Kani's life, these days, tends to follow what she understands to be the path of least resistance.

Right now, that means she's going to stay in bed for another hour or two (It doesn't matter, none of this matters), curled up, hugging her knees. She doesn't have any reason to get up, after all.

(Eventually, though, her body provides her with a few.)

When she gets back from the bathroom, she eats two of the protein bars from the box her desk, letting the wrapper join its sisters on the floor. They don't really taste like anything. (She doesn't care. Food's food. She has to eat something - her fathers notice, if she doesn't, and they get worried, and if she keeps not eating, she'd end up in a hospital, and she never wants to be in a hospital ever again. So she eats.)

She boots up her laptop.

She has homework. (If she skips it, the teachers get concerned, they call her fathers, they get worried, she has to go to more therapy sessions, (and - Thrana wouldn't have wanted-) It's easier to just do the homework. A bad grade isn't the end of the world.)

It's a precal worksheet. Periodic functions.

She remembers Mags telling her about these, two years ago, so excited about what she was learning and so bad at noticing when Kani was too stupid to keep up with her. Sine and cosine, waves repeating forever, an animation Mags had made of a point spinning around a circle with the graphs in the background and the labeled functions. 

Almost everything Mags had said that afternoon had gone in one ear and out the other, but Kani had been hypnotized by that circle, and now it returns to her mind in her hour of need. For once, her math homework is straightforward, and she's finished well before sunset. 

(She thinks about messaging Mags about it, but - there are so many unread messages she'd need to read, and respond to, first. Just thinking about it is exhausting. It's easier not to.)

She decides to go for a hike down to the river. (Dad tends to get worried when she doesn't leave the house, and since she's made it clear that she's only going to do school remotely, she really only goes out for hikes, or when she's being forced to go to some kind of appointment. And if he gets worried enough, he won't be able to resist being the one who comes into her room to check on her when she's asleep, and unlike Papa he's bad at being quiet about it. It's easier if she goes on hikes, once in a while.)

And... she likes it by the river. Not enough to actively look forward to it, but - it's nice.

She gets dressed for an early fall hike and slips out of her room. Neither father will be home for a few hours, which suits her just fine.

She grabs her bag from the hallway banister; it's already packed. (Dad repacks it every time she uses it, which is his way of trying to encourage her to go out whenever she wants, as long as she's safe. If she goes long enough without hiking, she'll find it in her room instead of out here.)

 She doesn't bother taking inventory - she knows what's inside. Water bottle and a flashlight in the side pockets, trail mix, some fruit gummies, a lightweight layered coat, a spare phone battery, and at the bottom, the same kind of travel first-aid kit that the 3 of them have used all her life. (Papa always did his best to show her how to use it, when he had a chance, and she'd been an eager student. (Of course, the time that knowledge might have helped her the most, she'd been too late, too late, too late))

She shoulders the bag and winces at the sound of the ice rattling against the metallic edges of the water bottle. (She knows from experience that they melt after a few days even with the bottle closed, which means Dad checks and keeps it filled every time, because he knows she does a much better job staying hydrated when the water is cold. Because he still loves her, even if she's just a hollowed out shell of the daughter he raised, and this is one of the few ways he feels like he can express that love.)

She feels a dull pain in her chest, like there's an empty hole inside of her. (There is an empty hole inside of her.) 

She pulls on her headphones, selects her hiking playlist, grabs a mask (she knows she doesn't need it anymore, she knows, she knows), and heads out the door.

 The sun is starting to set as she leaves, which means it'll be dark on the way back, but she'll be fine. She has her flashlight, water, plenty of snacks, and her trusty first aid kit. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a hard hike, and it's one she's done dozens of times.

The path to the river is a few miles, and goes over some rocky terrain. She stumbles, once or twice, but it's fine. The river is waiting.

The river is... nice. She goes to sit down on her favorite rock, and slides her backpack down onto it next to her. She listens to the water running (...is it louder than usual?) for a while, long enough that she loses track of time. 

It's spring. The melting ice caps upriver have the banks a little higher than usual, and a little faster, too.

Kani's favorite rock is dark with moisture, when she sits down, and as she dangles her feet off the side like she always does, they get soaked. The river's rapid current sends water into the air around her in little bursts.

She stays for about an hour, as she'd planned, and then decides to turn back. She puts on her backpack, and gets out her flashlight.

She's soaked. It's cold. And her flashlight, having taken more water from the river than was good for it... doesn't turn on when she presses the button.

She presses the on/off switch a couple times, vaguely confused.

She feels like... something isn't quite right. It's hard to place, though. (It's not the usual feeling, the one that nothing will ever be okay again. She knows.)

She'll be fine. She has her flashlight, water, plenty of snacks, and her trusty first-aid kit. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a hard hike, and it's one she's done dozens of times.

She pauses to drink a long gulp of the deliciously ice-cold water, eats a few handfuls of trail mix, and then repacks her bag.

She gets back on the trail, trusty flashlight in hand to light the way.

The sun has long since set. The pale light of the moon (waxing gibbous) does little to illuminate the ground in front of Kani, but it's better than a dead flashlight. And her waterlogged shoes aren't doing her any favors, either, though she moves with the same confidence she had on the way here. 

The first three times she bumps into something and stumbles in the dark, she catches herself. The fourth time, she's not so lucky.

She falls, hard, her left knee bashing into a rock and splitting open.

She cries out in shock and pain. It hurts, sending jolts through her system. She hears the tinkling of breaking glass. Augh! What... happened...

Kani pulls herself to her feet. (...why was she on the ground?) It doesn't matter. She'll be fine. She has her flashlight, water, plenty of snacks, and her trusty first-aid kit. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a hard hike, and it's one she's done dozens of times.

A bleeding kneecap isn't something that will prevent anyone from walking, of course, but it is the kind of thing that one wants to be careful with.

Kani's moving a lot slower, now, both because her hurt leg doesn't want to swing as far and because she's struggling to keep her balance. She stumbles often, but manages to stay upright as she makes her way up the slope that marks the midpoint between the shoreline and home. (She's shivering. Her phone buzzes, now and then. She doesn't seem to notice.)

Kani is - confused? Something seems wrong. She's not sure what, exactly. Something... is more difficult than usual? Hurts more than usual? Both, maybe? Ugh.

She can figure it out later, maybe.  She'll be fine. She has her flashlight, water, plenty of snacks, and her trusty first-aid kit. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a hard hike, and it's one she's done dozens of times. She keeps going.

Despite the pain and the cold, she can keep going like this for a while. She's young, and healthy of body, if not of mind. 

She even manages to fall gently, the first time her knee gives out on her, and gets back up like nothing happened.

The second time, however, she tumbles forward down the rocky slope. Her headphones and mask fly off her face, and she lands on her right arm with a sickening crunch.

 - pain - what - pain - happened?

she screams, from the confusion and fear as much as from the pain itself.

They were already coming down the path to find her, since "Kani is out hiking, after dark, not responding to messages or calls" is in fact the kind of thing they worry about.  

When the screaming starts, they're in earshot, and they come running. 

They arrive on the scene; their daughter is face down on the trail, bruised and bleeding. 

They rush to her side. They've done their share of first aid together, on the job; they have a routine. (Kani usually kind of hates it, when she notices they're doing that, but she's too - confused, or in shock, or something to do more than sob in distress.)

They get her wounds bandaged and cleaned, build a makeshift splint for the arm they strongly suspect is broken, and bring her home via a fireman's carry. They give up on trying to get her to drop her broken flashlight (her fingers gripping it are bone-white, but she won't let go) or get an explanation out of her (She seems more confused than they are, really, she was having a normal hike?) for now - that can wait.

Safely home, they do a second pass of first aid, including painkillers, cleaning and redressing all her wounds, and helping her get the mud off her without getting into what would be an extremely painful shower with all these cuts and bruises. They ice her broken arm to try and keep the swelling down.

Then they start to argue.

"Dear, I know she hates hospitals, but her arm is broken. We are not qualified to treat a broken arm! You know this!"

     "Yes, but - look at her, she's terrified, if we take her to the hospital like this it could be horrible for her, and you know how fragile she is right now-"

"Her arm is broken. We can't just -"

     "We could at least wait a bit, the bone hasn't punctured skin, there aren't any signs of internal bleeding. Give her time to think about it, come to terms with it."

"...Okay. We can wait an hour. But I'm staying right here the whole time, and if she starts to get worse, we're taking her straight there."

     "Alright. I'll call ahead and make all 3 of us some soup."

"Okay. I'll explain what's going on as best I can."

Kani is confused and in pain and scared!! She was - hiking back from the river, and everything was fine, and then - it wasn't fine? Isn't fine? She's in pain and she doesn't understand why and it's kind of overwhelming, it's a lot of pain. Her fathers are here and taking care of her and she appreciates that but it's - confusing.

...Papa trying to talk to her. She tries to focus.

     "Kankan, we need to take you to the hospital. I'm sorry, I know you hate it there, but [??¿¿] and we can't treat that here."

She makes a kind of pathetic confused noise, and he pauses.

     "-what part is confusing, honey?"

"Um - why do I need to go the hospital?" She's shaking, and wincing in pain.

Papa stares at her, fear creeping into his eyes.

      "Kankan, you [??¿¿]. Do you - can you not tell that [??¿¿]?"

She makes a frightened whimper.

"Oh, honey..." 

He doesn't understand what's going on, and he really doesn't like that. He checks her temperature with his hand (still fine), her pulse and demeanor for signs of shock (none, which is a relief but a bit confusing), and does another careful inspection of her head. Nothing. It's possible to sustain a head injury with no external sign of damage, though...

"When you fell, did you hit your head?"

       She gives him that same confused, frightened stare that she did when he asked about her broken arm, and he does not like that at all.

"Kankan. This is really important - I need you to focus, okay? Can you tell me if your head hurts?"

        Her face screws up in the way he recognizes as her concentrating even though it's hard. "...it doesn't", she says softly after a while.

He sighs in relief. "What about your arm? Does your arm hurt?"

        That same look of concentration, but for much less time. "Yes," she whispers. "It hurts really really badly."

Papa sighs in relief.

      "We're going to take you to the hospital for your arm. [??¿¿], and they can fix that."

What - ugh. She hates the hospital, hates all the memories it brings back, but - her arm really really really hurts, and she's so confused and scared.

She slumps in defeat, and nods slightly, trying not to cry.