He breathed in the smell of disinfectant, enjoying the sterility of the environment as it brought back pleasant memories.
It was here, at least at the old hospital that once had stood here, that a young Yushi Migoya had stood and decided that the art of medicine was something he could and should do. Under the guidance of skilled med-nin he had learned, and in turn taught his skills to others. It was here he had saved lives and in so doing found purpose and belonging.
It was here that he had been when the samurai attacked. It was here that he had seen friends and colleagues butchered - those who had stayed behind to care for the wounded. It was here that he had succumbed to his own wounds, ones he still carried, for not all wounds could be seen.
He was dressed in an immaculate white robe, woven tightly and made of fine woolen cloth that covered a chuunin vest, made of tooled white leather. The insignia of the Myakashi clan could be seen near his neck - an inverted fountain pen nib - but no-where was the insignia of the hidden leaf. His shock of white hair seemed to have been styled as it framed his face perfectly making him quite handsome indeed. Crimson eyes seemed to drink in the surroundings as he silently walked forward to once again take his place amongst the best and brightest in the village.
A smile graced his porcelain features. He was back where he belonged.
It was here, at least at the old hospital that once had stood here, that a young Yushi Migoya had stood and decided that the art of medicine was something he could and should do. Under the guidance of skilled med-nin he had learned, and in turn taught his skills to others. It was here he had saved lives and in so doing found purpose and belonging.
It was here that he had been when the samurai attacked. It was here that he had seen friends and colleagues butchered - those who had stayed behind to care for the wounded. It was here that he had succumbed to his own wounds, ones he still carried, for not all wounds could be seen.
He was dressed in an immaculate white robe, woven tightly and made of fine woolen cloth that covered a chuunin vest, made of tooled white leather. The insignia of the Myakashi clan could be seen near his neck - an inverted fountain pen nib - but no-where was the insignia of the hidden leaf. His shock of white hair seemed to have been styled as it framed his face perfectly making him quite handsome indeed. Crimson eyes seemed to drink in the surroundings as he silently walked forward to once again take his place amongst the best and brightest in the village.
A smile graced his porcelain features. He was back where he belonged.