50scenes, Prompt #013 -- White
Took a while again. I think I need a change of pace on these things. In other words, I need to write some action-oriented pieces. I really miss those. Though I do quite like the idea behind this one, I must admit.
Title: Proof of Ability
Author: flowingmists
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Unohana
Prompt: #013 - White
Word Count: 1,053
Rating: PG
Summary: She had disdained the haori for so long; it felt strange to wear it now.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.
Proof of Ability
The extra weight on her shoulders was uncomfortable, though physically insignificant. Mostly, it was the unfamiliarity of it all that bothered her; in the two centuries since Retsu had been named a captain, she had only worn the haori to official meetings. Never in her day to day work.
She had just returned from such a meeting, and while she normally made a quick stop at her office in order to ditch the extra garment, she decided to keep it on this time. It seemed to make her passage through the hospital's halls all the quicker. A fact that she both appreciated and hated simultaneously.
Several feet up ahead, two members of her division were being hassled by a pair of smug and irate walking wounded. While Retsu strove not to be judgmental in regards to a shinigami's assignment, she imagined that these two were from the Eleventh Division. They had the greatest propensity toward such behaviour.
Normally, she would have stopped and said a few words to diffuse the confrontation. But today, she simply breezed past them, flicking her haori lightly to assure that all present caught the flash of white. Behind her, the two bullies began hastily stammering apologies to their targets while hurrying as quickly as possible in the opposite direction.
Retsu sighed. This was exactly why she hated wearing the haori; it vaulted her above all others in her presence, as though she were someone to be revered, and hardly a person in her own right. Flaunting authority was a terrible thing, and she wanted no part of it. Consequently, few who entered the hospital from other divisions recognized her as the captain. And that was fine by her. She was here to help people, not stand above them.
Quietly, she entered a room in the intensive care wing to check on a patient she'd been having particular concern about. The girl, Fukui Seiko, rested in bed, motionless save for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her head was tilted in the other direction, making it difficult to tell whether or not she was conscious, and her injured arm, swathed in bandages, lay above the blanket.
Retsu remembered when Fukui had been brought in, that same arm gushing blood and only scarcely still attached to the rest of her body. Had she arrived only a few minutes later, she might have bled to death. As it was, Retsu had managed to save both her life and her arm, but her consciousness had been intermittent and brief.
"I guess it's time for more treatment, isn't it?"
Retsu blinked, then smiled. "Your perceptions certainly have not been damaged; you are quite correct." She took a few steps until she was at Fukui's bedside. "I am glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"
"As well as can be expected," Fukui bit off, still not having turned her head. There was more than a hint of bitterness in her tone, putting some lie to her words. "I wish I could say that it hurts like hell, but . . . I really can't feel anything."
Retsu didn't allow the smile to leave her face. Even though the girl wasn't looking at her, she had always felt it best to show a positive outlook for the sake of a patient's well being. Carefully, she lifted the arm and began unwrapping the bandages. "Quite understandable. After a near severing, nerves are severely damaged and prevent any sensation from getting through. Now that I've made certain you're able to keep the arm, I will do my best to restore your nerves to their proper function."
Fukui's only response was a noncommittal grunt.
Well, Retsu reflected as she probed the arm for nerve endings, she couldn't really blame the girl. Not every healer was able to perform this kind of work; it required a kind of precision and delicacy that was uncommon to find. And in this case, there was quite a bit that was in need of repair. The process was slow, and would likely require a few sessions before it was complete. Perhaps she could restore some of Fukui's faith in the meantime.
"I'm about to start treatment. Let me know if you begin to feel anything."
She didn't wait for a reply before she set to work, figuring that she was unlikely to get one. For several minutes, she focused on one tiny area after another, systematically reconnecting inner pathways bit by bit. Her forced smile became genuine when Fukui suddenly flinched at her touch.
"I suppose I can take that as a positive response," Retsu said lightly.
For the first time, Fukui turned her head, clear grey eyes open with astonishment as she stared down at her arm. Then she shifted her gaze upward. "It's really . . . You . . ." She blinked.
Retsu tilted her head in confusion. "What is it, Fukui-san?"
Fukui seemed at a loss for a moment, but eventually composed herself. "You're the captain. I remember you treating me earlier, but I don't recall seeing the haori. I'm sorry for being so skeptical of your ability, then."
"Anyone would be skeptical about a wound like the one you'd received. I did not take it as an insult." Retsu folded her hands in front of her. "And I am not much in the habit of wearing the haori save at official functions."
At this, Fukui actually laughed, her bitter demeanour vanishing entirely. "Well, I'm still sorry, regardless. And if you're open to suggestions, I think you might want to start wearing that all the time. Lets people know they're in capable hands."
Involuntarily, Retsu blinked. How could she have never considered this angle? The white haori was a symbol of her skill as a healer. Knowing what her abilities were would soothe her patients, calm their fears. And all this time, she had looked at it only as a symbol of authority. How foolish.
"I think I just may do that," she answered at last. She reached out to Fukui's arm again. "Are you ready for more?"
Fukui lifted her other arm in a salute, a playful smirk crossing her lips. "Yes, Unohana-taichou!"
And as Retsu returned to her work, she couldn't help but find that her haori didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.
Title: Proof of Ability
Author: flowingmists
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Unohana
Prompt: #013 - White
Word Count: 1,053
Rating: PG
Summary: She had disdained the haori for so long; it felt strange to wear it now.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.
Proof of Ability
The extra weight on her shoulders was uncomfortable, though physically insignificant. Mostly, it was the unfamiliarity of it all that bothered her; in the two centuries since Retsu had been named a captain, she had only worn the haori to official meetings. Never in her day to day work.
She had just returned from such a meeting, and while she normally made a quick stop at her office in order to ditch the extra garment, she decided to keep it on this time. It seemed to make her passage through the hospital's halls all the quicker. A fact that she both appreciated and hated simultaneously.
Several feet up ahead, two members of her division were being hassled by a pair of smug and irate walking wounded. While Retsu strove not to be judgmental in regards to a shinigami's assignment, she imagined that these two were from the Eleventh Division. They had the greatest propensity toward such behaviour.
Normally, she would have stopped and said a few words to diffuse the confrontation. But today, she simply breezed past them, flicking her haori lightly to assure that all present caught the flash of white. Behind her, the two bullies began hastily stammering apologies to their targets while hurrying as quickly as possible in the opposite direction.
Retsu sighed. This was exactly why she hated wearing the haori; it vaulted her above all others in her presence, as though she were someone to be revered, and hardly a person in her own right. Flaunting authority was a terrible thing, and she wanted no part of it. Consequently, few who entered the hospital from other divisions recognized her as the captain. And that was fine by her. She was here to help people, not stand above them.
Quietly, she entered a room in the intensive care wing to check on a patient she'd been having particular concern about. The girl, Fukui Seiko, rested in bed, motionless save for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her head was tilted in the other direction, making it difficult to tell whether or not she was conscious, and her injured arm, swathed in bandages, lay above the blanket.
Retsu remembered when Fukui had been brought in, that same arm gushing blood and only scarcely still attached to the rest of her body. Had she arrived only a few minutes later, she might have bled to death. As it was, Retsu had managed to save both her life and her arm, but her consciousness had been intermittent and brief.
"I guess it's time for more treatment, isn't it?"
Retsu blinked, then smiled. "Your perceptions certainly have not been damaged; you are quite correct." She took a few steps until she was at Fukui's bedside. "I am glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"
"As well as can be expected," Fukui bit off, still not having turned her head. There was more than a hint of bitterness in her tone, putting some lie to her words. "I wish I could say that it hurts like hell, but . . . I really can't feel anything."
Retsu didn't allow the smile to leave her face. Even though the girl wasn't looking at her, she had always felt it best to show a positive outlook for the sake of a patient's well being. Carefully, she lifted the arm and began unwrapping the bandages. "Quite understandable. After a near severing, nerves are severely damaged and prevent any sensation from getting through. Now that I've made certain you're able to keep the arm, I will do my best to restore your nerves to their proper function."
Fukui's only response was a noncommittal grunt.
Well, Retsu reflected as she probed the arm for nerve endings, she couldn't really blame the girl. Not every healer was able to perform this kind of work; it required a kind of precision and delicacy that was uncommon to find. And in this case, there was quite a bit that was in need of repair. The process was slow, and would likely require a few sessions before it was complete. Perhaps she could restore some of Fukui's faith in the meantime.
"I'm about to start treatment. Let me know if you begin to feel anything."
She didn't wait for a reply before she set to work, figuring that she was unlikely to get one. For several minutes, she focused on one tiny area after another, systematically reconnecting inner pathways bit by bit. Her forced smile became genuine when Fukui suddenly flinched at her touch.
"I suppose I can take that as a positive response," Retsu said lightly.
For the first time, Fukui turned her head, clear grey eyes open with astonishment as she stared down at her arm. Then she shifted her gaze upward. "It's really . . . You . . ." She blinked.
Retsu tilted her head in confusion. "What is it, Fukui-san?"
Fukui seemed at a loss for a moment, but eventually composed herself. "You're the captain. I remember you treating me earlier, but I don't recall seeing the haori. I'm sorry for being so skeptical of your ability, then."
"Anyone would be skeptical about a wound like the one you'd received. I did not take it as an insult." Retsu folded her hands in front of her. "And I am not much in the habit of wearing the haori save at official functions."
At this, Fukui actually laughed, her bitter demeanour vanishing entirely. "Well, I'm still sorry, regardless. And if you're open to suggestions, I think you might want to start wearing that all the time. Lets people know they're in capable hands."
Involuntarily, Retsu blinked. How could she have never considered this angle? The white haori was a symbol of her skill as a healer. Knowing what her abilities were would soothe her patients, calm their fears. And all this time, she had looked at it only as a symbol of authority. How foolish.
"I think I just may do that," she answered at last. She reached out to Fukui's arm again. "Are you ready for more?"
Fukui lifted her other arm in a salute, a playful smirk crossing her lips. "Yes, Unohana-taichou!"
And as Retsu returned to her work, she couldn't help but find that her haori didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.