{These characters are not property of me. I would never attempt to claim them as my own. This story may not be used without my permission, and may not be used to make money in any way, shape or form. Characters and certain situations were created by Rumiko Takahashi, so don't try any funny stuff!}

Nabiki opened her eyes to the bright morning sunshine. She stretched briefly in Tatewaki's arms before attempting to get out of bed. She paused for a moment when she saw the tray with breakfast on it sitting on her desk. She smiled and silently thanked Kasumi.

"Tate-chan, wake up." She shook him lightly. "Come on, Tate-chan. Get up."

His eyes opened and he smiled at her. "Good morning." He sat up, pushing the blankets back, and stretched.

Nabiki watched all the muscles in his chest stand out and blushed when he caught her looking. She recovered. "Kasumi brought us breakfast, and we should really get up and around." She got out of bed, still conscious of the fact she was mostly undressed. She started to get out her clean clothes when something occurred to her. "How did Kasumi get in here anyway?"

"Oh, well, last night I woke up and had to use the bathroom. I guess I left the door unlatched when I came back."

"Ah." She looked at her clothes then back at Tatewaki. "Could you cover your eyes?"

"Of course." He pulled the blankets up and over his eyes.

Nabiki kept her eyes on him as she changed. While she thought he looked very cute with the blankets over his head, she just couldn't imagine having him watch her change, having him see her naked. She slipped on her shirt. "OK, you can look now."

He pulled down the blanket, brushing the hair from his eyes. "What time is it?"

"We've got about 30 minutes, so get moving."

"Yes, ma'am." He got out of the futon, frowning a little when he saw her look away. He got out his little stash of clean clothing he left at the house in case of emergency. "I'll just go and change in the other room."

Silently, Nabiki thought about her feelings, the turmoil in her the previous night. She had enjoyed being near him when they were undressed, she liked touching him, she liked seeing him. "You.. you don't have to."

Tatewaki stopped at the door and looked at her. "You mean that?"

"Yeah, I do."

He went and set his clothes on the futon and faced Nabiki. She watched him, a little frightened, more curious, as he started to pull down his shorts. It was Tatewaki's turn to be embarassed, though he knew he'd rather be undressing for Nabiki than the goons at the hospital.

Once his shorts were on the floor, he stood still for her. "You're definitely better looking than the orderly assigned to my room."

"Orderly?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

"Yeah. He'd watch us whenever we, you know..." He blushed, but she wasn't sure why. "Took showers and stuff." It had been humiliating, being watched while he cleaned himself, but it had been his punishment he had to accept.

"Was it bad in there?"

"I hated it. Every minute I was in there was one minute too long. I never got to use the phone or write letters or anything, we got one 15 minute visit from one member of our family a week and we were locked in our rooms most of the time."

Nabiki looked horrified. "I thought you said it helped."

"It did, but it was one of the most horrible experiences of my life."

It was a public hospital, not a private one, but he didn't have any say in the matter. The building was big and ugly with bars on every window. He watched from the back of the car, anger and outrage wanting to spill forth. There was one thing that held them back: fear.

The car stopped in front of a set of huge double doors, paned with safety glass, and the officers in the front of the car got out. They opened his door and took hold of his arms when he got out. He wanted to protest his treatment, demand his release, but when he saw their unemotional eyes and heard the disgust in their voices, the words died on his lips.

He was escorted through the outer doors and the even heavier inner doors. They stopped in front of a desk with a bored looking woman sitting behind it. "Dropping off Kuno, Tatewaki," one of the officers said.

The woman looked at the officer. "He's expected." The woman pushed a small button and a buzzer could be heard in the distance. One of the officers placed a thick stack of papers in front of the woman, who began looking through them.

A heavy security door opened and a man larger than any he had seen before, aside from sumo wrestlers, walked in. The man's eyes settled immediately on him.

"Akira, room 377. And he needs to go through the admission process."

"I can see that," Akira said in a voice that sounded like an earthquake. Akira stepped up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Gripping it securely, he said "Let's go, boy."

When Akira called him 'boy' was when he started to break down. As he was guided to the security door he wanted to threaten them all, make them let him go... But he was not a man with power, he was not rich, he was not his father... He was only 17.

The door opened and he tried to resist, but Akira was far too strong. "Too late for that, boy. Don't make me do this the hard way," Akira warned, and he stopped resisting.

The two walked through the door and it shut behind them. He had never felt more scared or alone in his life. The hand on his shoulder tightened, and he was steered towards a door that read 'New Admissions' in faded black paint.

Akira knocked twice and opened the door, forcing him inside. "This is the new one," Akira announced.

Two people, a thin old man and a large caucasian woman, both stood up and looked at him with interest. "New one, eh? Been a while for anyone new," the woman said in perfect Japanese.

The old man nodded his head in agreement.

"Well here he is," answered Akira. "Take good care of him. He seems to be a bit of a rabbit." Akira leaned over and talked to him quietly. "You try anything funny in here and I will personally end your walking days. Understand?"

He nodded, wondering what was meant by rabbit.

"Aw, he doesn't look like anything I can't handle," the woman said, smiling at him.

Akira nodded, grinning at the woman, and left the room.

"So why don't we get started?" The woman looked at the old man. "Why don't you do his hair while I print up his ID tags?" The woman sat down in front of her computer and pulled up the file Koriko at the front desk had just finished typing up.

The old man pushed a chair to the center of the room. "Take off your shirt and sit here," the man ordered him.

He pulled off the top he had worn since he had left General and handed it to the old man. The man tossed it into a trash can. He sat in the chair, not knowing what to expect.

"Tatewaki Kuno? That's a nice name," the woman said, still looking at the screen. "And a green too. That's what I like to see."

"Green?" he asked, the woman's friendly manner putting him slightly at ease.

"That means they don't think you're a danger. We can give you some normal clothes and you won't try to hang yourself or anyone else with them." The woman never turned away from the monitor and set an odd-looking machine next to the computer to work. It made a soft whirring sound for a few seconds then a horrible *chunk*ing noise.

The sound of electric shears in his ear made him jump.

"What's wrong? Don't like haircuts?" the woman asked.

He shook his head, all the times his father had cut his hair coming back to him.

"Well don't worry. We only do it once for new admissions. Takes care of vermin..."

'Vermin.' The word echoed in his head.

"If you're good, it's the only time it will happen."

He nodded and tried to brace himself in the chair for the unpleasant sensation. The old man brought the shears to his head and he felt 85% of his hair drop off.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" the woman asked. The machine had stopped its noises and spit out two plastic bands.

"I guess not," he answered. The act of cutting wasn't as bad as the end result.

The woman collected the strips of plastic and walked towards him. "Now we'll just put these on you..." One strip was placed around his wrist and the end was slipped through the hard plastic slot. The woman lined up the holes and and inserted small plastic pegs through several of them. Caps were placed on each peg and snapped into place. The extra length of band was removed and the bracelet was now locked on his wrist. The woman repeated the process for his other wrist.

He looked at the bands. They were white except for the green label. On the label was his name and a barcode. There was also a long string of numbers, the three at the end being 377.

"Come on, still got stuff to do," the woman said cheerfully. The old man had hold of his arm and was pulling him.

He stood up and scratched his head; the crewcut of his youth coming back to haunt him. He was led to a small room, with a shower against the back wall. A huge metal cabinet, touched with rust, was against the opposite wall.

The woman walked past him and opened the cabinet. He could see inside there were shelves filled with clothing and towels. The woman looked him over, then pulled out some clothing. The woman looked him over again. "Take 'em off."

"What?"

"You heard me, take those off." The woman gestured to the lightweight pants he was wearing.

He hesitated for a moment, then thought about what Akira had said. He removed the pants and tried to control his embarassment. The two didn't bother to look at him, he was not the first they had done this to.

"Now go shower. Make sure you wash real good, because you probably won't get to wash yourself as often as you're used to," the woman warned. She held out some soap and a small bottle of shampoo.

He took both items then stepped back under the nozzle. He showered quickly and efficiently, washing what was left of his hair. He turned off the water and stepped back. He turned around and caught the towel thrown at him.

"Once you're dressed, we'll give you a physical and send you to your room," the woman said, watching him dry himself off.

He finished and took the clothes from the woman. He put on the pants first, tying the string tight. Then he slipped on the shirt. They were ivory colored and very baggy on him. The short sleeved top hung down below his waist and the pants dragged on the floor.

"Almost done now. Come back out here."

He was led back to the chair and sat down.

"We'll get a blood sample first..." The woman held his arm. He never saw where the woman produced the needle from, but before he could react, it was in his arm.

Thirty minutes later, after poking, prodding, weighing, and recording numbers, the exam was done. "You're one of the most physically healthy people I've looked at," the woman said, taking care of all the used instruments. "Akira will take you to your room now."

"But what..."

"He'll explain how things work around here."

The old man opened the door to the hall and Akira walked in.

"All finished, Akira. He's ready to go," the woman said. "And good luck, Tatewaki Kuno. Take care of that tight, little body of yours."

Then Akira took him from the room.

They rode the elevator in silence, though the pounding of his heart was deafening. Even in the thin clothing he was hot; he felt like he was sweating a river. "Uh," he finally got the nerve to say.

"What is it, boy?"

"When do I..."

"Your daily schedule and all rules will be explained by the orderly on duty. You're lucky. They think you're just screwed up and not dangerous. 377 is an easy room, you'll be all safe and cushy there." Akira looked at him. "Don't mess up. If they have to change your room... I've seen guys on the second floor that would make your hair turn white." Akira turned away when the fear surfaced in his eyes.

He had to wonder... Patients or orderlies on the second floor? Either way, he didn't think he wanted to be there.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The two of them stepped out and walked down the hall. Door after door they passed, all featureless except for the small window and handle. Sometimes there were faces peering out at them.

Down another hall, passing several orderlies in their white pants and blue shirts, ID badges attached to their collars. One of them caught Akira's eye. "Kenzo, this is the new one."

"377?"

Akira nodded as all three converged in the hallway. "He's been good so far."

Kenzo looked him over. "Good to hear. I'll take him now, if you want."

"Thanks. Still up for the bar later?"

"You know it."

Akira walked back towards the elevator, leaving him alone in the hall with Kenzo.

"So 377, how do you like our little establishment?"

He shrugged.

"Still shy? We'll get you loosened up in no time."

He was a bit scared by what the orderly meant. He didn't really want to be 'loosened up' in any way. He swallowed. "Akira said you would explain things to me."

"He did? Well, 377, I suppose I can give you that much." Kenzo steered him down a different hall. "Every morning, 6:00 AM, I wake you up. You get 15 minutes to get yourself ready to greet the day. If one of those days happens to be Monday, Wednesday, Friday or Sunday, you will be escorted to the shower. You will receive clean clothing then, as well." They stopped in front of a door.

"After you clean yourself, you will be taken to breakfast." Kenzo pulled out his keyring. "The doctor will dictate the rest of your morning after you eat. At 12:30, lunch will be served. Afternoons are dictated by the doctor as well." Kenzo unlocked and opened the door. He stepped inside, not waiting for Kenzo's instruction. "At 6:00 PM, you eat dinner and I change shifts." Kenzo began to close the door.

"But what about..."

"The doctor will be able to tell you more." Kenzo shut the door and locked it, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He had put on his clean shorts and was sitting on the futon, a pained look on his face. Nabiki sat next to him and put her arm around him.

"What... What was it like?" she asked.

"I remember the first time with the doctor... It was torture. All he wanted to talk about was my family and they were the last thing I wanted anyone to talk about." He laid back on the futon and covered his eyes with his arm.

"When I refused to talk about them, he... he blamed everything on me. He called me weak and stupid. I got very angry. You can imagine how I was."

Nabiki nodded.

"They didn't take kindly to my outburst."

"You dare call me weak?" He stood up, his anger boiling over. He wasn't about to let any doctor insult him in such a manner. "You wish to taste my wrath?" He was yelling.

He advanced on the doctor, his hands clenched into fists. The doctor watched him, showing no fear or concern. He grabbed the doctor's coat before the door burst open and an orderly rushed in. He felt a pinprick in his arm and then nothing.

"They went easy on you, 377. I knew you were a tiger, not a rabbit."

He opened his eyes, finding himself strapped to his bed. Kenzo was there, checking on him.

"I like your spirit, but I can't go against doctor's orders." Kenzo patted his leg. "Just so you know, I probably would have done the same thing." Kenzo left the room and locked the door.

"Oh, Tate-chan. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I deserved it."

"No, you didn't."

"I don't want you to defend me. It was my own doing. I shouldn't have been so stubborn." He left his eyes covered.

"Look, 377. You can't just fly off the handle like that. You have to learn to control your anger. That's part of the reason you're here, isn't it?" Kenzo was unstrapping him. "If you keep doing it, they'll think you're dangerous. They'll change you from green to red and move you to the second floor." The straps across his chest and waist were removed. "And I wouldn't want them to take you from me..." The straps over his legs were removed, but the ones on his ankles and wrists remained. "I like you too much..."

It never progressed beyond touching, as that was the only thing the restraints allowed. And Kenzo knew that trying anything while he wasn't restrained could be dangerous... For both of them.

And even though Kenzo hated mornings, there was one reason that the day shift was Kenzo's chosen time...

The group was walking single file down the hall to the showers, 360 at the front, 377 at the rear. Kenzo was following them all closely, with another orderly leading the column. Once at the shower, they all entered the changing room and stripped. Their clothing was dropped in a large cart and they entered the shower area.

360 walked all the way down to the end of the row of nozzles, while 377 was stuck at the end. The nozzle closest to the watchful eye of the orderly... Kenzo.

For three weeks he had showered under that nozzle. He hated it, knowing Kenzo was standing there, watching him. There was nothing he could do about it though, he couldn't fight off Kenzo when he was strapped down. He began scrubbing himself extra hard under the heated spray.

If only he could get out of the hospital, he knew it would do him more good to talk to Nabiki than to argue with a doctor. And it didn't help to have Kenzo stare at him and touch him. He was so frustrated and ashamed of it all.

"377!" Kenzo's commanding voice snapped him back to reality. He looked back at Kenzo. "Settle down, 377." Kenzo's voice was harsh, but the wink told a different story.

"All I wanted was to get out and talk to you. Apologize until my voice was gone, beg your forgiveness until my knees bled, commit my life to repaying you..." He shook his head, unable to look in her eyes.

"Tate-chan," was all she could say.

"I thought being confined, being subjugated to someone elses will, like I did to you, was enough of a punishment... But it didn't stop there."

Dinner. They were all sitting in the dining hall eating silently. Orderlies stood at the end of each table, their eyes watching them like hawks.

He concentrated on his food. It wasn't very good, but it was edible and that was all that mattered. His day had actually gone smoothly. The doctor hadn't yelled at him and had commented that he seemed to be making progress.

There was a jab in his side. He glared at the man sitting next to him, who was concentrating elsewhere. He turned back to his food and started eating again. Then there was a hand on his thigh, squeezing it. He looked back at the man next to him. This time, the man was smiling at him. He scowled and removed the man's hand. He had lost his appetite and that made him grumpy. If he got hungry later, then that was too bad for him; no snacking. He forced himself to eat.

The hand returned, but this time it was on his inner thigh and it was moving upwards. His annoyance and irritation transformed to anger. He stood up, knocking his food away. He grabbed the man's shirt and threw him to the floor. "Don't touch me!" He dropped on the man and began pounding the man's body.

Before the fourth blow could land, he was grabbed from behind and pulled away. He struggled against the vice-like hold. "Unhand me!" he demanded, but was dragged from the dining hall and thrown to the floor of the hallway.

"377, if you don't shape up this instant, you're getting isolation for a week." It was Yasuo, his night orderly. Yasuo was not nearly as easy-going as Kenzo. Yasuo didn't take any crap ever.

"But he was..."

"377, I warned you. Isolation. Now stand up."

He stood up and let Yasuo take him to his room. Yasuo shoved him in roughly and glared at him. "A week, 377. Remember this the next time you decide to hit someone."

"He was touching me! He was grabbing my..." His voice died as Yasuo came into the room and shut the door. In Yasuo's hand was a thick leather strap.

He was cowering in the corner, his hands over the back of his head. His shirt was pushed up, around his neck, leaving his back exposed. There were several red marks across his kidneys and ribs already.

Yasuo's arm descended, sending the strap across the back of his thigh. It made him want to cry out, it hurt so much. More so than anything he had ever felt before. He wanted to beg Yasuo to stop, but Yasuo didn't care...

"Do you understand, 377? I don't care how Kenzo treats you, or what he lets you get away with. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Get it, 377?"

He nodded, leaving his head covered. "I'll do whatever Yasuo tells me to."

Yasuo put the strap away and looked at his cowering form. "I'm glad to hear it, 377. I don't like to do this, I don't like to give people isolation..."

He nodded, his face still in the corner. "I'll do whatever Yasuo tells me to..."

"Stand up, 377. Your week still stands." Yasuo pulled back the sheet and blanket on the bed.

He stood up, his legs a bit wobbly, and pulled his shirt back down. He laid down on the bed, where Yasuo covered him and strapped him down.

"We'll get you into the swing of things yet, 377. Once you start cooperating, everything will be that much easier." Yasuo's softer side came out for a moment.

He didn't want to bother Yasuo, but he didn't want to be trapped in bed for a week with Kenzo around everyday. "Yasuo?"

"What is it, 377?" Yasuo was almost out of the room.

"Kenzo... He... When I'm in bed..." He was weak, just like the doctor said. He couldn't protect himself, he couldn't control himself, he was a failure.

Yasuo sighed. "I'm sorry, 377." Yasuo shut and locked the door.

Kasumi went back upstairs to see what was taking the two so long. She knocked on the door. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

"Kasumi?" Nabiki asked softly from in the room.

Kasumi opened the door and stepped inside. Nabiki was sitting on her futon, holding Tatewaki. He had his face pressed tightly into her shoulder with his arms around her.

"Could you call in for us, please?" Nabiki looked up, pleading, as well as tears, in her eyes.

"All right. I'll tell Ranma and Akane to go on without you."

"Thank you, big sister," Nabiki replied, but her attention had already returned to Tatewaki.