[Deleted]

[attr="class","reasonyk"]

[attr="class","reasonbgyk"]

[attr="class","reasonbigyk"]The best venom
is not injected

[attr="class","reasonsmallyk"]It is spoken from your lips straight to the heart with great malice and no hindrance from sympathy, guilt, or fear

[attr="class","reasonbodyk"]
Another day, another test. But this one would be more fun than the one she'd done last week. She hoped. Yoko was walking about town in a simple green yukata--the fabric of which she'd had matched to her eye color--and tan wedges, holding a container with her drink. It was insulated, to keep her drinks hot or cold. There was chilled tea inside, but it wasn't just tea.

Yoko had, earlier in the morning, finished putting together a new poison. It was comprised of a few herbal items but was mostly synthetic chemicals. There was a small bit of one of her other poisons mixed in. She had wanted to create a new blend of effects: In order, the poison was supposed to cause moderate pain once ingested, then cause mild paralysis in the lungs, then cause blindness. Its effects were supposed to remedy on their own, given time. But, rather than waiting for a test subject in combat, Yoko decided to test it on herself. A trial she performed often.

So often, in fact, that she held resistance and immunity to most of the effects of her own toxins. Still, she did have to pay the price. Testing new formulas was risky, especially when she tried to do other things. Like walk through the heart of town with some of her shopping bags. But she hadn't been able to resist a new dress--now carried on her arm in a small bag--so she'd decided to try multi-tasking.

The "tea" didn't take long to kick in. She'd made it to shop number three--with two bags in tow, now--when the pain kicked in. It flooded her stomach and then spread outward like a wildfire, coursing through her body in harsh, burning waves. It was beautiful. Perfectly fluid. She stopped in the middle of the store to jot notes down in the notepad she'd been keeping in one of her bags.

Shop number four greeted her at the door with the beginning of gradual paralysis. Yoko felt her breathing suffer, and for a while she was only able to take very short, very pained breaths during her window shopping. It was becoming a struggle. Her safety net with this little trial was that she had the ability to expel the poison any moment she desired and heal the damage. But she liked seeing things through.

The next shop she walked into marked an improvement in her breathing, but the third symptom, blindness, never came. Instead, intense nausea overtook her like a tidal wave. She left the storefront, making her way back down the road. She intended to return home. Scrawling notes down about the unintended side effect, she was forced to take a seat on a nearby unoccupied bench, choosing one on a side road away from the street traffic. She felt feverish now, her skin becoming a mix of chilled and hot. Urgh. This was awful.

Where had she screwed up in her calculations? She leaned forward on her knees--half because it eased her nausea, and half because she didn't want anyone to see her feeling so miserable--and went over the dosages in her head. Where was the error? Where?

[attr="class","reasontagyk"]Tokuzō Jiro | HEX:f26393 | No notes~!

[attr="class","credyk"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[Tokuzō Jiro]

Unlike Yoko who was out and about in the village of Iwagakure for pleasure, like most of Jiro’s walks through the village, he was walking back to the village after an important house call for one of the major clans; just like most of the house calls he responded to within the village, primarily due to all the clans’ political pull, were nothing too serious. In fact, the most serious house call recently was for the Kamizuru, handling a case where one of the children had been stung by one of the many insects in their compound. Jiro wasn’t in a huge rush to get back to the hospital, it was one of the slower days, and after looking at the mission ledger it didn’t look like there would be any injuries that the current staff couldn’t handle without him.

When he turned onto the main street that was littered with shops and various restaurant, he was quick to notice of the pink haired woman with a familiar face taking a seat on a nearby bench. Even though he didn’t notice anything suspicious at a distance, as he casually approached her condition became immediately apparent to the medic; while a civilian might not notice the sheer pain and struggle that was occuring on the bench, Jiro was quick to notice the sweat forming around the brow, the pale color that was beginning to overtake the woman’s skin, and the labored breathing that a lamer person might mistake for physical exhaustion. Without saying anything he’d stop just feet away once the realization of who the woman was hit him.

Yoko, although lacking proper restraint when it came to testing and the actual science side of medicine, was an above average medic; and based on what Jiro had learned about the woman while she had studied as a member of the medic corps, she liked to test poisons on herself rather than taking the proper precautions and testing on animals first to make sure the poison would be something her body would handle. In fact, he was surprised that she hadn’t ended up dying on a public bench ages ago, but that was just further evidence of the young woman’s medical expertise despite her many quirks that should have led to her killing herself in a situation like this ages ago.

Past Jiro probably would have just walked past her on the bench, finding little reason to help someone who had a proclivity for doing this to themselves; current Jiro, however, would simply sigh as he looked down on the woman with his usual emotionless expression, "Yoko...” The head medic would give her a chance to look up from the pain, although she could probably recognize Jiro’s distinct monotone voice without taking in his visage, "You really should consider testing on animals first. You won’t always be lucky enough to have a real medic find you while you’re dying on a bench.” Despite the poison looking serious to Jiro, he’d let the poison sit for a little bit and hope that the situation she was in would sink into that brain of hers: something that Jiro had failed to do when they were in the medic corps together.

The head medic half expected the woman to deny his help, but after letting his comment sit a moment he’d finally add on, "If you want my help, I can take care of the poison for you.” While the two medics were definitely closer in skill than Jiro would ever care admit, he had a big advantage on the woman: he wasn’t doubled over due to pain and nausea. She’d probably have trouble even utilizing the Delicate Illness Extraction technique on herself, because as its name implied it required a delicate hand to actually remove all the poison. Regardless, he’d stand just feet away with his hands in his pockets as he looked down on the woman, both literally and figuratively; although he didn’t hate her, Jiro had an immense distaste for how the woman so carelessly conducted her medical experiments and it definitely showed in how he treated the woman.

Not much had changed in their years apart, for either of them.



@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

[attr="class","reasonyk"]

[attr="class","reasonbgyk"]

[attr="class","reasonbigyk"]The best venom
is not injected

[attr="class","reasonsmallyk"]It is spoken from your lips straight to the heart with great malice and no hindrance from sympathy, guilt, or fear

[attr="class","reasonbodyk"]
God, the amalgam of misery was dizzying. A part of Yoko was fairly impressed that she'd managed to craft something so potent--by accident. But the larger part of her was simply suffering and therefore extremely upset with the failure. She'd miscalculated, and she rarely miscalculated. Her entire career was forged on accuracy, precision, and detail. Somewhere in her figures, she'd probably switched a number or two around, or maybe misread the notes she'd scrawled into her notebook at 3 a.m. that morning...

Someone speaking her name cut through the haze of swirling torture that had enveloped her mind and body. She knew that voice... Every medic in the village knew what the Head Medic sounded like. And, not surprisingly, he took the opportunity to scold her methods.

"Not dying on a bench, Jiro" she corrected through gritted teeth, finally turning her head up to peer at him through the hair that had fallen unevenly around her pale face. "Testing. There's a difference." Another wave of nausea hit her and she clamped her arms around herself tighter. She felt so sick it was getting hard to think straight. She could purge the toxin now, all at once, but it would rob her of so much chakra and energy that it wasn't worth it. She could wait it out.

Jiro offered to help her with her failed experiment. Knowing his usual manner toward people, Yoko was somewhat surprised he'd bothered at all. Not that she didn't appreciate it. She forced herself to stand, looking him in the eye proper, now, despite how awful she appeared and felt. "Thanks, but no thanks. I've got it under control. I wouldn't dare hurt animals for the sake of curiosity. Besides, testing non-lethal toxins on yourself is the best way to--"

--know how it affects your enemies, is what she wanted to finish saying, but the nausea crept up her throat like a geyser and forced her to zip over to a nearby waste bin--her speed carrying her in a blink a few yards out by another bench--before she released everything in her stomach into the bin with a pitiable cry and fit of coughing. A wave of chills overcame her. Then shaking. She slumped down onto her knees beside the bin, now feeling slightly less nauseous but all the more horrible for the disastrous blow to her flawless image.

She would turn to Jiro and, after a clear hesitance, would dig her nails into the dirt with a shaking hand. "So... This won't kill me. But if you want to keep yourself busy, then... I guess you could help. A little." The words sunk a knife into her ego. And her face burned. Was that a new symptom?

[attr="class","reasontagyk"]Tokuzō Jiro | HEX:f26393 | No notes~!

[attr="class","credyk"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[Tokuzō Jiro]

Jiro would just stand and look down on the woman as she struggled to talk, the poison was apparently an incredibly potent one; but she would have known that if she’d tested it on an animal. It might not have the exact same effects as it would on a human, but it’d definitely give her some hints about what the concoction could do: she’d just need to know a bit about the animal she was using as a test subject. With how quick she was to retort the Head Medic would let out a deep sigh when she said she was ‘testing’. If her condition wasn’t so serious, he might have laughed at how awry things were going for her.

Although his face didn’t show it, when she managed to stand up and deny his help Jiro was surprised that Yoko managed to garner so much angst in her current condition. It was when the nausea caused her to cut her words off he’d finally take the time to get a word in, "And this is why you run initial tests on animals and then test on humans last, because one miscalculation and you’re doubled over on a bench in the middle of the village holding back vomit.” Rather than walk away and leave her to handle it herself, he’d simply stand a few feet away watching the woman hold her stomach as tightly as possible.

When she finally caved, asking him for help, Jiro would let out a sigh and slowly kneel next to the woman and the bin. Rather than get her to move back to the bench, where it’d be easier for him to utilize the Delicate Illness Extraction technique, the Head medic would simply reach under his hoodie and pluck something off his chest; and almost immediately the wretched feminine voice would emanate from under his clothes, "Oh Jiro, you really should ask for permission before waking a lady from her beauty sleep.” Jiro would just sigh and respond casually before pulling the leech out from under his shirt, "Yeah, yeah, I’ll owe you more blood and all that.”

Without hesitation he’d finally look up to Yoko before talking with that cold expression he usually wore, "It’ll only take her a minute to remove the poison, I just need you to pull your shirt down so I can put her close to your heart.” Honestly he could put the leech anywhere, but getting the leech close to her heart would help him remove the poison from her blood stream more quickly. Jiro hadn’t even considered that she’d be someone that might dislike having a leech put on her body; and if that were the case, helping her would be a lot more of a struggle than he originally anticipated. Of course, in her state she probably wouldn’t be able to put up enough of a struggle.




@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Of course he'd taken the first opportunity to pick at her logic. Sure, testing on animals would have given her a preliminary idea of what the toxin amalgam would have done to a person. But Yoko didn't have it in her heart to test on animals. And testing things upon herself was more fun. It was exciting, in a weird, morally obtuse way. And despite her suffering both now and many times in the past, she had yet to give up the practice. But for all she wanted to bite back at him for lecturing her, she was too busy throwing up and too busy trying to catch her breath to even form words. What two numbers had she crossed so badly in her calculations to have been reduced to such a...such a horrible state? Oh, this would burn at her pride long after the nausea faded...

Yoko was only partially relieved that Jiro agreed to help her. Partially because, despite knowing his help would spare her from having to dangerously exhaust herself to cure her condition, his help meant that now she'd be indebted to him. By her own twisted logic, she had simultaneously knocked herself down about a dozen pegs on the respect ladder and also conceded defeat to a weapon of her own creation. Because she'd fucked up a couple numbers. She couldn't have been more upset with hers--

What on earth was that voice? Jiro was next to her now by the bin but he was talking to someone. Or...something. Yoko's green eyes went wide when he produced a leech--a LEECH--from beneath his clothing. She might have looked more repulsed if she'd been in a fairer state, but instead she only succeeded in looking surprised. WHY was that thing just hanging out in his clothing? Wait. Had it been attach-- No, no. She didn't want to think about it.

Jiro's suggestion for aid hit her and she felt herself tense at the mere request. He wanted her to lower the collar on her dress and put that THING on her chest? What. No. Never. The skepticism in her expression was only partly obscured by illness, but it very clearly shouted "Are you actually crazy?"

"Not a chance," she said weakly, eyeing the creature. "I don't even like humans touching me, what makes you think I'm going to let THAT thing do so?" She inched backward, holding onto the bin for support. Her gaze went back to Jiro. "I know I accepted your offer for help, but...surely there is--" She paused suddenly to cover her mouth with her hand, turning her head away momentarily as she forced the urge to throw up again back down into her stomach. She righted herself and finished, "Surely there's a better way." Just looking at the leech made her feel worse. Did he honestly expect her to let him put that thing to her skin? Even if it DID help, it would leave some kind of mark, wouldn't it? Plus, it was gross. Majorly gross.

lulz ❤ HEX:#f93973 ❤ Tokuzō Jiro

TEMPbyAi ♥

[Tokuzō Jiro]

As soon as the pink haired woman caught sight of the leech it was obvious that she didn’t like the idea, but it was honestly the most logical approach to removing the poison from her system; not only were his leeches specialized in such an extraction, it’d be much less of a hassle for both of them if the leech removed the poison from Yoko’s body. If Jiro did it he’d need her to lay on a bench and further sully her reputation by partially disrobing or ripping her kimono so that he had more direct access to her body. Once she started vocalizing her concern though, he’d sigh as he realized that she would need him to lay it out for her.

Once she stopped he’d finally take the moment to explain his though process, "Look, obviously you don’t want to have this leech on your body, but if I do it then I’m gonna need you to lay down on a bench and remove your top so I have direct access to work, and honestly neither of us wants that.” He’d lift up the leech for emphasis as he added, "This is the most convenient solution. You don’t even need to take off your top.” Obviously she’d probably still have some apprehension about the leech, but with how well known he was for using leeches, this was an obvious possibility when she’d asked him to help her with the poison.

Jiro would simply sit there and stare at her with an incredibly cold expression, she probably wouldn’t be capable of holding him back if he just decided to put the leech on; despite the inhumane practices he’d seen from medical shinobi around the world, he held consent in such high regard due to his sensei. It didn’t matter to him whether she got half naked in the middle of the street or let him use his leeches; but it’d be easier for him to administer either treatment if she was willing to accept it. If he just tried to place a leech on her chest before she’d accepted the treatment, there was a chance that she’d retaliate and hurt the leech or Jiro.

He’d sigh before poking fun at her a little bit, "Although, I’d be humiliated too if I prided myself as a logical medic and decided I didn’t want the logical treatment because I thought it was gross.” It was obvious that he was trying to manipulate her to simply accept the leech treatment, but he was hoping that the point would be true enough that even if she realized it she’d cave. The only issue he’d have is if he laid it on a bit too thick, and she chose to make Jiro remove the poison himself just to be a nuisance. Both were high possibilities; Yoko valued logic and numbers, but she was just as hypocritical as most human beings, and that made her decision unpredictable to someone as socially inept as Jiro.





@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

It wasn't often that Yoko felt so torn by internal debate. But this...this was warranted. Jiro's explanation of exactly why the leech was the better option was enough to bring heat to her face at the mental picture he'd gifted her. Being exposed in such a public space--despite the lack of any large crowds in this area--would sting. She was always so flawless and put together, but then... She already wasn't in a good way, was suffering, and she definitely couldn't uphold her image while ill.

But as much as she didn't want the exposure, she also didn't want a mark. Leeches left marks. She knew, she studied biology, she knew the poison being sucked out by some creature wouldn't be without some type of harsh, adhesive suction to her skin, which would draw blood to the surface, leave her beautiful, porcelain skin with some ugly circular blemish. The fact it would fade with time did not ease her worry. And even if Jiro offered to heal the mark, he'd still end up touching her. She couldn't win.

"Whoever marks me is getting punched," she growled through shaky breath. "But I don't want to hurt an animal. At least if YOU tarnish my skin with some kind of extraction, I won't feel bad for decking you afterward." She was incredibly bitter but the weakness in her voice took away most of the impact in her threat. "I trust you more than that thing, anyway...," she admitted, giving the creature a look of disdain. She didn't care if the leech took offense to her mistrust. How COULD she trust it? He'd just brought it out from beneath his clothing like some miracle cure... Bleh. No. No way. It would give me so many nightmares...

Yoko rose to her feet, looking around. She grasped her thermos and then made for one of the nearby side roads. There was a rock face off the beaten path where fewer people tended to walk by. "There," she pointed, before making her way over with obviously labored steps. She sunk down to her knees by the stone, briefly waving her hand in front of her face to test her vision. She was straining to follow the motion, her peripherals darkening. "Huh. I should be proud that it's so potent against even me," she admitted regretfully. "But if it's not perfect, it's not good enough. Just like..." She trailed off quietly, choosing not finish her thought aloud.

Angry green eyes found Jiro. "Be quick, yes? And don't leave a mark. Or--" She raised her fist up for emphasis. Anyone that knew Yoko's abilities, though, would know that her punches really weren't all that strong or particularly dangerous. Not unless she was using some kind of medical technique. Having someone else heal her really wasn't her first choice, but she also didn't want to potentially knock herself out by overdoing it with her own technique--who knew what kind of creeps would find her unconscious form? She would accept the help, but not happily. Like a cat in the bath.

No notes~! ❤ HEX:#f93973 ❤ Tokuzō Jiro

TEMPbyAi ♥

[Tokuzō Jiro]

As soon as Yoko opened her mouth she made it evident that logic wouldn’t win this battle; she’d already decided that she wasn’t going to let him use the leech as soon as she saw it, regardless of the fact that it’d be much more efficient than having him do it. It was an obvious bias, because she said she trusted him more than the leech but she didn’t trust his recommendation that the leech would be their best option to remove the poison. Just the mental gymnastics involved to avoid having a leech put on her body led Jiro to sigh as he placed the leech back under his hoodie; although the leech remained quiet, he knew that he would hear from her later about this.

Yoko would stand and begin moving to one of the nearby side roads before he could directly address her logic, so he’d simple place his hands into his pockets and follow behind her at a begrudgingly slow pace. While she was trying to get to the side roads without being noticed, Jiro made no such efforts when he followed. When she waved him over to the rock to remove the poison, it’d take him a moment at his pace to get to the rock. It was out of the way, sure, but it wasn’t like people walking down the main street couldn’t see them if they took the time to stop and take a look.

Not only would he be the one removing the poison, but she made it incredibly apparent that if the procedure left a mark she’d hit him. Before she sunk down to her knees, however, he’d continue to poke holes in her logic, "If this was really about trust, then you’d trust my medical recommendation.” He’d pause to let that sink in before continuing in his typical monotone voice, "You just don’t want the leech on your body. You don’t have to do all these mental gymnastics to get out of it, just be honest.” It was almost like scolding a child, because it was becoming increasingly apparent that his logic wasn’t gonna win over her stubbornness.

Rather than fight it any longer, Jiro would casually crouch down beside her and explain as he looked into her angry eyes with an unchanging expression, "Yeah, there won’t be a mark, but since you insist on me doing it I need you to either pull down your top or open your kimono and give me access to the stomach area.” He’d poke the woman’s stomach about three inches above her belly button before continuing, "If I could remove the poison from here it’ll be less painful, but honestly it’s up to you.” The reason he was giving her the choice was primarily because if he started tugging at her kimono to get access, he was pretty sure that she’d probably hit him.

She definitely understood how the Delicate Illness Extraction Jutsu worked, but she was emotional and irrational, so it was easier to hand control of the situation over to her. While she made the decision about where he’d end up removing the poison, he’d make the hand-signs for the common chakra scalpel technique; and once his right hand was coated with the adequate amount of chakra, he’d reach into his medical pouch with his left hand to pull out a bottle filled with a simple saline solution. Now that he was ready to actually remove the poison, he’d simply raise the bottle and his chakra covered hand for emphasis before adding, "This is why I wanted to use the leech.”



@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Yoko had made her pace quick to the stone she'd selected to obscure her seating for the most part--well, as quick as someone could feeling as miserable as she did. But Jiro hadn't. He'd taken his time, which she observed with the harshest stare she could manage. Clearly he was fueled more by obligation than sincerity. Typical of his breed.

Still, he didn't take her words at face value, insisting that if she really had trusted him, she would've followed along with the leech plan. All she could manage was an angry "Tch," before clutching at her sides. If only she'd just stayed home. She could've flushed out her entire system in one go. And while she wouldn't have gotten as much done with her earlier errands, she wouldn't have had to ask someone else for help... Not that she'd "asked," per say. She'd accepted the offer. And she was already regretting it.

Jiro got down to her level and assured there'd be no mark. Good. Great. Awesome. Yoko's mind focused on that detail for a bit too long, to the point that she only partially heard what came after. Something about choosing which spot to remove her lovely toxin from. Did it really matter? She twitched slightly when he poked her. "I don't care about pain," she growled, and reached up to slide her fingers beneath the collar of her dress. It was a simple getup--a light pink and white dress with a traditional kimono-styled collar, skirt, and sleeves, but with none of the heavier fabrics or layers. She'd matched it perfectly with her sandals, and with how much she liked it, she wasn't going to risk damaging it for some street procedure.

The process of pulling the garment down to her waist might have embarrassed her more than it did if it wasn't for the dizziness, nausea, and partial blindness that had hijacked her focus. All she could think about was ending the misery and preserving her looks. She glanced with narrowed eyes between the bottle that Jiro had produced and his other hand. He was bringing up the leech again? Could he not just let the topic die already? There would be no leech involved. Not now. Not ever.

"Stop trying to-- to--" She leaned slightly left, clenching her jaw and forcing her stomach to keep down what it was barely containing. Sitting beside a rock, subdued by her own weapon, and now reduced to accepting help from a man she didn't even particularly like, with the added dread of her beautiful, lace-adorned self exposed in the process...it all culminated in a peak of extreme distress, to the point the woman wanted to cry. And, worst of all, she didn't understand WHY she wanted to cry.

"Just hurry up," she hissed, keeping her watery eyes defiant and staring him down with the intensity of a hundred suns. With her whole upper body exposed--save for the custom-tailored pink lacy number, of course--he could choose whichever route was best or quickest. By her heart, or above her stomach, or her neck, or wherever wouldn't leave a mark. Because, more than her modesty, the lack of another blemish was truly the most important thing. She couldn't tarnish her body more than it already was. There were acceptable imperfections... But an injurious poison remedy? Ha! Never. And the less time she spent walking the streets looking and feeling horrible, the better. She had a reputation to uphold, and she wasn't going to land more modeling gigs strolling around like some wrecked zombie.

No notes~! ❤ HEX:#f93973 ❤ Tokuzō Jiro

TEMPbyAi ♥

[Tokuzō Jiro]

Luckily for Yoko, Jiro was pretty detached from normal human attraction, so his stare would remain blank as the woman pulled her garment down to give him better access to her upper body. Without much fanfare he’d make a small incision approximately three inches above her abdomen as soon as she told him to hurry up he’d reply rather casually, "Sure, Alright.” Although she didn’t care where he made the incision, it was best to make it near the body part most affected by the poison, and in her case it seemed to be her stomach that was being most adversely affected. His incision and plan of extraction for this particular operation was by the book, aside from the lack of restraints to hold the woman down.

The Delicate Illness Extraction technique was incredibly painful, hopefully the woman would have an adequate pain tolerance as a high ranking shinobi not to move around too much. Either way, he’d empty the bottle of saline solution into his chakra covered hand, before putting the empty bottle back into his medical pouch. Using chakra to keep the solution in a large globule in his hand, he’d begin to use the technique to skillfully weave the solution into Yoko’s body. His skill would definitely reduce the pain a bit from if the technique were performed by a Genin or Chuunin, but it’d still be pretty excruciating once he got started. Even so, he’d begin using the saline solution to pull the poison out of her body while simultaneously healing the damage that’d been caused to her stomach and the surrounding tissue.

As he moved his hands away from her body, the fragments of poison would drop to the ground; and once the solution was absent of poison, he’d weave it back into her body to gather more of the poison and heal even more of her body. He probably wouldn’t need to remove all the poison to make the effects bearable, but rather than operate in silence he’d let out a sigh before trying to make small talk to take her mind off of the unavoidable pain, "So, do you have any potential male prospects? You’re close to your reproductive prime and it’s only natural to want to pass on your genes before menopause.” Of course, Jiro had never been that great at making small talk despite the training his master gave him on how to talk to people.

"It’s even common for people your age to be married, granted that type of social construct isn’t for everyone.” Of course, Jiro didn’t particularly care about whether she had a guy she was interested in, or whether she was married; it was just a common topic to talk about with women in their late twenties and thirties: babies and marriage. Granted the fact that she was a shinobi could very well mean that she had no interest in that sort of thing, just like Jiro, but honestly there was no way to know how Yoko’s mind worked or whether she’d be bothered enough by the conversation to help take her mind off the pain.

Regardless, he’d simply keep working on removing the poison; with two passes he’d probably removed over half the poison, so it was likely that her nausea was subsiding enough that she wouldn’t be holding back the urge to throw up every couple of seconds. With one or two more passes, only small fragments of the poison would be left, which would cause a little discomfort but it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as her current situation. Given her shinobi training, it’d be pretty easy to hide the remaining nausea with a brave face.




@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Yoko was somewhat relieved that Jiro wasn't the type to stare. She'd been plenty exposed in front of people before for modeling, or on missions in one dire situation or another. But he didn't comment, his eyes didn't wander. He got right to work. She appreciated it. But not enough to voice it. Plus, it was taking most of her focus to keep from throwing up again. Ew. Just ew.

Unlike the toxins Yoko was accustomed to feeling--which brought their own rainbow of pain types (everything from burning, to shooting, to acidic, to stinging, to stabbing, the list went on)--the illness extraction technique that Jiro chose to utilize was its own unique brand. The way the saline moved through her system felt like an interloping viper. It hurt. A lot. And it was a pain that she wasn't used to feeling. She felt her nausea get worse but merely bit her lip and dug her nails into the dirt. She was trembling, though it wasn't clear if that was from the poison or from the pain.

Things were bearable. Until Jiro opened his mouth again and what came out was nothing short of utter stupidity. Male prospects? Close to her prime? Menopause? Marriage? The pinkette's eyes went from staring at the ground to boring directly into the head medic with the fury of a hundred suns. "Are you suicidal?" she snarled at him, her fingertips sinking deeper into the earth. Two of her fake nails snapped off her fingers, but she appeared not to notice.

"How dare you insinuate I'm approaching ANY slope in my beauty! And marriage? Ha. It does not appeal to me. Whether or not I have prospects is also none of your fucking business." Her voice was angry mixed with a healthy dose of agony. It was hard for her to keep any front up when she was hurting, but the fire in her chest was on par with the repetitions of the saline snaking through her body. At the least, she had noted he spun the technique well. An expert, and surely well entitled to his position as the head medic. But on a personal level? His street-side manner was atrocious.

"Do you speak to all of your patients this way? God..." She rolled her eyes and her vice grip upon the grains of dirt on either side of her began to wane. She was beginning to feel better. Her vision, especially, had lost its previous flurry of stars. Her body felt much less strained than before. She wondered if the poor conversation was preferrable to having tried making it back home in the state she'd been in, and decided that it was nothing but a toll. An exchange for the help, her price to pay for relying on someone else instead of taking more care with her numbers.

"At least you're adept with your hands, if not your mouth," she mumbled, settling her attention on the poison he'd removed that now stained the ground near them. That mix had been so chaotic, and while it'd been a failed ratio, it seemed a waste to have it tossed back to the earth. Incentive to triple check her math the next time...

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[Tokuzō Jiro]

It definitely wouldn’t be necessary to remove all the poison from her system, with a few passes he could probably clear about 90% of the poison which would at least leave her with mild symptoms. Rather than stopping as two to three passes, Jiro would opt for six to seven passes, which would remove virtually all of the poison, perhaps 98-99% of the substance. This would allow Yoko to walk away virtually asymptomatic. She’d probably prefer fewer passes of the saline to avoid the pain, but when Jiro wasn’t under any pressure he preferred to take things slow and by the book, which was honestly what made him such a good medic. Refusing to take half measures when given the opportunity gave him much more practice for the high pressure situations.

Although most medics would need to keep their eyes glued to what they were doing, Jiro’s eyes would slowly lift to meet the glare of Yoko when she responded; with how much he’d done this procedure in his more formative years as a medic, he could probably perform the delicate illness extraction with his eyes closed. While she talked and he looked at her with a deadpan stare, he’d finish up a few more passes with the saline solution to remove all but the smallest amounts of poison from her system. She was genuinely angry, but it had all worked out in the end with Yoko being too invested in scolding Jiro to think about the pain of the Delicate Illness Extraction.

When she asked if he spoke to all his patients like that, he’d hold one hand over the wound to heal it and pull the other hand away from her body to let the saline solution drop into the nearby dirt, "Yeah, it usually helps distract them from pain.” He’d pause for a moment to let it sink in that he was simply trying to distract her, "Do I really look like a person that cares about that kind of stuff?” Granted he wasn't trying to make her angry and her reaction was more accidental, but strong emotions definitely served as a better distraction than simple small talk. Now that almost all the poison was out of her system, all there was left to do was actually heal the incision.

Jiro would lift up his hand to take a look at the wound underneath, and then place pressure as he healed to best avoid any visible scarring from the small wound. If they were in the heat of battle he’d simply heal it as quickly as possible; but since she’d requested that he leave no scars on her pretty little body, he was taking his time to oblige the request because failure to do so would tarnish his reputation as the best medic in Iwagakure. With Yoko’s training it’d probably even be obvious that he was healing her incision more slowly than the Mystical Palm Technique was fully capable of.

Now that he was healing the wound on her stomach, he’d look back up to Yoko and add, "Plus, talking is less awkward for most people than sitting in silence, even if the topic is in poor taste.” Jiro had been trained not to let the patient’s mind wander, and if they were conscious he was supposed to do his best to engage them; a wandering mind was dangerous, and would allow the patient to feel the full brunt of any pain that might be associated with the operation. Although his questions and small talk often triggered an unintended emotion, it usually did work when it came to keeping his patient’s mind off the pain.


@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Yoko didn't believe for one second that Jiro had casually insulted her just to "distract" her. No way. There were so many better ways to put someone's mind on something else. He could've asked about her job. Or about recent news within the village. Or talked about some new technique he was working on. Why sink a knife straight into someone's confidence like that?

Effective, maybe. But necessary? Hell to the no. She surmised that he was just not good with people. And he probably didn't want to be. You didn't need to be everyone's favorite socialite to be a medic. But that didn't mean you had to default to being a jerk, either.

And then the "do I look like I care?" question. Rhetorical, but Yoko answered anyway, holding her glare. "No. You don't." He really didn't. His lack of expression--and distinct lack of apology--for upsetting her made that clear as day. Honestly. Yoko, at least, had the decency to pretend to be sweet and charming when her job required it. Jiro had skipped Manners 101 and it showed.

However, Yoko couldn't hold onto her anger forever. The technique had worked and with the woman feeling almost back to normal, she felt the fury slithering out of her system in a similar way to what the saline had done. It was like a breath of fresh air to be relieved of the pain and agony that her creation had caused--and the pain of the technique itself. She noted that Jiro was taking his sweet time with healing the cut he'd used for the extraction, and it was really the only moment thus far that she felt some level of respect for him outside of his strict skill as a medic. He might have been totally rude but he'd listened to her earlier when she said she didn't want any lasting marks.

Jiro commented on dodging silence to be less awkward, and while Yoko was among the few who preferred silence a lot of the time, she couldn't disagree with his logic. "Whatever," she grumbled out, her voice less angry but just as stubborn. It was the closest she was going to get to actually relenting and admitting he made some sense.

"I appreciate your help, anyway," she said, watching him finish the remainder of the technique. "I do not typically make such severe errors in my calculations. It was better I ran into you here rather than arriving unconscious at the hospital, I guess." Definitely better. Plus there would be no bill... But then, she still had to pay him, right? Yoko didn't do her best work for free, either. Repaying him for his time was only fair.

"I...owe you one," she said, nearly sounding pained at the admittance. She would pull the top of her dress back up over her shoulders again when she was able, after inspecting the extraction site to be sure there was no visible mark. "Can I repay you somehow?" Maybe he wouldn't want anything. But it was polite to ask. And Yoko was all about a polished image, even if her heart wasn't in it. She had to "talk the talk" as they said. She also didn't want to feel indebted to someone. It would just loom over her every time she saw him.

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[Tokuzō Jiro]

Just the look on Yoko’s face made it clear that there was a massive miscommunication between the two of them, but rather than immediately butt in and try to clarify he’d focus on finishing the healing process. While she was talking and thanking him for his help, he’d simply look down at where the wound once was and let his eyes naturally return to the woman’s eyes. If he were a normal man he probably would have taken a moment to get one last glimpse of her body before the pulled all her clothes back up to cover her body; and while thoughts of what normal men would do in this situation lingered in the back of his head, he just wasn’t normal when it came to attraction.

Once she was finally done talking he’d cut off his own thoughts, "I just wanted to clarify.” He’d let a sigh out before continuing, "What I meant was that just talking in general helps distract patients and what I didn’t care about was the social small talk. I wasn’t trying to make you angry though, even if it helped.” Without much care Jiro would wipe what little blood was left on his hand onto his pants; it wasn’t the most sanitary place for him to wipe it off, but it was better than wiping it off on the ground or Yoko’s expensive looking dress.

Once the blood was off his hand he’d clip his medical pouch closed for now and pause for a moment before mentioning what he had in mind for repayment, "Well, if you’re dead set on repaying me, it’d be useful to have some eggs from a strong female specimen, although I’d prefer if you’d carry the baby to term.” The latter request was probably too much of a time commitment for the young woman to make, 9 months to deliver a baby would undoubtedly cut into the remaining reproductive time she had.

Despite the woman’s previous outburst, Jiro couldn’t see any issues with his request for repayment, especially considering the fact that she wouldn’t actually utilize all of her eggs within her lifetime. Sure, he could just make exact replicas of himself, but it was definitely better for genetic diversity to mix his genes with someone else’s. She would probably read too much into it and get angry; but it wasn’t like her refusing to donate her eggs and genes truly hurt him, it just put him back where he was before he helped her. Who knew though, it was entirely possible that she might appreciate the actual medical research that he was going to be working on.

If anything, she was likely to be curious why he needed babies.



@tsukimiyoko

[Deleted]

a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Oh, he wasn't trying to make her angry? "Right," she mumbled skeptically. She didn't believe that for a second. It was one thing to be simply socially inept, a whole other thing entirely to go for vital points on the topics someone obviously took the most pride in. For Yoko, that was beauty. He could've chosen any other topic, but he'd gone for the proverbial jugular, immediately defaulting to commenting on a woman's looks and reproductive capability. If those things were casual conversation to him, she wondered what he considered private. If anything.

With her dress once more adjusted and in place and her pain and other symptoms now gone, Yoko took in a deep breath, enjoying the comfort of no longer seeing stars or being nauseous or her body freaking out in general. She touched at her face, then her hair, doing reflexive checks on her appearance as she waited to hear what the head medic would come up with for how he wanted to be compensated for his time and effort. If it was money, she had enough of that. Maybe he'd ask her to run some errand for him with how busy he was. The pinkette didn't mind that either. As long as it wasn't chopping off an arm for some experiment...

"...it’d be useful to have some eggs from a strong female specimen, although I’d prefer if you’d carry the baby to term."

There was a surreal moment where she thought for certain that she'd heard him wrong. Imagined it. Hallucinated. But...no. She stared, initially stunned by the audacity of the request, and her brain's many gears began rotating in overdrive trying to discern what to be the most upset about: the fact he'd ask for something as intimate as eggs or the fact he thought she'd ever consider carrying a child solely for science. A part of her wanted to be flattered that he'd deemed her a "strong female specimen," as she did enjoy being viewed as capable and lethal. But the rest of his response had lit a freezing hot surge within her that ultimately registered on her face as her looking totally and absolutely lost for words. There was confusion, a crease in her brow from anger, the opening and closing of her mouth as she tried to form words but couldn't get them out.

The anger filled her chest first, but it cooled as she reminded herself that he had just done her a huge favor in healing her rather than leaving her to her own suffering. And she had asked the question, she couldn't be upset that he'd provided an answer. As the anger settled--her green eyes finally falling away from his to pierce the dirt--a new wave of questions popped up in her head. Why did he need eggs? Why did he need a child? Who would be the contributor of male DNA? Him? And would she receive it artificially or-- No, no, she didn't want to think about it.

Finally, words came--hesitant and quiet and laced with uncertainty. "I don't understand..."

Fabulous. She gripped at the pooled fabric of her dress in her lap, trying hard to keep herself from actually sinking her fist into his face--because that felt like the best thing to do. But Yoko cherished her proper image, and she now had more confusion, in fact, than outright fury. Of course, the anger was going to linger, and if he continued rolling absurd drivel off his tongue, she wasn't sure she'd stay her hand a second time.

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