Hinata's feet were cold. The medical smock was making her torso overwarm. She had her arms crossed, hands tucked inside the folds of her elbows. Since the exam table faced the door, and the door had a mirror, there was plenty of opportunity to see all the ways the overhead fluorescent lights could warp her face. There were a few basic health-related posters on the walls.
There was no clock. She wanted to crack open the door and see if anyone was in the office still. It could have been five minutes or an hour. This was as normal as getting a check-up when she was a child, almost: waiting, the posters.
The office, however, was exclusively for ninja. There were two assistants, and three doctors. Her vitals were taken, and then she was instructed to put on the gown. It wasn't friendly or unfriendly. Just business.
Her assigned doctor, according to the woman who took her vitals, had been a black ops medic. She retired early to start this clinic for the needs of clans with bloodline abilities, to be taken care of discreetly, and had been running it for thirty years. The same assistant recounted it her first visit, too, and just as excitedly.
The woman herself entered. The door snapped open and shut like a trap. Her gray hair was cut in a bob and pinned behind her ears, and she held a clipboard. Hinata could not remember her name.
"So you're vomiting," she said. "Nauseous."
Hinata nodded.
"When did it start?"
"Um...five? Six days ago?"
She jotted something down with a black pen. "What happened?"
"I was making...lunch. I think."
The doctor made a noise. She continued to write.
"And then...I," she mumbled, "Threw up in the sink...and then...I, um, ran to the bathroom?"
"Does this happen every time you eat? Or with a specific food?"
"I...was making...um." She shrugged. "I think it was the cabbage."
She looked at Hinata intently. "Avoid cabbage, then. Food sensitivity is likely to last for the rest of the pregnancy. I can write a prescription."
Hinata shrugged.
"Given the bloodlines involved, I will need to examine your chakra every visit." Her hands lit up green. She pointed at Hinata's crossed arms until she uncrossed them. "Don't use byakugan."
The doctor's hands were warm. She had laid one palm against Hinata's belly, and then the other hand pressed sideways on her forehead. For a moment, she felt nothing. Then there was a tingling. And then, after a few seconds, the doctor pulled away and nodded once, said things were fine, and the appointment was over.
AN: life still a dumpster fire. i have a few more chapters after this in various stages of construction, so we'll see how it goes
hope you enjoyed
