Core Ability: Benevolent 20/20
Master Healer (3)
Purify (2)
Cure Spell (3)
Healing Aura (2)
Prevention (3)
Patience (2)
Sacred Guard (3)
Genesis (2)
Abilities
0. Paramedic
0. Combat Medic
1. Thick Blood
2. Healing Factor
3. Barrier mastery
4. Hyperactive
5. Conservative motion
6. Transmit Life
7. Anointed - Medical Chakra style
Roleplay, 532 words:
Hospital records swear that my father died
after my Mom, but the doctors didn't really know him. A Sasaki and his wife are with each other from birth, and have never existed without the other. So when it's time to, few actually can... and maybe we're not meant to.
My Dad took his own life three weeks after my mother passed, and personally I was happy when he did. I think we all were. I remember coming home from school a bit earlier than usual, and finding him at the end of the house crying to himself. His screams were so painful and broken that it was almost impossible to hold back screams of my own. I wanted to hold him, to remind him that I was still here. But I wasn't ever going to mean as much to him as my mother had. I knew that, so when I found his charred corpse sitting in the middle of our garden, I forgave him.
And I promised myself that I'd always protect the woman who shared my soul, at any cost. So when my beautiful wife returns home at the end of the day, clothes torn, and cuts along her face and arms, I lose sight of reason. I don't ask how I ended up in an alley ankle deep in a pool of blood and flesh; I don't ask why the boy cowering in the corner is screaming "stop stop stop" at the top of his lungs; I don't say anything. I just walk over to the boy, no more than three years from adulthood, and push my knife through his throat. My eyes don't leave his until his chest stops moving, until the beat of his heart is too weak to be heard. And when he tries to close his eyes I pull them open again,
"I am the last person you will ever see, and fear is the last thing you'll ever feel"
I pulled the blade from him, and pressed my hand against his throat. Refusing to let him die any faster than I wanted him to. Two of my cousins, of the few I have left, sacrificed themselves to give my wife a chance to escape.
"You killed them, you killed them... and it's only fair that I kill you"
I could hear my fathers voice behind each one of my doubts, "We are strongest when killing for those we care about, because our anger robs us of compassion, of rhyme and morality. It is the rage of our house that gives us the strength to protect the entire clan."
I don't notice the absence of breathing or beating. The complete silence of him is lost in the noise of my thoughts, how far do I need to go before my family is safe? How many lives will it cost to ensure our survival? I live for my family, and I must do whatever I can to protect them.
The walk home is peaceful, the boy is lighter than I thought he'd be. But for whatever reason, he survived the longest. His body must be worth something, an entire well of untapped potential, waiting to be used.