[shitai mitsuki]

WE'RE LITTLE DIFFERENT FROM THE BEASTS THEMSELVES

It was for the best, Mitsuki thought, that she had not been recommended for this particular iteration of the Chuunin Exams; and yet her pride rankled regardless. Her grandmother had been especially furious, citing this as evidence that Mitsuki was not training hard enough or progressing fast enough, though the blow-up had preceded what was now going on two months of a silent treatment that was as relieving as it was anxiety-inducing. She had, at least, been recommended to spectate the exams, and in the days of the festival leading up to the main event so far she had gorged herself on every variety of smoky, spicy street meat she could find; away from her grandmother’s critical eye, set loose in an environment where the goal was quite simply to enjoy herself, Mitsuki was letting loose for the first time in a very long time. Though, of course, it came with a cost. Given her skillset it only made sense that she would be placed on medic duty at least once or twice; med-nin were stationed at the training grounds round-the-clock. She could provide extra hands and further hone her expertise at the same time, so there was truly no reason to decline. It seemed inevitable, then, that Mitsuki would be recruited in what seemed like the busiest night for the medics thus far. With the exams only a few days away, genin were training like mad, pushing themselves to their limits and beyond in an effort to prepare themselves for what was to come. As the sun made its final descent towards the horizon, basking students and snowfall in a warm golden light, the volume grew to the point that Mitsuki was given her own station—thrilling!—with the understanding that any truly severe cases were to be redirected to the more experienced medics. After sending a young girl with a sprained wrist on her way, Mitsuki poked her head out of her tent in search of her next patient; there’d been a line for at least an hour by this point. A tall, thin, severe-looking man with dark hair was next, and she waved him in with a soft smile. "Good evening,” she said, holding the flap of the tent open for him. She’d fallen into a routine at this point: warmly professional, presenting confidence regardless of what trepidation lurked within. "My name is Shitai Mitsuki. What seems to be the trouble?”

Shizu Amaya -- 407

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shizu Amaya]

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take me where the dark things are

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Amaya found himself in an unexpected scenario, seated on a stark white bed in the medic’s tent. The minor wounds across his torso and limbs, a result of a recent training session, were to be tended by the medical staff. Specifically, the gashes were on his left side, biting into the diaphragm; bicep; outer thigh; and left trapezius. Though the injuries were not severe, Amaya opted for medical attention to ensure a swift and uncomplicated recovery. The wounds had a silver lining – they would likely mislead others into underestimating him during the upcoming exams. They would no longer see him as a threat if paired against him. [break][break]

Propped up in a seated position, Amaya had removed his shirt and pants to allow the nurses a clear view of the injuries. Temporary bandances covered the wounds to stop the bleeding, a precautionary measure until a medic could attend him. While Amaya knew the wounds would heal on their own, he wasn’t willing to take any chances, especially with a nasty infection during the exams. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.[break][break]

A young woman entered the tent, not much younger than Amaya himself. Her white hair, tied back, reached mid-back. Meeting her gaze with a nod, Amaya remained stoic, not returning her smile. He pointed to the bandage on his side, providing a succinct description of his injuries. "A few deep nicks.” His tone was dry and matter-of-fact. Anticipating stitches, Amaya silently hoped that the medic’s skills would allow for a seamless healing with chakra, sparing him the need for conventional sutures.

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[shitai mitsuki]

Had Mitsuki a physiological system that allowed for more involuntary expression of feeling, she might have blushed to find a shirtless, pantsless man in her medical tent; she was not so experienced a medic to find such a sight rote by any means. Though her eyes widened just slightly, she otherwise maintained her composure, her cadaver-slow heartbeat proving more of a boon than a bane in this moment alone. "I can see that,” she said, putting her clipboard to the side. "I’m glad you staunched the bleeding.” Standard hygienic procedures: she washed and dried her hands to the elbow, then donned disposable gloves, and tapped lightly at the man’s elbow to gesture for him to move. "Arms up, please.” Once he obeyed she would be able to remove the bandage, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly as the strong scent of copper wafted from the gash. It was not freely bleeding, but at first glance seemed like a deep enough wound that stitches would be necessary. She was deeply grateful all at once that she was back home in Kaminari no Kuni; she was freely fed, without question, and the weeks that she had been back were peaceful only in that her temptations had been blessedly quiet. "Can you tell me more about what happened?” she asked as she moved on to his bicep and trapezius. "The kind of training you were doing, what weapons and techniques were used? I need to determine your risk of infection.” She hesitated as she moved on to his thigh—but pushed her discomfort out of her mind. This was clinical, not intimate, and she was meant to be a medical professional. This was the same as the others—not freely bleeding, but likely in need of stitches, though the severity of that need was dependent on the young man’s answer. "And your name, if you don’t mind,” Mitsuki said after a moment’s consideration. "I’ll need to take your information for our records.”

Shizu Amaya -- 329

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shizu Amaya]

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take me where the dark things are

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As instructed by the medic who had just entered the room, Amaya cooperatively raised his arms, enabling her to conduct her thorough examination. He felt a mild discomfort as she removed the bandages, the soft fabric grazing his wounded skin. [break][break]



"Simple swordplay,” Amaya responded to her inquiry, his voice betraying no hint of how painful the several cuts were. It had been a straightforward sparring match, with an agreement to solely use their blades. This was crucial practice for Amaya, especially as he prepared for the likelihood of facing challenges in the exams where he might not be able to rely on his genjutsu. With the exams approaching, his mind was entirely focused on refining his skills for what was to come, even as the medic meticulously inspected each injury.
[break][break]


"Shizu, Amaya,” he replied when asked for his name, adding, "From Kirigakure.”[break][break]



Observing the medic’s attention to his wounds, Amaya began to wonder if the healing process might be more complicated than he had initially thought. He was familiar with iryo-nin who could rapidly heal significant injuries, and this level of scrutiny suggested that she would be treating his wounds differently. The possibility of needing stitches crossed his mind, something that could potentially hinder his performance in the exams. However, he chose not to question her methods, especially as she was the one attending to his injuries.
[break][break]


If he was required to endure the exams with stitches, then so be it. He would succeed.

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[shitai mitsuki]

"Swordplay,” Mitsuki echoed thoughtfully. It lined up with what she had observed—none of the wounds looked especially jagged or nasty, rather the clean slices delivered by a razor-sharp blade, resulting in the edges of his wounds appearing relatively clean. He didn’t seem especially dirty, either, so it was unlikely that any foreign substances would have made their way into the wounds before he staunched them, and he didn’t appear to be showing any symptoms of being afflicted with poison. "Thank you, Shizu-san,” she said briskly. She was working very hard to give off the impression that she was more confident and competent than she truly felt; she couldn’t even perform basic medical ninjutsu beyond her own self-healing techniques, and the injuries that another med-nin would have healed in a snap would instead require more mundane treatment at her hands. "Unfortunately, the, um…” Already her confidence was starting to falter. She turned away from Amaya, taking off and throwing away her disposable gloves as she wrote his information down on her clipboard in neat, precise handwriting. "I’m still only a genin,” she said quickly, "and unfortunately I’m not yet able to perform the healing techniques that you might be used to from more experienced iryo-nin. If you’re participating in the exams, what I can do is put you down for an appointment to see one of my seniors in the next couple of days in order to expedite your healing process, and give you stitches to keep the sutures closed and sanitary in the meantime. If that’s agreeable to you?” She half-expected him to reject her outright, and she wouldn’t blame him for doing so; she wouldn’t exactly be pleased herself if she needed medical treatment before a major international event, and was placed solely in the hands of someone as inexperienced as she was.

Shizu Amaya -- 306

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shizu Amaya]

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take me where the dark things are

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Observing the subtle waver in the young medic's demeanor, her hesitation was an indicator of her inexperience. It made sense to him; the exams were an ideal opportunity for genin specializing in medical ninjutsu to hone their skills. He should have expected no less from the medics stationed here. He listened attentively as she explained herself, her words no longer tinged with that hint of uncertainty. [break][break]



"That is fine,” Amaya responded in his usual terse manner. "I will take the appointment.”[break][break]





His understanding of the value of practice and learning through experience was personal. Amaya himself had navigated his path with minimal guidance, often wishing for even a single partner to practice with. Resigned to the situation, he would grit his teeth and endure the sutures she would practice on him. To Amaya, the priority was his readiness for the exam, not the discomfort of the medical procedure. His physical condition could not be compromised; he was acutely aware of how others perceived him. Amaya dwarfed the others with his age. The younger genin might view his age as a sign of failure rather than a man with accumulated experience. This duality weighed on him.[break][break]





"Are you not participating in the exams?” Amaya asked, an attempt to ease the silence. Although he sensed that neither of them was particularly averse to quiet company. Likely, they were both perfectly content to get lost in the sutures.

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[shitai mitsuki]

Amaya’s tone was sharp, terse—his expression unfalteringly stoic and utterly impossible to read. Mitsuki’s lips pressed into a thin line, worry winding itself tight through her limbs. Was he angry with her? Annoyed? Just plain bored? She couldn’t tell, and the uncertainty of where she stood with this stranger put her on edge. Working with live patients, she was starting to realize, was much more difficult than working with dead ones. At least cadavers couldn’t be disappointed in you. She tried to push aside her discomfort; her feelings shouldn’t matter when there was a patient in need in front of her. She took a steadying breath as she prepared her tools, carefully laying out needle, thread, antiseptic, gauze, and bandages on a shiny, pristine steel tray. Wash-dry-gloves, and by then she had steeled herself, shoring up emotional walls in the face of potential criticism. His question, then, took her by surprise—and she wasn’t quite sure if she heard judgment in his tone, or if she was reading too deeply into it. That Mitsuki was not participating was a great source of disappointment for her grandmother; by rights she should have made chuunin before the Plague, and would have if she’d been more proficient and dedicated to her training. It occurred to her, belatedly, that Amaya had presumably chosen the appointment for a reason—he was participating in the exams? It was such a rote thing she’d said, the offer she made to all of her patients with more significant injuries that day… she’d just assumed that the man was a chuunin. Plenty of them were helping out with training sessions, after all. "No, I…” she briefly hesitated, trying to stitch her words together. "I was told I need more field experience before I’m allowed to enter, as I haven’t been a genin for very long.” A half-truth; she’d held the rank for seven years, but only two had been active-duty. Still too long, in her grandmother’s eyes. "We’ll stitch up your thigh first, then your side, then your arm,” she said. "The thigh wound will require you to lay back and spread your legs for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.” A brief pause, to allow him to consent and adjust, or refuse and leave. If he acquiesced, Mitsuki would get to work, cleaning the wound first to prepare it for sutures. "Have you participated before?” she asked, a quiet effort to continue the conversation. "I thought you were a chuunin, at least. You seem very experienced.”

Shizu Amaya -- 424

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shizu Amaya]

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take me where the dark things are

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As Mitsuki meticulously set about her preparations, Amaya maintained a discreet watch from the periphery of his vision. He was careful not to make direct eye contact or to seem overtly observant, yet he couldn't help but notice the concentrated expression on her face, marked by the occasional furrow of concentration—otherwise, she remained as unreadable as himself. [break][break]

When Amaya posed his question, a flicker of hesitation crossed Mitsuki's demeanour, suggesting the inquiry might have touched a nerve. In retrospect, Amaya considered the possibility that his question could have been perceived as a critique of her abilities—a notion he himself would have found disconcerting had their roles been reversed. The opportunity the Chuunin exams set before him felt like a long-awaited chance to mend a festering wound in his pride.[break][break]



Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Mitsuki responded to his question, albeit with a hint of reluctance. It was clear she hadn't expected, or perhaps wished, to delve into this particular subject. Amaya recognized too late the delicacy of the matter, yet the exchange had already unfolded. He merely nodded.
[break][break]


Following Mitsuki's instructions, Amaya laid back, exposing more of his thighs so she could begin her work. As she cleaned the wounds, a slight sting was a minor discomfort compared to the memory of how he had received them. Mitsuki, in turn, posed his question back to him.[break][break]



"Yes,” Amaya replied curtly. "Though I have been a genin for far too long.”[break][break]



Normally, Amaya would have withheld such personal reflections, considering them a source of great shame which followed him as closely as his own shadow. However, sensing a shared sense of burden in Mitsuki, he chose to share a piece of his own story, if only to lessen awkwardness.

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[shitai mitsuki]

Some tension released from her shoulders when no judgment followed her response to his question, at least not verbally—if Amaya held any opinions as to her lack of field experience, he kept them to himself, and his expression was difficult to read. "This will sting,” she murmured softly before beginning to clean the wound on his thigh; she issued similar warnings as she went about her work, verbally dictating what she was doing and where to keep him informed of every touch of her gloved hands against his skin before it came. In the field she would likely have no such luxury, but Mitsuki herself despised being touched without warning, and she conducted herself appropriately. The smell of antiseptic was helping to counteract the appealing smell of blood, the warm rush of veins beneath her hands; she distracted herself further by continuing the conversation, forcing her mind to stay focused on the task at hand. She was well-fed, so her will was strong… but addictions were not so easily shed. "How long do you consider to be too long, if you don’t mind my asking?” she asked. With his thigh stitched up, Mitsuki stepped back to sanitize her tools again. "Side next, if you please. I was on a leave of absence for some time, so I have been a genin for seven years, but my field experience is… minimal, as I said.” Effort recognizing effort: his response was curt, but for the tidbit of information Amaya shared, Mitsuki felt the tiniest bit more comfortable sharing her own.

Shizu Amaya -- 258

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shizu Amaya]

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take me where the dark things are

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As Shitai Mitsuki focused on treating Amaya's wounds, her movements were swift and skilled, despite her limited experience. She seemed practiced. Amaya felt the initial sting of the antiseptic, a sharp discomfort that soon dulled into the background as Mitsuki continued her work. He appreciated her efficiency; the quicker she worked, the sooner the pain would end. [break][break]

"Around the same,” Amaya responded with a vague estimate, reflecting on the years that seemed to blend together. Now in his twenties, he stood out among the younger genin, a fact that had earned him several nicknames, none of which carried any hint of respect. Yet, these external judgments barely scratched the surface of his own shame. There was little others could do that could top his own self-cruelty.[break][break]

"At times it was long stretches of mediocrity, but finally I have a chance to prove myself," Amaya confided, a rare admission that slipped through his typically reserved demeanour. Despite his outward unreadability, there was a fervent desire within him to exceed, to step beyond the shadows he cast on himself and seize the opportunities to demonstrate his true capabilities. That time was now upon him, and he could not afford to fail.

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[shitai mitsuki]

Minute by minute, suture by suture, Mitsuki was starting to rebuild the confidence she’d started with. This, at least, she knew how to do; it was in her blood, and translating the concepts behind chakra-based self-healing into the more mundane treatment methods used on other people was truly no hardship. Amaya’s willingness to humor her by keeping up the conversation put her nerves at ease, allowing her hands to do what they knew instinctively by keeping her mind otherwise occupied. The cut near the diaphragm was somewhat more concerning, but Mitsuki’s hands were steady and her sutures careful as she closed the wound. The subdermal healing required to make sure he encountered no issues in the coming week would come from the more experienced medics at his appointment; for now, her job was just to keep the wound clean, closed, and disinfected. Once the wound in his side was closed, she stepped back again to sanitize her tools before starting in on the cut to his bicep. "If I may ask,” she said, "what… what did you do to push past mediocrity?” It had been weighing on her mind as of late; her ineffectual strikes against Yamamoto Shosuke’s wood clones, how she’d utterly shut down in the face of the slightest hit of conflict in her mission with Tateyama Yakitsukeru, the scoldings she received on a near-daily basis. All of it evidence of her own shortcomings, yet she felt as if she were battering against an impenetrable barrier, unable to cross the chasm to reach what she considered a baseline level of competence.

Shizu Amaya -- 265

LAIKA OF THQ