After investing more research into the area before her departure for the mission she was assigned by Nao, Masami learned much of what the Sennin told her the other day. Being on a schedule, Masami refrained from plunging herself too far into historical studies, but she managed to ascertain that one of its “affectionate” monikers was the City of Thieves. As she was warned prior, any number of illegal activities tended to occur within its walls; however, the Sennin pointed out on a map for her before and demonstrated a route she could take to her quarry that would avoid unnecessary conflict.
Arriving at the site in the morning, the Uchiha traversed that route while she drank in the scenery around her. Being an artist, she always was insistent on memorizing her surroundings and different scenes to paint them later. Even on a surface level, she could tell Crater City was as much of an impoverished depression as it was made out to be; not every work of art needed to exhibit happy characteristics. Perhaps she would weave feelings of lingering anguish within the work, but symbolize the waking remnants of hope that still burned. While she was uncertain how she would convey it at the time, she was sure a good idea would come to her, and her uncle would praise her for her depiction.
Thankfully, the two individuals she was assigned to help lived relatively close to one another. Not only did she conclude it would be best to make the briefest stop first, but she chose to visit the individual who held the highest potential of infection; hence why Nao had her prescribe antibiotics and painkillers to him. At ninety-years-old, should he suffer a serious infection from the wound he suffered, then it could prove fatal. The other patient, as she wasn’t provided antibiotics to prescribe to her, she wagered did not sport a break that ran the risk of infection. In fact, certain fractures were relatively common in children—she could spare a moment before going to her.
Before her departure, she made sure her medical backpack contained everything the Sennin included on the list. Gloves, bandages, first-aid, scissors, antidotes, antibiotics, painkillers, gauze, and a small laundry list of other miscellaneous tools that served as significant precautions; especially in the case of treating more people than just the two listed. As she could readily see around her, more than just these listed individuals were in need of aid that they otherwise would be incapable of receiving. Needless to say, her first stop brought her before the small, ramshackle household of Itsuki.
Knocking on the weathered door, she awaited an answer. It took half a minute, but she received a slowly articulated answer. “Who is it?” A quiet voice, seasoned as the architecture, replied. Steeling her nerves, given she had yet to be acclimated to these situations, she spoke in the clearest voice she could muster. “Uchiha Masami. I’m here to perform the scheduled medical checkup—as always, money isn’t a concern.” After all, the entire intrinsic point of this was to provide required aid to those truly in need.
Somewhere behind the door, if her senses weren’t playing tricks on her, the young woman heard words along the lines of, “An Uchiha, I see...” Masami decided not to think too much of it. Soft footfalls approached the door—unsteady and accompanied by the recurring dull thud of an inanimate object. The rickety door creaked open, barely on its hinges, revealing the form of a hunched, elderly man. The noise accompanying his footsteps could be attributed to the wooden cane his shaky hand grasped ahold of. From the wrinkled skin to the residual, wispy plumes of white hair remaining atop his head, she was positive this was one of the individuals she was assigned to treat. He certainly matched the provided description, and location, after all.
“May I come in?” Masami asked, and received a subtle nod from the smiling senior. Ushered inside, she looked around for a place to park her medical backpack. “Oh, anywhere’s fine. Make yourself at home...” With permission acquired, she migrated towards the same area he presumably moved back to. A proper elevated seating within the tatami room for him, eyes closed, lips still perpetuating his vacant smile.
Rummaging through her belongings as she claimed a seat of her own, she decided to fill the eerily quiet air with chitchat. “It’s nice to meet you, Itsuki-san. Aside from the old wound, has anything else been the matter lately?” Outside of their various methods of practiced diagnostics, simply asking the patient was a good way to get a lead on any other conditions. Masami took note of the fact the abode was, aside from Itsuki, oddly vacant; it seemed unwise, if he had any family remaining, to leave him unsupervised in this state. However, given this was Crater City, he may not be at liberty to receive such aid all the time. “Also, I hope you don’t mind if I get a little close, I’d like to check a few things,” she continued, pulling on a sterile pair of gloves.
“No, not at all. And go ahead...” The senior answered, lips still woven in a smile. Approaching, she pressed a finger under his neck to check his pulse, as ordered. The BPM was as average as it could be for someone his age, according to her calculations, which was a good sign. Maximum exertion would have been around one hundred thirty, and it was nowhere near that at resting; good. “All good in that department. Let’s see about that old wound.”
Going through her mental checklist and the motions, she carefully peeled back the bandages to check on the injury. A messier laceration, not as clean as what she treated before, but already in the healing process. It was healing well from her initial assessment—already disinfected prior and handled accordingly. No signs of festering or discolouration, probably courtesy of past visits from Konoha; if he was younger, he probably would have healed it a lot sooner. With that in mind, it would be prudent for her to cater to that healing process, and change the bandages. Unravelling the old, she went through a just-in-case disinfection process again, and redressed the wound; using the advice she received from the Sennin on her initial transfer in terms of her distribution of bandage.
“You’re a very kind girl, aren’t you, dear?” Slowly, her attention gravitated towards the elderly man. She noticed an unorthodox detail—he never opened his eyes once. Masami couldn’t place it, but she harboured a subtle inquisitive feeling about the household. “It’s nothing, really—I’m just doing what I can.” The Uchiha didn’t know where modesty would get her, but she did it anyway.
“This is a refill of antibiotics,” Masami, unwilling to pry deeply into this man’s history and life out of courtesy, resumed her duties. Withdrawing the prescription in particular, she produced a bottle of antibiotics. After informing him of the specific instructions on the label, since it was unclear if he could read it, she proceeded to start with the first dosage for the day. In preparation for the literal worst case scenarios, she brought her own clean water for him to take the prescription with. After she confirmed he’d taken it, she went through the motions of a simple, quick general check up—and thankfully, hadn’t gleaned any horrific symptoms that normally wouldn’t be attributed to a ninety-year-old man.
“Again, it was nice to meet you, Itsuki-san. I’ll be in the area for a few days, so, I’ll be back to check in again later,” Masami bid her farewell at the entrance of the lonely home, bowing politely in response. A small wave from the elderly man later, whose enigma seemed unrivaled to her at the moment, and she shut the door behind her as she proceeded out. Now, her task concerned the little girl named Aiko—who wasn’t too far away from the household she just visited. Bringing her belongings and medical backpack with her, she headed for her next destination.
Not by a significant margin, but this home looked slightly less beaten up than the last one. Knocking on the door, this time she was met with an immediate response. Rather than the little girl, a middle-aged woman answered the door. While she looked like she smiled through her struggles; signs of stress prevalent on her face. “Hi, I—“ Before Masami could articulate another word, she was already being ushered inside of the home.
“You’re the help from Konoha, right? Please, come in!” The woman said, closing the door behind them. The brunette parted her lips to speak, taken aback and slowly piecing together her bearings as well as her words. "Yes... I’m Uchiha Masami. I’m here to provide medical aid for Aiko. Is she your daughter?” Masami might have heard something along those lines. While guiding her into a bedroom, the mother spoke. “Oh, can you see the resemblance? Yes. I’ve had my hands so full, but there’s barely anyone around willing to sell affordable medication. Can you help her?”
Masami nodded in response, her gaze gravitating towards the bedridden girl. For an eight year old, who tended to be explosive bundles of energy, it must have been agonizing to be temporarily deprived of the use of her leg. “Are you the doctor?” Asked the child, voice filled with curiosity, but vaguely haggard. For being that young, she certainly seemed tenacious—Masami had no idea when her last dosage of painkillers may have run out. If it was long, then she should take the first dose sooner than later. “Of course, I’m here to help. Ah, when was the last time she took medication? And, what happened?”
The Uchiha felt it was a careful decision to get a better read on the situation. An exasperated sigh escaped the woman next to her. “She was trying to prove something to the other children, ended up falling down while climbing half-way up one of the neighbour’s houses. She’s lucky she wasn’t too high up...” Evidently it was enough to result in a broken leg, but nothing more. There was a silver lining, at the very least. With more to go on, Masami went through the process of foremost providing the first painkiller dosage for the day, after pulling on a new pair of sterile gloves. More gelatinous capsules that would be easier for a child to take without trouble with some water. Again, as she did with Itsuki, she went through a general assessment of her, and found that there were no other issues aside from the broken leg. “Did she walk since?”
“I want to! It sucks in here!” Came the immediate response from the girl. The mother simply shook her head in resignation. “She hasn’t. If anything, I’ve made sure to keep an eye on her, to ensure that she doesn’t try to sneak out. Aiko-chan is a tenacious child, a little too much for her own good!” Understanding the plight on both ends, Masami nodded in response. “Hey, don’t worry. The less you walk on it, the quicker you’ll be walking without it hurting again,” the Uchiha added, to the acceptance of the girl ten years her junior.
Being a young adult herself now, she spent a good amount of time working on her overall charisma with these situations; it was part of being in her branch, or at least a useful asset in it. Masami fulfilled her criteria there, and as the directions told her, casted for another two weeks. Moreover, the Uchiha was able to ascertain that it was more than likely a greenstick fracture—as mentioned prior, not uncommon for children. “Two weeks isn’t much, you know? See, I was right,” she continued a few minutes later, going over the details in her head. “I’ll be around for a couple more days, so I’ll be free to check in. Two pills a day is all, one in the morning and one before bed. This refill should last the remainder of the casting, so don’t fret.”
Aiko’s mother looked relieved with the outcome, especially since she usually would be incapable of affording it. “You’re truly a gift to us right now, thank you. What do we say, Aiko-chan?” Shifting her attention towards her daughter, the young one chirped her addition. “Oh yeah... Thank you!” Lips curled into a small smile of her own devise, Masami bowed once more, and again took her leave from the household.
Masami would be back over the day or so to check in on Itsuki and Aiko both, but since she hadn’t much else to do during her stay in Crater City, she decided to seek out and help more of the impoverished denizens. From going through wound treatment protocol to other simple diagnostics, she worked overtime. Aiko’s mother was nice enough to lend her a spare room to crash at for the night, where Masami would ultimately pack her things thereafter and head all the way back home.
--
[WC: 2153/700]
Arriving at the site in the morning, the Uchiha traversed that route while she drank in the scenery around her. Being an artist, she always was insistent on memorizing her surroundings and different scenes to paint them later. Even on a surface level, she could tell Crater City was as much of an impoverished depression as it was made out to be; not every work of art needed to exhibit happy characteristics. Perhaps she would weave feelings of lingering anguish within the work, but symbolize the waking remnants of hope that still burned. While she was uncertain how she would convey it at the time, she was sure a good idea would come to her, and her uncle would praise her for her depiction.
Thankfully, the two individuals she was assigned to help lived relatively close to one another. Not only did she conclude it would be best to make the briefest stop first, but she chose to visit the individual who held the highest potential of infection; hence why Nao had her prescribe antibiotics and painkillers to him. At ninety-years-old, should he suffer a serious infection from the wound he suffered, then it could prove fatal. The other patient, as she wasn’t provided antibiotics to prescribe to her, she wagered did not sport a break that ran the risk of infection. In fact, certain fractures were relatively common in children—she could spare a moment before going to her.
Before her departure, she made sure her medical backpack contained everything the Sennin included on the list. Gloves, bandages, first-aid, scissors, antidotes, antibiotics, painkillers, gauze, and a small laundry list of other miscellaneous tools that served as significant precautions; especially in the case of treating more people than just the two listed. As she could readily see around her, more than just these listed individuals were in need of aid that they otherwise would be incapable of receiving. Needless to say, her first stop brought her before the small, ramshackle household of Itsuki.
Knocking on the weathered door, she awaited an answer. It took half a minute, but she received a slowly articulated answer. “Who is it?” A quiet voice, seasoned as the architecture, replied. Steeling her nerves, given she had yet to be acclimated to these situations, she spoke in the clearest voice she could muster. “Uchiha Masami. I’m here to perform the scheduled medical checkup—as always, money isn’t a concern.” After all, the entire intrinsic point of this was to provide required aid to those truly in need.
Somewhere behind the door, if her senses weren’t playing tricks on her, the young woman heard words along the lines of, “An Uchiha, I see...” Masami decided not to think too much of it. Soft footfalls approached the door—unsteady and accompanied by the recurring dull thud of an inanimate object. The rickety door creaked open, barely on its hinges, revealing the form of a hunched, elderly man. The noise accompanying his footsteps could be attributed to the wooden cane his shaky hand grasped ahold of. From the wrinkled skin to the residual, wispy plumes of white hair remaining atop his head, she was positive this was one of the individuals she was assigned to treat. He certainly matched the provided description, and location, after all.
“May I come in?” Masami asked, and received a subtle nod from the smiling senior. Ushered inside, she looked around for a place to park her medical backpack. “Oh, anywhere’s fine. Make yourself at home...” With permission acquired, she migrated towards the same area he presumably moved back to. A proper elevated seating within the tatami room for him, eyes closed, lips still perpetuating his vacant smile.
Rummaging through her belongings as she claimed a seat of her own, she decided to fill the eerily quiet air with chitchat. “It’s nice to meet you, Itsuki-san. Aside from the old wound, has anything else been the matter lately?” Outside of their various methods of practiced diagnostics, simply asking the patient was a good way to get a lead on any other conditions. Masami took note of the fact the abode was, aside from Itsuki, oddly vacant; it seemed unwise, if he had any family remaining, to leave him unsupervised in this state. However, given this was Crater City, he may not be at liberty to receive such aid all the time. “Also, I hope you don’t mind if I get a little close, I’d like to check a few things,” she continued, pulling on a sterile pair of gloves.
“No, not at all. And go ahead...” The senior answered, lips still woven in a smile. Approaching, she pressed a finger under his neck to check his pulse, as ordered. The BPM was as average as it could be for someone his age, according to her calculations, which was a good sign. Maximum exertion would have been around one hundred thirty, and it was nowhere near that at resting; good. “All good in that department. Let’s see about that old wound.”
Going through her mental checklist and the motions, she carefully peeled back the bandages to check on the injury. A messier laceration, not as clean as what she treated before, but already in the healing process. It was healing well from her initial assessment—already disinfected prior and handled accordingly. No signs of festering or discolouration, probably courtesy of past visits from Konoha; if he was younger, he probably would have healed it a lot sooner. With that in mind, it would be prudent for her to cater to that healing process, and change the bandages. Unravelling the old, she went through a just-in-case disinfection process again, and redressed the wound; using the advice she received from the Sennin on her initial transfer in terms of her distribution of bandage.
“You’re a very kind girl, aren’t you, dear?” Slowly, her attention gravitated towards the elderly man. She noticed an unorthodox detail—he never opened his eyes once. Masami couldn’t place it, but she harboured a subtle inquisitive feeling about the household. “It’s nothing, really—I’m just doing what I can.” The Uchiha didn’t know where modesty would get her, but she did it anyway.
“This is a refill of antibiotics,” Masami, unwilling to pry deeply into this man’s history and life out of courtesy, resumed her duties. Withdrawing the prescription in particular, she produced a bottle of antibiotics. After informing him of the specific instructions on the label, since it was unclear if he could read it, she proceeded to start with the first dosage for the day. In preparation for the literal worst case scenarios, she brought her own clean water for him to take the prescription with. After she confirmed he’d taken it, she went through the motions of a simple, quick general check up—and thankfully, hadn’t gleaned any horrific symptoms that normally wouldn’t be attributed to a ninety-year-old man.
“Again, it was nice to meet you, Itsuki-san. I’ll be in the area for a few days, so, I’ll be back to check in again later,” Masami bid her farewell at the entrance of the lonely home, bowing politely in response. A small wave from the elderly man later, whose enigma seemed unrivaled to her at the moment, and she shut the door behind her as she proceeded out. Now, her task concerned the little girl named Aiko—who wasn’t too far away from the household she just visited. Bringing her belongings and medical backpack with her, she headed for her next destination.
Not by a significant margin, but this home looked slightly less beaten up than the last one. Knocking on the door, this time she was met with an immediate response. Rather than the little girl, a middle-aged woman answered the door. While she looked like she smiled through her struggles; signs of stress prevalent on her face. “Hi, I—“ Before Masami could articulate another word, she was already being ushered inside of the home.
“You’re the help from Konoha, right? Please, come in!” The woman said, closing the door behind them. The brunette parted her lips to speak, taken aback and slowly piecing together her bearings as well as her words. "Yes... I’m Uchiha Masami. I’m here to provide medical aid for Aiko. Is she your daughter?” Masami might have heard something along those lines. While guiding her into a bedroom, the mother spoke. “Oh, can you see the resemblance? Yes. I’ve had my hands so full, but there’s barely anyone around willing to sell affordable medication. Can you help her?”
Masami nodded in response, her gaze gravitating towards the bedridden girl. For an eight year old, who tended to be explosive bundles of energy, it must have been agonizing to be temporarily deprived of the use of her leg. “Are you the doctor?” Asked the child, voice filled with curiosity, but vaguely haggard. For being that young, she certainly seemed tenacious—Masami had no idea when her last dosage of painkillers may have run out. If it was long, then she should take the first dose sooner than later. “Of course, I’m here to help. Ah, when was the last time she took medication? And, what happened?”
The Uchiha felt it was a careful decision to get a better read on the situation. An exasperated sigh escaped the woman next to her. “She was trying to prove something to the other children, ended up falling down while climbing half-way up one of the neighbour’s houses. She’s lucky she wasn’t too high up...” Evidently it was enough to result in a broken leg, but nothing more. There was a silver lining, at the very least. With more to go on, Masami went through the process of foremost providing the first painkiller dosage for the day, after pulling on a new pair of sterile gloves. More gelatinous capsules that would be easier for a child to take without trouble with some water. Again, as she did with Itsuki, she went through a general assessment of her, and found that there were no other issues aside from the broken leg. “Did she walk since?”
“I want to! It sucks in here!” Came the immediate response from the girl. The mother simply shook her head in resignation. “She hasn’t. If anything, I’ve made sure to keep an eye on her, to ensure that she doesn’t try to sneak out. Aiko-chan is a tenacious child, a little too much for her own good!” Understanding the plight on both ends, Masami nodded in response. “Hey, don’t worry. The less you walk on it, the quicker you’ll be walking without it hurting again,” the Uchiha added, to the acceptance of the girl ten years her junior.
Being a young adult herself now, she spent a good amount of time working on her overall charisma with these situations; it was part of being in her branch, or at least a useful asset in it. Masami fulfilled her criteria there, and as the directions told her, casted for another two weeks. Moreover, the Uchiha was able to ascertain that it was more than likely a greenstick fracture—as mentioned prior, not uncommon for children. “Two weeks isn’t much, you know? See, I was right,” she continued a few minutes later, going over the details in her head. “I’ll be around for a couple more days, so I’ll be free to check in. Two pills a day is all, one in the morning and one before bed. This refill should last the remainder of the casting, so don’t fret.”
Aiko’s mother looked relieved with the outcome, especially since she usually would be incapable of affording it. “You’re truly a gift to us right now, thank you. What do we say, Aiko-chan?” Shifting her attention towards her daughter, the young one chirped her addition. “Oh yeah... Thank you!” Lips curled into a small smile of her own devise, Masami bowed once more, and again took her leave from the household.
Masami would be back over the day or so to check in on Itsuki and Aiko both, but since she hadn’t much else to do during her stay in Crater City, she decided to seek out and help more of the impoverished denizens. From going through wound treatment protocol to other simple diagnostics, she worked overtime. Aiko’s mother was nice enough to lend her a spare room to crash at for the night, where Masami would ultimately pack her things thereafter and head all the way back home.
--
[WC: 2153/700]