[there is something in this reaction that is, to him, deeply disturbing right down to the core. once again, it's for reasons that can't entirely be pinpointed. if he tries to reach out and grasp one, it slips through his fingers like morning mist, elusive and fuzzy.
but he doesn't have time to ponder over those strange, flitting thoughts that dart like hummingbirds at the back of his mind, quiet but relentless. for now, he has to focus on Chizuru. on the plus side, it doesn't seem to be anything like a seizure. on the downside, though, it does seem to be some form of panic attack or another traumatic reaction. he's dealt with patients who suffer from such things before, and he knows that they can leave a person just as poor health-wise as any physical ailment.
the way that she apologizes has his heart dropping into his stomach, too, because he can imagine too easily where it must come from. being married into an abusive household that only values a person by their ability to bear children - he can imagine that such a life wouldn't be without its mental scars and traumas. there's little that he can do for it, though.
in the end, he only raises his hand again, gently placing it at the top of her back between her shoulder blades. he gently runs his palm in small, soft circles, trying to give her something to center her attention on in the hopes that it will help her to ground herself, even if it's only a little. he murmurs things softly, nonsensical words and "it's all right, it'll be fine" over and over just to give her a soothing noise to listen to. he can only hope that it does some good. when her breathing slows and she apologizes one final time, he shakes his head.]
You don't need to apologize to me. You don't ever need to apologize to me, all right? [as far as he can see, there's nothing that she has done or could do which would require such a rush of sorries.]
Just focus on your breathing. Count to ten and keep counting to ten until you feel a little more centered. You'll be fine - you're all right. I'm right here, okay? I'm right here.
[somewhat hesitantly, the hand that isn't on her back reaches out for her own.]
no subject
but he doesn't have time to ponder over those strange, flitting thoughts that dart like hummingbirds at the back of his mind, quiet but relentless. for now, he has to focus on Chizuru. on the plus side, it doesn't seem to be anything like a seizure. on the downside, though, it does seem to be some form of panic attack or another traumatic reaction. he's dealt with patients who suffer from such things before, and he knows that they can leave a person just as poor health-wise as any physical ailment.
the way that she apologizes has his heart dropping into his stomach, too, because he can imagine too easily where it must come from. being married into an abusive household that only values a person by their ability to bear children - he can imagine that such a life wouldn't be without its mental scars and traumas. there's little that he can do for it, though.
in the end, he only raises his hand again, gently placing it at the top of her back between her shoulder blades. he gently runs his palm in small, soft circles, trying to give her something to center her attention on in the hopes that it will help her to ground herself, even if it's only a little. he murmurs things softly, nonsensical words and "it's all right, it'll be fine" over and over just to give her a soothing noise to listen to. he can only hope that it does some good. when her breathing slows and she apologizes one final time, he shakes his head.]
You don't need to apologize to me. You don't ever need to apologize to me, all right? [as far as he can see, there's nothing that she has done or could do which would require such a rush of sorries.]
Just focus on your breathing. Count to ten and keep counting to ten until you feel a little more centered. You'll be fine - you're all right. I'm right here, okay? I'm right here.
[somewhat hesitantly, the hand that isn't on her back reaches out for her own.]