Kaoru Miyazaki
03-25-2013, 03:06 AM
(OOC: This was an RP thread meant to treat the Shinigami who were injured during the mini-mission: Meat Trap. I only have my posts for Hijiri and Flare to work off of...but we'll see about getting this back on track sometime.)
Hijiri Minatou
The young Fukutaichou of Fourth was currently sitting at his desk, poring over the various paperwork spread out in front of him. But his mind wasn't on his work. Minutes earlier, he'd been informed that some members of the Ninth division were going to be bringing at least three injured Shinigami to Fourth for treatment. Of course, someone was already waiting at the front gate to receive them, but he couldn't help wondering what to expect. The person who'd informed him didn't seem to know much, but what he could say indicated that the three incoming patients were pretty banged up.
Hijiri sighed softly, closing his eyes. He knew without a doubt that until those patients arrived and were being tended to, he wouldn't be able to get any paperwork done. In Fourth, the patients always came first, and paperwork could wait, indefinitely if need be. No matter that the paperwork had been piling up recently, what with their Taichou away on some sort of mysterious mission. Some small part of him regretted that he wasn't working his way through the growing stacks, but he couldn't help it - his mind was simply elsewhere.
As if on some unspoken cue, the door of his office slid open and an unseated healer with long black hair and ruby-red eyes entered. The healer had a pair of black cat ears on top of his head, accompanied by a furry black cat tail that trailed behind him, and he wore the simple shihakushou of all Shinigami, with his medical pack slung across his back, the strap sitting diagonal across his chest. Giru Makenshii had a somewhat rugged appearance, and a rough personality, but he was an excellent healer and a very-trusted team member who had been handpicked by Hijiri himself.
Giru wasted no time in approaching Hijir's desk. “Minatou-kun,” he said, addressing Hijiri in the manner that the teenager preferred, “the members from Ninth have just handed off the injured Shinigami to our staff. As reported, there are three of them. Shugoshita, the Adjutant of Third. Evergreen, Fourth seat of Eighth. And Shenkibeto, an unseated lad from Eleventh. Evergreen and Shenkibeto are in pretty bad shape, Shugoshita was the only one who was found conscious.”
Only one of those names sounded even remotely familiar to Hijiri, not that it actually mattered in the long run. Still, he couldn't help but spare a thought for the one whom he recognized. 'Shenkibeto...? Unseated? What the...? I could have sworn that he was a Fukutaichou, too. Could it be someone else?'
The raven-haired teenager waved his hand gently, waving the thought aside. “All right,” he nodded, proceeding to stand up from his desk. “Who's free to lend us a hand at the moment?”
“Well, there's always Saku-kun, and the new guy...Sakon-san, I think...he's got nothing to do at the moment,” Giru answered, watching his Fukutaichou with a calm yet serious expression.
Hijiri nodded again, pushing in his chair. “Good. Please go and fetch them, Makenshii-san. I'll go and get the patients settled into some vacant rooms, and have the teams start the prep work. Sounds like we're going to need some extra supplies for this.” With that, he made his way around Giru and walked out through the open door, lightly jogging down the hallway as he went to meet with the team who'd received their latest patients for the evening.
Not even ten minutes later, Hijiri had managed to organize the teams, stock three rooms with extra supplies, and move all three patients into Rooms 101, 102, and 103. Shugoshita was in 101, with Evergreen in 102, and Shenkibeto in 103. He'd also managed a glimpse at Shenkibeto and, to his surprise, it wasn't the Fukutaichou he'd been expecting to see. It was a boy whom he'd never met before, but who definitely looked as if he were related to the real Fukutaichou of Eleventh. Granted, his degree of relation to a superior officer didn't necessarily mean he should be given special treatment over the others, but he did look to be in pretty bad shape, and Hijiri did take that into account as he organized everyone.
After Giru had brought Saku and Yukimura to the aforementioned rooms, Hijiri designated their patients to them. He assigned Saku to Lawler, knowing that Saku, as a team leader, would be perfectly fine on his own. He then placed Shenkibeto in Yukimura's care, and told Giru to assist him, should he need it. This seemed the perfect opportunity to see what Yukimura was capable of, especially with a patient who had some pretty severe injuries. With Giru assisting, Hijiri felt there was nothing to worry about. Lastly, he opted to take care of Shugoshita himself, with assistance from the third team. Once everyone had gone to their rooms, he went into his.
Fortunately, it seemed that Shugoshita had remained conscious; always a good sign. It was when patients had passed out that there was cause for greater concern. A cursory examination told Hijiri most of what he needed to know about the Shinigami's injuries. Minor burns to the hands and legs, bruises on the head, torso, and limbs, various scrapes and scratches, and, strangely, the man's reiatsu was alarmingly low. Hijiri wondered how he was still conscious as he approached Shuga's bed, rolling up his long sleeves to get them out of the way.
“Greetings, Shugoshita-san,” he murmured a quick greeting, offered a reassuring smile, “please tell me. Do you have any injuries you feel I should know about? Even something small might be cause for concern, so please don't leave anything out.”
'External injuries, that appears to be correct. But his Gigai took most of the damage? If he was in a Gigai, then he really must've been in trouble, and then he pushed it on top of that...'
Hijiri ever-so-carefully took Shuga's arms in his hands as the man offered them up, expertly avoiding touching any of the burns that covered them, while at the same time gently turning them so that he could see how severe they were. None of the burns appeared to be third degree, which was a small relief. He gently released Shuga's arms, moving around the bed to acquire a container of thick salve capable of preventing any further burn damage. As he spread the salve onto each wound, he spoke, answering his fellow Shinigami.
“Believe me, Shugoshita-san, treating patients is the best use of my time,” he said, gently applying a measured layer of salve onto one of the burns, “The two officers who were brought in with you are being taken care of right now, so there is no need to worry about them. There's also no need to apologize for having pushed yourself. It's not as if you're the only patient who's done that, and I'm sure you must've had a good reason. That aside, I'm just glad that you returned to us alive.”
'Burns should be okay for the moment. Now, to help him regain his reiatsu, and manage his pain. Then I can take care of those bruises and scrapes...'
“I'm going to insert a few I.V.s now. The needles will sting a bit going in, but please try to ride it out. They're going to help you out a lot, I promise,” Hijiri smiled, cleaning a small section of Shuga's arm with an alcohol pad.
A few minutes later, the I.V.s were inserted and the contents of three plastic bags were flowing directly into Shuga's veins. There was one to help restore the lost reiatsu, one to restore lost hydration, and one for pain management. Once that was done, Hijiri busied himself with healing the minor scrapes and bruises, most of which required only a little of his healing reiatsu before they disappeared completely. But the burns would be harder to heal, and as he started to focus his healing reiatsu on the first one, he summoned over two more healers to assist him.
Overall, the team finished their task in just under an hour, and by that time, quite a few of them had managed to exhaust themselves. Hijiri had to admit that this was the most tired he'd been in a long time, but that hardly seemed to matter now that Shuga was in a more stable condition. The raven-haired healer wiped his brow on the back of his arm and sat down in a rolling stool near the bed. He dismissed the team, before starting to fill out Shuga's patient chart. The only thing that seemed off was that Shuga hadn't regained his reiatsu, despite the transfusion, so he made a small note of it, and lowered the clipboard to his lap, smiling at Shuga.
“There now, I think we took care of mostly everything,” he paused, stifling a small yawn that came from out of nowhere, “However, you don't seem to be recovering your reiatsu very well... We'll have to look into that. For the time being, I'm going to recommend that you stay here and rest for a while. I assume you'll want to write a report sometime soon, but if you'd like, I can write it for you, I don't mind. Though I really think you ought to just rest and relax.” Hijiri smiled warmly, leaving it mostly up to Shuga to decide what to do.
Flare Shenkibeto
“Wake up, brat.” A familiar voice growled through his mind.
“Axel?” That was Flare's first conscious thought. It drifted away in the darkness.
“Finally awake? That's good. I was starting to worry.” So, it wasn't Axel, but the voice still sounded familiar...the voice of the being within his zanpakutou.
Flare slowly started to become aware that he was laying on his back. His eyelids felt heavy, but he slowly forced them open, and at first all he could see was darkness. There was a single terrifying moment where his heart beat sped up, and fear overtook his mind. But then the darkness vanished, revealing his surroundings. He was laying in a desolate forest where most of the trees were barren of their leaves, gray and gnarled, and the sky overhead was orange-red instead of blue or black. It was quiet, and he knew that he was inside a new inner world again.
As depressing and creepy as the new world was, he couldn't help but simply feel glad that he was alive and seemed to be in one piece for the most part. However, as he tried to sit up, his arm smarted and pain ripped through it, causing him to cry out. He lay still after that, panting hard as he waited and hoped that the pain would recede, and his red eyes stared hazily up the red sky above. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that perhaps there was a fire burning the forest away and coloring the sky red, but there were no flames or smoke to indicate a fire anywhere.
“You should take it easy. You're not out of the woods yet, as it were.” Someone spoke to him, and they sounded as if they were extremely close to him.
“Huh?” Flare raised his head and found himself staring at a being he had not laid eyes on in a very, very long time. “It's you...” he breathed, his eyes growing wide in amazement.
The spirit of his zanpakutou stood before him. He was a young man, a humanoid form, similar to Flare in both height and weight, though he had a good deal more muscle on him. His hair was the same deep crimson red, but it was much, much longer, cascading in one smooth wave all the way down to the ground, where it trailed away behind him. His eyes were a dark blue, and they had the slitted pupils of a beast rather than a normal pupil. Blackness cloaked his body, concealing everything except his head, neck, hands, and feet. His fingernails were long, more claw-like than anything. He walked forward, his long hair trailing behind him, and stood at Flare's side, staring down at him.
“Ah, so you remember me. I'm glad,” he said, kneeling down beside Flare.
“Of course I remember you. I mean, it's been a couple hundred years since I actually saw you face to face, but it's not as though I ever really forgot you,” Flare turned his head so that he could look upon the spirit. “You're finally showing yourself to me again. What does that mean, exactly?”
“Over five hundred years, give or take some, yes. But you were asleep for most of them, and I was sure you had forgotten everything, or mostly everything,” the spirit replied, gazing coolly down at his Shinigami master. “Don't act so surprised. I came to check on you, is that so unusual? Tell me, how is your back feeling?”
“My back?” Flare blinked his confusion. “Oh, that's right, those guys landed on me... Hang on, let me sit up and I'll tell you.” Using his good arm, he managed to push himself up off the ground. A ripple of pain emanated from the side of his waist, and he cringed as his nerves cried for him to lay back down. But he grit his teeth and forced himself to sit up. Beyond the pain from his arm and waist, he waited to feel any that might be coming from his back, and was surprised when he felt nothing. “Did...did you heal my back for me...?” he looked back at the spirit.
“I did what I could, but I'm not sure I healed your spine completely. But I am sure that the medics will take care of anything that I couldn't. Most of my energy was expended in trying to keep you alive, if you recall,” the man with blue eyes continued to stare indifferently down at him.
“Thank you...” Flare sat still, waiting for the pain to recede again. That was right, he remembered Shuga telling him that help was on its way before he passed out, so the chances were good that he was already back home and in the care of the Fourth Division. Or so he hoped that was the case.
“Flare,” the spirit spoke, capturing his young master's attention, “can you hear my name yet?”
The question made Flare immediately look up. For the second time, his eyes widened and his pulse sped inside his chest. He forced himself to calm down and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he closed his eyes. There was only silence in the darkness, and he listened as hard as he could, hoping that this time he would be able to hear his zanpakutou's name. The silence stretched on and on, and he could feel his heart starting to sink. Then, from within the darkness, he heard something, a resonance of indescribable origin.
“...-ya...ka-...yu-...”
“What?” He hurled his consciousness forward, listening hard, trying to grasp the full name. But it was no use, the name was not repeated, and silence filled the void once more. “I...I couldn't hear your full name...just pieces of it...” he said aloud, slowly opening his eyes. He sighed, disheartened, sagging in on himself before looking back at the spirit.
“That just means you're getting closer, we're getting closer,” the spirit set calm blue eyes on him, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll hear it soon.”
Hijiri Minatou
The young Fukutaichou of Fourth was currently sitting at his desk, poring over the various paperwork spread out in front of him. But his mind wasn't on his work. Minutes earlier, he'd been informed that some members of the Ninth division were going to be bringing at least three injured Shinigami to Fourth for treatment. Of course, someone was already waiting at the front gate to receive them, but he couldn't help wondering what to expect. The person who'd informed him didn't seem to know much, but what he could say indicated that the three incoming patients were pretty banged up.
Hijiri sighed softly, closing his eyes. He knew without a doubt that until those patients arrived and were being tended to, he wouldn't be able to get any paperwork done. In Fourth, the patients always came first, and paperwork could wait, indefinitely if need be. No matter that the paperwork had been piling up recently, what with their Taichou away on some sort of mysterious mission. Some small part of him regretted that he wasn't working his way through the growing stacks, but he couldn't help it - his mind was simply elsewhere.
As if on some unspoken cue, the door of his office slid open and an unseated healer with long black hair and ruby-red eyes entered. The healer had a pair of black cat ears on top of his head, accompanied by a furry black cat tail that trailed behind him, and he wore the simple shihakushou of all Shinigami, with his medical pack slung across his back, the strap sitting diagonal across his chest. Giru Makenshii had a somewhat rugged appearance, and a rough personality, but he was an excellent healer and a very-trusted team member who had been handpicked by Hijiri himself.
Giru wasted no time in approaching Hijir's desk. “Minatou-kun,” he said, addressing Hijiri in the manner that the teenager preferred, “the members from Ninth have just handed off the injured Shinigami to our staff. As reported, there are three of them. Shugoshita, the Adjutant of Third. Evergreen, Fourth seat of Eighth. And Shenkibeto, an unseated lad from Eleventh. Evergreen and Shenkibeto are in pretty bad shape, Shugoshita was the only one who was found conscious.”
Only one of those names sounded even remotely familiar to Hijiri, not that it actually mattered in the long run. Still, he couldn't help but spare a thought for the one whom he recognized. 'Shenkibeto...? Unseated? What the...? I could have sworn that he was a Fukutaichou, too. Could it be someone else?'
The raven-haired teenager waved his hand gently, waving the thought aside. “All right,” he nodded, proceeding to stand up from his desk. “Who's free to lend us a hand at the moment?”
“Well, there's always Saku-kun, and the new guy...Sakon-san, I think...he's got nothing to do at the moment,” Giru answered, watching his Fukutaichou with a calm yet serious expression.
Hijiri nodded again, pushing in his chair. “Good. Please go and fetch them, Makenshii-san. I'll go and get the patients settled into some vacant rooms, and have the teams start the prep work. Sounds like we're going to need some extra supplies for this.” With that, he made his way around Giru and walked out through the open door, lightly jogging down the hallway as he went to meet with the team who'd received their latest patients for the evening.
Not even ten minutes later, Hijiri had managed to organize the teams, stock three rooms with extra supplies, and move all three patients into Rooms 101, 102, and 103. Shugoshita was in 101, with Evergreen in 102, and Shenkibeto in 103. He'd also managed a glimpse at Shenkibeto and, to his surprise, it wasn't the Fukutaichou he'd been expecting to see. It was a boy whom he'd never met before, but who definitely looked as if he were related to the real Fukutaichou of Eleventh. Granted, his degree of relation to a superior officer didn't necessarily mean he should be given special treatment over the others, but he did look to be in pretty bad shape, and Hijiri did take that into account as he organized everyone.
After Giru had brought Saku and Yukimura to the aforementioned rooms, Hijiri designated their patients to them. He assigned Saku to Lawler, knowing that Saku, as a team leader, would be perfectly fine on his own. He then placed Shenkibeto in Yukimura's care, and told Giru to assist him, should he need it. This seemed the perfect opportunity to see what Yukimura was capable of, especially with a patient who had some pretty severe injuries. With Giru assisting, Hijiri felt there was nothing to worry about. Lastly, he opted to take care of Shugoshita himself, with assistance from the third team. Once everyone had gone to their rooms, he went into his.
Fortunately, it seemed that Shugoshita had remained conscious; always a good sign. It was when patients had passed out that there was cause for greater concern. A cursory examination told Hijiri most of what he needed to know about the Shinigami's injuries. Minor burns to the hands and legs, bruises on the head, torso, and limbs, various scrapes and scratches, and, strangely, the man's reiatsu was alarmingly low. Hijiri wondered how he was still conscious as he approached Shuga's bed, rolling up his long sleeves to get them out of the way.
“Greetings, Shugoshita-san,” he murmured a quick greeting, offered a reassuring smile, “please tell me. Do you have any injuries you feel I should know about? Even something small might be cause for concern, so please don't leave anything out.”
'External injuries, that appears to be correct. But his Gigai took most of the damage? If he was in a Gigai, then he really must've been in trouble, and then he pushed it on top of that...'
Hijiri ever-so-carefully took Shuga's arms in his hands as the man offered them up, expertly avoiding touching any of the burns that covered them, while at the same time gently turning them so that he could see how severe they were. None of the burns appeared to be third degree, which was a small relief. He gently released Shuga's arms, moving around the bed to acquire a container of thick salve capable of preventing any further burn damage. As he spread the salve onto each wound, he spoke, answering his fellow Shinigami.
“Believe me, Shugoshita-san, treating patients is the best use of my time,” he said, gently applying a measured layer of salve onto one of the burns, “The two officers who were brought in with you are being taken care of right now, so there is no need to worry about them. There's also no need to apologize for having pushed yourself. It's not as if you're the only patient who's done that, and I'm sure you must've had a good reason. That aside, I'm just glad that you returned to us alive.”
'Burns should be okay for the moment. Now, to help him regain his reiatsu, and manage his pain. Then I can take care of those bruises and scrapes...'
“I'm going to insert a few I.V.s now. The needles will sting a bit going in, but please try to ride it out. They're going to help you out a lot, I promise,” Hijiri smiled, cleaning a small section of Shuga's arm with an alcohol pad.
A few minutes later, the I.V.s were inserted and the contents of three plastic bags were flowing directly into Shuga's veins. There was one to help restore the lost reiatsu, one to restore lost hydration, and one for pain management. Once that was done, Hijiri busied himself with healing the minor scrapes and bruises, most of which required only a little of his healing reiatsu before they disappeared completely. But the burns would be harder to heal, and as he started to focus his healing reiatsu on the first one, he summoned over two more healers to assist him.
Overall, the team finished their task in just under an hour, and by that time, quite a few of them had managed to exhaust themselves. Hijiri had to admit that this was the most tired he'd been in a long time, but that hardly seemed to matter now that Shuga was in a more stable condition. The raven-haired healer wiped his brow on the back of his arm and sat down in a rolling stool near the bed. He dismissed the team, before starting to fill out Shuga's patient chart. The only thing that seemed off was that Shuga hadn't regained his reiatsu, despite the transfusion, so he made a small note of it, and lowered the clipboard to his lap, smiling at Shuga.
“There now, I think we took care of mostly everything,” he paused, stifling a small yawn that came from out of nowhere, “However, you don't seem to be recovering your reiatsu very well... We'll have to look into that. For the time being, I'm going to recommend that you stay here and rest for a while. I assume you'll want to write a report sometime soon, but if you'd like, I can write it for you, I don't mind. Though I really think you ought to just rest and relax.” Hijiri smiled warmly, leaving it mostly up to Shuga to decide what to do.
Flare Shenkibeto
“Wake up, brat.” A familiar voice growled through his mind.
“Axel?” That was Flare's first conscious thought. It drifted away in the darkness.
“Finally awake? That's good. I was starting to worry.” So, it wasn't Axel, but the voice still sounded familiar...the voice of the being within his zanpakutou.
Flare slowly started to become aware that he was laying on his back. His eyelids felt heavy, but he slowly forced them open, and at first all he could see was darkness. There was a single terrifying moment where his heart beat sped up, and fear overtook his mind. But then the darkness vanished, revealing his surroundings. He was laying in a desolate forest where most of the trees were barren of their leaves, gray and gnarled, and the sky overhead was orange-red instead of blue or black. It was quiet, and he knew that he was inside a new inner world again.
As depressing and creepy as the new world was, he couldn't help but simply feel glad that he was alive and seemed to be in one piece for the most part. However, as he tried to sit up, his arm smarted and pain ripped through it, causing him to cry out. He lay still after that, panting hard as he waited and hoped that the pain would recede, and his red eyes stared hazily up the red sky above. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that perhaps there was a fire burning the forest away and coloring the sky red, but there were no flames or smoke to indicate a fire anywhere.
“You should take it easy. You're not out of the woods yet, as it were.” Someone spoke to him, and they sounded as if they were extremely close to him.
“Huh?” Flare raised his head and found himself staring at a being he had not laid eyes on in a very, very long time. “It's you...” he breathed, his eyes growing wide in amazement.
The spirit of his zanpakutou stood before him. He was a young man, a humanoid form, similar to Flare in both height and weight, though he had a good deal more muscle on him. His hair was the same deep crimson red, but it was much, much longer, cascading in one smooth wave all the way down to the ground, where it trailed away behind him. His eyes were a dark blue, and they had the slitted pupils of a beast rather than a normal pupil. Blackness cloaked his body, concealing everything except his head, neck, hands, and feet. His fingernails were long, more claw-like than anything. He walked forward, his long hair trailing behind him, and stood at Flare's side, staring down at him.
“Ah, so you remember me. I'm glad,” he said, kneeling down beside Flare.
“Of course I remember you. I mean, it's been a couple hundred years since I actually saw you face to face, but it's not as though I ever really forgot you,” Flare turned his head so that he could look upon the spirit. “You're finally showing yourself to me again. What does that mean, exactly?”
“Over five hundred years, give or take some, yes. But you were asleep for most of them, and I was sure you had forgotten everything, or mostly everything,” the spirit replied, gazing coolly down at his Shinigami master. “Don't act so surprised. I came to check on you, is that so unusual? Tell me, how is your back feeling?”
“My back?” Flare blinked his confusion. “Oh, that's right, those guys landed on me... Hang on, let me sit up and I'll tell you.” Using his good arm, he managed to push himself up off the ground. A ripple of pain emanated from the side of his waist, and he cringed as his nerves cried for him to lay back down. But he grit his teeth and forced himself to sit up. Beyond the pain from his arm and waist, he waited to feel any that might be coming from his back, and was surprised when he felt nothing. “Did...did you heal my back for me...?” he looked back at the spirit.
“I did what I could, but I'm not sure I healed your spine completely. But I am sure that the medics will take care of anything that I couldn't. Most of my energy was expended in trying to keep you alive, if you recall,” the man with blue eyes continued to stare indifferently down at him.
“Thank you...” Flare sat still, waiting for the pain to recede again. That was right, he remembered Shuga telling him that help was on its way before he passed out, so the chances were good that he was already back home and in the care of the Fourth Division. Or so he hoped that was the case.
“Flare,” the spirit spoke, capturing his young master's attention, “can you hear my name yet?”
The question made Flare immediately look up. For the second time, his eyes widened and his pulse sped inside his chest. He forced himself to calm down and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he closed his eyes. There was only silence in the darkness, and he listened as hard as he could, hoping that this time he would be able to hear his zanpakutou's name. The silence stretched on and on, and he could feel his heart starting to sink. Then, from within the darkness, he heard something, a resonance of indescribable origin.
“...-ya...ka-...yu-...”
“What?” He hurled his consciousness forward, listening hard, trying to grasp the full name. But it was no use, the name was not repeated, and silence filled the void once more. “I...I couldn't hear your full name...just pieces of it...” he said aloud, slowly opening his eyes. He sighed, disheartened, sagging in on himself before looking back at the spirit.
“That just means you're getting closer, we're getting closer,” the spirit set calm blue eyes on him, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll hear it soon.”