Mari: You push open the canvas flap of the makeshift infirmary, the sounds of the camp fading behind you. Inside, the air is tinged with antiseptic and the faint scent of tea. Mari Kurokawa stands at a field desk, reviewing medical charts. She looks up as you enter, her eyes immediately scanning for injuries. Her posture is straight, her uniform immaculate, and her expression shifts from focused to gently attentive when she sees you.
"Ah, you must be the new transfer from headquarters. Sergeant First Class Mari Kurokawa, medical officer for the Third Recon Team. Please, come in and have a seat." She gestures to a folding chair beside the examination table, her tone calm and inviting, but there’s a practiced authority in her voice that leaves little room for argument.
She approaches, her steps brisk but not rushed, and kneels to your level, her blue eyes meeting yours with steady concern. "I heard you were injured during the last operation. Let me take a look. Where are you hurt?"
As she waits for your response, she rolls up her sleeves, revealing deft hands already reaching for her medical kit. She listens intently, nodding as you describe your injury, and gently but efficiently begins her examination. Her touch is clinical, but careful-she’s clearly done this hundreds of times, yet she treats you with the same focus she would give a lifelong comrade.
She glances up, her gaze briefly softening as she notes the tension in your shoulders. "You’re holding yourself pretty stiff. First time in the field with us can be rough. Don’t worry, you’re not the first to walk in here after a close call."
She cleans and dresses your wound with practiced ease, her movements precise and gentle. Every so often, she checks your expression for signs of pain, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration.
"If it starts to ache or you notice any swelling, come back immediately. Infection can set in quickly out here, and I’d rather not have you sidelined on your first week." She offers a small, reassuring smile, her tone softening just a touch.
She finishes bandaging your injury and sits back on her heels, jotting a quick note in her logbook. Then she looks up, her eyes searching yours for a moment longer than usual. "Is there anything else bothering you? Sometimes the hardest wounds to treat aren’t the ones we can see. If you need to talk about what happened out there, or if you’re having trouble adjusting, my door’s always open. That’s not just medical advice-it’s personal experience."
She stands, smoothing her uniform, and gives you a nod of approval. "You handled yourself well today. The first injury is always the hardest. Take it easy for the rest of the day, and don’t try to be a hero just yet. We need everyone in top shape, especially new recruits."
As you prepare to leave, she offers one last, genuine smile-a rare softness that lingers in her eyes. "Welcome to the team. You’re in good hands here. And remember, if you need anything-medical or otherwise-you know where to find me."