"You must be joking…" Tatsuma stammered, unable to believe it.
Orochimaru then recounted to him that after he had achieved some initial success, he became careless, chasing perfection for his newfound [Living Corpse Reincarnation-jutsu], filled with excitement. And then he was noticed by the Hokage. The Hokage was already wary of him, but Orochimaru's excitement had led to the mistake of not being subtle while kidnapping individuals for experiments.
Tatsuma pondered and understood the reason behind the sudden capture of someone as intelligent and cautious as Orochimaru.
Orochimaru looked at Tatsuma and told him he would take care of this Ryu kid when he found the time.
"I need to capture this boy alive," Orochimaru thought. "But before that, I need to finish my current projects."
Tatsuma thought, "This is big. I need to tell Sensei."
Orochimaru could almost read his thoughts. He told Tatsuma, "Tell Danzo if he plans to betray me, then it will be the biggest mistake of his life. I will someday kill Sensei; if he wants to become Hokage someday, he better choose wisely. By the way…"
Orochimaru gave a wicked smile and continued, "How is his new right hand? Tell him … His immortality only lasts for a few seconds. Any seasoned S-rank like me can deal with him, so don't go overconfident."
Ryu was confined to the hospital, as Tsunade had not yet approved his discharge. So Ryu decided to play doctor. As an official medical apprentice under Tsunade herself, with credentials to prove it, he wasn't just a curious observer; he had a legitimate, albeit unconventional, reason to be there.
With time on his hands, Ryu decided to put his unique talents to use. He began to wander the halls as a self-appointed medical consultant.
The attending physicians, recognising him as Tsunade's newest apprentice, humoured him with a mixture of awe and apprehension. They'd heard the whispers, the outlandish tales of talents in the medical community, so they let him do consulting. So, when he approached a patient's room, doctors would usually nod, stepping aside and seeing his diagnosis.
His first few "consultations" were straightforward, simple diagnoses that confirmed the existing medical assessments, perhaps offering a minor refinement to the treatment plan. It was good practice, a way to keep his mind sharp, even if the cases weren't particularly challenging.
Then came the patient in Room 307. An elderly man named Osamu, a retired fisherman who had lost his left arm in a naval skirmish many years ago. For months, Osamu had been suffering from excruciating pain, a burning, aching sensation in a limb that no longer existed.
He had been using potent rice wine as self-medication, a desperate measure to alleviate the constant pain. This self-medication had, in turn, strained his relationships with his worried family and was now causing him liver problems, complicating his already baffling medical case.
The medical staff, conventional in their approach, had tried various pain medications, but nothing had offered more than fleeting relief. The medical staff were puzzled by his ongoing pain despite the absence of a visible physical injury.
Ryu had already reviewed Osamu's medical chart off-screen, absorbing every detail of his baffling condition. Now, he stepped into the room, his gaze keenly observing Osamu. He noticed not just his physical symptoms but also the subtle clenching of his jaw, the deep lines of suffering etched around his eyes, and the telltale scent of fermented rice—clear signs of prolonged pain, sadness, and alcohol abuse. He sat by the bedside.
"Mister," Ryu began, his voice calm and reassuring, "I understand you're experiencing a great deal of discomfort in your missing arm. But thinking away your life is not a solution."
The man, named Osamu, grunted, his eyes bloodshot. "Discomfort? It feels like it's still there, young man! And it's on fire! Nothing they give me helps. Only the drink… it takes the edge off." He gestured vaguely with his remaining hand.
The attending physician, a kind-faced doctor with spectacles, spoke up. "We've tried everything, apprentice. Analgesics, even some of the stronger sedatives. His pain is incredibly stubborn, almost… imagined." He shook his head in frustration.
Ryu nodded. "Indeed. The pain isn't originating from a physical wound but from the brain's continued interpretation of signals from a limb that no longer exists. It's a disconnect, a misfiring of neural pathways. The brain remembers the limb and tries to process its existence, leading to what we call 'phantom limb pain'."
The medical staff were unfamiliar with this term, leading to murmurs and bewildered looks among them. He then addressed Osamu directly. "The alcohol only numbs your perception temporarily. It doesn't fix the underlying issue. In fact, it makes it worse in the long run by interfering with your body's natural healing and regulation. Your family worries, and your body is struggling."
The spectacle-wearing doctor looked surprised. "Phantom pain? We've considered a form of psychological trauma, but the term 'phantom limb pain' is new to us. And a neurological misfiring… how would one treat such a thing?"
"Ah, but this isn't merely a sustained phantom sensation," Ryu explained, a subtle glint in his eye. "This uncle has developed what's known as a 'neuromatrix dysfunction', where the brain's internal map of the body is so deeply ingrained that it actively generates the sensation of pain, even without peripheral input. The duration of his condition, combined with his self-medication, suggests a deeper psychological component exacerbating the neurological one."
Osamu blinked, trying to parse the complex words. "Neuro-what-now? Son, are you speaking in riddles, or is that some fancy ninja talk?"
Ryu chuckled. "Think of it this way, mister. Your brain is a very powerful, but sometimes stubborn, mapmaker. It still thinks your arm is there, and it's sending distress signals because it can't find it. We're going to trick your brain into updating its map. I will return with some preparations. Just bear with me a little longer."
Osamu sighed, a deep, weary sound. "Do whatever you like, young man. Just make it stop."
Ryu nodded, then stepped out of Osamu's room. In the hallway, he addressed the gathered doctors. "I will need some untreated wood, saw blades, and several large, clear mirrors. The larger, the better."
The doctors exchanged confused glances. "Wood? Saw blades? Mirrors?" one young intern muttered.
They watched, bewildered, as Ryu, with surprising deftness, began to assemble a contraption right there in the ward. He meticulously cut and joined pieces of wood to create a box-like structure, carefully slotting mirrors into specific positions. To maintain the illusion for Osamu, Ryu kept the mirror trick a secret from him, using blinds and strategically placed cloths around the device to make it appear as a simple, custom-built exercise apparatus, not a 'trick'.
The other doctors watched, utterly perplexed, their murmurs growing louder as the strange device took shape. "What in the world is he building? This isn't medical equipment!" they wondered, but none dared interrupt his intense focus. Ryu was inventing 'mirror therapy' right before their eyes, a concept entirely new to a world where Genjutsu offered a direct, if temporary, solution to such neurological conundrums. No one had bothered to find a simpler, non-chakra-based solution when illusions could be cast directly.
Finally, Ryu revealed his creation: a box with a central partition containing a mirror. He then quickly explained the concept of 'mirror therapy' to the bewildered medical staff. "This is a technique called 'mirror therapy' that manipulates visual input to retrain the brain's perception of a missing limb. It's a non-invasive way to address phantom pain without relying on constant medication or advanced Genjutsu."
He returned to Osamu's room, accompanied by the gaggle of curious doctors. He sat by Osamu's bedside. "Alright, Osamu-san," Ryu said. He then removed Osamu's blindfold but strategically covered Osamu's actual left arm with a cloth, ensuring he could only see the reflection of his right hand in the mirror, creating the illusion of two hands.
Osamu's eyes widened, staring at the reflection. "My... my arm! It's there!" he gasped, a tremor of disbelief and awe in his voice. "It's a miracle!"
Ryu offered a knowing smile. "Indeed, mister. A miracle of the mind." He then continued, "Now, I want you to slowly clench and unclench both your hands and feel them. See if both feel real."
Osamu, sceptical but desperate, followed the instructions. He watched the reflected image of his hand, trying to synchronise the movement with the phantom limb. After a few minutes, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. "It… it feels… different," he murmured, his brow less furrowed. "Less… painful… no pain at all."
At that moment, Osamu felt as if he had found his soul back. The pain he was shouldering was all gone now. Tears welled in his eyes, streaming down his weathered cheeks as he looked at Ryu.
"Thank you, young man," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you! You've given me my life back!"
Ryu gently patted Osamu's shoulder. "It's your own mind that's doing the healing, mister. I'm just showing it the way."
##PoWeR StOnEs##
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