old world blues. ( private flashback )

[Apple]

I watched so carefully as he regained his consciousness, the almost confused looking expression on his face quite entertaining. Of course – given that the situation had been controlled and the fact that it wasn’t a serious setting any more, I allowed myself the selfish gift of a smirk in response to his varying expression. Whilst doing this, I dusted off my knees from whatever grime had collected on them from doing my work. I was sure that I had felt one or two small shards stick in to the soft skin but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t take care of later on. From the damage that was still left on his back, I’d ask them to find someone else to take care of it. Perhaps it was harsh; but I doubted that I’d be able to take care of the rest. I’d cleared the majority of the damage and all that was surely left now was the glass problem, if any had penetrated his clothing and embedded itself in his back. Exhaling, I’d then keep watching him. He seemed almost.. surprised at my response, although really, I had too. It was almost as if I’d seen this place through rose-tinted glasses in the past, the dirt and the scummy streets outshined by the lights and the smiles and the haze of alcohol, but sitting here perhaps too sober, I could saw the place in its finer details, for the dump that it was. This wasn’t a life. I knew that I could do so much better than this. But perhaps it was the exact fear of change that had prevented me from moving myself from my muddied roots to this place. What would Momochi really think if he saw me now, sitting in the wasteland of Kaminari no kuni with filth up to my knees and blood on my hands? I couldn’t ignore it – but at the same time, I couldn’t forget. I had to drive forwards – become better than this. It was the only way I’d be able to find Ue, after all. If I succumbed to this war whilst he survived, if I died here, a nameless blonde in the sea of people here, he wouldn’t have known better if I was alive or not. I couldn't live with knowing that.

"No... don't be sorry."

"You're a good person, Blanche. You just... forget it, sometimes."

"....."



Not that it was awkward, but I didn't know how to reply.

"Are you really... okay?"




”..You were in pretty bad shape.”

It wasn’t that I avoided the question, but instead, I simply gave a suitable answer to fit the criteria that he was looking for – although it was true. His grave injuries had taken quite a while to heal up and that in itself came at a heavy price. Whilst I was perhaps talented than some, it still took a toll on my body. From the techniques I’d previously used and the careful work I’d done to preserve his life in the harsh circumstances that he had been thrown in to, I wasn’t ready to collapse or faint, no. I simply felt.. woozy. But it was better than collapsing. Pressing my fists in to my knees, I’d flash him a reassuring smile to follow up with my claim. Of course; being so attuned to chakra from my Akadou roots, I did feel ill to even have to sink to this low a chakra pool when there was.. so much left in this entire city that I could siphon from. I just needed a bit more – just a little bit more so that I could feel.. complete again without the constant nagging pain which seeped from each little part of my body. Shaking my head, I’d then gaze off at the brickwork in the alleyway. Perhaps for one, panic-stricken moment, I’d considered leeching chakra from the vulnerable man before me to revitalize myself. He was so close - his hand softly touching my own but it was enough, even more than enough for me to take advantage of. My hand quaked so softly. ..It’s not as if the other two will know And – I could – I could tear away the little amount of it that he had left, and run. No. Exhaling, I’d close my eyes, remove my hand from his grasp, and allow myself to focus and try to regain my composure. Professional, neat and orderly.

"..Hey."

I paused before continuing my words, as if trying to capture each little bit of his attention before I finished. As I spoke, I avoided his eyes, instead choosing to focus on his ex head injury.

"Thanks, you know, for that.
I.. guess I needed some sense beaten in to me."

I again stopped, aware of his less current less than sharp mid.
Blue met green in such a fiercely determined gaze.

"I've decided, that.."

"..I'm leaving, tomorrow."

[/b][/u][/color]

Shousen no Jutsu (Mystical Hand Technique)
Rank: D, C, B, A, S.
Type: Supplementary.
Range: -
Handseals: -
Chakra: D - Low, C - Mid, B - x2 Mid, A - High, S - x2 High. x1 high with medic mastery.
Special: Heals and counters damage equal to highest rank known. If healing is stronger than the damage taken, remaining 'Shousen' chakra will course through the target's body until more damage is suffered, essentially helping the medic prevent future injury. Cannot be used on a target with perfect health. Aside from s-rank healing, which occurs instantly, all others require one full post to heal.
Description: Shousen Jutsu is one of the most fundamental yet vital Medical Ninjutsu techniques utilized by medical ninja. This technique allows the ninja to heal wounds by focusing their own chakra to their hands, creating a special chakra designed to speed up the body's natural healing process exponentially. The chakra is represented by a faint glow around each of the user's hands, a perfect circle formed around the appendage, with the glow itself letting off a faint, blue hue. The higher the Medic's skill, the stronger the healing process will be. As such, master medics can use their techniques to perform surgeries that otherwise would not be possible.
Domain: Iryou Ninjutsu.
[/ul][/size][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[Estilo]

A Garden In The Rain

---

Beads of water started dripping from above once more, the cloud-laden sky lightening just enough to free Kami no Shima from its once terrifying presence. And as the raindrops pelted the surface of my face, my reassuring grasp leaving her own, I gazed up directly at the heavens above. There was this moment, of complete and utter tranquility, where all I could ever imagine doing was to be here. Laying down, looking at the sky. My body, caught between bouts of pain but soaked in a complete calm, was unwilling to rise just yet. It was only when that sweet melody started playing so softly in the back of my mind, that I realized and remembered where my place was. By their side. After coming this close to death, all I wanted to do was hug them. There was nothing like a close-call to reaffirm someone's goals.

And I supposed, as I continued to hear Blanche speak, that the same could be said for her. "I.. guess I needed some sense beaten in to me." My eyes turned downcast, that overwhelming feeling of repentance creeping back from its dark depths. I... didn't want to be thanked for something like that. Of course, I was happy that she seemed to have changed over the course of our meeting. But the means that I had used had been less than savory, and executed with little to no finesse. I had only wanted the best for her, but I could never change the fact that I had been so close to ending her life. To others, I was sure something like this could be easily overcome. After all, she ended up doing the most damage. But it mattered. For what else did I have to overcome the world's bitter advances, than the strength of my will?

Regardless, I was happy to know that she would carry on, and persevere, and make her people proud- wherever they may be. Wiping the rain off of my cheeks with a single hand, I slowly gathered the strength to rise.

"... I'm leaving, tomorrow."

My eyes remained locked with her own, as I positioned my hands firmly on the ground, preparing my form to sit upright. But before I did, I asked. "Wh-Where will you go?" I inquired, the stutter induced by a spike of agony that I'd felt across the length of my back. I would listen to anything she had to say thereafter, all the while preparing myself (both physically and mentally) for the grueling task ahead. Having built up a sufficient amount of strength, I thrust myself forwards, the palms of my hands stinging with the small shards of glass that managed to pierce them. And, painfully so, I managed to sit up. At that instant, however, a sharp ache pulsed around the surface of my head injury- forcing me to palm the surface of that area and grit my teeth for a moment. I'd endured injuries before. But this one...

"Ack!"

[Apple]

"Wh-Where will you go?"

”..Somewhere.”

I didn’t seem all too concerned about it, but truly, I wasn’t even too sure myself. Before I’d come to Kami no Shima, I’d been fighting along the plains of Kusa no Kuni and its several neighbouring countries, simply trying to survive. I could easily simply go back and travel, but with no home and with little money to afford a place to stay each night, I’d have to figure out what to do quite sharpish, if I expected to leave early tomorrow morning. Where could I go? With the current state of the world, it wasn’t as if places were opening up their doors to shinobi. I wanted to go back to Kusagakure. But that was impossible, unless I wanted to return back to an empty husk of a building with little more than broken glass and charred furniture to call home. But I could sleep on it. My eyes temporarily looking around to see if I could spot Chaima and any help, upon seeing none and noticing that even those who had stayed behind to watch had now left, I could only hope that she was coming back. She wouldn’t just leave Atlas like that.. right? She’d seen the damage he’d been through, and at that time there was no telling whether he’d live or not. She couldn’t have just left. Turning my gaze back to Atlas, I’d soon come to notice that the jounin was beginning to move, or preparing to sit up. Of course, fully aware of the dangers around and the glass that may be embedded in his back, I disregarded my own minor injuries and instead moved forward to try and stop him. ”Atlas – stay down, help will be here soo-” I couldn’t finish my words, stuttering my last as the look of pain that had ruptured on his face was enough to turn me mute.

"...!!"”

No- No! I had done everything right. At the mere sound of him being unable to handle whatever bout of pain had suddenly gone through him, I watched in pure horror as he clasped his head, my own hands, regardless of whatever chakra I had left and whatever chakra I desired to have, began to glow once more. I’d told him – I’d told him not to move until we could get him steady. Leaning over carefully and then holding both of my light-emitting hands around the area of the pain, I tried -- I needed to stop this. ”Atlas! W-what’s wrong?!” I cried as I frantically tried to alleviate his pain. But I was sure that I’d healed everything possible. The skin, the cells- everything. ..Unless the blow had dealt him an injury that I, even as an advanced medic, couldn’t heal. I couldn’t understand. No – This wasn’t happening. With eyes wide open and a terrified gaze I madly looked at each part of his head, from the smallest of nails on his hands which dug in to his head, to the dried blood which coated his already scarlet-coloured hair. I couldn’t – I just couldn’t fail him. Not after I’d already done so much. I couldn’t lose him. I sent my chakra in to his head, fully knowing of the fate that I’d be dealt with if I continued much further. Through his pain and the growing inkling that I was powerless to stop, it only reminded me of that day, and almost in reflection of that I simply charged more and more chakra to my palms. I couldn’t let him die. I was better than that. I couldn’t let anyone die, not any more. Recollections of blood, so much blood came to my mind as my warped vision twisted so furiously, allowing the glistening crimson on my hands to shine out past the medical glow, taunting me. What was wrong with him? What had I not picked up on?!

"Stay with me!"

I demanded, the feeling of lightheadedness potent as I struggled to keep my vision constant, his head turning in to little more than a blob bearing a mixture between skin colour and red, before finely showing detail once more, each hair on his head illuminated by the golden neon lights above. Such sight was drawn away again as I painfully ceased my technique, unable to continue, my left hand holding on to his shoulder to try and keep him balanced whilst my right clasped on to his own hand on his head, my blue eyes still trying to look in to his own through the pain that he displayed, for any sign that he was going to reply. Perhaps I'd overreacted, or perhaps I hadn't, but one thing I knew; if his friends didn't come back soon, then the two of us would be lying in a crumpled heap. Narrowing my eyes to try and focus, I agonizingly fought to stay awake. I could.. already feel the black taking over.

[/b][/u][/color]

Shousen no Jutsu (Mystical Hand Technique)
Rank: D, C, B, A, S.
Type: Supplementary.
Range: -
Handseals: -
Chakra: D - Low, C - Mid, B - x2 Mid, A - High, S - x2 High. x1 high with medic mastery.
Special: Heals and counters damage equal to highest rank known. If healing is stronger than the damage taken, remaining 'Shousen' chakra will course through the target's body until more damage is suffered, essentially helping the medic prevent future injury. Cannot be used on a target with perfect health. Aside from s-rank healing, which occurs instantly, all others require one full post to heal.
Description: Shousen Jutsu is one of the most fundamental yet vital Medical Ninjutsu techniques utilized by medical ninja. This technique allows the ninja to heal wounds by focusing their own chakra to their hands, creating a special chakra designed to speed up the body's natural healing process exponentially. The chakra is represented by a faint glow around each of the user's hands, a perfect circle formed around the appendage, with the glow itself letting off a faint, blue hue. The higher the Medic's skill, the stronger the healing process will be. As such, master medics can use their techniques to perform surgeries that otherwise would not be possible.
Domain: Iryou Ninjutsu.
[/ul]
[/size][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[Estilo]

A Stage In Rouge

---

”Atlas! W-what’s wrong?!”

It felt like someone had plunged a hot knife into the side of my head. My fingers dug into crimson strands of red as I continued to palm the surface of my injury. I slumped forward, aching in pain, the edges of my vision blurring with such intensity that I was forced to keep them closed, cursing underneath each breath and hoping it would all end soon. But, even when I felt the refreshing glow of Blanche's chakra-powered hands, the end was nowhere in immediate sight. This agony went so deep, that I thought I could feel the interior of my cranium tearing apart. I knew, at this point, that I couldn't take it any longer. And, overwhelmed by the sheer torture of it all, my conscious started to slip. Black tendrils formed around the periphery of my vision, signaling my failure to continue remaining sentient much longer.

"Stay with me!"

The groaning, the cries, and the hard grinding of teeth was incessant. And, though caught in this seemingly endless anguish, Blanche's voice managed to carry through. Blanche. The fatigue that I had seen in her eyes previously told me that she didn't have much energy left, and I wasn't keen on having her risk her health any longer. Having seen so many medical mishaps on battlefields, and known firsthand of the consequences on previous occasions, I couldn't let her continue! So, keeping one hand on my injury whilst the other flailed around to find her, I struggled to perceive her form through the blurred and gradually darkening status of my vision. My hand found her forearm, and promptly slid down its length to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her hand away. "No, don't... you can't, Blanche. I- I..."

I collapsed.

My mind faded to black and, as a result, my already beaten body fell on its side. The suffering that my injury had sustained had turned out to be too much for my conscious to bear. And, as the drizzle of rain continued to fall from the sky, it was clear that I would remain knocked out cold for some time to come. I would not be able to see Blanche's progress as the moment passed by, nor witness Chaima and the others arrive. I was, simply, just another unconscious form to find strewn across the surface of the Kami no Shima strip. My night here, like many others, had ended abruptly and hard.

Somewhere nearby, a small squad of Kumogakure no Sato shinobi hurriedly exited past the glass doors of the BIG RED'S HOWL casino and theater. A muscular man with a shaved head^Mal, a young man with shaggy brown hair^Hei, a gentleman with bright blue eyes^"Lucky", and the short-haired Chunin^Chaima maneuvered through the dense crowds before them as fast as they could. A look of apprehension remained etched across all their faces as they advanced, tears that had once streamed down the Chunin's cheeks now dried and half-opaque. The muscular man took the lead as they approached the site of the incident, large hands glowing a ripe green with chakra.

[Apple]

From the way that I was so carefully watching him in his elongated moment of pain, my hand still carefully held on his shoulder to try and support him, I’d watched as the free hand which I had used to heal was batted away somewhat by him in some attempt to stop me. Whilst he’d have gotten there too late where his small attempt to stop me was concerned, a grand majority of my chakra already consumed by my techniques but I had to stay here and protect him. Had it not been that I was currently living on just enough chakra to keep myself poised and had it not been for the fact that I was much too stubborn to simply succumb to this, I fought on, self determination pushing myself to stay conscious for the sake of protecting him from the haggard scum who roamed the streets of Kami no Shima. Of course.. I was a thief. But I pulled it off with style - You’d never see me in a dodgy alleyway trying to mug people. Continuing to have my body shield his to some degree, his attempt to move my arm had managed to shift my own by some degree, although I kept a firm grasp on his shoulder. As things were going now, I only expected the worst, so in this moment of weakness I could only do my best to make sure that he didn’t receive any further damage. I had to wait until Chaima and whatever backup she'd manage to find came back.

He had to hang on

But almost in some twist of fate, as if the gods themselves had heard my prayer and dealt me exactly what I didn’t want to happen, his figure soon became so.. heavy, as it slumped to the side, only barely supported by the hand which I had placed on his shoulder, meekly met with another which then tried to further support him and hold him upright. ”…” Tilting his head forward slightly, I’d again listen in for those important breaths. Come on, Chaima! She couldn’t be too long, she was almost here, right? Removing my ear from his mouth, having heard the necessary breaths required for survival, I again was washed over with relief that the man had merely lost consciousness rather than die on the spot. Of course, I’d rather it if he had been fine without any problems or injuries but often in life the things you wanted most were never given. I was surprised at how.. calm I was being at the moment, but it was surely because of how light-headed I was currently feeling, my body weighing down so heavily on such a fragile feeling.

I was alone.
Somewhat panicked at this, I chose to look around in search of the missing chuunin.

The muscular man took the lead as they approached the site of the incident, large hands glowing a ripe green with chakra.

Noticing a figure - bearing so potent a chakra signal I'd duck and move my head in order to try and get a better look of them- him, as he moved through the crowd. I knew better than any other what that was, and it could only mean one thing. Had Chaima found her teammates, or had she found adequate help in order to aid Atlas? Allowing my right hand to take his entire weight for only a moment, I rose my left and waved it about in order to grab their attention, before hastily returning it, again checking for his breaths. There was no point trying to heal him if he was alive, and I trusted Atlas Burabiya only enough to not die on me now. "Chaima!-" I'd pause, my eyes flicking to Atlas only momentarily, pushing the red hair from his face again after I was done with the breathing checks. As they approached, I'd notice the same faces I'd seen previously. Had they known about the fight between myself and Atlas? I didn't blame them if they thought that I was the cause of all this. On edge; purely because of that idea, I'd nonetheless keep my hands tight on his body to prevent him from falling on to the sea of glass that covered the floor. My knees ached from the pressure and the stinging bite of the shards, but I couldn't have wished for any more deserving pain. "I've.. managed to heal the majority of the injuries.. ..I think he's suffering from the after-effects of intense head trauma, but the injury is gone.." I spoke, my words partitioned by my own lack of breath. "There might be some glass still embedded in his back - I couldn't get at it - his hands - ......" I trailed off as I found more and more that I was using his unconscious body for my own support, as I heavily exhaled, the dark circles around my eyes more prominent than ever. "We ... need to get him somewhere safe. ..If he has got some glass injuries, I don't.. want to risk getting them infected here." and after that, I chose to pay a gaze from the wavering jounin before me, back towards the team that had been assembled by the once exuberant chuunin.

[/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[Estilo]

The Stern Savant

---

The small squad of Kumogakure no Sato shinobi reached the blonde-haired kunoichi from the grass, more than a few of them aghast by the amount of blood they saw pooled on the asphalt, and the destruction dealt to the Golden Palace O far up above- as it continued to spit out sparks, albeit less than it had been doing before. "Gee whiz." The blue-eyed male^Lucky remarked, his eyes widened in complete and utter astonishment at the sight of the entire scene. His muscular companion^Mal, however, didn't say a word or show any sign of distress as he approached Blanche- and Atlas' currently unconscious form. His face remained stern as he evaluated their injuries.

The Jonin medic knelt down to a crouch beside the blonde-haired kunoichi, and grasped the end of her chin lightly with a gloved hand- turning her head from side to side, evaluating the haggard look in her eyes. "My name is Mal." He began, releasing her chin from his brief grasp, then promptly continuing with his efforts. "I believe we've been introduced?" He paused there for a moment, staring her straight in the eye, as the knee he had positioned himself on remained planted to the rough concrete below. Then, without warning, he'd press a single finger at the apex of her upper torso.

"Don't fret. I'm feeding you chakra. You obviously need it."

As chakra continued to surge through the green aura surrounding his hand, entering Blanche's circulatory system at a steady pace, the Jonin medic paid Atlas' unconscious body another glance. Head trauma, glass embedded in his back, a risk of infection. Although he did not show it, he had been completely astonished to find his team leader- and longtime comrade- on the street like this. His mind raced with questions. Even if Blanche had healed him- as was evident- he had no idea whether she put him there in the first place. For now, however, he'd keep his mouth shut. No distractions.

Having revitalized the kunoichi with sufficient chakra to move about, Mal would retract his finger from her upper torso, and deactivate his Shousen. Placing a single, rather large, hand on Atlas' bare shoulder, he'd give the recently recovered Blanche a curt nod. "You can let him go now. I'll be taking him to his room, so I can work on his remaining injuries." Should Blanche release the red-maned Jonin, Mal would be there to wrap an unconscious arm around his neck, hoisting Atlas up until his large muscular frame was carrying the man on his back. Gently, he'd ease Atlas' unconscious body into position, seemingly unperturbed by the weight of the man. He'd walk off, stop abruptly, then look over his shoulder. "You goin' to be fine on your own from here on out?" He'd ask bluntly.

---

Techniques:

[/b]

Chakra Ijou (Chakra Transfer)
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Supplementary.
Range: -
Handseals: 5
Chakra: D- Low, C- Mid, B- High, A- Very High, S- Massive
Special: Allows the user to open a link of chakra transference between the user and the patient so that the user may send chakra to the patient. Amount of chakra used is the same as the amount given.
Description: Chakra Exhaustion is a dangerous thing for shinobi to have to face. Medical Ninja developed a way to fix that problem. By touching the center of the patient's chest with both hands, the user is capable of sending chakra directly into the patient's chakra circulatory system, allowing the system to process the chakra and receive it as if the chakra were the person's own. While the user maintains their touch on the patient's body, the amount of chakra per turn may be sent to the patient up to the rank this technique is trained.
Domain: Iryou Ninjutsu.[/justify][/spoiler][/ul]
[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[Estilo]

"Com" + "Ra" + "De"

---

"Gee whiz."

As their lead medic attended to the blonder-haired lass, and their team leader, the remaining squad members stared with great incredulity at the surrounding destruction. They'd gotten into some trouble before, here in the rambunctious Kami no Shima casino district, but never something like this. What had compelled Atlas to participate in such a reckless and chaotic display of power, was utterly lost to them. The man, for as long as they had known him, was well-respected for his cool-headed and cunning nature.

"What. The. Fuck."

The shaggy-haired Jonin^Hei remarked, looking all around at the destroyed neon signs, many of them seemingly blown apart from the inside. His widened eyes struggled to imagine what had occurred, his mind attempting to cook up some rational reason for all of this. But he kept drawing blanks. Frustrated with the not knowing, he turned sharply towards Chaima. "What happened? Where were you? And why is he- how?" He dug his hands into his shaggy brown hair, knowing with certainty that they were in the shit now. If the officials and the posh in Kami no Shima didn't crucify them for this, then their tyrannical Raikage would. All the damage, all the fines!

Chaima's lower lip trembled. And, before long, she burst into tears once more. Her sobbing face dug into the cover of her opened palms. "I-It's all my f-fault! I was playing the slots at the d-diner, and I-I didn't see them leave, I swear!" She would be comforted by "Lucky", as he came around and gave her a firm hug, softly asking her to hush. "B-by the ti-time I noticed they had gone, they were already fighting h-here. I didn't know why. I... I tried to reach him in time. But, b-but-" Unable to continue any further, she returned to her tearful sobbing. "There... there was so much blood, Luck. I-I... I couldn't have done anything to stop it."

"Shh. It's okay, baby doll. It's okay." Lucky whispered, smoothing out her hair with a single hand. "He's going to get better. He's alive. And we don't blame you for anything, y'hear?" He took notice of Hei's regretful expression as he gazed over in his direction with crystalline blue eyes. This was a hard hit for the entire team... but the point of comrades was to stick together. To persevere through tough times like these, and reevaluate what they meant to each other. As Lucky continued to console Chaima, and as Hei continued to gaze about at the scene with a somber aura, they would all take notice of Mal as he picked up Atlas and carried him on his back.

It was all going to be okay.

[Apple]

As what simple requests I’d made earlier soon came to boom, Chaima and her teammates approaching the scene, I’d listen in as the burly medic began to speak, reintroducing himself. Of course, in the heat of the moment I’d forgotten the names of those who now stood merely meters away from myself and the sprawled body on the floor, but it wasn’t all that important. Although the addition of Atlas’s fellow Kumogakure nin was advantageous in the sense that I’d have more help with making sure that their crimson-haired friend was granted back his health, I knew that they would suspect me of injuring him. And they had all the reasons in the world to do so. Who was I to deny a truth that I now so pitifully regretted? Of course; as all this was happening, I made sure to gaze around at everything else which was happening, from the very concerned expression on the kunoichi’s face, to the less than impressed look that the other displayed, mouthing words at at the moment, were barely audible to me. But however edgy I currently felt about standing right in the middle of a circle of Kumogakure shinobi after having almost beat their partner to death, Mal’s own movement to shift the angle of my face wasn’t met with any opposition; I felt too tired to object even though merely his touch caused me to feel a heavy amount of unease. As his hand then dropped, I shifted my position only slightly as if to get away, before I felt chakra pouring in to my body from his mere touch. Even with this sensation, I writhed, having to distract myself from the contact that he made – I didn’t like being coddled. Whilst I’d starved myself of chakra as a result of my weak disposition, I didn’t like being the damsel in distress. That wasn’t me.

But I had no choice. As I carefully removed my grasp of the injured male, I did so carefully; making sure that he then was supported by the muscled medic in the party, to prevent him from toppling over once more. This switch of authority – the man’s weight now positioned on Mal, gently held in his arms, I felt almost insignificant as they took charge, the mediocre amount of chakra now powering my body much more efficiently than the scarce supply had merely minutes ago. As he moved the man from his bloodied position, I too rose, the tears in my knees encircled by red splatters of blood where the glass had embedded itself. I winced beneath the sharp sting, but – I didn’t let it prevent me from moving. Where were they taking him? Was the giant male well versed enough in medical techniques to give him the correct treatment? What was wrong with him? In all of my years of working in the medical profession, of all of the time that I spent dedicating myself to it when there was so much more to concentrate on – this was the first in a while to genuinely shock me. I could feel it now, my hands still faintly shaking along with my entire body which quaked beneath the mere potential of what could have happened to him. There were too many possibilities. I blanked out, the voice around me becoming merely a numb haze as I focused on the image of the limp man in the Kumogakure shinobi’s arms as his keeper began to walk, unfazed by the additional weight. However – looking in his direction, I caught what he would have expected to be our parting words.

"You goin' to be fine on your own from here on out?"

I ran up ahead of the two, past the short distance that he’d travelled, despite the pain in my knees.

Skidding to a halt a mere two meters before Mal and the subdued Atlas, I began to speak.

”I’m not going anywhere."

I crossed my arms.

”Not until I know he’s alright.”

Whilst I was sure that they'd guessed that I had been the one to deal the injuies, even though Chaima bawled nearby that it was her own fault, I couldn't just leave like that, especially after such a terrifying episode of .. whatever had happened to him. It was unknown to him, and I both wanted to make sure he was OK and healthy and my curiosity was ravenous. I stood, grounded in place as I stared the man down, unwilling to move from my position as I cut across his path, my blonde hair shining in the vivid man-made light. Perhaps my answer had been as blunt as his own last words, but then again; I was serious. I trusted them to take care of their friend but leaving now and risking not ever seeing him again was something I wasn't willing to take. If he was to die in the next few hours and I was gone..

I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.
Whether they wanted it or not, I was coming.

[/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[Estilo]

The Lucky 38

---

Mal paused, his unconcerned gaze locked on Blanche's resolute eyes, as if he were actually considering to allow her to come along. But Hei, the youngest Kumogakure no Sato Jounin in their squad, immediately took notice of this. He took a step forward, only four meters behind Blanche, and six meters away from his muscular companion. His countenance became stern, his tone slightly whispered. As if he were expecting the blonde-haired lass to explode at the mere sound of his voice. "Mal... you sure that's a good idea?" He briefly eyed the back of her head. "We don't even know this dame... or why she had been fighting with At in the first place."

A brief silence fell over them then. Mal, like everything else surrounding him, took note of what Hei had said. And though his rigid "poker face" failed to show it, he was also suspicious of the blue-eyed stranger. Highly suspicious. Bringing her along, he reasoned for a moment, could mean putting his comrade in danger. Perhaps healing him had only been a ploy, a part of a scheme designed to end with something much more disastrous and unwarranted. He would have much rather waited for Atlas to awaken, and explain the whole situation, before bringing her along. But such was not the case, and he couldn't keep dawdling around while their team leader's injuries continued to ooze. "She can come with us." He spoke. "Let's just go."

He advanced promptly then, passing Blanche and taking the lead. Glancing at both Lucky and Hei as he went along, he knew he didn't have to tell them anything else about the current situation. They were just as suspicious of Blanche as he was, and keeping a vigilant eye on her at all times was a given. Though, with the three of them at such a level of expertise, he reasoned that she wouldn't dare try anything that would force them to attack her. But he tried not to think about that as he lead them along briskly, up the boulevard, away from the destruction of that site. As they moved along underneath the intermittent spotlights that lined the strip, a large, brightly-lit tower would come into view. The LUCKY 38

[/i] executive casino and hotel.

⌚ 4

[/u] minute interlude[/i]. ⌚[/center]
They had hurried into the lobby, taken the elevator to the eighteenth floor, and entered the red-maned Jounin's suite via a pass card Hei had looted from his pocket. Once inside the semi-luxurious suite, which had been given to the Jounin as a complimentary gift some time ago, the team wasted no time in preparing him for a healing session. Chaima, having recovered from her previously grieving state of mind, helped Mal carry Atlas into the bedroom. Hei exploded into action as he strived to gather towels and other supplies. And Lucky, having nothing else to do, watched as the entire scene unfolded- keeping a wary eye on Blanche as it went on. Casually staying a short distance behind her. The entire situation seemed chaotic, but was actually quite controlled. The team had great faith in Mal's abilities.

And it showed.

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[Estilo]

Therapeutic Practice

---

"Let's see the damage, Chaima."

Nodding obediently, the short-haired Chuunin would proceed to carefully undressing their Jounin leader from the waist up. She did so quckly, gently pulling off the bloodied undershirt he wore- and doing so with a single hand, as her other kept his unconscious form balanced on its side. When his bare back was free for everyone in the room to see, she'd carefully place Atlas' body face down on the soft mattress once more. She remained on one side of the mattress, eyes opened wide as she paid witness to all that blood streaming down her team leader's back, and the shards of glass that had caused it. And, on the other side of the bed, Mal attended to said injuries.

By then, the muscular Jounin in question had already unraveled a set of tools on the surface of the bedside drawer. He unfastened a pair of tongs from the opened medical pouch and, with a steady hand that could have only come from decades of practice, began extracting the fragments embedded in his comrade's back. Hunched over the red-maned man's body as he did so, he'd narrow his eyes with concentration as he pulled out his first shard of glass. "Hei, where's that tray?" Turning over his shoulder momentarily, just in time to see the younger Jounin arrive with a small bucket instead, Mal would nod. "Leave it beside me. Hand Chaima the towels and disinfectant so she can clean the wounds without glass."

"You got it, boss." He'd answer, complying.

An aura of irrefutable professionalism came over them, a sharp 'ding' surfacing when Mal dropped the bloodied shard of glass he had retrieved with his tongs into the bucket beside him. Chaima would promptly pour some of the disinfectant over the wound that the fragment of glass had left, wiping it clean with her towel thereafter. Then, without so much as a pause, Mal would run a single steaming finger over the recently disinfected cut. The medicinal chakra that had gathered at its tip made quick work of the injury, leaving nothing more than Atlas' light complexion of skin and the very faint presence of blood. There were, of course, several other injuries like this. And it would take them nearly ten minutes to eradicate them all.

[Apple]

Even through hushed tone, it wasn't enough to prevent me from listening in on what was being spoken merely a meter or so before me. I was aware of the concern that they had, but my intention was of the innocent kind. Where before I'd been more than happy to throw him towards a gargantuan neon sign, I now faced the repercussions of my actions, and perhaps for the first time in a while, I was sorry for the actions which I'd taken, or dare I say - the mistakes that I'd committed. As the feisty male conversed briefly with the medic, I could only gaze at Atlas's legs as they drooped down lifelessly. He was alive - Which was something to be happy about, but I didn't now what had happened to him to cause such pain in his head, pain that I, as a medic, should have been able to pick up on. My worry was stretched around the health of the jounin, but too, selfishly, the quality of my own work. I had done all that I could, but it showed that even that wasn't enough in the situation that I'd plunged both myself and Atlas in to. Would the medic before me be able to control it better than I had attempted to do? Taking my gaze off the man and back towards my own hands, it made me wonder - made me think just what potential lay within them. Surely enough I could tear a man's arms from his body if I wished to; but could I not heal those who deserved such promises? Could I not fulfill my duty as a shinobi in the medical ranks? Whilst I was aware that my profession wasn't necessarily my purpose; if I couldn't have picked up on the mysterious complication which had overcome Atlas, who's to say that this wouldn't happen again?

However, may it be purely luck, the good nature of the medic himself or perhaps the fact that they- we, had no time to waste arguing over anything, I seemed to be permitted acceptance in to the group, if only for a short amount of time. I didn't ask for much. I'd been the cause of all of the destruction which had ravaged his body, so fluking out would merely cause too much guilt to surface in my mind. He'd taught me to break free from the bar which I'd limited myself to, to fight past the callous haze which I'd roamed within and to prove that I wasn't merely another lost cause, washed up from the shinobi war. If I said that I was happy I'd be lying, and I could only assume that even in years to come, I wouldn't be content with anything. There was only so much that one could take. True happiness was a limited, precious thing.

In my few moments of contemplation, I hadn't noticed the other neon sign we seemed to be headed to until it was barely out of view, able to just about be able to make out the numebr 38. Being quite wise about these streets, the only place which I could pin such a number to was.. The Lucky 38? I was sure of it. There was no other place bearing those numeric digits, and I knew this place like the back of my hand by now, even with the ditzy, idiotic facade that I put on for the crowds of Kami no Shima. I could undoubtedly believe that I knew the streets better than half of the people currently walking them. The place wasn't exactly the most expensive place in town, but it was quite up-market, and it only led me to wonder who, or, how they'd managed to get their hands on such a place. Perhaps something to do with their village? Or was one of them wealthy? With war having well loomed over my village the wealth of the Kikkawa was rendered useless now as I slept between sheets of newspaper and boxes - frequently I'd been able to purchase a room to sleep in, but I was more than accustom to the feeling cold sting of glass against my skin during a burning sunrise. Following them through silently, walking behind Mal and with my eyes still plastered on Atlas's limp feet, his legs hanging pitifully from the tall man's protective arms.

A small passage of time..

"Let's see the damage, Chaima."

It hadn't been long until I and the Kumogakure team soon found ourselves in the room which I could only guess was theirs to keep and cherish for their duration in this place. Metallic tools caught my eye with a sharp glint from the unnatural light of the room, and I'd watch so carefully as he began to remove the shards from the crimson haired man's back. And in response- I neared. Closing in on them, I sought not to make any offensive or intimidating movements, and instead set myself close to his head, again carefully brushing the red hair out of his face. Trained; I had always been taught to respect the patients even in moments like these; had I been knocked out cold, I'd have liked someone to make myself look at least somewhat presentable. Whilst my movement wasn't much, it was simply a sign of good will, as I painfully stood back at this time, my eyes flickering to and from each member in the group, watching as they spoke, and then listening in as each little clink rattled against the container the glass shards were placed in. Not being able to handle standing there uselessly, I began to speak.

"..Is there.. anything that I can do?"

I didn't expect that they'd trust me to perform anything on him but if there was anything- something for me to do at this point I'd be happy enough to take it. I could feel the doubts that they had about me swimming about in their minds, I could tell by the looks on their faces but still; Atlas's calm, fragile voice rung in my ears, prompting me to do something of some use in the current situation.

"You're a good person, Blanche. You just... forget it, sometimes."

I nodded, mostly to myself.

"Can I get something - or ..clean up?"

I wanted some kind of purpose. With even the slightly boosted amount of chakra that I had after the transfer, my fingers were stiff, ready to expel healing chakra when required, almost as if at a whim. However - I had to keep a calm head. Sadly; I was no longer the head of operations.

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[Estilo]

Mitigated Misgivings

---

"..Is there.. anything that I can do?"

Chaima raised her head to glance at Blanche, momentarily pausing from the disinfecting she had been administrating. Her eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and it was clear that the mere sight of Blanche now inspired a sense of... distrust. Was the light-hearted, fun-loving woman she had met still in there-- somewhere? Was she still the same Blanche they had encountered? Or was this all a ruse? Regardless, she linked Atlas' condition to her. And until At woke up, she could not come to any conclusion yet.

"Can I get something - or ..clean up?"

While the short-haired Chunin had paused, Mal had continued with his task-- seemingly unfettered by Blanche's inquiries. But he responded, just before the silence became too long. "Well," He began, extracting a particularly wide piece of glass from the left shoulder. It slid out between recently sliced flesh, streams of blood dripping down from its sides, gleaming at certain angles. "You can start by telling us exactly what happened, I suppose. We're more than anxious to hear it." He spoke-- his tone, nonchalant and indifferent. The shard of glass he had extracted made a sharp 'ding'.

Nearly all of the shards of glass had been extracted now and, with nothing more than a few to go, the Jonin would shift his glance over to the back of Atlas' head. Though the blonde-haired mystique had claimed she had healed the most pressing injuries on-site, it would be safe to double-check. Just for safety's sake. So, having already paused from his work with tongs in hand, he turned over his shoulder to look at the dame. "And if you'd prefer not to discuss it, I suppose you can help me finish mending his back."

Whether she chose to do one-- or both at the same time-- Mal would place his tongs on the side of the bed, and side-step for a closer look at the back of Atlas' head. Unless Blanche attended to it, the last few injuries on his comrade's back could wait to be healed for a little while longer. They no longer ran a high risk of infection, after all. So, he'd channel chakra into his hands once more, hovering them over the back of his leader's cranium. As information was fed to him, he would lend an ear to anything Blanche had to say. Chaima would help towel off Atlas' back in the meantime.

[Apple]

"You can start by telling us exactly what happened, I suppose. We're more than anxious to hear it."

I didn't doubt that they'd be interested in knowing the truth, of course, Luckily for myself, at the time of the fight, I hadn't noticed any of Atlas's teammates lingering in the area - they'd all gone elsewhere whilst the two of us brawled in the streets, and whilst it was easy to guess that I had been part of it, I understood their suspicions completely. I, out of them all, had been the only one assumed to have been around during the time of his injury, and because of that, I was the one expected to have all of the answers for them. Of course - although I was approached with a request to hear the truth, I'd have been lying if I said that I was more than prepared to explain to them just what had happened. If I lied, I risked being surely injured myself later on from a mob of angry Kumogakure shinobi if they revealed the truth and grew angry at my penchant for lying. But if I told them the truth; then a similar fate still had the possibility of occuring. Honestly, I couldn't win in either situation, and from th-

"- It was me."

My honesty was almost fearsome and I gazed at Mal, my eyes searching hisown, almost as if I was unsure of what I was saying myself, waiting for his reaction. But - I'd spilled the words from my lips without really considering the extent of the damage that could be created from speaking such words. But having outweighed the basics, I'd found it better to show my guilt now rather than keep it hidden until later, where it would be much too late. I'd have expected that he would have wished for me to be truthful, anyhow, along with Atlas himself. What kind of person was I to continue lying in this way? Time slowed again. "It was my fault - he'd angered me and I -" -I couldn't stop. Although he had been the one to irritate me so and plant the seed of fury, nourishing it with his taunts, I'd been the one to take the first action against him. His words, looking back, had made complete sense, but I regretted that it was only now that I managed to see that. Had I picked up on them in a more calm manner back then, then the Jounin wouldn't have fallen from that height, he wouldn't have been injured, and he wouldn't be slabbed down where he was now alike some kind of corpse. But he'd get better - he had to.

However - not wanting to stand uselessly, I chose to instead take up the previous job that Mal had done. Whilst my own hands had been long since more prepped to fare in warfare and with heavier injuries, it wasn't to say that I hadn't removed glass from someone's flesh in the past. From my brother, to my cousins, to Momochi himself after accidentally dropping glasses around the once-plush Kikkawa manor, it was something that often came up which I, as a medic, could easily handle, even in my current somewhat weakened state. From the threads of information I'd been given previously, I called upon them once more, gazing at the open back of the man as Chaima wiped the dried blood from his skin. Taking the instrument in my hand, I'd then narrow my eyes slightly on to his form, starting to pick out the leftover shards. Not many to go, the only work left to do now on the surface was to simply wipe it clean with antiseptic to prevent any further infection after the foreign items were removed, and to heal the small cuts that the glass shards had produced. And so the tongs, as gently as possible, dug in to the punctured areas of skin once Chaima had finished, retrieving the leftover parts as I watched Mal continue to heal his head. C-Spine.. was always a risk from such falls, but I was sure it wasn't that - It couldn't be, right? I'd have been able to fix it easily. There was something else at play, which I could only pray that Mal could heal. I was unsure of how strong a medic he was, but I figured my abilities were of a lower class, or perhaps on par. I was unsure on the matter, but in this situation, it wasn't particularly important as long as we both worked efficiently.


Clink,

Clink,

Clink

.

"He.. accepted my apology but.."

I paid a gaze over to the crimson-haired mass of hair which contained, somewhere, his face.

"I should have listened to him."

"..I just want to make sure that he gets better."

"It's probably not of much use, but; I'm sorry, to you all."

My apology, needless to say, was genuine, as I was sure that from the tears in Chaima's eyes that I'd reconsider everything. I was sure that from the concern they'd showed that they worked well together as a team and having placed it in risk of losing one of its prime members, I felt an unfathomable amount of guilt, even with the jounin's last few words to me having been ones of comfort, even in this conflicting time. Of course; after speaking, I expected them, or someone to rush back at me with some kind of retort, to hate me for what I'd done, but I didn't care. I kept working as I spoke, my eyes focused on his back and the glass shards which I removed. Picking out the last few with clinks resounding against the location I placed them all, I also placed down the tool I'd used to remove them, my hands then starting to glow with a familiar hue as I placed my hands gently above his back, to heal the small injuries sustained from the glass, as I awaited for them to reply. To say the least, I was fully prepared for my honesty to blow up in my face. Allowing my blonde hair to shield my face from the sides, I continue to work on him in silence.

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[Estilo]

A Delayed Diagnosis

---

Mal would keep his stern gaze focused on the back of Atlas' head as the fair-skinned maiden spoke, powering his hands with chakra as he continued to diagnose the extent of his comrade's head injury. When she admitted to be the cause of the severe accident, he would bother to throw her a single glance. Just long enough to lock eyes for a fraction of a second, and see for himself, whether she was being honest with them or not. If she had caused Atlas this kind of injury, and put him on the brink of death, what compelled her to admit committing such an act? Especially with the company of soldiers she was in the room with. Mal didn't understand it. For now.

But when he caught her glance, he soon came to realize that-- because of the severity of the truth-- she felt obligated to practice an honesty many of them had not expected. For, had she lied, it would have eventually surfaced. So what would have been the point of that? He wanted to think that he admired her for her resolve, and her decision. But as the information that was fed to him continued to surge through his hands, and the severity of the injury became more and more unsettling, he didn't quite have the mindset in place for such an emotion. She had caused Atlas to end up this way. She had admitted it, and she continued to do so. And while Mal was an expert at restraint, both physical and vocal, he knew some of his comrades were not.

"It's probably not of much use, but; I'm sorry, to you all."

Mal would pull his hands away, and deactivate the strong green glow around them, just as Chaima stopped from her disinfecting. Her eyes were hidden beneath a thin veil of shadow, her gaze downcast and quiet. And then, without a word, she'd straighten in posture-- and leave the room. Her silence brimmed with disappointment, frustration, hopelessness. She was still coming to terms with the entire situation, that much was certain. And the lead medic of their squad would only offer a brief glance, as she entered the adjacent restroom, and closed the door behind her. Not a single word.

Mal didn't feel like he had to express his own opinion on the matter. He had questions still, sure. But what he felt was most paramount to know had already come out of the fair-maiden's lips. He had no reason to express his distaste for what she had caused. Chaima had done a fine job of that. And, almost certainly, it described the feelings of the entire squad. "There are signs of internal, neurological, damage." He would suddenly mention, standing at the side of the bed, and gauging the work Blanche had done so far on Atlas' back. "But, had you not been there to heal him immediately, it could have been much worse. Aside from the occasional headaches, during the weeks of recovery to come, he'll be fine."

Or at least, he hoped so. He shifted his gaze over to her. "He won't be conscious any time soon. Are you going to stay until he is?"

[Apple]

In order to try and draw away from the growing silence which overcame not only myself or Mal, but the entire group itself, I focused on the work that I was doing, my eyes picking up the smallest of puncture marks on his back where the glass had embedded itself in to his back. Allowing both myself and Mal to operate on the red-maned Jounin as the others surely stared. I had no intention of locking eyes with any of them for the next few minutes after having released to them the truth of what had happened. Of course, it wasn't extensive, but given the fact that I had injured one of their friends, they wouldn't have had enough patience for me to elaborate. In fact, as I kept my eyes directed towards the injuries on his back, I expected nothing less than a punch or kick to fly my way. As time passed and with my blue-eyed gaze slowly and subtly beginning to linger on to the rest of the team, almost in surprise of not what they did, but instead, what they didn't do. From the corners of my eyes I could distinguish their figures, and moreso, the girl's form rising up from her position and leaving. I'd spent weeks now out on the strip; alone and fending for myself through the idiocy of others without batting an eyelid for feelings or anything like that. But now.. all I could feel was guilt, and it showed. However - unable to do much to comfort her given the fact that I was surely the person that she despised most at at this current time, my eyes lingered on the door of the room which she'd escaped to, before turning back to Atlas's back, which by now, was clean of any leftover fragments of glass, and any small cuts. It was an easy job to do, and I knew that it wouldn't make up for all that I had done to him but it was something. However, as silence again rung through the room after the slam from the door that Chaima so emotionally ran through, it allowed me to hear Mal's next words in their entirety - and as he continued, my face drained of its usual healthy shade.

"There are signs of internal, neurological, damage."

"......"

.....

......

......

I'd failed, again.

Such beautiful eyes soon became glassy after he explained the other injuries which he'd sustained which I, an official medic, hadn't been able to pick up on. I felt horrified on equal levels over several branches of concepts. I'd been careless and let my anger get the better of me, and through that I'd risked the life of a person who had deserved so much better, who had so much more going for him than I, and I also had, through my selfishness, surely chained the man to a lifetime of problems that such injuries pertained to. My chest rising and falling quicker and quicker with each passing minute, I could hear Mal speak but I couldn't bring myself to reply. What kind of medic was I? I'd told myself all those weeks ago that nothing had been my fault, but as my mistakes continue to linger onwards, becoming more obvious through this encounter, I began to doubt my ability. But what else could I do? I had no other talents - Ue had always been the skilled one whilst I lingered elsewhere, only touching the smallest of fragments of the praise that he'd been given in our youth. I'd been given a chance by the red-haired man, but in my inability to heal his injuries, I'd failed him. I'd failed my parents and the pride that they'd had upon my ascension to a medical shinobi of the village. I'd failed Momochi; the man of whom I had loved more than anything who had always been so gentle, the only one who had been able to tame my brutal personality so well. I'd promised that I'd prove myself - that I wouldn't let anyone else die in my company. Whilst I'd saved Atlas to some degree, I'd scarred him, and realizing all that I had done, I panicked. Simply being here, I'd obviously upset Chaima and I surely wasn't in the good books of any of the members of the Kumogakure team around me, and henceforth; I was a liability at this time. All that Atlas had said melted away so freely in to the cool, midnight wind, and I could only look at Mal with a look of pure fear as I heard his last words to me. I could feel paranoia growing and growing and bui-

I tried to force an answer, but my throat, painfully dry, prevented me from voicing much, rummaging frantically in my pockets, I emptied my purse close to Atlas, ryo raining out of its confines as if it were rain. Placing the holder back in my pockets, I then swallowed, before speaking:

"I'm.. - I'm sorry--- I-"

And just like that, I did the one thing that I knew best.

I ran.

[EXIT]

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