Miranda's Note: Wow it's been so long. So here's the anticipated sequel to Intrigue. Honestly I don't know what took the writing process this long. I think it was just me being lazy. I'm really really sorry to everyone who I've kept waiting huhu. I've been so busy with life that I've lost touch with fanfic writing for a while, but I think it's one of those things that I could never completely let go. While I was away I've been writing prompts and making drafts, so hopefully, I would be able to update again soon. Expect more one-shots about Intrigue-verse itasaku
The Doctor Knows Best
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Growing up, Itachi had been frequented by medics. He would often come down with sever bouts of respiratory illnesses, which worried Mikoto greatly. Playing the role of an overprotective mother, she would immediately call on the best available medic to relieve her baby boy of his discomfort. He never told her, but could still vividly recall the pain of asphyxiation, and the tightening of his windpipe at the young age of three. By then he deduced that communicating his discomfort to his mother in detail would only send her into a fright. Nobody liked his mother in a fright, and so he kept his silence. Whenever the medic would arrive he would just follow instructions and follow the strict nutritional plan that the medic would advise.
As he pondered about his current status, whilst he was forced to lay on his futon to recover, he realized the detrements of disorders: his opportunities and liberties were restricted by a large extent. This was proven true when he was all-together restricted by his mother to have sweets for years, claiming that it causes mucus build up and a sore throat which was prone to bacteria and would cause him to befall those unfavorable circumstances once again. Although he knew of his mother's assumptive conclusions, he went along with the routine she built up for him, concluding that compliance would be the best course of action at such a crucial point. His mother acknowledged his superior mental capabilities, but when it comes to situations where she was overwhelmed by her emotions and her overprotectiveness (i.e. when he's sick) she neglects to listen to the voice of reason, hence his silence.
The feeling of being vulnerable irked him to no end and with determination, he worked hard to fortify his immunity with the trainings that he underwent. Ultimately, the bouts of sicknesses came with greater intervals every year and less severity.
Two significant things had stemmed from that certain phase of his childhood; first was his adoration for sweets and second was his aborhence to disease. The latter led him to avoidance of hospitals as much as possible. It was a difficult task, considering the lethal nature of his profession, but somehow, by what his mother would call "luck from the heavens", he managed to make it thru missions barely scathed.
He would find amusement in the idea of his mother's superstition, but would ponder towards it. Even rationally speaking, his mother's belief system was as valid a claim as anyone's, since there is no way to ever prove or disprove it.
He walked towards the hospital, all the while enjoying the luxury of recollection. It was one of his rare days off, and he decided to visit the hospital for Haruno-san's prescribed check-up. Recalling his childhood convinced him to drop by her office as often as he can. The prospect of his eye-sight deteriorating further was not pleasing to him at the slightest. If he were to continue postponing his check-ups, he would allow himself to fall back to illness which he worked hard to to avoid.
He was secretly eased with the knowledge that it would be Haruno-san, the highly professional head medic, would treat him. Although it was a pleasant choice, he refused to acknowledge it as the cause of his desire to visit the hospital but rather he would classify her as a benefit. The driving force would be his desire to be in top shape and the benefit was the security and pleasantness of his chosen medic.
When he reached the hospital, the scent of peroxide was the first thing that he noted. Second was the bright, sunny ambiance and lastly the few people scurrying around the receiving area. The ambiance of the hospital was as nice as the day outside was. Even the number of people who are ailing are few, he noted. Albeit the lightness of the atmosphere was due to pleasant coincidences, he was not complaining. Another reason he was more incentivized to enjoy his day off. Chances aligned properly on his day off, making it all the more relaxing, and he was going to milk it for what it's worth.
"Good morning Uchiha-san. How may I help you?"
He was greeted by the receptionist, a middle-aged looking woman who had a motherly aura eminating from her.
"I'm here for an appointment with Haruno-san."
"Kindly proceed to examining room 215. The elevator's just right down the hall."
He nodded in thanks and proceeded to the designated room with a lightness to his steps.
"Say ah."
Sakura instructed, as she placed the examining stick on the young boy's tongue and using her medical instrument to examine his tonsils for any swelling.
Mondays were her clinic days. Despite being a poison and surgery specialist at Konoha General Hospital, Sakura still took the effort to make time and examine the ailing patients, taking up the role of a physician. Undertaking meaningful hospital work which didn't require any obscene amounts of blood and traumatizing situations was always a moodlifter for her and since the hospital was understaffed, Sakura believes that it is her moral obligation to compensate.
Ever since Tsunade stepped down as the head of the hospital, Sakura was chosen to take her place. Her mentor reasoned out that she had her plate full, with training the next Hokage and running the village's new system. Sakura understood, watching the torturous work she undergoes day in and day out, and she was willing to help lighten her load the best she can but despite her intentions, and not to mention her status as the Hokage's prodige, at par with her mentor's medical skills, she would still wake up some mornings skeptical about herself. This was especially true on mornings after she'd lost a patient. Those inopportune events, made her feel like genin again. It brought her back to the times when all she did was watch as Sasuke and Naruto engaged the enemy. The feeling of helplessness would claw at her relentlessly.
"Well Daisuke, it looks like you have a bad case of the sore throat along with a cold."
As Sakura picked up her clipboard and jotted down the prescription, the five year old looked at her with watery eyes, knowing the significance of that diagnosis; it meant no more sweets for him. Daisuke looked at his mom for any sign of assurance that what the pink haired medic said was not true, but the comfort he found reflected in her midnight blue eyes told him otherwise.
Sakura bent down to be at an eye level with the little boy, looking defenceless on her examining table.
"Well, you know what this means don't you?"
He hung his head and pouted, making Sakura hold back a squeal of delight at the adorableness of the child in front of her. She's always had a thing for children.
"No sweets for you in the next few days, okay? Or else you're throat will swell up even more."
He looked at her with watery puppy dog eyes.
"Don't worry little guy. If you drink your medication along with lots of water, it'll heal faster."
It brought the glimmer back in the little boys eyes and Sakura broke out in a squeal and pinched his chubby cheeks. Daisuke's mother smiled at the sight of the adorable medic.
"Give him a tablespoon of these every eight hours, and give him lots of fluids."
"Thank you Haruno-san. He's been difficult these past few days, refusing to relinquish all his candy. I swear that child has a really big sweet tooth."
"It's my pleasure Hanabiki-san. Just keep everything out of his reach until he gets better."
Daisuke jumped down from the examining table and bid the doctor goodbye.
Sakura smiled as she watched the child practically giddy at the news that he was soon about to feel better and the sweet fuss his mother was making to ensure that he was looking where he was going. The children she heals always manage to brighten up her days.
Settling behind her desk, Sakura had just begun to update Daisuke's file when a light tap at her door alerted her to another incoming patient.
"Please come in." She said without looking up from her paperwork.
The light footsteps registered in her ears along with the light scent of rainwater underlined by a subtle musk, which would be undetectable to a mere civilian by-passer or even ninjas to some extent. She her head in just as the visitor seated himself on one of the chairs in front of her desk.
"Hello Uchiha-san. I wasn't expecting you to visit me until next month."
Typically, Uchiha would be stubborn men, she thought. Her frequent interactions with Sasuke proved difficult whenever they were attempting to settle issues on which they had different opinions on, such as Ino's choice of clothing or sweets. The only two things that they seem to agree upon were that Naruto could be the biggest knuckle-head in Konoha without trying and that Kakashi was better off keeping his mouth shut than repeating the same excuses for his tardiness over and over again. It had crossed her mind that this might just be a hasty generalization since Sasuke was the only Uchiha she would frequently encounter but the oozing confidence from Itachi whenever he would grace her presence told her otherwise.
"Let me just finish updating this patient file and I'll get right to you." She continued, unfazed by his lack of response.
A few more delicate movements of her pen thru the parchment and she was done. After putting the file back in its place among her cabinet she proceeded to pick up another one, which Itachi surely knew was his.
"Before I start examining your eye problem, could I possibly ask for your medical history Uchiha-san? I've just recently been able to update your file, but only with the scarce information we have here at the hospital."
"It's fine."
"Alright. What were your previous ailments in the past?"
"As a child, I was frequented by severe bouts of asphyxiation."
"How often would these attacks happen?"
"Three to four times a year."
"Do they still occur occassionally?"
"They stopped when I turned five."
She scribbled it all down in his file while and turned to look at him again.
"Is there anything else aside from that?"
"No."
"Alrighty then. Let's start. Kindly lie fown on the examining table."
Itachi did as he was instructed and Sakura stood up from her chair to follow him.
"Before I check out your eyes, I'm just going to probe your lungs with chakra so I can examine them for myself."
As the head medic, Sakura had always followed this procedure, as she deemed it necessary to ensure that every shinobi that was sent back to the field was in perfect condition. It was especially important that this sort of preliminary check-up to be done for shinobi of the highest caliber - such as the one in front of her - as that split second of tightness around their chests or mind-numbing pain from an untreated illness could cost them their lives. Granted she was no stranger to death, but as a medic she would want to keep such things to a bare minimum.
"Kindly remove your shirt Uchiha-san." She said in the most professional manner, making Itachi oblidge without a fuss.
Sakura was no stranger to the male anatomy - as a medic, she had been exposed to naked male body parts even at the earliest stages of her training - but she couldn't help but appreciate the lean, chiseled torso that lay before her. Itachi's phisique was among the finest she has ever seen, if not the finest: perfectly chiseled abs and pectorals with the most finely sculpted arms you could ever see on a man. Even though it is within her knowledge that he had been working all his life for that perfection, going on missions and training in his spare time, but it only served to heighten her appreciation.
Realizing she might have been staring for a second too long, Sakura proceeded to gather chakra at the tips of her fingers, all the while avoiding what she assumed was an amused pair of eyes.
"This might be uncomfortable at first." She said, her tone leveled and professional, as if she was not affected by his perfection at the slightest.
His train of thought was focus on the owner of those pair of hands; the flash of emotions which crossed her eyes when he removed his shirt. Her eyes gleamed with appreciation, a reaction he would commonly observe with the other women he interacts with, but merely for a split second before she shifted back to her professional side, her gaze unwavering and her hands ready.
Her touch was light on his chest, light enough to be modest but firm enough to be professional. He silently attributed it to the delicate smallness of her palms. Her chakra was light and soothing, its soft vibrations leaving a comfortable warmth thru every vein and artery it passed thru. The only sound in the room was the soft buzzing of her chakra.
"Your lungs are in good condition. So far nothing seems to be the matter." He observed her absent-minded manner of speaking, the relaxed slope of her shoulders. It was a verbalized observation rather than a declarative statement.
"You can put your shirt back on Uchiha-san." She said as she wrote her observations on her clipboard, not sparing him a glance.
"Kindly lay back down so we can check your eyes."
He closed his eyes and anticipated the feel of delicate fingers on his temples. Her chakra entered him in tiny threads with an initial piercing sensation which waned as he felt it probe deeper. He could feel her energy massaging his optic nerves, relieving some of the accumulated wear.
Despite his silence about the matter, his eyesight has been bothering him for some years now. Whenever he would turn off his sharingan, he would often be bothered by headaches and subpar vision. Despite how his situation grew graver with each mission, Itachi still had forgone seeking anyone's aid. The interludes between his high class missions were often spent in the silence of the manor - where he would often find himself in the clutches of slumber if not the tea room - or continuously training. He could not choose to forego one or the other because he deemed both a necessary part of his shinobi routine, choosing the immediate path to his peak condition instead of the arduous road to recovery.
He could feel his nerves being mended slowly, as if being sewn back together in the most delicate manner. After what he mentally calculated as an hour, Sakura slowly withdrew her chakra, its trails leaving a ghost of warmth in their wake.
"I've treated the more strained nerves first. It will greatly help lessen the headaches you've periodically been experiencing, as well as lessen the ever-present blur in your eyesight."
"Hn."
"As I said, it will take some time to completely heal all the accumulated damage, since there are a lot of these heavy blockages that are damaging your eyesight as we speak, so as much as possible, kindly drop by the hospital on your free time. I've already begun investing on healing your eyes and the least you could do is cooperate and show up at least once a month. Understood?"
Her tone was levelled and professional, her bright eyes staring directly into his, unfazed. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he attempted to placate her with a nod and afterwards he watched a flicker of what seemed like triumph dance in her eyes for a moment before disappearing.
The pink haired medic stood up from her seat beside his examining table and proceeded to write on her clipboard once again. Afterwards, she went out of the room and gestured him to follow her out the door, down the hall and into the ophthalmology lab. She gestured for him to sit on the stool as she disappeared thru the divider, emerging minutes later with what appeared like a pair of simple, black framed glasses.
"This will help with the headaches since I assume you're having some degree of difficulty reading small texts or seeing distant objects clearly without your sharingan on."
She handed them to him, the scent of cherry blossoms and spring mingling with the soft breeze that flitted inside the room.
"Just wear these and avoid using your sharingan unnecessarily or excessively. I expect you to be back in a month Uchiha-san." That was the last thing she said to him before walking out the door, her gait was that of a warrior who had emerged victorious in battle. He smirked to himself and silently looked forward to his next encounter with the pink-haired medic.
Miranda's Note: Reviews and intrigue-verse prompts would be highly appreciated. Thank you for reading and hopefully, you'll hear more from me again soon!