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News always had a habit of travelling fast in the Hidden Leaf Village. And it always seemed that the greater the news, the quicker it whipped down the streets whispered from one mouth to another. The gossip no jutsu was strong here.
And such was the case when it came to the appointment of the Fifth Hokage. Hiruzen Sarutobi’s death had been so unexpected, a sincere shock to the system. It was safe to say that Konoha had grown comfortable in his leadership. Now that he was gone, where were they meant to turn to? Rumors circulated that the elders had been looking to appoint one of the legendary Sannin, with JIraiya as their prime choice. When word broke, however, that instead the role would be adopted by none other than the first hokage’s granddaughter, Tsunade Senju, there was quite an uproar among the villagers. The first female hokage, and she was a drunk and a gambler to boot. But she was also a highly skilled medical ninja who’s advocacy for the importance of medics in the field changed the landscape of the shinobi system irrevocably.
None were quite so anxious as the hospital staff themselves.
The Konoha Hospital had fallen into an unfortunate state of disrepair over the years. Hiruzen Sarutobi and the elders maintained the minimum upkeep, focusing the majority of their funds on primary care. No amount of battling and advocating could seem to change their minds.
“I hope this means the tides will soon turn in our favor” Heiwa Chouwa, the hospital director, sighed. She gazed out at the village from the large window in her office on the top floor, a crowd congregating near the gates awaiting Lady Tsunade’s arrival.
“What do you think she’s like?” a young woman, Hiretsuna, asked the emergency room doctor, Dr. Gon. With stars in her eyes, Hiretsuna spun in her chair behind the check-in desk and grinned dreamily. “I bet she’s kind, and I know she’s smart!”
“She ought to be” Dr. Gon replied morbidly. “But I won’t hold my breath for change.”
Marian, a stout woman with brown hair like a football helmet, huffed. “I don’t plan to, either” she gruffly replied, crossing her arms as she stood guard at the waiting room’s entrance. “If she wants our respect, she’s going to have to prove that she has our best interests in mind.”
Hiretsuna frowned. “You guys are such spoil sports!” she whined, shaking her head.
“We’re just trying to be realistic” Dr. Gon reminded her. But realism sounded a lot like pessimism in Hiretsuna’s mind.
“What do you think, Dr. Ida?” an older woman, watching the streets tentatively from the fourth floor. Sosei’s mousy brown hair fell down her back in two loose ponytails, swaying as she turned to her colleague.
Dr. Ida smiled softly as he finished shuffling paperwork and stood from his desk. “We just have to have faith” he replied, voice warm and reassuring. “We won’t know until she gets here, but we can’t focus on the worst case scenario.”
Sosei gave a single nod in agreement. “I couldn’t say it better myself” she agreed. Glancing behind her, she surveyed for a brief moment the mental health ward, the long white hallways and scratchy chairs and hospital rooms with large windows so as to strip all patients of their privacy. Ceiling tiles eroded overhead, lights flickered. Sosei sighed. “I’m crossing my fingers for a brighter future.”
Dr. Ida approached his colleague, standing beside her to look out the window with hands on his hips and a determined smile on his face. “And if not, then we’ll fight for one, just like we always have.”
From behind, a tired, youthful voice whined, “I’m so tired of fighting.” Sosei pursed her lips at her daughter’s complaints. Now was not the time.
“I am, too, Fujie” she replied. “I am, too.”
Seiiku sipped her tea in the third floor break room and nodded in respectful greeting toward her colleague, Dr. Kyushutsu. As he reached for his bento from the refrigerator, he asked, “Quiet day, isn’t it?”
Seiiku nodded. “Even the unborn must know today is too big for their debut” she commented.
Dr. Kyushutsu chuckled and took a seat across from her. “It’s almost suspicious, don’t you think?”
“Babies know, doctor” Seiiku posited. “They’re smarter than you may think.”
“Not as if we have plenty of expectant mothers in the village to begin with” Dr. Kyushutsu commented.
“And why do you think that is?” Seiiku asked with a raise of her eyebrow.
“The general public just aren’t very focused on starting families right now, is all” Dr. Kyushutsu explained.
Seiiku frowned. “You are only looking at the surface, doctor” she argued. “Consider why, exactly, no one is starting families. We are in turbulent times. I can feel the chaos ringing in the air as we speak. Women need peace and security in order to confidently journey through pregnancy and childbirth. There is too much at stake.”
Dr. Kyushutsu tented his fingers in front of his face and hummed in thought. “You make an interesting argument.”
“I make the only argument” Seiiku corrected. “Besides, have you ever considered the fact that our healthcare is in shambles? Security begins at home, but how can we expect families to flourish if the citizens of Konoha cannot even have faith in the quality of their own healthcare? This hospital is in shambles and there is nothing we can do about it. Look in that nursery. Look at those so few infants nestled in those bassinets. Our equipment is not up to regulation standard, Dr. Kyushutsu. Konoha deserves better.”
Smirking, Dr. Kyushutsu shook his head with a breathy laugh. “You never change, Seiiku” he commented. “Do you think the village will?”
Seiiku pursed her lips. “With Tsunade in charge, I can only hope.”
In the hospital basement, a young woman flitted from cold locker to cold locker, surveying the dead and considering the open spaces remaining. “I don’t get paid enough for this” Tsubaki Ogori jested to one of the corpses, surveying the dark circles under his dead eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. Clearly stress was a factor in your death.” She slammed the locker shut and scribbled some notes onto her roster about her current charges. “The dead just keep on coming, don’t they?” she sighed. “I’d kill to see the day when this place is empty. Just one day where no one bites the dust.” She laughed then in spite of herself, twirling on the toes of her platform sandals to snap a pair of latex gloves to her hands and get back to work.
Across the hall from the emergency room, an old man squinted at medicine bottles and jotted down the prescriptions still in need of fulfillment. “Stock’s not quite the same as it used to be, eh?” he asked, sensing a presence at the counter. Miru Hyuga blinked her crystalline eyes and her tinkling laughter echoed down the hallway.
“I wouldn’t know” she replied.
Tsukurou, the pharmacist, chuckled under his breath and turned his attention to his young colleague. “Well, what have you been up to today? Seen anything especially interesting?”
“The chunin exams caused a pretty big influx in injuries” Miru replied. “There’s this one kid, I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
“That bad, hmm?” Tsukurou pondered.
“The bone breakage looks near irreparable. I don’t think I have the heart to tell him that his future is zapped” Miru sighed. “There’s only one medic skilled enough to have even the slightest chance of saving him…”
“Lady Tsunade” Tsukurou answered.
Miru’s eyes snapped up in knowing. “Exactly” she said.
Tsukurou hummed under his breath. “Tsunade is a good girl, you know. I think she’ll do this village proud. I trust the future of Konoha in her capable hands.”
“You say that as if you’ll end up in the morgue next” Miru mentioned.
“Hey, I have no reservations about my old age” Tsukurou argued. “I know I’m nearing my expiration date. And when I do go, at least I can trust that I’ll be in good hands!”
“I don’t think I trust your granddaughter that much” Miru cocked a brow. “I heard she talks to the corpses.”
“Even better” Tsukurou hummed. “I can imagine it gets very lonely down there for both the living and the dead.”
“Stop it” Miru laughed, swatting at the air dismissively. “You’re starting to freak me out. No wonder I choose x-rays and ultrasounds over cadavers. I’d rather see life starting, not ending.”
A soft smile touched Tsukurou’s wrinkled face then as he turned back to the shelf of prescriptions. “You have a good outlook, Miru” he told her. “It’s good to be positive.”
“Are you feeling very positive right now, Tsukurou?” Miru then asked, glancing out toward the hospital lobby. “Because I’m not so sure I am.”
Tsukurou did not look back at her as he replied. “Like I said, Tsunade is a good girl. I trust her to do this village well. And I trust her to turn this hospital around in a way that we never had the resources to do before.”
From across the village, curious eyes befell a blonde woman approaching the gates. Her young protégé walked alongside her, hugging a pig to her chest. A sense of knowing filled the old pharmacist’s bones as he listened to the faint whispers of cheering and murmuring riding the air. A small smile flickered across his lips as he added, “Tsunade Senju will not let this facility go under, even if it kills her.”