MIkasa withdraws her hands, digits trembling at the realization of the internal damage the youth suffers from, a pathetic creature awaiting for a curtain to fall. How one managed to go about their daily routine with the grim reaper gazing over there shoulder with frosted breath was beyond her fathoming. Leaning forward her lips brush against the forehead of the lass, caressing tenderly against the lightly moist flesh, "Not to worry my child, your path will not be obstructed and your ambitions unanswered."
gentle whispers linger within the air before the maiden pivots about to venture off to collect the tools required.
Prior to the excursion the curtains would glide along the suspended railing to provide privacy for the pair. The events of this day would never leave the room, to perform a life threatening operation normally not a task to undergo alone under any circumstances. Clapping her hands together, the sole leather glove resonates from the impact, a field of chakra projects outwards with Mikasa as the center, an emotional barrier and her natural abilities flourishing in this sort of environment. Within the realm she creates her medical techniques amplify, yet the strain on her on her body tugs and consumes far more than chakra.
Extending her digits outwards, she grasps against the invisible, not a single item is clutched, yet the shape her fingers adhere to tell of a different tale. Light as a feather Mikasa brushes her index and middle finger against the arm of the lass, Tranquilize
, far more potent and numbing her bodies senses of pain. The nail of the maiden indents into the flesh of Kou, mimicking the motions of a needle, her chakra flooding forward to cycle through her frame. Utilizing her opposing hand, the leather caresses against the midsection of the academy student, Coagulation
, of a grander order - Mikasa's chakra shimmers in a brilliant teal about the very air in the room.
Inhaling, droplets of perspiration glisten in the radiant rays, a feint humming can be heard from her left hand, a chakra scalpel ushering into existence. Cleaving the space above the upper layer of clothing, a clean split separates the fabric to expose the ivory flesh of the youngster. The Medical Sennin ruffles the left half, aiming an apologetic grin to unconscious youth for observing the delicate blossoming space and following suit with the right. "Let us both pray for your future, Stranger-chan."
murmurs, waltzing her exposed fingertips across the flesh they leave a line of crimson in their wake. The outer of flesh parting against the medical technique, rushing forward to greet her. "Crimson waters course through our veins and signify we are alive, yet you struggle to do so."
a painful expression surfaces on the woman's visage.
Bubbles of crimson spring upwards, collecting in a mass above the duo, wishing to return to hence where they came from, forsaking the outside world from which their master allows their residence. Arcing her wrist lower, the dermis, fat cells, blood vessels, muscle layer, and the reserve fat part to reveal the one item in which she seeks. A weak pulsating organ for all to view, trapped within a sack of flesh and in this moment her existence ease to snuff out as if a mere candle. "I pray you forgive me for trespassing on sacred grounds. It is difficult for me to sway from the younger generation and allow them to become nothing more than a seed without soil and water."
Mikasa murmurs continue to whisper to herself. Her chakra surges forward to embrace within, clinging and providing the bandage required - seeping through the even of most microscopic regions. "This will last longer than any, once my life ceases will this dissipate. Let us pray I have many years to give."
she comments with a wavering smile.
Withdrawing her hands, the sphere of crimson above screech towards the owner, the layers stringing together as if sowed. The realm she creates shrinks in size to the epicenter known as Mikasa. Turning about a blanket is tossed on the frame of the youth, only that of a thin line remains as the truth of their adventures; perhaps a scar for the remainder of Kou's years. Slinking off into the corner of the room her exhausted frame collides with a chair, platinum locks cling against drenched flesh as she leans her head back.