prologue[/color]"]An odd sounding knock broke the silence of the room, followed by a polite request to enter the room. Yorotsu pulled his eyes away from the printed pages, calling out to his guest in a tired and weak voice. "The door is open. Please, come in." As the door swung open, a man with a gruff face and pleasant sense of humor was revealed. The puppeteer liked that he cut straight to the chase, choosing not the deal with all the formalities. "Let's not be so quick to mark the time of death. I may be at death's door, but I won't go through the pearly gates without a hell of a fight." Yorotsu began to close the book which he still had open, then roughly slid it away from him. He kept his arms on the table, but they still shook and quivered every so often. Even when not doing anything, it was hard for the young man to control his movements. Despite this, his mind had lost none of its cunning or sharpness. As the Chuunin introduced himself, Yorotsu's red eyes would continue to regard his guest with interest and undivided attention. He smiled calmly while his guest spoke of his piqued curiosity and skill as a craftsman — perhaps this was his chance. Taking a breath before he spoke, Yorotsu seemed at peace with the situation. "The pleasure is mine, Senju Aoshi. I am Watanabe Yorotsu, and I imagine that you already understand the severity of my condition." The details would have been included in the emergency request for help that the hospital distributed. "Time is not on my side. This disease is terminal, I'm afraid. Two years, at maximum, is the estimate; though, it's possible that it could happen sooner. My body will soon be unable to move," Almost as if on queue, the young man's arm began to spasm slightly. The dying man weakly held the one arm down with his second, but the effort was futile and the appearance more pitiful than might be expected. A look of deep frustration and pain spread across his face as he continued, "and that's why I've called you here today."
The raven haired man sat back in his seat. He needed to get comfortable. "Are you familiar with the Human Puppet technique, Aoshi?" He'd waited to see how well informed his guest was. Though if he was worth his salt at all, he'd have come to this meeting knowing what they were here to do. "They say it's the only way. They say my body is going to be useless in a year, but will be well past the point of soul-crushingly useless in a few months. As if I wasn't already there, am I right?" The pain and fear was obvious in Yorotsu's eyes. This was a very scary thing to have to go through, knowing that your days were almost at an end. "And that's where you're supposed to come in. I want you to make me a new body — one that's going to last me a long time." Yorotsu's expression was very calm. It seemed he'd already thought this matter over quite significantly. Many people had told him before that either the ethics of such an operation were questionable, or they would otherwise try to convince him that doing this would be a mistake. Yorotsu, however, didn't seem to care about their warnings. He was all in on this idea, and was doing everything in his power to keep the momentum going on this plan. "Now, do you think you could do it?"