Chapter Four: Avulsion
Tsubaki arrived late with a crate full of glassware, another crate of crossbows and ammunition, and an injured ninja bodyguard. Normally, the merchant came about once a month; she made one long trip to Wind Country and several shorter trips across the Land of Fire to sell her wares. Yui hadn't seen Tsubaki in over four months, however, and both she and Hatake looked exhausted and haggard. The ninja in particular had bruises and cuts littering his abdomen, though none were serious.
"I got you the supplies," said Tsubaki, her smile weak. Her normally colorful glass beads—free advertising, as she called them—were in dull, neutral shades and chipped. "It was a desert storm's worth of trouble, but it's there. Well, I couldn't get all the glassware, but I did get the flat pans and the containers with measurements."
The excitement that Yui felt at having actual laboratory equipment was tempered by guilt and concern for her friend. "Were you delayed by my supplies?" she asked, voice low. Yui slathered the healing gel over Hatake's midsection and began bandaging, feeling even worse.
Tsubaki gave her a startled look. "What? No, it's not your fault." She blinked, her tired eyes regaining a spark of their usual curiosity. "Haven't you been affected by the fighting?"
Yui shook her head. "What fighting?" Sure, she'd noticed that there had been less people coming to the village, but Yui had chalked it up as a coincidence.
"The Senju and Uchiha, bastards that they are, have increased the number of their skirmishes." The merchant scowled. "Their chaos has spread to the trade routes and other villages, and other more unsavory characters have taken advantage of that." Tsubaki's anger drained away as she sighed, long and slow, and slumped against the chair. "Has Chiyuku really not had any problems?"
"Chiyuku?" Yui asked, puzzled by the unfamiliar word. She finished wrapping up Hatake's injuries, and he thanked her quietly before shrugging on his shirt. That settled, Yui put a kettle on the fire; green tea, both Tsubaki and Hatake's preferred kind.
"Very funny." Tsubaki chuckled but paused at Yui's confused expression. "Wait, you're serious?" At Yui's slow nod, the merchant gave an amused smile. "It's this town. Everyone on the road calls it Chiyuku."
Yui never called her home by any name. It had always been "the village" in her mind, the only place she'd ever known in this world. At most, it had been "the village by the orange trees" when discussing it with outsiders. Now, apparently, it was big enough to have an actual label. Yui felt a surge of pride that her home had grown so much.
"What does Chiyuku mean?"
Tsubaki's smile grew wider. "Oh, it's an archaic, formal term for a healing ward."
Yui stopped, and as realization dawned, her blush deepened. There could only be one reason for that: her clinic. Had they really named the whole village for her work? She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling embarrassed and bashful and delighted all at once. Yui covered it up by hurrying over to the tea kettle, but judging from Tsubaki and Hatake's smiles, neither were convinced.
She did her best to change the subject as she served them tea. "No, ah... Chiyuku hasn't seen any conflict." Actually, Yui had seen more serious injuries from the ninja that dropped by, and there had been more Uchiha and even Senju seeking treatment. The puzzle pieces were beginning to come together.
"I appreciate it, Yui-san," said Tsubaki, inhaling deeply. "You don't know how much I needed this." She took a sip and sighed. "Wonderful as always." Tsubaki cleared her throat. "Well, I'm glad to hear that this town has been spared from the violence, and I hope your luck continues. Rumor has it that this 'skirmish' might escalate into all-out war."
"How horrible," Yui murmured. Hatake grunted in agreement as he drank his tea in one fell swoop.
Tsubaki tapped the edge of the stone cup. "So, about the salves—"
Hatake burst into action, drawing his sword and shoving Tsubaki behind him in one seamless movement that was too fast to see. The merchant squawked as tea splattered over the floor, and Yui glanced around wildly to see the cause of his sudden protectiveness. Her heart shuddered when she considered the possibility of rounin attacking once more, but Yui's fear subsided when she saw the woman crouched in her window.
Yui stepped from behind the ninja. "Emigiku-san," she greeted with concern. It wasn't the kunoichi's real name—in fact, it was a pseudonym that geisha usually used—but it was the one Yui knew her by.
Emigiku was maybe the most beautiful woman she knew, and Yui had never seen her look worse. Half of the kunoichi's blonde hair was in an intricate coif, while the other half was loose, draped over her shoulder and almost reaching her waist. The once-elaborate silk kimono was torn to shreds, the remains barely covering her body. Dark bruises shone through the pale, traditional makeup. Worse, her thigh had a large, weeping gash with blood crusted down to her ankle.
"Perhaps I should come another time?" Emigiku's said softly, her blue eyes flickering from the other ninja to Yui. Hatake radiated threatening chakra, enough to foul the air of the entire clinic.
"No. Come in."
Glaring at Yui, Hatake continued to hold his sword steady.
Yui met his gaze, unwavering. "She needs healing."
He looked at her for a long moment before nodding and lowering his sword. Hatake still kept it drawn, though, and ensured that Tsubaki remained behind him. Emigiku, still focusing on her fellow ninja, jumped from the windowsill and landed gracefully despite her injuries. Then, she buckled to the floor, stumbling against the wall as the last of her strength left her. Yui hurried to her side and eased the kunoichi into a chair. With care and efficiency, she irrigated the wound and cleared the dried blood.
Tsubaki made a sound of horror. "Tanuki's ass, that's horrible!"
"It hurts worse than it looks." Emigiku gave a strained chuckle. Yui cleaned her hands, grabbed a needle and hemp thread (both sterilized in boiling water, of course), and began stitching it shut.
"Considering how it looks, that's really saying something." Grimacing, the merchant looked away at the sight before catching her bodyguard's annoyed expression. "Oh, come on!" Tsubaki nudged him. "If you can't protect me from a half-dead kunoichi, then I need my money back."
Hatake grumbled to himself, but his glare faded. Yui smiled to herself as she tied the thread with a surgeon's knot. When she first started treating ninja, hell would've frozen before two of them would be in the same vicinity. Then again, they hadn't had the chance. Not enough few shinobi had come to her clinic for that to have be an issue.
"Where are your two little apprentices?" said Emigiku with low purr, though her eyes were fixed on Hatake. "I haven't seen them in a while."
"Busy with another patient in the village." Yui didn't bother hiding her smirk. The two boys had helped treat Emigiku, one of the few ninja who didn't mind her students being around—in fact, she delighted in using her charm to fluster them.
After applying chakra-turmeric salve for its antibiotic properties, Yui began wrapping the wound. (Yet another change: with two apprentices, she didn't have to worry about chakra-medicine shortages.)
"Such a shame," she murmured. "Then again, Yui-chan, your lovely face is more than enough for me." Emigiku had no qualms about turning her charm towards anyone, Yui included.
"I'll giving you some salve. Apply it each time you change the bandages. Do it often," said Yui, more than used to Emigiku's florid words. "Come back if it looks infected."
"Of course. I'll repay you as soon as I can." Emigiku's payments were varied and interesting: it had included rare plants, beautiful kimonos, and jewelry.
"One more thing." Yui went to her shelf and grabbed a spare kosode. Perhaps Yui was feeling extra sentimental after learning the village's new name, but she was struck by how far she'd come. About a decade ago, Yui'd had two pairs of clothing. Now, she had more than enough to spare. She handed the kosode and the medicine to the kunoichi.
"Thank you." With a soft, sincere smile, Emigiku shrugged out of her torn kimono (to the sputtering of Hatake and a gasp from Tsubaki) and pulled on the simple cotton clothing. She twisted the loose hair into a tight bun, pinned it with a sharp-looking needle, and ducked her head. "I should be going."
"Stay for tea?"
Emigiku glanced at Hatake and Tsubaki before declining. "It'd be best if I don't." She waved at the two other visitors before exiting as she came. Yui sighed before pouring another cup of tea for herself, Tsubaki, and Hatake. She'd have to clean the spill from earlier, but that could wait.
"You get interesting patients," said Tsubaki faintly.
Yui laughed as she sipped her tea. "I certainly do."
Sen and Eiji were wonderful students, dedicated and enthusiastic, but they were also teenage boys. Their incessant chatter about that cute girl at the festival or how much sake they drank was amusing… to a certain point. The two were now infusing salves with chakra in the shed, so Yui had a blessed moment of silence.
With the two boys to take the load off the menial tasks and simple injuries, Yui had more time to focus on the serious cases and her experimentation. She'd begun making an agar-substitute for the penicillium and collecting samples. Soon, she'd be able to start cultivating strains. Antibiotics aside, there were other medicines she could try making. Aspirin, for one, or paracetamol, though her memory was still fuzzy on the details...
There was a loud knock at the door, and there went her moment. She stood and opened it to see Hashirama as well as a strange shinobi. Yui had gotten used to unusual appearances, but this man was odd by even ninja standards. He seemed to be a direct contrast to Hashirama—the new shinobi had wild silver hair and equally pale skin. Accusing maroon eyes stared at her, and Yui almost thought that the three red markings on his face were cuts. Blue armor and a dull metal headpiece completed his fierce visage.
"So this is where you've been running off to," said the man, eyes narrowing. "Or should I say to whom?"
Hashirama scowled at his companion. "Don't be rude." He turned to Yui and gave her his usual bright smile. "Yui-san, this is my brother Tobirama. Please forgive him."
"You're just giving out names?" said his brother, exasperated. Yui gave him a second, critical examination. She couldn't see the resemblance to either of his brothers or father.
True irritation flashed on Hashirama's face. "This is the healer who saved Kawarama, remember? Didn't I tell you?"
"No. You didn't tell me anything. You just dragged me here after I confronted you." When Tobirama looked at her again, all the hostility had faded. "Thank you for treating our younger brother," he said frankly, even bowing to her. "You must be the healer who offers aid to our clansmen without requiring payment." The last three words were spoken with just a hint of incredulity.
"No need to thank me," she mumbled. "Come inside."
Yui always made extra tea since her little clinic had no shortage of visitors, so she poured an extra cup for Hashirama and Tobirama. The former drank his with enthusiasm, while the latter simply nodded and kept it in his hands. Hashirama gave his brother a vexed look, but Tobirama ignored it and stared at her jars of medicine. The silence stretched on for a little longer.
"Are these new cups?" said Hashirama suddenly. "They're very nice."
Yui blinked and glanced at the pottery in question, which was a pale gray with painted blue flower petals. A man from the Land of Iron had given them to her a week ago for treating his cough. "They're new," she answered, surprised he'd noticed. "Thank you."
Tobirama was now scrutinizing the cup with the same intensity he had given to her and her medicine.
"So… I've tried making the salves you showed me." Hashirama set his cup down, and Yui refilled it. Tobirama's, of course, was still full.
"Any luck?" Her lips twitched. "Compared to last time, it wouldn't be hard to get better."
He turned red, and Yui laughed quietly. "I've improved a little," Hashirama said, coughing. He tried and failed to sip his tea with nonchalance. Tobirama's eyebrows had risen high enough to disappear into his shaggy hair. "I think I'm still using a little too much chakra since they don't turn out as well as yours."
She shrugged. "I got years of practice."
"How about you?" Hashirama asked. "What did you think of those chakra exercises?"
He'd told her how to improve her control, which involved sticking a leaf to one's forehead and keeping it there as long as one could. Yui could do so for a rather long time, and her two apprentices practiced rather obsessively. For them, it was yet another game to compete at. Over the last few months, Yui had noticed that the three of them had increased the amount of salves they could make—in some ways, it seemed that chakra use was like exercising a muscle.
"It's been useful. I still don't know how you got the skin to just heal up like—"
"You taught her chakra healing?" interrupted Tobirama, voice rising just a tad in pitch. His face was deliberately neutral as he glanced from Yui to Hashirama.
"I did. It was the least I could do." Hashirama didn't look at his brother, but his voice was hard. "Yui-san, you were saying?"
She blinked, pausing for a second as she tried to recall her train of thought. "Ah, yes. I was wondering about whether your chakra healing kills infections."
"Infections?" Hashirama frowned, eyes half-lidded in concentration. "What do you mean?"
Despite himself, Tobirama grudgingly added, "And what does that have to do with chakra healing?"
"Does it… does it kill what causes the infection?" Yui continued on, picking up steam. "Because, if the healing just makes the skin grow back and cover it, then the, um, the cause of the infection—"
"Miasma?" asked Tobirama.
She hesitated. Yui was familiar with the theory of miasma, which held disease was caused by bad air. It had been the prevailing explanation for disease during the last few centuries, both in this world and the last one. Over three hundred years had passed before her old world embraced germ theory, and people had definitely shot the messengers multiple times. It would probably be best to just say miasma. And yet…
"The cause of the infection," she repeated, "could be sealed in. Worse, the usual signs of an infection—like wound discharge—might not be there. It could cause the infection to be ignored until it's too late."
Hashirama and Tobirama were silent for several moments.
"Tobirama," began her friend. "Those fevers..."
"Like with Rika, she'd been healed but—"
"Maybe it's not chakra shock—"
"But infection?" Tobirama ran a hand through his unruly hair, realization and dismay clear in his frown. "Rika healed herself, so chakra shock makes no sense at all, but infection…"
"It would spread," she said quietly. At this stage, there were still no antibiotics. The most Yui could do was trying to prevent it, but once it progressed far enough, it was all up to chance. The thought made her mood sour. She wanted penicillin so badly, but trying to find the right strain of fungi and cultivating it and stressing it would just take so long, and the longer it took the more people would die. Sometimes, it felt like she could never do enough.
"Is there anything we can do to stop it?" Hashirama's earnest question stopped her growing despondency in its tracks. There was no point in agonizing over something she couldn't fix.
"Well, keeping the infection from happening is the best thing." She glanced at her full cup and sipped her now-cold tea. "Clean the wound before chakra-healing it and use medicine to ward it off. If the infection actually happens, treat it like usual." Yui shrugged. "Pot marigold, cinnamon, honey… I'm assuming that the Senju have their own remedies."
"Yes, but I'm not certain anymore that ours are better," he admitted, rubbing his neck. "As you and I proved, more chakra doesn't equate to better medicine."
Tobirama's expression, Yui noted, seemed to become more and more strained. "So you've been making… medicine with her?" said the brother.
"So what if I have?"
She set her cup down, tired of the brothers' back and forth. "Everyone should have access to medicine and knowledge," Yui said firmly. "Hashirama asked me to share. Why wouldn't I?"
Tobirama was looking at Yui as if he was seeing her for the first time. Then, he asked her the same question she had heard from countless ninja, merchants, travelers, and peasants alike.
"Everyone?"
She gave the same answer. "Everyone."
He looked down at his own cup of tea. Though his face was as blank as it had been, Yui still got the feeling that he was deliberating. Finally, he took a sip. Then, in a low voice, Tobirama said, "So, infections."
She smiled at him and waited for him to continue.
"You don't think miasma causes them?"
It was Yui's turn to be surprised. "I, uh…" Taken off guard, she trailed off and stared.
"Your hesitation was rather obvious," he said, not haughtily but almost droll in his tone. "When I said miasma, you simply ignored it. So it wasn't ignorance of terminology but something else. What do you think causes it? Bad spirits? Imbalance of humors?"
Her smile was just as dry. "And here, I can't say more."
"You don't know?"
"I do. I just don't know what to call them." How was she supposed to explain germ theory to someone without knowing the words for any of them? It was one thing to explain it to Eiji or Sen, who accepted her English terminology with little question. This was a whole another matter. As she so often did, Yui cut her thoughts short. "But I will know how to fix it."
"How are you going to do that?" He was still polite, of course, but skepticism had returned to Tobirama's tone.
"I'm going to make a medicine." And it would do nothing short of changing the world.
Yui had been planning for a long, long time. She'd ordered the glassware, of course, but she hadn't been sitting still while waiting for its delivery. With her extra funds, she'd build a second shed solely for penicillin. Now that she had all the supplies needed, Yui was almost vibrating with excitement.
"I still don' know what we're doing," said Sen, rubbing his eyes.
"Me," Eiji yawned, "neither."
She'd made them wake up obnoxiously early for this, but Yui didn't care. If she was successful, she could jumpstart this world into the realm of modern medicine.
"Remember what I said about what makes people sick?" she asked them.
"Yeah. Jyaamuzu. The tiny creatures that live everywhere." Eiji's response was prompt and immediate. She'd taught them using English terms simply because she didn't know what the actual words were. It led to some interesting pronunciations, but names weren't as important as the actual concept.
"Excellent. Now, germs don't just affect people. They can hurt animals, plants, and even mold."
"Okay…" Sen rubbed his eyes a second time for emphasis. "What does this have to do with waking up so early?"
She raised her eyebrows and looked at her little brother. After a moment under her stare, he glanced away and mumbled an apology for interrupting.
They were both great students, but each boy had different interests. Eiji soaked up the theoretical knowledge, but he was more hesitant when it came to actually treating people. On the other hand, Sen had little interest in the whys, but he had a great bedside manner and a confident, hands-on approach. To be a good medical professional, however, one needed both. Hence why Yui drilled them equally.
"As I was saying, germs can hurt mold. Just like how people have ways to fight sickness—fevers and so on—mold and mushrooms do the same. There is one special blue-green mold that produces a medicine that can kill germs. We're going to find a way to grow it."
"And how're we gonna do that?" said Sen, skeptical.
Yui gestured to the gelatin-like substance she had made from boiling bones and connective tissue provided by the village butcher. The village was located in the interior of Fire Country, so she had no seaweed to make agar from. This would be the best substitute until she found a way to get them. "We'll let mold grow on these, and we'll keep trying."
Yui had no illusions about how long this would take or the potential viability of this experiment. Even after the discovery of penicillin, it had taken twenty years before it had been actually used to treat infections. There was also the problem of stressing the fungi—penicillin was a secondary metabolite, and the fungi only produced the antibiotic when not undergoing active growth. The original discoverer of penicillin had accidentally done so by leaving his culture in the cold. Yui couldn't use the same method: it was in the dead of summer, and this region of Fire Country experienced mild winters.
Even if, by some miracle, they found the right strain of fungus, cultivated it, and stressed it so that penicillin was produced, Yui would have to figure out how to actually purify it. Besides the antibiotic, the fungus produced multiple byproducts that weren't beneficial for humans. Isolating the antibiotic would require chemicals and equipment that she didn't yet have. Yui didn't have a proper lab. She didn't have a proper anything.
But one step at a time. Yui would worry about it when she got to it. First, finding the fungus. Everything else could come after.
Yui's older sister Ume strolled into the clinic with a cheerful grin. Like her sister, she had tanned skin from years in the outdoors, dark hair, and equally dark eyes. Unlike Yui, however, Ume was talkative and widely known as the village beauty.
"If it isn't my little sister Yui!" She glanced at the two morose boys in the corner. Yui had ran them through drills of all the medicinal plants, and their brains were still recovering. "And my littler brother and his little friend, o'course."
"Ume-nee," Yui said. Her apprentices mumbled something in greeting as well.
Ume whirled around, hands on her hips. "My, my, you've got some new things, huh? What's that fan from? A merchant sweet on you, maybe?"
Yui laughed. "As if. Just another grateful patient."
"Aw, Yui!" Ume plopped down on the chair and dropped her package on the floor, lounging with her head back and feet on the table. "You keep actin' like that. If you don't try to get a boy, then those rumors about you bein' that god's new concubine will keep getting bigger. Then you won't never get a man! It's not like you don't got no looks. You're my sister! Of course you got looks."
"Oh?" Yui said, noncommittal.
A god's concubine was a new one, but she could parse where it came from. A woman who wasn't interested in getting married—who preferred working to courtship—was outside of society's norms. Clearly, there had to be some sort of explanation. Yui had heard rumors about her being a nun or spirit, to name a few. There were negative rumors as well, but those weren't as popular. (The truth about her knowledge, of course, was stranger than all the conjecture.)
She was used to her sister's playful teasing about those same rumors—Ume always made sure to share the most salacious and ridiculous ones. Of all her siblings, Yui was closest to Sen and Ume; the others were much older and busy with their own lives.
As expected, her sister took that as a cue to continue chattering. "I brought you some food, too. Knowing what you're up to, you didn't likely cooked nothing proper. And it ain't like the boys know how to make something decent. I got you curry, you know! Made how you like it, too."
Before Yui could even thank her, she'd proceeded onto the next subject. Sen and Eiji watched from the corner, more than used to her nonstop personality but fascinated despite themselves. It was hard not to be—Ume was someone who reveled in the attention.
After Ume had proceeded onto the latest scandal involving the blacksmith's daughter, a traveling merchant, and the farmer from across the street, Sen spoke.
"Ume-nee," he interrupted, which was an already miraculous feat, "did you just come to drop lunch, or…"
She gasped. "That's right! I almost forgot. I've been not feeling well, you know, and I gotta talk to Yui."
Ume looked at the boys, who looked back. She cleared her throat. They continued to look at her.
"I wanna talk to Yui." Ume stared, her eyes slowly narrowing as she fixed Sen with a harsh look that only big sisters could pull off. "Just Yui."
"What?" Sen sat up, scowling. "Why not? We're healers, too!"
"Healers-in-training," Eiji corrected, but he too sounded indignant.
"Cause I gotta do women talk. Now, shoo!"
"Why does it feel like we're always being kicked out?" grumbled Sen, but they left without further complaint.
Though Sen meant it in jest, it was something that Yui had been musing about. Patients, from villagers to shinobi, didn't have the same trust in her students. Part of it was time—Yui had been a healer for nearly a decade, while Sen had been learning for only a year and Eiji for even less. However, she sincerely hoped that was the only issue. If her teachings didn't live on, then the change she'd brought would only be temporary.
Yui drew her attention to the present and realized that her sister was being uncustomarily silent. "Ume-nee?" she asked.
"Ah, yeah." Ume fidgeted, looking aside. "Um, you see… I've been feeling a bit tired, lately, and I was wondering if you got any fancy brews that I could use?"
Yui looked at her, taking in the baggy eyes and anxiousness hidden behind her sister's shaky smile. "Is there anything else?" she said quietly.
"Just… I've been a little sick, lately, you know… throwin' up a little, and my—" her voice cracked. "I missed my, you know, my flow last month, and…"
The silence stretched for a moment longer.
"You think you're pregnant?"
Ume nodded, tears coming to her eyes.
With clinical detachment, Yui asked her a series of questions about her possible pregnancy. As Ume answered, detailing her symptoms in more detail, pregnancy seemed more likely. Her sister had missed one month of her menstrual cycle, so at most, she was six-to-seven weeks pregnant.
Yui deliberated for a second, unsure how to phrase it, but decided that bluntness was the best course. Keeping her voice calm and light, she asked, "Do you know who the father is?"
"It's Kaito," said Ume immediately. "He's the only one I…" She didn't say any more.
"What do you plan to do?" This society was unforgiving of unmarried women with children. It was perhaps the worst sin a woman could commit. Yui didn't share their beliefs, of course, but… it would be hard.
Yui was placed in the unfamiliar position of receiving silence. Wrapping her arms tight around her stomach like a barrier, her sister shuddered as she sobbed. Yui knelt by her and wrapped Ume in a gentle hug. She wanted to say that it'd be alright, but Yui hated to lie.
The dangers of pregnancy were obvious, but terminating it was also dangerous. Abortion did not have the near-zero chance of complications that her old world had. Here, it was a dangerous and messy process with a high chance of failure. The abortifacients she had access to were little more than poison at this point, but Yui would rather administer it herself. At least then she could remedy any complications.
A desperate woman would be willing to do anything. A few years ago, a young girl had become pregnant with a traveling merchant's child. Unwilling to confide her 'shame' to anyone, she'd taken raw nightshade, and Yui had found her bleeding out. It had been too late.
"Ume-nee, no matter what you do, I'll support you." She hesitated. "Do you not want to … have the child?"
"I do!" said Ume immediately. "How could I not? It's Kaito's child. I love him, I… I love him, Yui." She wiped her tears and took a deep breath, bringing to front the hardiness and self-possession that a peasant's life cultivated. Sentimentality could wait. "We were gonna get married anyway. We can get married a little sooner, I guess. know he's jus' a hired hand, but—I love him." Ume nodded, mind made up. "I'm gonna marry him, Yui. He'll say yes. I know it."
She smiled at her older sister. "Congrats, Ume-nee. And you know what they say. The first child can come any time after the wedding—"
"But the second always takes nine months," finished Ume. They both giggled, more from relief than from any true humor. Ume grabbed her sister in another tight hug, her smile already becoming more confident though her voice still shook. "Thank you, little sis. I feel better now. I thought I was losin' my mind!"
"No worries." Yui patted her sister on the back. "Things happen." She drew back and gave her a firm look. "But we gotta be prepared for them, okay? I'm gonna go over the stuff you gotta do now that you're with child. I'll be damned if I let my future niece or nephew be unhealthy."
"Got it." Ume wiped one last stray tear. "I promise I'll listen."
Yui squeezed her sister's hand. "Don't worry, Ume-nee. You'll be the best mom."
She grinned back. "Somehow, I got a feeling that you'd be a better one."
As usual, when Yui had a Senju patient, the wound was a severe one. Touka was no exception. The kunoichi was every bit a warrior, with utilitarian gray armor and harsh eyes, but her hair was tied into an intricate topknot that was both elegant and practical. From the little Yui had picked up about ninja, the vast majority of kunoichi worked as support. She supposed that Touka had to be very skilled order to bypass the strict gender norms and be a frontline combatant.
Even injured, Touka held herself with confidence. Her broken arm was the least of her wounds—Yui was more concerned about the kunoichi's abdominal gash. It was deep, though thankfully there was no stomach perforation, and the burns stretching outwards had cauterized it. However, infection was always the most concerning part.
"It's been a while, Yui-san," said Touka as she examined her newly-splinted arm. "As nice as it is to see you, I can't say that I'm glad to meet again." She smiled, softening her severe features and making it clear that she'd spoken in jest.
"It'd be nice if we met without you being hurt," Yui agreed. She stepped back, eyeing her handiwork. "Need any salves or medicine to take back with you?"
Touka shook her head. "I should be fine for—"
"Healer!" came a singsong voice as a man slid in through the window. It was another of her repeat patients, Uchiha Rai, an older man with a permanent smirk and a tendency to brag about his children. "If you don't mind, I—"
The Senju and Uchiha locked eyes, and the air seemed to still as they all stopped. Yui stood there for a full second, because this had never happened before. It had never happened before. For a second, the silence gave her hope. Rai's face was frozen with shock but nothing else. Touka's eyes didn't flicker to the exit, and she didn't immediately reach for a weapon.
The moment passed. Rai moved first, his face twisting up into a snarl.
"You," he breathed. There was a searing heat and a surge of chakra, and everything was moving too fast. Glass splintered as her table crashed against the wall, objects were thrown by people moving too quick to see, demons and darkness crawled at the edges of her vision, impossible and grotesque, the world closed in with vertigo she hadn't felt since—
Smoke. Overpowering black clouds billowed through her room, and Yui was confronted with the horrifying realization that her clinic was burning. She stumbled blindly for the exit, and someone grabbed her and pulled her away from the inferno.
"No," she croaked, coughing with smoke inhalation. "No…"
The two ninja disappeared and reappearing with intertwining blurs as the continued fighting around the ruins of her livelihood. The villagers bustled into action, grabbing buckets of water from the rivers and wells, soaking the surrounding buildings and attempting to quell the growing fire. Embers drifted around her, and two voices—Sen and Eiji, perhaps—were murmuring words of comfort, but Yui didn't hear them.
Her clinic.
"No, no…" Irrationally, she stood to go inside, to get something, but her apprentices held her back. The ninja were still fighting, their destruction beginning to spread. "No, stop!"
The din was unbearable.
"Stop it!" she yelled, voice tearing under the strain. "Stop it, stop it now!"
Touka and Rai halted for a second, stunned to hear her raise her voice. In some corner of her mind, Yui was aware that others in the village were doing the same, but she only had eyes for the ninja.
"Look what you did!" Yui gestured towards what was left of her clinic, face red and shaking and she had never been so angry or heartbroken or disappointed, and how could they do this to her home? "How dare you?"
They stood, motionless and silent and blank-faced, though Rai's mouth was wide with horror and Touka's eyes were full of regret.
"Get out."
Touka made an aborted movement, as if to step forward, and Rai flinched back, glancing from her to Yui.
"But—" He faltered, hand outstretched. Touka tensed and curled in on herself as she clutched at her side.
"Get out of my home!" She was screaming, now. "Get out, and don't you dare come back! Take your fighting with you! Leave, dammit, leave!"
Hesitance. Then, the two ninja were gone, as if they'd never been there, leaving nothing but the smoldering remains of her clinic to show for it.
Yui buried her face in her hands and cried.
AN: Thank you so much for every single review, follow, and favorite. Life is going to be a little hectic in the following weeks, but I will try to keep the pace of monthly updates. Continuing with the bonus content, I've made a post on the tumblr about the different characters involved in the fic and their interactions.
Special thanks to Enbi, Iaso, and jiemae for looking over the chapter. Because them, this chapter was much improved. They're all great writers: please do check them out! And again, I have to sincerely thank you all for your support. Your wonderful, kind words gave me so much motivation.