Kotori's blood-bending quirk has never felt like more of a gift that it does right now.
The fight might be over, from what she can tell, from what she hears in the relative silence that comes from the lack of explosions and fighting outside, but Kotori's work isn't over yet. There are more casualties than she can count, more victims that she's entirely sure that she can help, but she refuses to dwell on that. She has to do whatever she can. She can't expect any more than that, but she knows that she won't accept any less.
There are ambulances all over the place, groups of medics haphazardly put together because they all have quirks that are useful for treating injuries. Kotori gets called over to a girl in a stretcher, with a stomach wound that's bleeding profusely. Kotori knows that if allowed to bleed, the girl is going to die from blood loss. She grits her teeth together, and focuses all of her energy on gaining control of the blood in the girl's body. Clot, she thinks firmly, like she can urge her quirk to work faster. She urges the platelets in the girl's blood into action, breathing a sigh of relief as she feels the clot forming.
"You're going to make it," she promises the girl, and turns her attention back to the wound. She can hear the girl whimpering in pain, but she's doing her very best to be brave. They all are, Kotori thinks. There's nothing else for them to do at this point but to be brave. To do their very best.
"Kotori!" a familiar voice calls, and it breaks her concentration for a moment. She looks up, her heart caught in her throat as she sees Honoka.
They haven't seen each other for so long and Kotori remembers the last time they parted ways, unsure if they would ever see each other alive again. She's been keeping herself busy tending to patients so she wouldn't dwell on the thought of Honoka leaping into battle, or potentially sacrificing herself to save someone else. None of that matters any more, though. Honoka is here, she's alive, and Kotori doesn't think she's ever been more relieved in her entire life.
The lapse of concentration might be short, but it means that she isn't focusing on the girl's wound any more. The clotting slows, new blood seeping through, and the girl wails with both pain and terror. Kotori presses her lips together into a thin line, nodding at Honoka before turning away, paying attention to the task in front of her.
There'll be time, she tells herself. She just needs to get through this, and then she can get out of the ambulance and hold Honoka in her arms.
They're both alive, Kotori thinks, her heart pounding in her chest. They have time.
FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T
mentions of violence and blood
word count: 476
remix of
Kotori's blood-bending quirk has never felt like more of a gift that it does right now.
The fight might be over, from what she can tell, from what she hears in the relative silence that comes from the lack of explosions and fighting outside, but Kotori's work isn't over yet. There are more casualties than she can count, more victims that she's entirely sure that she can help, but she refuses to dwell on that. She has to do whatever she can. She can't expect any more than that, but she knows that she won't accept any less.
There are ambulances all over the place, groups of medics haphazardly put together because they all have quirks that are useful for treating injuries. Kotori gets called over to a girl in a stretcher, with a stomach wound that's bleeding profusely. Kotori knows that if allowed to bleed, the girl is going to die from blood loss. She grits her teeth together, and focuses all of her energy on gaining control of the blood in the girl's body. Clot, she thinks firmly, like she can urge her quirk to work faster. She urges the platelets in the girl's blood into action, breathing a sigh of relief as she feels the clot forming.
"You're going to make it," she promises the girl, and turns her attention back to the wound. She can hear the girl whimpering in pain, but she's doing her very best to be brave. They all are, Kotori thinks. There's nothing else for them to do at this point but to be brave. To do their very best.
"Kotori!" a familiar voice calls, and it breaks her concentration for a moment. She looks up, her heart caught in her throat as she sees Honoka.
They haven't seen each other for so long and Kotori remembers the last time they parted ways, unsure if they would ever see each other alive again. She's been keeping herself busy tending to patients so she wouldn't dwell on the thought of Honoka leaping into battle, or potentially sacrificing herself to save someone else. None of that matters any more, though. Honoka is here, she's alive, and Kotori doesn't think she's ever been more relieved in her entire life.
The lapse of concentration might be short, but it means that she isn't focusing on the girl's wound any more. The clotting slows, new blood seeping through, and the girl wails with both pain and terror. Kotori presses her lips together into a thin line, nodding at Honoka before turning away, paying attention to the task in front of her.
There'll be time, she tells herself. She just needs to get through this, and then she can get out of the ambulance and hold Honoka in her arms.
They're both alive, Kotori thinks, her heart pounding in her chest. They have time.