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[Aug. 23rd, 2014|03:56 am]

shiranui_genma
There seemed to be something Ryouma wasn’t saying, but Genma wasn’t operating at the top of his game, and he couldn’t puzzle it out. Raidou unlocked the cell door and helped Genma get into an awkward one-legged crouch on the floor next to his patient.

A quick exam was reassuring on several counts. Her chakra was steady, her pulse strong and even, and her fever not nearly the crisis he’d feared. Ryouma passed over Genma’s med kit when he asked for it. “She’s not septic after all,” Genma judged. “Tousaki, if I missed an edge of rot from your jutsu when I did the amputation, would that account for the fever?”

“If you missed an edge of rot, she'd be missing her shoulder and half her chest by now,” Ryouma said, with dry finality. He leaned against the wall, arms still folded, keeping his distance from the cell but watching the prisoner like a viper. “I got some water and four of those pills for fever into her, maybe half an hour ago. She was lucid then.” Before Genma could respond, Ryouma’s tone sharpened into derision. “You're not fooling anybody, Kiri.”

The woman’s eyes pressed briefly tighter, but she gave no other sign of engaging.

“That’s fine, you keep faking. If I were in your shoes, I’d pretend I was unconscious, too,” Genma told her. She maintained her façade. He looked up at Ryouma. “You give her another hit of morphine, too?”

Ryouma shook his head. “Didn't know the dosage, or what she'd had already. Lanced some localized infection on the wound, though, and smeared some of that antibiotic ointment on.” His gaze locked onto the clean, bandaged stump. “Doesn't look like it's leaked through.”

Genma inspected it, too, and found the wound clean and the bandages dry. He dug a vial of strong antibiotics out of his kit and piggybacked it onto the IV keeping the prisoner hydrated. Then he counted remaining morphine syrettes, grimacing at the number they’d gone through already. But pain could kill, too. He injected her, clipped the spent syrette to her collar, and signalled Raidou to help him back up and out of the cell. “You did a good job,” he told Ryouma. “I should let you do my bandages next.”

Ryouma tugged his eyes away from Fukuda with a start, like he hadn’t quite realized Genma was speaking to him. “Wha—? Oh. Thanks.” His cheeks and the tops of his ears darkened faintly, and he glanced guiltily down at Genma’s swollen leg. “D'you need help now?”

“Yeah,” Genma said. “This one’s too tight and probably pretty bloody. Good thing the bunker had medical supplies, given the rate we’re going through gauze.”

“You mean you didn't pack half Konoha hospital in that medkit of yours?” Ryouma said. He might have been trying for light-hearted, but it came out a little strained.

“I did, but we used it already,” Genma told him. He grimaced at his own neglect as Ryouma helped him to his feet and out of the cell; he’d meant to check in on his unsettled rookie on the way back from Ibaragashi—the mission had clearly shaken Ryouma—but the encounter with the Mist team had shattered that plan, and he’d never picked up the pieces.

Maybe there would be a moment soon, once the rest of the team was back in bed.
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