Healing New and Old Wounds <Ba Sing Se, EK>

[midori]

Midori listened attentively, her eyes curious and gaze fixed upon Mesheiko like his few words could have the most profound meaning. She was, indeed, interested in what he had to say, for she knew little of a soldiers life – only what her grandfather had babbled on about when he had retold snippets of his ‘glory days’ as a soldier. (And one knew after a few stories that not everything a retired soldier said was necessarily true.) However, while she did know a little, she was curious what Mesheiko thought about it all.

It sounded like participating in drills was not an activity to be envied, and Midori could guess precisely why. Stressful labor in the blistering sun? What a horrible way to spend a day! Though, this was one more reason to add to the list of why soldiers were to be admired; whoever could do all that had a lot of dedication and strength, and deserved a lot of respect.

“Lucky you, then.” Midori chimed pleasantly. Along with this she grinned, glad that they were alone, even if it meant Cheng was in for a grueling day. In fact, she found she was quite cheerful and alive; Midori supposed that she was just ecstatic at the idea of spending a whole day right where she was (which was rather ironic, come to think of it).

“Instead of spending an entire day exhausting yourself, you get to relax here. With me!”

With this, Midori stroke a comical pose, grasping her hands together and pulling her arms straight to the center of her legs, while tilting her head with a teasing, radiant smile, as if she was, quite frankly, the most perfect woman in the Earth Kingdom.

[atalanta]

"Lucky me," Mesheiko said. Today was much like a day when he was a child. He would be sick and excused from his daily chores while one of his sisters would get, in their opinion, the duty of caring for him. Mesheiko personally wished on those days with all his heart that he still had the sweet, caring, and dutiful mother his sisters often told him about. Still, on those days he could relax in bed and simply eat as much of any food his father deemed appropriate and could read as much as he liked. Now, the situation was a bit different, but it was only small details; the similarities remained. Mesheiko was excused from a duty, but drills, not chores. He wasn't sick, but injured. It wouldn't one of his sisters that would care for him, fortunately, but Midori. He could still relax and read, though he doubted they would allow him to eat too much due to the Army's strict rationing.

"An entire day with you? I thought I'd just sleep," Mesheiko teased. He did hope to get in a nap today, but not sleep the entire day away. Even in the infirmary, it would be a waste. The night was for sleeping, not the day, even if he could use a few extra hours to heal. There were things he needed to do, or at least things he needed to have someone else, like Cheng, do. Of course, talking with Midori was at the top of his priorities today, right up with eating. Perhaps there would be some quiet point in the day where the two of them could get some peaceful quiet time alone. Mesheiko remebered the few brief, romantic moments he had with Midori, and while it confused him terribly, he knew he enjoyed it. Midori was supposed to be his friend, but she was so far more. It wouldn't be long before the entire infirmary knew of their relationship, and he didn't even know how to define it. Oh well, perhaps if he couldn't answer their future questions they might become frustrated and leave him be.

[midori]

“Well, I think I’ll let you take a nap or two if you find you’re in desperate need…” Midori mused allowed in a light, teasing way. Though in reality, if Mesheiko found that he truly needed more rest, she would not even think about refusing him. She wished for Mesheiko to have a swift recovery – not only for his own health (even though it was the main reason), but also so they could spend all that time traveling together, alone, without the tedious gossip of the infirmary.

However, Midori was still confused on why she longed so greatly for that time. Certainly, the nurses’ antics got old, but why did she suddenly take this interest in Mesheiko in the first place? Had his heroic deed and selflessness been something she had been looking for? Had her heart been so easily won over by those brief romantic moments? Or had Mesheiko always held her interest, but she only just realized?

Whatever the reason, Midori knew her feelings for Mesheiko were running deeper, but the thought no longer concerned her. In fact, she found she was more than content to simply enjoy the tender moments as they came. In fact, she realized, she now looked forward to those moments, looked for any opportunity to enjoy them. Why this was so, however, she was still a little uncertain.

“But I hope you shouldn’t be asleep too long.” Midori added, with a much more sincere smile. Subconsciously, her hand was moving closer to Mesheiko’s, but she soon caught herself and coolly brought her hand back to her lap, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“It would be rather boring without you to talk to.”

[atalanta]

Mesheiko tried to laugh, but it simply came out as a wheezing cough. It would be long before that trademark cough would leave him entirely, unfortunately. Mesheiko, in the quiet he had at night, could not actually sleep, but he gained peaceful time to think, which was impossible during the day hours of the infirmary. The cough had troubled him ever since he had awaken from his unconciousness. In the time he had to himself, Mesheiko suspected that smoke, terrible, acrid smoke that burnt Earth Kingdom vegetation and flesh from the fires of the Fire Nation had invaded his lungs. "Boring? Infirmary? Trust me, the two words simply do not mix," Mesheiko assured her jokingly.

Suddenly, as if on cue, there came a great gasp from across the aisle. It was followed by a terrible sort of choking gasps and coughs, with a series of grunts and cries mixed in. Mesheiko's eyes went wide in a moment. "Sunan," he muttered. Immediately he rose from the cot, forcing all the pain his injuries shrieked desperately at him to the back of his mind. He gripped Midori's shoulder to steady himself and nonverbally ask for support. The moment in which he miraculously made the crossing from his cot to Sunan's went by in a quick blur. He quickly grabbed the post of Sunan's cot, breathing heavily. "Mesheiko.." Sunan muttered. Mesheiko stared at him, imploring his fellow soldier to say that he would be alright. "Stay on yo..yo..yo..your guard. This isn't the last of it. I can feel it," Sunan said. He gave another series of his rapid chokes and gasps before his eyes closed entirely.

This set off an immediate alarm in Mesheiko. He had worked in the infirmary, and seen these symptoms far too many grim times before. "Nurse! Nur-" Mesheiko shouted before his lungs forced him to relax his voice. Two nurses, both older, moved with speed and agility contrary to their age. They took their place opposite Sunan on both sides, performing a series of mysterious medical rituals. They hardly even noticed Mesheiko, and much less that he was an injured patient as well as soon, though fortunately far better off physically. Mesheiko looked at Midori briefly. "Boring indeed," he said darkly before turning his concerned, alarmed attention back to his wounded and possibly dying friend.

[midori]

Midori was rather baffled by Mesheiko’s sudden movement, and, at first, his motive. There were many unpleasant sounds in the infirmary, and they already seemed to run together in a meaningless hum in Midori’s mind. With a good distraction, Midori contently ignored what horrible things awaited the others; not that she meant to appear heartless, but she simply wished that she could enjoy some peace for a little while. She’d had enough of the pain and fear fire brought, separation, and anything remotely depressing.

However, Mesheiko’s firm grip on her shoulder brought a great deal of panic to her. He was going to try to walk again? But he had fallen the last time! He could seriously harm himself, worsen the injuries he already had! What was he thinking?

Midori had little time to react, however. Once Mesheiko had stood, he swiftly (or as swiftly as he could) began his way across the small, empty space between his cot and another’s. Mouth agape and eyes wide, Midori watched helplessly, shocked and afraid to approach or touch him for fear of how it might push him over. She could only pray that he would make it across okay and, thank the spirits, he did.

Quickly Midori rose and strode over to Mesheiko, trying to stay out of the way of the dutiful nurses. She had heard the horrible noises that had come from what must be another one of Mesheiko’s comrades, but she had only heard muttering before the other women had appeared. She now hesitantly glanced in the direction of the occupied cot, unyieldingly curious about what had happened. But all she saw was a man lying on a cot, motionless.

“Mesheiko…” Midori began in a soft, sympathizing tone. Gently she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping the gesture was more encouraging than pitying. “I’m sure the nurses are doing everything they can. You should probably go back, and please let me help you this time.”

Though the same probably didn’t apply to Mesheiko, Midori had never witnessed an actual death, and she wasn’t very energetic at the idea. Plus, she was fairly positive the solider being visited wouldn’t want Mesheiko exhausting himself on his account. Then there was also that little sad truth was speaking softly in the back of her mind: There was nothing he could do.

[atalanta]

Mesheiko heard Midori's voice coaxing him back to his rightful place. He knew that what she was saying was true, and agreed, but he simply would not allow himself to lead Sunan's side. It went against his nature entirely to leave someone in need, and while Sunan was receiving medical treatment, the reasons were much more personal for Mesheiko. He simply could not stand if one died and he had done nothing. He felt he had a duty to his fellow soldier, whether on the dangerous battlefield or the safety of the infirmary. Mesheiko did not if this had been instilled into him through the Army's rigorous routine or if it was simply natural, but it did not matter. He could not simply abandon Sunan and go back with Midori without his conscience burdening him. Besides, Mesheiko was not sure if he could make the short but exhausting journey a second time. It was not very much time to regain his strength.

"I won't leave," Mesheiko said firmly, looking at Midori directly. It was most likely the peak of strength of his voice for the day; most of the time his voice was quiet and quivering, reflecting his battered condition. "Well, if you're not going to leave, then please stay out the way," one of the nurses spoke, but never looked at Mesheiko. She was preoccupied. He immediately took a step backward from the cot. He certainly did not want to interfere with the nurses' crucial work. It seemed one had signaled for help, because another nurse appeared. The three of them blocked Mesheiko's view of Sunan fairly, and he rested back on his good foot, content to at least be there in case he was needed in some way.

His conscience began to burden him in another way, however. He had been rather firm and harsh towards Midori just now. She was only trying to help him, and had only his best interests at heart. Well, perhaps not only his. Of course she had her own, and Mesheiko suspected she had their blossoming relationship's best interests at heart also, which was closely entertwined with each of their own interests. Mesheiko then glanced at her apologetically for his rough behavior, but did not dare actually speak any further. He had used much energy already, and although the nurses probably thought he was a stereotypical man: commanding, demanding, and tough, he did not want to give fuel to any fiery rumors that were no doubt worming their way through the infirmary.

Mesheiko then cast his gaze to the floor, apparently study the infirmary floor intently, which would probably be more interesting than most floors for vile reasons, but truly deep in thought. He had seen men die in battle, which was a terribly brutal thing, but in battle one had to keep in motion and on their guard. In the infirmary, it was far more disturbing. He desperately wished he did not have to witness such a death again, and certainly not now to a friend.

[midori]

Midori was not offended or necessarily surprised by how Mesheiko had reacted, but she was disappointed. If there was one thing she knew about Mesheiko, it was that he was stubborn about how most things went, and seeing that he was determined to stay by his friend’s side did not bring much shock to her; however, Midori still wished that Mesheiko had taken her advice, for she was still rather concerned for his energy level and his healing process.

Letting out a soft sigh, Midori removed her hand from his shoulder and took his hand instead – a confirmation that she would let him stay, though with a fair amount of reluctance. Still, she didn’t understand what Mesheiko would achieve, exactly, while standing a bit away from his friend, having his view of the patient blocked by the nurses. However, Midori tried to think how she would react if Mesheiko was in that fatal position, and she then didn’t have much of a hard time understanding why he would want to be so near.

Nevertheless, Midori was still a bit worried about what would happen to the man on the cot – things didn’t seem to be going too well. She was worried about what she may see, what Mesheiko might see. But no matter. Midori had firmly decided she would not desert Mesheiko. Especially, she thought bleakly, since Mesheiko might be in desperate need of some moral support as of soon.

Glancing over to him with this thought, Midori noticed that his head was aimed downward, which sparked a little curiosity, as well as a little worry, in her. She squeezed his hand gently in reassurance, hoping he wasn’t growing too depressed in his own thoughts; she knew how that went – worrying about what might very well happen until it’s essentially a confirmation, causing you to spiral down into a dreadful, sorrowful side of yourself…

Midori didn’t want that to happen to Mesheiko.

[atalanta]

Mesheiko felt a bit more supported with Midori at his side, though he was still conscious of the infirmary and anyone that might chance a glance at the pair clustered around Sunan's cot. He was prepared to make any sort of defense or excuse to cover their relationship, but a better one than he had given earlier. Mesheiko could say she was just comforting him, or giving him physical support as he could hardly stand on his own. He laced his fingers with Midori's for a moment as he was confident that no one was really looking. Besides, their interlaced hands were between their bodies, blocking a few from anyone but perhaps the nurses attending Sunan, and they were a bit older than the younger chattering nurses Cheng used his charm on, so he hoped that they would not be gossiping.

The nurses hands suddenly went still, and it was eerily quiet for a brief moment. One of them moved away, and placed her hand on Mesheiko's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, "there was nothing more we could do." Mesheiko's faced contorted into a expression of shock and pain, and immediately he took the nurse's place by Sunan's side. His back and eyes were still bandaged, but there was no longer any jerking or coughing. Now Sunan looked still and far more peaceful than he had, but nontheless the grim fact remained that he had died.

Cheng strode in with his usual confidence, always having a certain smile and stride. He waved to Mesheiko with a grin, and Mesheiko drew his eyes up bleakly to meet Cheng's, and then Cheng's went wide in alarm. He hurried over. Mesheiko quickly withdrew his hand from Midori's. He certainly did not want Cheng to find out about their relationship now. Cheng glanced around briefly to find the cause of Mesheiko's sudden despair, and then found Sunan's lifeless body. "Oh, Mesheiko," Cheng muttered. "It was just Sunan's time. I volunteered a few times before you were in here. He got weaker each time and couldn't hold on. There was nothing you nor I could have done," Cheng said, reaching out across to rest his hand where the nurse's had been earlier. It apparently was the shoulder they all were trying to comfort, but a hand on his shoulder did nothing to help his mind. Mesheiko thought he would never had to witness a man die like that again, but he had been wrong. Mesheiko just regretted that Midori had to be exposed to it. If only he had returned to his cot like she had asked! He came to the conclusion that he was too stubborn for his own good.

[midori]

Sorrowful Midori was that the man on the cot had died, but, alas, she had never known him personally, so didn’t feel the same, strong sting of despair that Mesheiko must have. This made Midori felt terrible, as if she was some heartless person for not feeling a sudden wave of depression; but if it was any better, seeing the lifeless body of Mesheiko’s comrade left a heavy lump in her throat, as if her heart was so heavy it was pressing on her lungs, preventing speech.

This was death. Midori wasn’t sure what she expected while witnessing it, but it was certainly not this. She imagined it much more dramatic, Midori supposed, not just this man laying so still, breathless, seeming so… peaceful after all those hacking coughs. It was an eerie peace and calmness, one that was not natural, only quiet and sad.

However, Midori knew that her heavy heart was surely nothing to the sadness Mesheiko must feel, and she found that she was thankful for Cheng’s sudden appearance and comfort, for she wasn’t exactly sure what to say; she wasn’t placed in this kind of position often. Because of this, Midori simply gave a slow, agreeing nod to Cheng’s statement before returning her gaze to Mesheiko with a slight, tentative smile. She wished to touch his hand in comfort, but she wasn’t sure what kind of impression it might give Cheng.

“Try not to stress too much, Mesheiko.” Midori said finally, her voice soft. “You still have quite a bit of healing to do yourself.”

[atalanta]

Mesheiko seemed to be fairly lifeless himself. His eyes were glazed over in despair, and his very body felt heavy with the shock and pain. It was a terrible feeling, a despair mixed with sadness, pain, shock, and a pinch of regret. He wished he had come to known all those fallen men he had served with better, but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. The pain would be exponentially intense if he felt more for the soldiers than he did. If Cheng were to die, then Mesheiko would not know what to do with himself. After all, Cheng had just comforted him at the death of another soldier. What would he do if it was Cheng, lifeless, on that cot? He imagined such a terrible situation and then imagined all the women in the camp crowded around Cheng's cot, weeping and mourning. This uplifted Mesheiko's spirits a bit, but in a rather morbid sort of way.

Mesheiko's head was bowed in a sort of humbleness and reverence. His eyes threatened to overflow with watery tears, but he made a quick swipe at his eyes with his hand. His eyes were not terribly red, for which he was grateful. He didn't think it would be terribly proper for him to begin weeping, especially with nurses watching his every move. Mesheiko cast his gaze away from Sunan's body, but turned his head away toward his cot so the nurses nor Cheng could see his eyes, but Midori could. He could be that vulnerable with her, or at least he thought. "I don't think you'll have to worry about stress, Midori," Cheng said. For one moment, even Cheng's humorous demeanor had been dampened.

Cheng seemed to spot Mesheiko's change in attention, and asked, "Do you want help back over, Mesheiko?" Mesheiko nodded and murmured a yes. Cheng took his place next to his fellow soldier, and Mesheiko draped his left arm over Cheng's shoulders for support. Mesheiko hopped as best as he could across the aisle, leaning against Cheng when he felt unsteady. Mesheiko detached himself from Cheng when they were fully across, grabbed the post of the cot, and lowered himself onto it with a depressed sigh. His eyes went immediately to Midori, and although the tears had vanished from his eyes, his sudden despair and depression was clear. He had hardly spoken, but he didn't need to. The situation spoke for him.

Cheng drifted back to Midori, thinking it would be best to give Mesheiko some space, and he wanted a bit of his own. He was not quite as impacted by Sunan's death as Mesheiko, but he had not served alongside the man, simply treated and tended him. He needed to speak to someone as well, and not the women he normally did. "He was injured so badly, Midori. He was blinded and broken, and he's had more surgeries than I can possibly keep track of. It was only a matter of time.." Cheng said, trailing off. All their lives were only a matter of time, but Sunan's seemed unfairly short, especially over these several past months. Both Mesheiko and Cheng could hardly imagine months in the infirmary, in the medical atmosphere everyday. Mesheiko certainly did not intend to stay here for that long.

[midori]

The simple sight of Mesheiko’s eyes threatening to dampen filled up Midori with a nearly overwhelming sensation of sympathy. She had never seen Mesheiko cry, and it seemed to her that it would be a terribly rare sight for him (as stubborn as was). Desperately she wished to comfort him, but she simply was unsure of what to do, and only watched with a compassionate gaze as Mesheiko was helped to his cot.

“It sounds like he’s probably more peaceful this way.” Midori replied to Cheng softly, though projecting her voice to a volume loud enough for Mesheiko to hear as well. It was the only and most honest, optimistic reply she could conjure, for the picture of Sunan’s motionless body was still fresh in her mind. She hoped her observation was comforting to the two soldiers, Mesheiko particularly, for she was unsure how else to express her deep sympathy she felt as Mesheiko’s pressing sorrow remained clear.

With this worry in mind, Midori looked over to Mesheiko with a sincerely compassionate gaze, hoping her eyes would speak what she felt she couldn’t put into words. Soon, Midori, pulled by another irrespirable force, strolled over to Mesheiko’s side calmly and casually wrapped an arm around his shoulder in a brief side hug, releasing him while looking at Mesheiko with a tender smile, as if to say things were going to get better.

[atalanta]

Midori's actions brought far more comfort to Mesheiko than words. Yes, perhaps Sunan was more peaceful, but they all wanted to see peace in this life, not the next. They all wanted to see the war finally come to an end. Every innocent was terribly unfair because it was one more person who could not physically see the war's end. Mesheiko was very lucky, he knew, not to be killed in the battle, and was extremely grateful for it. It was indeed a miracle, for he had heard more well patients, ones who could leave this cursed place, and visitors murmur about the great number left dead after battle. There was only one good point about that battle according to Mesheiko: it was won. Ba Seng Se was secure, at least for now. Others might argue that another good point would be that there very few missing, but not to Mesheiko. To him it only meant that the Fire Nation was far more determined to capture Ba Seng Se than ever, and if they took very few hostages, then it certainly wasn't for diplomatic purposes.

He met Midori's hopeful, positive eyes with his own, and his spirits were uplifted somewhat, but looked away. Still, death was a hard thing to experience and an impossible thing to adjust to. Sunan's inflicted another wound on him, although mental. Mesheiko had an even greater deal of healing to do now. "Perhaps so," Mesheiko muttered.The greatest mental obstacles would have to be conquered before his body could truly heal, to the point where he could walk again, at least. Worries and cares pressed on him; he didn't know how much time he would be allotted in this infirmary. Cheng had said Sunan had been there for months, but his wounds had been painfully severe.

"But we don't hope for death in the infirmary, no matter how bad the injuries," Mesheiko said, not really objecting to Midori but to himself and whatever spirits controlled their lives. "He's right," Cheng said solemnly, nodding, "recoveries always come first." A young nurse passed by, hustling to Sunan's cot. She was talking quietly with the nurses who had tended him moments before his death, jotting notes down occasionally, but Cheng hardly noticed. At least, it was not the way Cheng would normally notice a nurse. Death had a great impact on all, even the lightest of hearts. Mesheiko and Cheng, known for their positive outlooked and how it overflowed onto the other soldiers before the battle, now seemed in the depths of despair.

[midori]

Midori lips bent down into a small pout at the two, for their sudden sullen and solemn tones were the exact feelings Midori had wished to avoid during her and Mesheiko’s stay. She had no idea how to comfort them, no idea what to say or what to do to lift their spirits. Even worse, their sorrow was rubbing off on her, causing her to slump onto the edge of the cot and examine her hands silently.

“I don’t think anyone hopes for death.” Midori said after a moment’s silence, it being the first reply she could conjure. She continued to look down into her lap, not sure how to glance up at Mesheiko or Cheng, as they seemed quiet, wanting to keep to themselves. “But it happens. It’s just life… ironically.” With this, Midori smiled somewhat timidly, her cheeks pinking slightly.

Feeling as if she was making a fool of herself, Midori sighed, deciding it was best to refrain from talking. Silently and almost subconsciously, Midori slipped her hand into Mesheiko’s, brushing her thumb gently against his hand comfortingly, her gaze still aimed downward and her expression rather somber.

[atalanta]

Mesheiko had to agree. It was a hard fact of life, a cold and harsh one, but one that he had to deal with nonetheless. He hadn't known Sunan all that well, but they had been comrades at arms. Such deaths were far more powerful. Mesheiko lived among these men. Even if they didn't know them, even if he didn't particularly like them, there was still a certain unspoken bond. It went against his logic, but even he shed tears at the funerals of those officers he wasn't fond of. Memories were embedded deeply in each and every man, and death came hard. It was too bad they were fighting to die. Mesheiko and Cheng glanced at each other, but did not look away. They both shared the despair.

He felt the soft touch of Midori, and he let out a tiny sigh. He shouldn't be doing this, not in front of her, but it was difficult not to. Death was difficult. Their gaze still unbroken, Cheng's usual grin spread across his face. He took his eyes away from Mesheiko's and to Midori's hand, and raised an eyebrow, apparently pleased. Cheng, however, was surprisingly silent. Mesheiko was glad, for he did not particularly want to answer Cheng's questions at the moment. Still, it lifted both soldiers' spirits slightly. They determinedly kept their gaze away from Sunan's body, and instead glanced around for moment as if playing a game of I Spy. Then, both their gazes became fixed on Midori and they stared at her for a moment. It wasn't intimidating, nor funny, but their expressions seem to indicate otherwise. Both young men were grinning.

Their moment was interrupted, however, when a nurse strolled casually by. She placed a small snack and a jar of his medicine at the corner of the bed, not even stopping to help him. The infirmary was stirring into its usual afternoon hustle and bustle, and she apparently had things to do and places to go. Cheng shook his head for a moment with the grin still playing on his lips. "I'd love to be in your place, Mesheiko. A hero and women waiting on you hand and foot.." he said wistfully. "Take it. I don't want this place. It's yours," Mesheiko said, with a mix of humor and seriousness. He would gladly trade this awful position with someone else. However, he would not want anyone else to suffer the same fate, so he supposed he had to bear the weight instead. There was no sense in complaining, though. What had happened had happened, and he couldn't change that. This brought him somewhat to terms with death, particularly Sunan's. Life had to go on.

[midori]

Midori was rather confused by Mesheiko and Cheng’s mutual grins, as well as their momentary stare; though, it did not disappoint her to see their cheerful beams light up their recently sullen expressions. Midori simply raised an eyebrow at the two during this time; her was smile somewhat amused, but her eyebrow rose questionably, hinting towards her puzzlement.

A pound of anxiety swiftly surged through her veins at the approach of the nurse; however, her hand was quite stubborn to stay in its comfortable position. To her relief, the lady was quite busy and hardly offered the group a glance, which assured Midori that her compassionate gesture would stay a private affair – at least, as private as was possible in this place with gossiping girls and Cheng nearby. Because of this, her warm, contented smile returned, and Midori listened to the others with pleasant amusement.

“Nonsense, Cheng.” Midori interrupted, scoffing, but in a playfully exasperated manner. “Most women are quite enamored with you as it is; you hardly need an additional excuse for them to pay attention to you. Besides… even if you were the hero, I’m only staying here because of Mesheiko and his state, so you would have missed out on my company if things were reversed. And that would have been unbearably disappointing for both of you, I’m sure…”

With this, Midori squeezed Mesheiko’s hand cheerfully, smiling teasingly at the two.