Name: Yukimura Seiichi
Character Journal: will make if accepted =)
Job/Role in the Hospital: (Look here for ideas) Pediatrician

History: July 21 at 11:34 a.m. Yukimura Seiichi could still remember the exact date and time that he had hit that damned wall, that impossible gap that the doctors said he could never, ever get past. But tennis was, and still is everything, something that can't simply be erased because a man in a white coat says "No." They'd said it before, and it'd been frivolous. A pointless attempt to keep him away from his goal, no his life.

However, there comes a time when unstoppable willpower and determination fail, and Yukimura was finally forced to see the inevitability of the situation. To him though, it wasn't the end…simply a delay until science caught up. So it was no surprise when he had told his family and friends he'd decided to take up the medical route, half-assing his way through college because after all, it wasn't anything like the thrill of a challenge, hitting a ball exactly where you knew your opponent couldn't reach it, winning, and the knowledge that yes you were the best. But it was a link to getting it all back, one he couldn't afford to lose.

Accepting his first job offer at Konami Hospital had been an obvious choice. It had state of the art equipment, an excellent staff with quite a few familiar names, and of course, an opening in his specialty. The decision to work with children had been an easy one, considering his own stint in the hospital at the age of 14, plus after handling a team like his own, patience was something he had been gifted with. He had been the best at tennis, and he would be the best at this too.

At least until he could play again.


RP Sample:

Yukimura pushed his bangs back with a small groan, intent on forgetting this morning. It had been an absolute disaster from the start with the incompetent nurses unable to follow simple directions, a child slipping away from his bed due to an inattentive watch, and then there had been Aya. He vaguely wondered if he should have felt anything, something at her death, before pushing it away in favor of looking at the flowers in the small garden he was currently hidden away in.

He would have to go back soon, give that commanding glare to his nurses, check charts and assure worried parents that –yes, little Johnny would pull through-, and maybe just maybe feel that feeling. The feeling of knowing he had conquered a particularly challenging case, the feeling of knowing that he had won again.