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Overwhelmed by every little thing; Torn apart, unraveled at the seams; I think it’s rooted in the way I breathe...

Shuichi always wanted to help people. As a kid, he would rush over whenever someone got hurt on the playground and try to patch them up with leaves and sticks, mimicking what he’d seen his physician parents do. As an adolescent, he was always the first to volunteer to help his classmates or to show the new students around the schoolyard. As a teen, he volunteered with the school nurse on top of his student council responsibilities, helping out around the clinic and at sports events. As a young adult, he graduated top of his class and was an early applicant to some of the best medical schools in Japan.
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Yes, Shuichi always wanted to help people, always wanted to be a support, a friend, a go-to. He wanted to live up to the long, impressive shadow cast by his parents, both famed Japanese medical officials. He always wanted to be better, always wanted to do his best, always wanted to be someone his little sister could look up to.
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And then he hit medical school.
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And he realized how bad he was at dealing with real, in-your-face stress.
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And so Shuichi Morita, prodigal son of the Morita medical clan, moved through his MD program with a smile on his face, a cheery disposition, and an ever-growing need for excessive validation and pills to numb his stress. Self-prescription is a hell of a drug and it didn't take long for addiction to kick in, Shuichi's practiced eye catching the signs but being helpless to stop it.
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What made it worse was the proposition the elder Drs. Morita brought to him when he’d finally graduated. Apparently the family business included far more than just serving the public; Papa and Mama Morita had joined up with the Aijiwau, working as narcotic suppliers and medically-licensed torturers for the elites they wined and dined at all of those grand parties during his childhood. And of course Shuichi said yes, of course he agreed to join in the “fun,” because he’s a helper, a pleaser, an anxiety-riddled mess with enough knowledge of the human anatomy to keep a high-ranking politician alive while they chase the dragon and an Aijiwau traitor fully cognizant and aware of the torture being administered to him as punishment.
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And so the anxiety has gotten worse, the narcotic abuse with it, Shuichi’s form constantly filled with some horrific cocktail of debilitating self-doubt, nerve-wracking guilt, and the constant need for verbal confirmation that he’s not a disappointing failure. He hates what he does and he hates what he does to people, but he’s better at it than most, and what wasted potential he would be if he used those skills for anything else.
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Appearance Notes

Height: 5'9"
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Eye Color: Emerald green
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Hair Color: A dyed salmon, some half-way point between pink and orange