“He's a chakra drain,” Ryouma said, sounding equal parts fond and annoyed. “Neither of us should be keeling over any time soon, though.” He ruffled Kakashi’s filthy wet hair and stood up, a little stiff on his braced knee.

“That’s the coil damage,” Genma said. “As long as he’s stable for the moment, let’s make sure you’re safe to send off to the showers.”

When Genma started to stand, Ryouma waved him down and came around to Genma’s side of the platform. An assortment of shallow cuts and bruises littered Ryouma’s skin, but the only serious injury was the shoulder laceration that Genma’d healed hastily in the middle of the fight. It was red and raised, with striated lines radiating away from the wound—a hallmark of forced rapid healing.

“How’s your shoulder motion?” Genma asked. “Can you lift your arm over your head without any issue?”

Ryouma obliged him by raising his left arm. “Pulls a little.” He reached up to grab his elbow with his other hand and tug the arm further into a stretch. “But it's not painful. Stiffness might just be from backpacking Hound. He's heavier than he looks.”

Genma didn’t doubt that. By the time everyone had cooled down and rested for a while, and exhausted muscles had gotten a chance to stiffen up, all of Team Six would probably be hobbling around like grey-haired grandparents.

Grandparents. Tsuto’s elderly parents asleep on twinned futon. The grandmother’s blood staining yellow silk. The old man’s eyes snapping wide as Genma’s blade touched his throat, and gnarled hands, stiff with arthritis, scrabbling at Genma’s arm in a desperate, futile gesture. He blinked the image away.

“Lieutenant?”

“Your breathing,” Genma said, ignoring the question. “How’s your chest? I’m not hearing any wheeze and you seem to be breathing okay, but I know I wasn’t gentle pulling the blood out of your lungs.”

Raidou’s head snapped around.

Ryouma pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum, focus turning inward. “Lungs seem clear,” he reported. “Didn't have any problems on the run, and I wasn't coughing like with the demon-rot. My throat's still a little sore.”

“That’ll wear off,” Genma told him, relieved. With Ryouma in good shape, he could send him to shower and stop worrying about at least one of the ninja in his care. “Go take a shower. A long one.” He couldn’t smell much of anything through his damaged nose, but he didn’t doubt the reek of putrefaction still clung to Ryouma’s skin and hair. “Get one of Ueno’s clones to heat the water for you.”

Ryouma gave him a wry look. “Guess it’s a good idea to wait until my hands are clean before we try to get your nose working again.” He glanced around at the handful of idle clones who hovered at the edge of the room. “Volunteer?”

All three of them immediately leapt up, scrabbling at each other in a vicious elbow fight. The chaos ended abruptly when two of them bamphed out of existence, leaving the victor smiling broadly at Ryouma.

Ryouma knelt to grab his utility belt from a small pile of his discarded gear. He tossed a cheeky, pleased look at the rest of the room before he left to follow the winning clone to the bathroom.

Genma stared after them and sighed. Maybe it was personal.

Katsuko lifted her head from the blanket nest. “It's not that you don't have a nice butt, lieutenant,” she said drowsily. “It's just that Ryouma's butt can't make me run laps if it catches me looking at it.” There was a long pause. “I didn't say that.”

It was probably a measure of how tired Genma was that it took him as long as it did to chuckle. “I can accept that,” he told her. He twisted around on the communal bed and tried to kneel next to Kakashi, but his leg was having none of that. It took some awkward shifting, but he eventually found a position that let him keep his leg extended and still gave him the proximity and leverage he needed to work on Kakashi.

“Get my med kit,” he told his clone. While it turned to do as he asked, he laid three careful fingers at the angle of Kakashi’s bruised and bandaged throat. Pulse was slow and even, breathing regular, and chakra… Chakra was still a mess, but the fresh transfusion from Ryouma was palpable and strong. “Alright, Hatake. You in there? This will be easier if you wake up a little and can talk to me.”