Private Finished The trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close-up

"Interesting," Yoka said, both because it was interesting and because that was something that her club most likely wasn't spelled against. She'd want to quiz him about this, as he worked for her, to make sure she could prevent anyone else with comparative abilities from just wandering in whenever they wanted. While she expressed it as a business thing, for Yoka, it was really a privacy thing. She wanted the men, women, and nonbinary folk who worked for her to be safe.

Yoka had another relevant question.

"Is there a limit to your healing?" she asked. "While the injuries here are usually physical and minor, I always prepare for the worst, and that would be a serious or life-threatening injury."

Yoka's face was calm save for a minor twitch to her left eye that passed as quickly as it came.

"The following question is also a worse case scenario: what about multiple injured people at once?"

She wanted to reassure him that this wasn't common place. there hadn't been a disaster in the cross fox since the late 1800's. Yoka wanted to keep it that way.

Yoka jotted this down as well.

Blood.

She had a little my chemical romance jingle stuck in her head.

Blood, Blood, Gallons of the stuff.

She didn't shake her head, but she desperately wanted it out of her mind. She took a moment to jot a few more notes down on her clipboard, and then she decided she needed to reassure him. Just in case. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea of the place.

"I have not had an accident of any magnitude here in over a century," she explained. "But this is an island filled to the bring with magical people, creatures, entities from other worlds. There is spell craft on this island out the wazoo, and some that's probably been forgotten about."

Yoka shook her head.

"So I cannot predict what will happen in the future. But I want to make sure that the people who work for me have the opportunity to be safe, to be cared for, should something go wrong. It's why I have healers on staff to begin with."

She pulled out a standard business contract and slid it over to him.

"I think you can tell well enough that I'm interested, but before I offer this to you, I want to make sure we can accommodate your needs," she said. "You're a student. I value education. I do not want this to interfere with your learning. We open in the later afternoon and run through at least three am most nights. Are you able to do afternoons and evenings?"

There wasn't anything entirely unusual in the contract. There was a disclaimer about confidentiality, reminding him not to reveal the names, abilities, or species of anyone who worked for her, the standard stuff on a magical island.

Yoka was even more pleased by his time table. She looked at it and nodded, then attached it to his clipboard.

"Thank you," she said, clearly pleased by this. "I have only one other question for you, and it's simple: how many hours a week are you looking for?"

"That's more than I was expecting, but I am very happy and able to accommodate that," Yoka said. She tapped one of her long, painted nails against her lower lip. "I would normally only have one staff healer on hand at a time, but given your abilities to appear as needed, I was wondering...would you also be interested in being on call at my onsen if needed? It would still be during your regular scheduled hours."

Yoka jotted everything down on her clipboard and then she took a glance at the schedule he'd given her. After a few minutes, she had a rotating schedule that gave him staggered days off every two weeks.

"Over twenty hours a week also means you're eligible for our health benefits, should you need them," Yoka explained. "I wouldn't' want to assume that just because you are a healer does not mean you are not sometimes in need of healing yourself. If that is ever the case, I do hope you will take advantage of what we offer."

Yoka sat back in her chair and picked up a drink.

Now, she had one more question.

"What do you think, in your opinion, is the best way to make blueberry pancakes?" she asked.

Yoka loved these questions because it often gave her more of an insight into the kind of person her employees were beyond their work ethic. So his comment about pancakes being a delicacy on Earth opened up several interesting and highly potent areas of conversation. Yoka decided to save most of them for later.

"Pancakes are small, flat cakes made on a hot griddle with relatively few ingredients and for very little money," Yoka explained. "They are most commonly considered a breakfast food. While I would argue they're not commonly considered a delicacy, when you add blueberries or other fruit to them, they become much tastier than the other treat."

Yoka frowned at him for a moment, but it was a mischievous kind of frown, one that expressed more of the idea of displeasure than any actual displeasure.

"Are you telling me you have never had pancakes?"