Ryu arrived in his room, weary from the day's events, and made a beeline for his bed. Sitting cross-legged, he tried to focus on the permanent effect modifier he wanted to instill. It had worked wonders on his surroundings, but using it on his own body filled him with trepidation. What if he made a mistake and damaged himself further? Sure, he could try to fix it, but the pain would be unbearable.
With a resigned sigh, Ryu knew he had no other options. Carefully, he concentrated on the transformation he'd applied to himself. He scrutinized every detail, memorizing the process, then canceled it. Agony washed over him as his wounds reopened, but it was a necessary step. Only by using the altered version of the Jutsu from the beginning could he make the transformations permanent.
To manage the risk, Ryu decided to break the process into smaller transformations, focusing on one injury at a time. He started with his shredded right shoulder, which was barely hanging on. Time was of the essence; canceling the transformation had also removed the new blood. If he didn't act quickly, he'd bleed out.
Focusing on the specific details of the canceled transformation, Ryu invoked the Jutsu again. His shoulder mended itself seamlessly, and he knew the repair was permanent this time. Cautiously, he used the normal technique to address his remaining injuries, watching for any unexpected complications.
Now, all Ryu had to do was wait. But waiting around in his room didn't suit his restless nature. He roamed the hospital halls, curiosity piqued by a surgery room he came across. Eager to explore his fascination with the human body, he hesitated, remembering the kindness the clinic had shown him.
He wasn't about to barge into off-limits rooms and jeopardize their hospitality. Plus, security was tight. Ryu could practically feel the former Anbu lurking nearby, ready to catch him in the act and kick him out.
Ryu recalled Amida's words about the clinic being understaffed. Maybe he could lend a hand? Not only could he earn some money, but he could also use the clinic as a hideout until the Mist stopped pursuing him. It seemed like the perfect plan. Excited, Ryu headed to the lobby to discuss his idea with Akina, hoping his unique skills and slightly sarcastic attitude might just be what they needed.
---
Akina raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on her face. "Let me get this straight, you want to join our staff? With no formal experience or training? Are you joking?"
Ryu shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, I might not have the traditional training or experience, but I've picked up some skills along the way. Back in my village, we had our fair share of work-related injuries, and I learned a thing or two about treating them. Plus, I have a solid understanding of the human body. Maybe I could help you guys find better ways to treat patients?" Ryu knew he needed the clinic as a hideout, but he couldn't risk exposing his secret Transformation Jutsu.
Akina looked thoughtful, her stern expression softening. "I suppose we could use the extra help, especially with our current staffing situation. Arakan, in particular, could use some support. Alright, let's give it a shot. But before we make anything official, we need to test your abilities. Arakan is on the 3rd floor treating a patient right now. Go up there and see if you two can collaborate on the patient's treatment."
Ryu's face lit up with excitement. "Thank you, Akina! I'll head up there right away." With a determined stride, he headed for the stairs, eager to prove his worth.
---
As Ryu reached the third floor, he spotted Arakan standing beside a patient's bed, just as Akina had mentioned. The patient had a severe slash wound stretching from his right shoulder to his left hip bone. The injury appeared fresh, and Ryu assumed the man had been admitted recently. The patient's pallid complexion concerned Ryu—blood loss from the wound could cause him to collapse any moment.
"Hey, Arakan, I'm Ryu," he introduced himself as he entered the room. Arakan turned to face him, and Ryu recognized the grumpy middle-aged man he had encountered earlier. This man was a skilled Medical Shinobi? Ryu took a closer look, noting Arakan's brown, unkempt hair and matching beard, brown eyes, and a face marked with wrinkles. Arakan's thin frame was also striking—did the man not eat enough?
"What do you want, brat? I'm very busy right now!" Arakan snapped, sparing Ryu a brief glance before returning his attention to the patient.
"Akina sent me up here to help you as a kind of test run," Ryu explained. "I'd like to work at the clinic for a while, so I'm here to assist you with anything you need. This patient seems to need a blood transfusion urgently. What's his blood type? I can go fetch some."
Arakan looked mildly impressed. "You're quick to assess the situation. I like that. I don't know his blood type, so bring some O-negative. We should have it in stock. There's a special refrigerator at the end of the hallway." Ryu nodded and dashed off to retrieve the blood, eager to make a good impression.