Only Superficial Girls Wear Makeup
As she sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair of the hospital's administrative wing, the beige walls closing on her, a bunch of old board members were arguing about her fate. Huffing, Aiya refrained herself from ruining the nail tech's work by biting off her manicure. It certainly wasn't her fault if her hand had flown out of its own volition to this doctor's face when he'd called her a taunting bitch the moment she'd refused to let him fondle her ass. Aiya sighed, pinching her nose bridge out of frustration. She hadn't been able to keep her temper in check. Again. A part of her knew it wasn't the fact that the man had tried to grope her without asking for her consent beforehand that had angered her, but the word he'd thrown at her face disdainfully. It used to be his favorite word. Don't be such a bitch, babe. It doesn't suit you. Once again,she'd simply reacted. Without thinking. She couldn't lose her job. It'd ruin everything. Panic settled in her chest at the thought.
Aiya nervously jumped on her feet when she heard the door of the conference room open. Coming out of the room, one of the board members dropped her empty coffee cup in the trashcan beside her chair, before her stern gaze dawned upon her.
"You're lucky to be a friend of the Kazekage's wife," the woman stated harshly. "She advocated for you like crazy in there. It's not the first time you've derogated from this hospital's rules, Miss Sakido. There are protocols for those types of situations. Please, remember them next time before you choose to mindlessly slap one of your coworkers."
Keeping her mouth shut could only be beneficial to her situation, she decided. Taking a deep breath and biting her tongue, Aiya bowed lightly to the older woman with all the civil politeness she could muster in her. "I will, mam."
"Good."
Aiya's heart sank as she watched the board member walk away, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. She knew she'd messed up big time. All because of that one moment of weakness, that split second when she couldn't control her anger anymore. She hated herself for it. It was like a curse, something she couldn't shake off no matter how hard she tried. A few seconds later, Himari came out of the room, balancing a cup of coffee on a pile of heavy-looking documents, a pencil barely holding her dark hair in a messy bun and trying to blow her bangs out of her eyesight. Her clothes were hugging tightly her belly the size of a huge watermelon. Her friend had finally backed out of field missions and settled for an administrative job until she'd given birth. Gaara's overprotective behavior had finally calmed down a notch since his wife had stepped back from field missions, but it still had an impact on Aiya's social life. Like a week ago, as she'd sat across from her friend and her husband at their favorite bar, Aiya couldn't help but feel a little frustrated by the protective aura that emanated from him. Sure, it was sweet that he cared so much for his wife and unborn child, but did he really have to hover over them like a hawk? No man with any sense of self-preservation dared to approach their table, and by the same token, it wiped out their chances at getting any free drinks. And alcohol wasn't exactly cheap.
"Let me help you," Aiya offered, taking the documents out of the pregnant woman's hands. Without missing a beat, she blurted out her worst fear at her. "Am I fired?"
"You're not."
"Thank you-"
"Don't thank me yet," she cut her. Sighing, Himari's lips twisted in a pout. "I couldn't stop them from transferring you to the clinic."
The blond stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait, what?"
The clinic. For an obscure reason, shinobis had a strong aversion towards hospitals. As if it wasn't the first place they should go to get checked out right after they'd come back from a mission. Unless they were missing a limb, many nins were reticent at the idea of asking for appropriate care. Male ones especially tried to deal with their injuries themselves, throwing in a couple of bandages, a bit of alcohol for sterilization purpose and hoped for the wound to magically close itself without the help of any stitches. The clinic was the answer to their stubbornness, a place where they could receive proper medical attention without feeling like they were betraying their pride. The thought of spending her days in the clinic was far from enticing.
Himari winced, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Aiya. I couldn't do anything about it. I know you don't particularly like the clinic, but it's your… what? Seventh infraction?
"Fifth."
She hated to work at the clinic. Shinobis had a reputation for being tough, and they hated showing any signs of weakness, including pain. Aiya often found herself dealing with stubborn patients who refused to take any medication, insisting that they could handle the pain. She had to be patient, explaining the importance of taking care of their injuries and allowing their bodies to heal properly. It was a constant battle to get them to understand that their health was more important than their pride. If they weren't pressing her to bandage them up faster, they'd complain about the ground's unevenness, the weather, or whatever was possibly responsible for their injury. Even though every nurse stationed at the clinic knew it wasn't a misplaced rock on the road that gave the man a black eye the circumference of a fist. She frowned. The clinic reeked of testosterone, pride and stubbornness. It reeked of him. Her body went rigid at the thought. Blinking away her uneasiness, Aiya shook her head.
"It's only for three months," added Himari, trying to cheer her up.
"That's twelve weeks," she replied, screaming internally. "You'll have given birth twice by the time I'm done over there."
"Don't be dramatic."
"I'm not. It's just…"
It sucked.
…
Only superficial girls wear this clown's shit. That's why I love you so much, babe. You're pretty even without makeup. You don't need it. Aiya reapplied a thick layer of lip gloss, satisfied only once her mouth glittered enough to blind a man. She'd groaned out of hopelessness when she'd gotten her hands on her schedule, her eyes flying over the night shifts' time slots with her name next to it. No more beauty sleep for her. At least, the other nurse sharing the night shifts duty with her, a nineteen-year-old girl freshly out of the Academy, had the presence of mind to not bother her with a list of endless questions. Nita followed her silently around the clinic like a shadow, eager to learn.
They'd settled down to eat a midnight snack – leftover brownie squares from the hospital's cafeteria. If a bit dry, a few gulps of water did a good job at shoving the overly sweet brownie bites down her throat. Nita didn't complain about their snack's dryness, eating hers in less than three bites. Aiya sighed, laying down on one of the empty beds.
Night shifts always went painfully slow. Only young, brash shinobis dared to travel the desert at night, stupidly not scared of the potential creatures lurking in the dark. Seasoned nins preferred to wait until daybreak, unwilling to take unnecessary risks. Usually, night shifts went smoothly. Aiya swallowed a yawn, bored. They'd already made a thorough list of every instrument at their disposition, changed the beds' sheets and scrubbed last night's blood off the clinic's floor tiles.
"Alright, we should finish the medication's inventory," Aiya declared, jumping off the bed before she'd fall asleep on it. "I'll go get whatever we're missing at-."
Kicking the clinic's door out of their way, a bunch of shinobis barged in. The dreadful smell of metallic blood and sour sweat assailed her nose and if she hadn't been trained any better, Aiya might have gagged. Beside her, Nita did. Squealing, the girl's eyes widened out of shock at the sight of the men, beaten, messy, and covered in so much blood it was almost impossible to figure out where it was coming from.
"Help him first," rasped one of the men, barely able to carry his unconscious comrade. "He took most of the blow."
The only woman of their group helped him lay down their friend on the bed. As they dropped him, the badly injured man let out a pained groan. Aiya stilled. He was a mess. Torn clothes, barely conscious and bleeding out from an ugly wound on his side – probably the result of an exploding scroll considering the mangled, burnt flesh of his thigh.
Snapping out of her initial shock, Nita brought her a bunch of sterile gauze, pain meds, bandages, a bottle of disinfectant and a suture kit.
"I've got him," Aiya said to the girl, quickly switching to nurse mode. "Help the others."
Nita nodded, then started to triage the injured shinobis, assigning them a bed and performing first care procedures to treat their wounds.
Putting on a pair of chirurgical gloves, Aiya probed at the burnt flesh around her patient's injury. He'd lost a considerate amount of blood. She started to push healing chakra into his body.
"What happened?" she asked.
"There's been an intrusion at the border," explained the woman, wiping off the blood trailing down from a wound on her forehead. Her fingers accidentally brushed past the sensible wound, and she hissed. "It was dark. They caught us off guard."
Aiya threw her a brief look. "You might want to sit down. You could suffer from a concussion."
"I'm fine," she replied. But the woman still listened to her and obediently sat down on the edge of one of the beds. Her gaze didn't break away from the motionless form on the mattress. "He pushed me out of the way. He literally saved my life. Is he going to be okay?"
Aiya didn't answer. She couldn't make any promise. With the length of his injuries, she wasn't sure he'd make the night or even if he'd recover completely from it.
"I'll do my best."
…
A few hours later, Nita had discharged most of their patients and the shinobis eventually left the clinic after she'd promised to keep them informed about their comrade's condition. Aiya sighed. Under her gloves, her hands were all sticky from the accumulation of sweat. She'd finally stabilized him. What she wasn't expecting was for Temari to barge in the clinic, barely dressed for the chilly temperature of the night. With a gray cardigan thrown over her light camisole, frantic, the sand sibling grabbed by the shoulders the first person in her field of vision – a startled Nita.
"Where's my brother? Is he alright?"
"I-I don't know, mam. What's his name?"
The room fell silent. Shit, shit, shit. Aiya tensed. Her gloved fingers grazed her patient's face, and under all that dirt, coagulated blood and the explosion's soot, rested dark markings. Purple markings. She paled. Frozen, her fingers rested lightly against the young man's cheek. It was weird to see him lying there, out cold, without his usual smirk. She didn't know the puppeteer that much, except for their occasional interactions, but an unpleasant feeling still stirred inside her chest. She pushed it down.
"He's over here, Temari."
She didn't recognize her own voice. Aiya may not especially like the man, but it still didn't mean she wished for him to be blown away by an explosive tag. Letting go of Nita, the blond rushed to her brother's side. Squeezing his hand gently, Temari's worried gaze trailed over the extent of Kankuro's wounds. Aiya had dealt with the internal injuries, more life-threatening at the moment, but the external injuries left still weren't the prettiest of sight.
"Oh god," choked Temari.
Aiya took a step back from the bed. With her job came a certain detachment from other people's emotions. She'd grown numb to the screams and the cries, but for a glimpse of a moment, the petite blond imagined herself at Temari's place, holding Daisuke's hand on a hospital bed. As the thought crossed her mind, her hand raised itself of his own accord, squeezing lightly the blond's shoulder. Her mouth pronounced words without her avail, breaking yet another hospital rule with a promise she wasn't sure to be able to keep.
"I've got him, Temari," Aiya said calmly. "I've stabilized him, but he's not out of the woods yet. You've got to let me work. He'll be fine. I promise."
The sand sibling blinked away a few tears, nodding. "I understand. Do your best, please."
Nita offered the Kazekage's sister to update her about her brother's condition, but the tall blond shook her head, insisting on staying. With a deep breath, Aiya steadied herself and began the process of cleaning and dressing Kankuro's wounds. She worked methodically and efficiently, focusing on the task at hand to keep herself from dwelling on the gravity of the situation.
It was going to be a really long night.