For the moment, it appeared her charge was doing reasonably well at holding himself together, for good humour could not be wrung out when one was overly tired or overwrought. While Isane chortled along with the thrust-out tongue and pantomime attempt at frightening imaginary passersby, her professional assessment of his exhausted air led her to be somewhat on her guard for any change in mood. Tiredness would generally overtake a person and weigh on their mind. In most normal circumstances, a worn-out person would go quiet and mentally retreat as they either sought to be alone or tried to sleep. The reactions of patients who were physically and mentally weary from their conditions and the treatments to which they were subjected, however, were more varied. Some lashed out from a sudden surfeit of spleen; some fell into deep melancholy with tears or self-flagellation; some shut themselves completely and willed themselves to be numb to everything going on so as to disassociate themselves from what was done to them. The phlegmatic sorts tended to withdraw within themselves. The ones who were active in mind and body were more prone to truculence and volatility, but that was not always the case. The quiet, good-natured ones tended to be introspective when in health, but would allow their thoughts to prey on them when they were not at their best. As she inclined to this last category herself, she had firsthand experience in the ways in which the mind could be a seething morass when one believed one was at oneâs worst with nothing good to offer anyone. Given Juushiroâs behaviour since his abortive escape, she judged he would either give vent verbally in some vociferous way or fall into bitter self-recrimination.
Not knowing which to expect, she inhaled slowly to brace herself for the prospect of both as she decided against disclosing that they had seen more than his tongue at the Fourth. Doing that to a refined gentleman would be in poor taste. She could, fortunately, call upon a semblance of composure to smile gratefully at his appreciation even if he was more her captainâs patient than hers. Seeking to detach herself from turning into a splotchy red, she spoke of the Fourth collectively. "Thank you. Itâs nice to know that someone notices our work instead of seeing us as overbearing nannies,â she acknowledged, meeting his gaze with a tight smile. As the drainage has slowed down, she called forth a quick diagnostic Kaido to determine the re-expansion of the lung. "We all have our limitations. Some are self-imposed and some are due to factors beyond our control. None of us can excel in every single field or in every endeavour. Captain Unohana advises us to be self-aware of our own limitations, accept them and work within them. The influence of your skills extends wider than you know, sir."Â
As the assessment revealed his lung had expanded well thus far, she disinfected her hands again, donned a fresh pair of gloves, disinfected his chest, injected another small dose of local anaesthetic and set about disconnecting the suction and anchoring device as she continued evenly, "You are consultative where others may choose to be peremptory. You extend real care and concern to nearly all fellow creatures, even those with whom you claim slight or no acquaintance. You demonstrate by example that problems ought to be solved with reason first before the application of other means, and that prudence and consideration of any known fact or occurrence from various angles are more sensible than impulsivity, which is something that I try to learn from.â Despite the faint blush at this admission, she waited for him to exhale before beginning the process to disconnect the drainage tube and explained, âYou try to find good even in dubious subjects and situations, which is remarkable given the unpleasantness you must have seen and experienced over the centuries. Itâs little wonder that Kiyone looks on you as a father and I suspect she will hold her future suitors to your standards. Which is both an amusing and terrifying thought. I could go on, but we are both sufficiently embarrassed, I think.â
Isane paused to check the equipment and the state of Juushiroâs breathing as she met his eyes again and gave him a comforting twitch of the lips. âFate can be as blind as Fortune sometimes,â she stated without rancour, while supporting the drainage tube, cutting the anchoring suture and hovering a hand over incision as she executed the necessary Kaido over the area to keep things stable. âEven if there is a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will, a few things can be directed.â As she placed a square of gauze over the top of the tube with her other hand, she contemplated if she ought to tell him that Kiyoneâs placement in the Thirteenth was her captainâs doing. After all, the girlâs excellent academic records in the areas of Kido and Kaido made her an ideal candidate for the Fourth, yet she had been sent to his Division. That would necessitate the revelation that Kiyone was in the Thirteenth as a first line of medical care for him, and apprising him of this fact may cause him some awkwardness and inconvenience Kiyone in the long run. Then there was KIyone to consider. The girl did not know the Captain of the Fourth had made behind-the-scenes arrangements for her placement and Isane had judged now was not to time for her to know. No, it was best she keep this detail to herself even if Juushiro may have drawn such a conclusion on his own. Taking the opportunity afforded by his calm breathing, she offered him a smile, watched for another soft exhalation from him and briskly removed the tube. No splash injury; so far so good, she sighed in relief at the lack of resistance to the removal.
âFate is more big-picture orientated, I think. The tiny inconsequentials - those she allows us to shift for ourselves,â Isane intoned musingly, throwing the tubing on the drainage bag stand with one hand and squeezing the sides of the tube insertion site with the other. Healing Kido was swiftly executed over the area through her non-dominant hand as her other hand tied up the wound closure suture. She was almost done when Juushiro began blathering. A corner of her mouth quivered knowingly and she removed a glove from one hand.Â
There they were, she observed impassively, weariness and self-reproach have taken over. At least there werenât tears. Some patients did have crying fits when exhaustion overtook them and they gave in to their feelings of impotence. Dealing with those exhausted both patient and physician. At least she wouldnât have to slap aside Juushiroâs hands or strap him down or sit on him before sedating him, she noted dryly to herself.Â
âItâs all right not to be all right sometimes,â she articulated quietly, letting him rest his eyes as she watched his breathing while continuing to exert the requisite concentration of Kaido at the incision area. Her free ungloved hand patted one of his rhythmically in what she hoped was a comforting fashion. âYou have nothing to apologise for. Sometimes things just happen. We canât always order everything as we like. Youâre among friends here and weâll do what we can for you in the same way that youâve looked out for us. Breathe slowly. Youâve done very well. There is no oozing.â After a cursory glance at the slowly closing wound and a subtle manipulation of her reiatsu into the Kaido, the patting hand rested sympathetically over his and she went on in the same hushed tones, âYouâre safe here. Iâll need you to cough later, to make sure everything is all right. But that can wait. Rest a bit. Let me know if there is any pain or tightness in your chest. Iâll be here. And when things are all right, and all has been washed up and cleared away, Iâll stay with you until you fall asleep.â
Even when flustered, Lieutenant Kotetsu possesses remarkable grace and subtlety. JĆ«shirĆ hears the way she shifts from speaking about herself to speaking about her entire decision, and he understands perfectly well what she is doing and why, and so JĆ«shirĆ, who would hate very much if Lieutenant Kotetsu felt truly uncomfortable, decides not to push. âItâs very good work,â he confirms, hoping that the two of them will both feel a reasonable sense of closure about the matter now. He watches through heavy eyes as Lieutenant Kotetsuâs hands weave familiar diagnostic kidĆ, and JĆ«shirĆ tries his very best not to change the rhythm of his breathing so that she can make the most accurate assessment possible. The pressure in his chest is little more than a dull, soft when he inhales fully, and that signals to JĆ«shirĆ that the procedure delivered its intended result. He furrows his brow in concentration when he inhales again, making his own assessment of his condition. Is there more pressure on his right side now, or does it simply feel that way by comparison? He cannot say for certain. He exhales, slow and steady, and then draws in a new breath. Itâs only through sheer force of will that JĆ«shirĆ resists the urge to use his own kidĆ to run a quick, slapdash diagnostic â he knows that Lieutenant Kotetsu will chastise him if he does, and whatâs more, he knows that wielding kidĆ in this way when his resources of energy are so limited is, in truth, a bad idea. His next exhale is almost a weary sigh of frustration, but JĆ«shirĆ catches himself just in time, and gently and silently instead.
Mercifully, Lieutenant Kotetsu has continued to speak, and JĆ«shirĆ, too emotionally exhausted for much else, allows himself to be distracted by what she says. âSelf-awareness is essential if one wishes to make a true impact,â he agrees. âWe need to know when to rely on others. Often, my own proudest moments have come from allowing others to shine, I think⊠and I daresay your Captain might feel the same way.â
JĆ«shirĆ forces himself to near-stillness as Lieutenant Kotetsu continues her work, never mind JĆ«shirĆâs natural instincts to shift against his pillows to make it easier for her to reach â so rarely, JĆ«shirĆ knows, does movement like that actually help, and a body at rest is much easier to work upon than a body in motion. As ever, JĆ«shirĆâs eyes track the Lieutenantâs movements, and as ever, JĆ«shirĆ finds himself exceedingly impressed by her skill.
What he does not expect, however, is the absolute deluge of praise that spills from the Lieutenant as she works.
She offers a few kind, articulate observations, and JĆ«shirĆ musters as much grace as he can and simply smiles at her, a polite, indifferent expression. But then, she continues. She showers compliments upon him, to an extent that JĆ«shirĆ can scarcely fathom, and heâs so caught up in making sense of her words that he forgets altogether to pay attention to her hands and, despite himself, winces when Lieutenant Kotetsu disconnects the drainage tube from his chest. With an effort, he maintains that neutrally pleasant expression upon his face, and spends several slow, slow moments grasping for something, anything that is both honest and reasonable to say. JĆ«shirĆ finally shakes his head, a small, soft gesture. ââŠthank you,â he settles on, in the end. A tiny, true smile does lift his lips now, even though his heart feels so unexpectedly and overwhelmingly full that it very nearly pains him. âI do hope Kiyone has learned at least a little in the years weâve spent together. As for future suitors⊠well.â He chuckles idly. âWeâll see, now, wonât we?â
JĆ«shirĆ hardly expected to feel his emotions pulled upon so firmly this afternoon. Physical weariness brought on by his escape attempt alone, JĆ«shirĆ could have handled, but now, that physical weariness is coupled with the trying endeavor of accepting this onslaught of praise. JĆ«shirĆâs eyes suddenly feel tremendously tired, and when he tries to, he can actually hear his heartbeat pounding in his temples. He rests against his pillows, forces himself to gaze as calmly as he can into the middle distance, and focuses on his breathing. In. Out. Slower, now, JĆ«shirĆ. In. Out. Slower still â donât make yourself dizzy, just because it doesnât hurt as badly anymore. In. Out. Thatâs nearly it â just a touch slower, even nowâŠ
Lieutenant Kotetsu says something strange. JĆ«shirĆâs eyes slide shut, and he does his best to keep a pained expression from crossing his face, but heâs quite sure that he only succeeds in part. He opens his mouth as if to reply but in the end, he bites back his words. No. Careful, JĆ«shirĆ. Donât slip too far. Another, even more jarring thought strikes him after that. Iâm tired. Iâm weary. My guard is low. What if I reveal my secrets in my sleepâŠ?
What was it Lieutenant Kotetsu had said?
âEven if there is a divinity that shapes our endsâŠâ
Abruptly, JĆ«shirĆâs heart is in his throat. Does she know? Has all of his caution been for naught? And, if she knows â might Kiyone know, too? How many people are making accommodations for JĆ«shirĆ without his knowing, and how poorly has he failed to protect those he cares about from the pain of the truth?
He hears himself apologize, again and again. He canât help himself. He tries to school himself to silence, but his spirit and his tongue seems to have minds of their own, and so feelings and words flow freely. A reply makes its way into his ears, but to JĆ«shirĆ doesnât have the strength to bear more small kindnesses like this, not now, not after such an eventful day. At long last, he hears a command, and that pierces through â breathe slowly. He nods his head and draws the slowest breath that he can manage, and lets it out with gentleness and care. He feels a hand upon his, and itâs an indescribable comfort. He bites back a weak sound of gratitude that threatens to rise in his throat; how many days has it been since someone touched him simply for the sake of kindness or comfort or closeness, and not to administer treatment?
ââŠI think Iâve learned my lesson, Lieutenant,â JĆ«shirĆ says quietly. âI shouldnât have tried to escape. I would have been all on my own with a body too tired and a heart too weary to make any serve my Division the way I prefer to⊠but then, they say that experience is the best teacher, donât theyâŠ?â
He tries very, very hard to open his eyes, but he cannot. Frustrated, but unwilling to fall into the soft darkness of sleep without saying what he must to Lieutenant Kotetsu, JĆ«shirĆâs fingers twitch beneath Lieutenant Kotetsuâs hand â a poor substitute for eye contact, but it is contact all the same, and that is much, much better than nothing. âI do feel better, Lieutenant,â he says. âI⊠am sorry for the trouble. Thank you for everything.â
