This Isn't Lupus [Noharu/Retsu]

UNOHANA RETSU | BLOODLETTER

Retsu had arrived at the 2nd Division shortly after the conclusion of her fight with the armored Hollow. She did not "steal" any patients already there—except for one whose doctor fainted from exhaustion. Even when Rukia Kuchiki had gone off to what was very likely a Captains' Meeting, she did not take charge despite her natural instincts. She was an outsider still. There was an exception. If you offered your assistance to her patients? You were then under her command for the duration she needed you.

That had been hours ago. Working well into the night and into the following morning, Retsu had taken a few breaks if only to eat pre-packaged nutritional bars. They were similar to the Spirit Fortification Pills she still used, but they came in better flavors. With support staff from the Shin'ō-Seiyakuin now also assisting when needed, Retsu had time to time to check the stability of some of the worst-off patients. Rose Otoribashi, perhaps one of the few she recognized here, was still comatose. Whether it was medically-induced at this point or a natural result of his injuries was anyone's guess.

No Lieutenants remained in the hospital. That left seated officers, and Retsu had heard of one in particular whose injuries were severe. Somehow, she was even conscious. Retsu grabbed the chart outside of the room and walked in while reading initial notes. How she was even alive was a testament to whoever stabilized her. "Eighth Division, Third Seat Noharu Asahina." Her voice was as tired as she looked. Even the woman whose only change had been her haircut in a thousand years couldn't help but to have the faint hints of bags under her eyes. "You seem to have had a worse day than most survivors or even some of the recently-departed. I would ask how you feel, but I think we can skip what will be an obvious answer." Retsu only now looked over the clipboard. "Though, I suppose I should confirm—with the damage to your lungs, are you capable of speaking?"

Hope is a Disease

UNOHANA RETSU | BLOODLETTER

Others might have laughed. Retsu did not. Instead she raised an eyebrow—a call to her challenge. If anyone could stop Noharu from talking, it would be her. But, it was a better sign than she was expecting. What Retsu saw was worse than the chart described. She had eaten cheese with less holes than Noharu. Even patched up and healed mostly, the evidence was there. But even that was secondary. A missing limb was no shock. It did, however, always seem off to see what was clearly a void where a chunk of body should be. Noharu's waist was no exception.

"If quips and snark were medicine, I believe I would have no need to be here for you would be dancing down the halls." Retsu stopped focusing on the chart entirely. Her voice was tired, but perhaps a bit less empty than it would have been the week prior. She had been brought back to thinking about long-forgotten topics thanks to visits from unforeseen encounters. And that wasn't even talking about the fight she walked out of. "You seem to be in better spirits than others despite not partaking in the pain medication." In some ways, she reminded Retsu of those like Ikkaku Madarame—quite a lot of bluster with no backing down.

But Retsu was there for a reason, and it wasn't to quip back and forth. "Can you describe the attack that caused these injuries? The injuries seem similar to those inflicted by a Hollow's Acidic Touch—but your case is certainly among the worst I have witnessed, let alone treated."

Hope is a Disease

UNOHANA RETSU | BLOODLETTER

This woman would have thrived in the old 11th Division under one of the later Kenpachis. Her baudiness would have been welcome—encouraged even. But under her 11th Division? There was a certain level of disrespect that would not have been tolerated. This wasn't even counting the 4th Division... Retsu shook her head. She did not remember Noharu specifically. Even the past few years felt like a haze currently. Mental fatigue and stress did affect one's memory.

Retsu listened intently as Noharu described the attack. This dust seemed to be the primary culprit, but what it actually did... Well, she wasn't quite sure what exactly was being described. "Likely not an acid then. It would not have rotted away. That sounds like a high-speed induction of necrosis..." Retsu thought for a moment. The symptoms reminded her of something else. "Perhaps it was similar to the attacks of one of the Espada—a weaker version since that attack reportedly caused immediate rotting."

"Removing the afflicted areas is likely the only thing that saved your life." She placed the chart on a stand and turned to Noharu. She interlaced her fingers and let her hands rest in front of her. "Not to disparage the 2nd Division's healing capabilities, but I would like to try to examine and attempt to heal those 'divoted' areas. If nothing else, it may provide insight into the attack's properties that can be used to heal others affected—as well as your other injuries. If you have no objections, I would like to begin this as soon as possible."

Hope is a Disease

UNOHANA RETSU | BLOODLETTER

"Then I will begin. Again, this is meant to be more of an examination rather than actual treatment. If I cause pain you are unable to bear, then tell me and I will stop. I would rather your faculties remain intact." Retsu nodded towards the morphine drip. She wanted Noharu to be able to accurately answer questions. Morphine was not conducive to that. Without any further objections, Retsu placed a hand over one of the divots. A translucent, sickly-green ball of energy formed between the divot and her hand.

Unlike what others may say, Retsu was not a cruel doctor. Even as her own energy probed and a tender area, she started with a topical anesthetic quality. Her Kaidō was layered like a multi-release pill. Each section had its purpose. To Noharu, it would feel like a cold aloe being applied to a sunburn. But even that might cause too much discomfort. So Retsu began another technique: a distraction. "I have not heard too many reports of success, let alone victory today. But there are many others who can tell their tales no longer... Were you at least successful in routing the Hollow?"

Hope is a Disease

UNOHANA RETSU | BLOODLETTER

The 2nd Division had done a fair enough job in saving Noharu's life. The problem was the excess flesh that had been removed. Kaidō was not the be-all-end-all. It could not realistically regrow a lost limb. It certainly could re-attach one. Even for who was regarded as the current-best healer in Soul Society, these weren't going to magically disappear. But what Retsu was able to do was begin purging the Hollow's reiryoku. Her stronger energy was purifying the wounds as she went over them. "I believe that to be the standing result. I have yet to find anyone today who fought an abnormal Hollow or Arrancar and come out with a definitive victory."

And then, a question no one had the balls to ask reared its head. People had likely thought of asking the question. Some likely had theories. Retsu hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. There was no need to give the "PC" answer. "The answer I would normally tell—if anyone asked—is that it simply took too much time to maintain. That is at least not a life, but it is just not the entire truth of the matter. I do not need to hide my past any longer, and concealing my scar was doing just that. Even if I still wore my hair in a braid, it would be down now. You were not the only one who did not emerge victorious today. A Vasto Lorde level Hollow emerged in the Rukongai, and I attempted to stop it. It was routed eventually and retreated. But it will be yet another failure upon my shoulders."

Hope is a Disease