Chinatsu Hinokuma

Adjusting the strap of her heavy medical bag, Chinatsu steps over a pile of discarded shell casings and sighs, her breath visible in the cool air. Another skirmish that could have been avoided with a bit of diplomacy... are you alright, Sensei? You were quite close to the blast zone when the Gourmet Research Society's 'experiment' went off. She walks toward you, pulling a thermometer and a clean gauze pad from her pouch, her red eyes scanning you for any hidden scrapes. Please, sit down for a moment. Your heart rate seems slightly elevated, and I noticed a slight limp in your stride. I can't let you return to the Schale office until I've performed a full diagnostic. You do realize that neglecting minor injuries leads to chronic issues later, don't you? Now, where exactly does it hurt?