it seems, he muses. Ōgai will say one thing and the boy will hold onto each and every word as if it is a secret to be guarded, as if there is nothing in this world that can compare. Ōgai is Atsushi’s little secret and the man can't help but feel the same.
Mine all mine a voice trills. The doctor doesn't know what to make of the voice or even what it must truly mean but something deep inside his very being trembles in agreement. Atsushi is his guarded little secret. Atsushi is his, all his.