Coming Undone

[Raizo]

The wooden door would give away under the pressure of Roku as his body came barreling inward. This approach was not as efficient as his earlier uses of ramming into doors and windows, this time his body went stumbling forward before finally collapsing on the ground. There would be the sound of heavy breathing as the shinobi would looked down at his side, the side that had been cut by The Dicer earlier. The wound had healed immediately earlier, which masked the fact that there was something further happening, damage that he did not realize. Now the mark of the wound was a dark purple, almost black, and seemed to be creeping outwards, trying to envelop his entire body. This was the work of poison, something he did not realize his opponent might have coated his blade with until it had already kicked into his system.

Now he found himself, holding onto consciousness, trying to find something to help him with this predicament. He was not very well verse in poison but the ANBU corps do have some training to help with this sort of issue. He just needed to find the right materials. Right now, out of luck, he had found himself stumbling into a veterinary clinic. It was in the Golden District, so only the fanciest of the beasts would receive care here, it was essentially like stumbling into a moderate clinic for humans. This realization would cause him to be a bit angry at the status quo, but his endeavor for social justice and reform would need to wait until his could reform his own health.

Fumbling around the room he would begin his search for anything that might look like a medical cabinet. The effects that he was currently experiencing seemed in line with a poison that was rather common for some of his ANBU brethren, Black Lotus. His vision was fading and his balance was disrupted, it would continue to degrade the longer it remained in his system. Deep down Roku had faith that his body would naturally work out this poison, his natural healing working its magic, but because of the current state of affairs and the fact he had just killed another member of the outlaws he could not risk shelving himself in order to naturally heal. He needed to expedite this matter.

Damn, if only that pretty doctor was here...

WC - 398

 

[Sagasu Yume]

((If only! Unless you want this left alone))

[Enter Migao Tsukiko]

There had been minimal opportunities to get away from the hospital in the last few weeks so when the instance presented itself, Tsukiko took it and ran. Out the door, down the street, and straight for the upper echelon of Suna: The Golden District. The thugs from the prisons and those who called themselves the Cabal had torn the village apart with their anarchy, leaving little left to show that this used to be the richest part of town. Smashed storefronts tarnished the view, glass and debris littered the streets, and ruffians still milled about, ready to take on anyone foolish enough to come and try to shop at the nonexistent stores. Those who were rich were holed up in their mansions of stone and those who were not were plundering what was left behind. Tsukiko didn't consider herself poor but window shopping was usually all she could afford to do when she was here.

Picking through the shards of sparkling glass, she held a few trinkets and gold bangles up to the light, admiring their shimmer. A soft crunch to her left alerted her of the poor sap who had been following the unassuming doctor since she set foot into the district. He would be in for a poor surprise when he tried to strike. In the reflection of a polished pendant, she sees the offender rush out with a knife extended. Stepping to one side, she wraps the chain around the blade as he makes his pass, allowing her to secure the weapon to his chest so it's pointing up under his chin. Resting her cheek over his shoulder, she presses it to his and faces a mirror so he could so how helpless he was as the woman's hostage. Whispering in his ear she looks from his face to the mirror and smiles.

Easy there Kitten. You'd be smart not to attack an enemy you don't understand. A serpent may have no hands and feet but it's venom is certainly more dangerous than the strongest jungle cat.

Holding him tight with her left arm, she uses the same hand to squeeze a pressure point and keep him in a weakened state. If he tried to pry himself out he would most likely suffer injuries from the knife or muscular damage from her grip. With her other hand, she rummages in her satchel for a syringe of clear fluid. She had prepped five of them before leaving her office as a security measure; now she was pleased that it was a practical choice and not simply paranoia. The needle slipped between the dense cords of muscle and allowed her to drug her assailant with a heavy narcotic and induce a deep slumber full of night terrors and cold sweats. Yes, it could be nearly as foolish to attack a doctor as it was to attack and ANBU.

Dropping the man where he stood, she scooped up the evidence and slid the bangles she had been inspecting onto her wrist. Was it really stealing if there was no one there to guard the goods, especially when it was going to be insurance claim when all was said and done? This was a matter of good fortune and a victimless… well almost victimless… day on the town. Back on the streets, she meanders her way through the centre of the road with swinging hips. Wedge sandals and a pencil skirt weren’t practical but she didn’t want to be practical. Being practical meant that the world really had gone to hell and she needed to feel like maybe everything wasn’t so bad. Like her momma used to say, just put on a little lipstick and every thing would be better; so she did. Lipstick, mascara, blush, a ¾ sleeve v-neck fitted purple knit shirt, grey pencil skirt, and strappy twisted rope wedges. It had garnered her a look or two but for the most part the riff-raff couldn’t determine whether she was able or crazy. The result was the same and she was left alone to ‘shop’.

Passing by a veterinary clinic, she notices the door had been knocked inwards and was loosely hanging off one hinge. Maybe someone had come to save the adorable animals that were being cared for? Or maybe it was a junkie looking to use the tranquilizers to get high? Either way, she was curious… Oooooh! Maybe there would still be some cute animals to care for! Stepping into the office, she looks around with a grimace before a noise from the back drew her attention. It was the sound of rummaging but it wasn’t quite right, almost as if who or whatever was there was weakened. Shuffling, fumbling, bumping noises trickled out and Tsukiko followed them back. Peeking around the corner to see who she was dealing with, she was rather surprised to see Roku there looking rather worse than the last time she had seen him.

I guess you could call him a cute animal, though less furry than I was expecting.

Moving forward, she catches him with one arm and pats his shoulder with the other, guiding him to a chair to sit down.

Upsidaisy. There ya go. Hmmm… When you said you were going to give me a patient, I thought you meant someone other than yourself.

 

[Raizo]

There probably should have been pain, right? Roku should have been experiencing some sort of unbearable pain, and yet, his body seemed to be fine. In his delirium, he would not realize this was a bad sign as his body was going into shock from the actual pain his was experiencing. His vision continued to worsen as the world around him varied between moderate vision to blurring swirls of near darkness. Images appeared and then quickly would go out of focus. His hands would continue fumbling around over the different items in front of him, mostly shuffling across the tops of tables, knocking various items onto the ground. During all the shuffling his ANBU mask would fall off, not that he cared during his trance, and would reveal Roku's face along with a portion of his blonde hair poking out from the black fabric of his full body suit, he had to do something to confine his locks or everyone would recognize him even with a mask.

He continued his frantic search until he was interrupted, interrupted by the introduction of a chair he did not realize was there. The four legged obstacle would prove to be his better as it sent his body crashing down once more. Upon the chair his body would stumble forward. After letting out a guttural moan, he would begin to look and sound more like something that you would find in a vet clinic; a wounded animal. In this moment of frustration, weakness and delusion, there would be someone to come to his aid, catching him before his stumble sent him completely to the ground.

The initial touch of someone else didn't register, there was just relief he didn't fall. It wasn't until the voice came forth, regardless of what was said, that he realized someone else was there with him. Pushing away from the figure that held him he would stumble back once more, landing up against a desk, keeping himself propped.

"Who?!...who is there..."

The initial voice was different than his normal voice but also seemed to be somewhat his voice, yet louder followed by his regular, now fading voice. There was something animalistic and darker about the first voice that came from Roku. Something strange indeed.

What the hell was that? Who the hell is here? What the hell have I gotten myself into...


MFT - 394

 

[Sagasu Yume]

(( I didn’t realize you were all ANBU’d up. x_x sorry if that made the whole posting thing awkward.))

You leave the hospital promising a drink and never return and now you don’t remember me? I’m a little hurt.

She only paused a second to give him a mocking pout and crossing her arms under her chest. She glanced over him from head to toe as he stood away from her, seeming rather disoriented about everything. The change in tone of his voice struck her as a little odd but she didn’t dwell on it too much. Voices would crack under stress. That’s what it was right? Just stress? Regardless, her medical concern would take over in short order as her eyes would settle on the necrosis that was working through his body. It would be barely visible except for the point of entry where the damage started. Dropping her arms, her voice took on a note of concern.

It’s me… Tsukiko. We met at the hospital and had lunch together. You seem to have been on the bad end of an attack. Let me take a look. What happened?

She takes a step or two forward, proceeding all the way if he would let her, to get a better view of the wound. The small glimpse she garnered earlier would let her know that it wasn’t from sepsis. It wasn’t red and swollen as one would expect; it was just dead and dying flesh rotting from the point of origin. She was as adept with poison control as any mednin but that certainly didn’t make her a specialist. Anti-venom for protein based compounds and blood cleansing for anything that was more mineral based. Sometimes the body’s reaction would tell her which it was but often, especially in an emergency, it was best to treat for both. She would place her hand gently on his forearm in an attempt to reassure him. She had some quick fixes and had a jutsu that could help heal a little but it was imperative that she worked fast. Poison was less forgiving than a kunai to the skull.

Please have a seat. If that injury is as bad as it looks, you’re probably poisoned. Dashing around like a mad man will only let the venom set deeper and make it harder to heal you. Lets play Doctor for a moment. You liked it last time.

 

[Raizo]

The voice that was talking to him, at least he was sure someone was talking to him, was familiar. Or was it familiar? Things were very cloudy and hazy for him at this point. What if the voice was just another voice, like the one he felt came from his body? That would probably mean he was hallucinating. If that was the case then there was no one there and he was just going insane. But what if that wasn't the case...

His body let out a bellowing, low moan as he continued to brace, very halfassedly, himself for danger. The female voice wanted to know what happened and wanted to help him.

That sounds right, right? I was injured... I know I was injured. I came in here because of the injury, right? Yes, that does sound right. The wound. The Dicer. The wound. It has to be that. I came here. The woman. The wound. The Dicer. Here.

His thought grew further clouded as his eyes attempted to peer out once more, this time getting a faint image of the female before him, and once associated with her name that she gave there was a moment of relief.

It is her. Tsukiko. Not the bad one.

"Not the bad one..."

Without warning the shinobi would take his hands and begin to rip apart at the cut his body suit further exposing the dagger wound. To further indicate the sloppiness of his current state he did not merely rip the fabric to give her a better view, but instead nearly ripped half of the upper body portion off of himself. She would, which since she had probably already seen more of him anyway, would get reacquainted with a mostly shirtless Roku. His body would plop down in a chair, thankfully it was a chair this time, that happened to be next to him.

"Hi..."

Well at least he had the decency to greet the woman, after several minutes of freaking out.

MFT - 394

 

[Sagasu Yume]

The exposed flesh looked almost putrid as evidence of necrosis became increasingly apparent. She allowed herself a moment’s glance at his shirtless chest, having the decency to keep the rosy tinge from her cheeks and her lower lip out from between her teeth. She had to focus. He wasn’t ripping off his garment to show off, this wasn’t one of her romance novels; he was injured and in his damaged state probably didn’t even realize how much he had exposed. That was the problem with being a shinobi after all… they often didn’t know their own strength. Kneeling down by him, she snaps on some gloves and gets closer look, peering over her glasses so that her prescription wouldn’t distort her vision. She needed them for reading and distance, but up close it was best to keep her sight free from obstruction.

Hello indeed. You seem to be a man of adventure. Coming out of a coma and now getting yourself poisoned. I thought ANBU were immune to that sort of thing. That’s what they tell us any way. There are a select few mednin allowed to treat Sunna’s elite. That’s what the body suit was for right? You’re an ANBU? Or did you steal their guise amid the chaos and go vigilante on the Cabal’s ass?

Glancing up, she offers him a smile in response to his nonchalant way of greeting her which she responded to in a chatty manner. The questions were two fold. As with her assessment in hospital, it was best to keep him talking so that she could asses how lucid he was and if the toxin was affecting his breathing. Three fingers to his wrist she would try and pluck out his thready pulse, reaching up to his carotid if she couldn’t find it on his radial artery. With the other hand, she would make a V with her index and middle fingers and peel the gash open to see if there was any healthy flesh left or if it would require proper surgery. The blood that seeped out resembled ichor and she realized that this might not be the time and place for a full assessment. Bending her fingers in a rhythmic pattern, she attacks the poison at the source by shocking his system in an attempt to denature the poison and stop it from spreading further. She would follow it up with a moderate healing as one palm pressed over the slash.

So, Wonderboy, what sort of trouble gave you this? It’ll become quite a scar for your collection.

 

[Raizo]

His breathing, his composure, still was heavy and tensed but there was some calmness coming into play in his chaotic appearance. The comfort of knowing the one helping him, Tsukiko, was enough to help shock some of his mental faculties back into place. The image, the world, and the noises would become clearer.

"I... fighting. A criminal and the Cabal..."

His statement still a bit disjointed.

"Yes, poison training, I thought, but seems I was wrong..."

The progression of the sentence at least seemed hopeful, right? While he could not clearly articulate developed responses to his temporary physician, his mind would begin to attempt to tackle those questions.

That is right, I did receive poison training, right? Maybe my training was fully completed? Maybe this is a new type of poison? Maybe... the accident affected my body somehow? Whatever the hell is going on I am not enjoying it.

His eyes faintly looked up at the female as she asked about what he had gotten himself into. A faint smirk appeared on his face, in contrast the sullen, exhausted expression that covered the rest of his face.

"Maybe I will enjoy it..."

The words, meant to be a thought, came out in a whispered tone.

 

[Sagasu Yume]

((OOC: I am apparently terrible at telling people when I'm going away for vacation. I'm back and hopefully active xD))

Damn straight you’ll enjoy it. Now sit still… this might sting a little.

Extending her chakra through his veins, she attempts to seek out and conquer any and all residual toxins. Had this been prior to his coma, she might have been muddled by liquor and other recreational poisons but for the most part all that inhibited her advance was the lethal pollutant from the recent fight. Sweat formed on her brow, which was wiped away on the back of her wrist to keep from spilling into her eyes as she examined her progress. She knew what had to be done to stop him from bleeding out but first she need to seal up any internal bleeding so that he wouldn’t hemorrhage. The downside to using liquor as a sedative was that it had a nasty habit of thinning the blood.

Most of the external injuries were superficial and could be mended by time or light jutsu techniques but the larger injury that was so conveniently exposed by the shirtless man would need direct attention. Passing him a bottle of whiskey from her satchel that she had looted from the cellar of an establishment, she cracks the seal and wraps his fingers around the neck. Proper anesthetic would be better but this was not the time to be picky; she wasn’t familiar enough with using ketamine to appropriately dose a human with out risking a residual dependency.

Drink only enough to stop this from hurting too much. Next time I’ll be sure to discuss a safe word but for now we’ll go with the age old remedy of intoxication.

Grabbing iodine from the cupboard, she tears open a packet of gauze and douses the material, dabbing away from the wound to sanitize it. Taking out a spool of cotton thread, she sterilizes a needle with a lighter and feeds a strand through the eye. Tying a knot, she begins to sew his side back together, feeding the spine through the cleaved flesh and joining it with the opposite side. She took her time to avoid unnecessary puckering, using stitches that were close together and as flat as possible. As the injury was on his torso, it was improbable that he would rest long enough to ensure a good knit but the stitches would do their best. Slicing the tail of thread away, she snaps off her gloves and tosses them idly into the upturned wastebasket. Standing, she presses her wrist to his forehead to check his temperature followed by taking his wrist between her thumb and two fingers to check his pulse once more.

How’s that? Feeling any better? I’d prescribe bed rest but since I’m not there to keep an eye on you I doubt you would listen.

 

[Raizo]

OOC: So apparently I stink at responding =]

The warmth of her touch, the surge of her chakra, was comforting. It was the most comforting feeling that his mind could draw upon at this moment. It was like being embraced by a hug of the finest silk that had been warmed just slightly above room temperature. It was like being tossed into a refreshing bath. This was a feeling that he wished would last for longer than what he knew it would.

His hand wrapped around the bottle and turned it up, almost out of instinct, sending it sloppily splashing upon his mouth. Portions made it into his mouth and would incite a small cough, the liquor had not made it all down the right pipe, but for the most part he had consumed a vast majority of the whiskey. Enough.

"Ye--ea-ea... yea, thank you for that."

She then began the process of stitching him up, something that might have normally hurt those in this position. Roku was different. This was just another scare that would adorn his body, but aside from his normal penchant for pain there was also another huge difference with this scar; he had the knowledge of the note. His mind, still reeling, seemed to snap for a moment of clarity as a burning question came to his mind.

"Ah, yes there isn't rest for the wicked... Tsukiko, when was the first time you remember me being in the hospital?"

His eyes would look down to her with a new expression. His face was adorned with the stress from the poison and his struggle but within his eyes was another pain, the pain of knowing something and yet not knowing the full truth. According to Sousuke's note he had died fourteen times before finally becoming stable. Did Tsukiko know this information as well?


MFT - 299

 

[Sagasu Yume]

((OOC: That's okay! So am I!))

The question had caught her off guard though it should have been entirely expected from one who had been out as long as he had. She thought it odd that it wasn’t the first question he had asked upon waking up but he seemed more interested in getting out of there than getting answers. A couple of months? Perhaps a year? She wasn’t entirely certain but she could expound on when she had started to take an interest in him. Clearing her throat, she pushed her glasses up her nose, took a seat on the ground, and looked up to Roku.

You had been there awhile but you were never on my rounds. I kept to the emergency areas; some where that was exciting. It’s interesting how generous people become when they believe they’re about to die. I never exploited it but I can’t say that I minded either. Right, back to your question.

It was the Steward coming around that had put you on my radar, so to speak. He came around like clockwork and I thought that if I worked the floor you were on, that I could just bump into him. I know they’re not exceptionally rich but it wouldn’t be a bad life to be wifed by the Steward. You and he must have been close. He demanded that you were revived any time you would flatline; must have happened six or seven times since I switched wards. My colleagues advised against it but I was more than happy to assist him. If you were still alive, he would continue to come around. I admit it was entirely selfish but you can’t blame a girl for following her dreams of being a kept woman. He seemed oblivious any advances, though. I was beginning to think that perhaps he was interested in you but then I noticed how he would interact with one of the junior staff; little turquoise haired thing. She probably wouldn’t know what hole to use if her textbooks hadn’t told her. Anyway, it was rather cute how she would sneak glances and bow politely when she said hello to him. Their interactions were beyond awkward but it was the most attention I had ever seen him give to a woman. So I did what I do best and gossiped with the staff and would you know it? Yume has a thing for the Steward and it’s speculated that the interest is returned. They were caught under the mistletoe during the Winter Festival….

….Sorry. You. We’re talking about you. I never looked at your admission date but I monitored you for close to six months. I wish I could say that you had lots of visitors but I’m not sure you would have been ID-ed if the Steward hadn’t been so religious in his visits.

Her eyes reflected his discomfort as she went silent. She didn’t do silence well and so she scooted closer to sit right next to his knee and take hold of his hand. Her teeth ground around her lower lip as she let him mull over her revelation, trying to keep her gaze affixed to his face. She wasn’t embarrassed so why look away? Perhaps her reasoning for taking positions in wards that didn’t involve communication with people was because, at their core, humans were emotional and as long as emotions weren’t involved you couldn’t get attached. She always talked about being swept off her feet and taken away but that would have involved emotional attachment and had anyone ever got close enough to her to know that, she would find a reason to distance herself. There was something about the pain she saw in his eyes that made her feel guilty at the thought of stepping away; as if people had been doing it his whole life. Maybe offering a shoulder for support wouldn’t be so terrible… just this once.

 

[Raizo]

He sat there, body a ragged mess, covered in sweat, dirt and blood, and his eyes sunken in. He appeared like a corpse sitting there listening to Tsukiko talk about her interactions with him, well more so her interactions with Sousuke. As she talked his hearing seemed to zone out as his eyes gazed outward. The words began to turned muffled but seemed to clearly state the points he needed to hear. Was this selective hearing? Hell, maybe he was having a stroke to top on of everything.

But there was nothing wrong with him at this time, except all the things that were in fact wrong with him. He merely heard the words he wanted while the remaining words fell into the background noise. His eyes remained unfocused as she finished explaining. There would be a brief pause as his teeth would tense and clench for am moment, giving him the appearance of a rabid animal. That image would fade shortly thereafter.

"Tsukiko, thank you for that. Sousuke, or the Steward-Kage, we are friends. It's not shocking that no one else visited me."

His eyes would regain focus as they glanced to her. His humanity would switch back on as he realized that she may have felt some anxiety after saying such words to someone.

"I only held four relationships in this world and only one of them still exists to my knowledge, and it is with that jackass leaders of our."

What a lonely realization for a person to make.\

"After my family issues when I was child I grew to distance myself from those around me, only hold superficial appearances with anyone who got close. I let my guard down with that idiot because he was a naive idiot... the other two were my brother, the only family I considered to have in this world, and another idiot that was merely a passing moment."

Surely his choice of referring to people as idiots didn't help his cause of building good relationships.

"So I died a couple of times.. does that make me a zombie? Should I be happy to still be alive or should I be upset that some jackasses couldn't let my body rest? What should I feel?"

The poisoning from earlier was merely a fleeting moment, her minor work to assist him was enough to get his naturally durable body to start working once more. His focus was back to what had been plaguing him since he learned of his brief past.

 

[Sagasu Yume]

As his sight focused, a moment of angst would pass over his features before he actually looked at Tsukiko. She offered him a small smile to let him know that she would listen and was glad when he continued to speak. Short sentences heavy with realization were interrupted with deep pauses as he wrestled with his inner demons, making admissions she wasn’t certain were entirely of his own volition, thinking that he liquor may have loosened his lips some. Her fingers wrapped around one of his hands as she stroked the back with her thumb, trying to reassure him; of what, she couldn’t say.

You should feel whatever the hell you want to feel. In my experience it is a problem with the human condition that we think there has to be a normal. I haven’t seen one normal person in all of Sunagakure and that extends to our ‘naïve idiot’ of a Steward-Kage

Her smile split a little further as she used the same description the Roku had for their leader. It was liberating to be able to talk trash about one’s superiors. For a moment, she considered elaborating on what it took to bring a body back to life but thought better of it. He had experienced it and if he couldn’t remember the agony of electric shock or the sensation of every muscle in your body releasing and contracting in hopes that your heart would start, he was better off. For those who were attending to the patient and had to witness it, the assault on their senses would stick with them until the nightmares were replaced by other horrors or they drank themselves to sleep; Tsukiko was rather fond of the latter.

Standing up, the mednin decided that it was high-time to end this pity party. Dusting off her skirt as she stood, towering over the sitting Roku as she balanced on her wedge sandals. Wrapping her arms around his head and shoulders, she pulled his face against her chest, keeping in mind not to suffocate him. Her bosom wasn’t gigantic but if a person could drown in 6 inches of water, they could asphyxiate from a hug. She held the hug until moments before it would have been awkward, using his body language gauging his response. Her fingers brushed through his hair, smoothing it from the dishevelled look he had been rocking since removing the hood of his body suit.

Now then, I’m still going to suggest you get a little rest. Your body looks like it’s been kicked to shit. Would you mind if I walked you home? I’m sure there are plenty of idiots out there who would like a shot at kicking your ass and I haven’t had the chance to be on the inflicting end of the wound cycle in a long time.

Tsukiko wasn’t sure if Roku even had a home or where he had gone since being discharged from the hospital. There was an address on file but it could easily have been a fake. ANBU seemed to live a bare minimum of two separate lives: work and home. From the way Roku had spoken of family she could surmise that he didn’t live with them, but she wanted to make sure he made it to a safe residence for a little down time; a moment to take off the mask, so to speak.