4am

Mutou's mind is numb as he gazes emptily into the pan. The pudding has been stirred more than well enough by now, but the swirling pattern of the chocolate against the wooden spoon has put him into a sort of trance. At this hour, as he teeters dangerously on the cliffs of his own sanity, the rhythmic circling of his arm and the scraping of the ladle against the inside of the dish is all that Mutou knows. No longer is he a scientist, a teacher or even a man; now, he has become something much more autonomous.

The echoing of footsteps entering the kitchen only barely punctures the walls of his perception. The nurse stands in the entryway, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of his signature white coat. He eyes his companion with a look of concern. "Mutou? What are you doing?" His words are as unsettled as they are curious. They garner no reaction from the man at the counter, sans the slight movement of his lips.

"Making chocolate pudding."
The lifeless response does nothing to quell the young doctor's nerves.
"It's four o' clock in the morning... why on Earth are you making chocolate pudding?"

A brief silence. The spoon continues it's clockwork rotation, the noise providing an eerie soundtrack to the thick tension hanging in the air. Seconds nearly turn to minutes before the disheveled man speaks again. His tone is cold and hollow as he utters his words with an air of finality.

"I've got this feeling like my veins are filled with nothing but gasoline.
And with a spark, it's gonna be the biggest fire they've ever seen.
Cut me down or let me run. Either way, it's all gonna burn.
The only way that they'll ever learn."