| [Aug. 30th, 2015|10:39 pm] |
Genma waved a hand, dismissing the problem for now. “Not sure what a substitute captain is going to do with us. Tousaki’s the only one who’s mission-fit right now. Medically, anyway.” Ryouma’s mental fitness was a measure Genma still needed to take. Raidou might be the only member of Team Six forced into trauma counseling, but he probably wasn’t the only one who could benefit from a session or two.
But that, too, was a problem for later. Right now, Raidou was here, in the office, looking sharp in what were probably a newer set of jounin blues. The fabric of the trousers was still a little stiff-looking, and the deep blue-black of the turtleneck unfaded. Only his vest and hitai-ate showed their age. He was freshly shaven with no hair out of place. Clearly he’d scrubbed up for his meeting with the Hokage. His face had the relieved, weary look of a man who had crossed a trackless desert for days and finally found water. The lines creasing the corners of his eyes were just a little deeper, his mouth a little firmer set. The bruises on his cheek and jaw had paled to yellow-brown, and the scrapes were small dots of brick-colored scab. Only his hands were still bandaged, but there was no blood seeping through at the knuckles this time.
And he had, as he’d said, all his fingernails.
For an unguarded moment, Genma had an impulse to give him a hug. Instead he reached for an empty cup on the corner of his desk, wiped it down for dust, then filled it with tea. “Here,” he said, offering the cup to Raidou. “Welcome back, taichou. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.”
Amusement crinkled Raidou’s eyes. “Were the kids that bad?”
“They were good,” Genma said. “Tousaki did the team’s laundry with Ueno’s help. And he’s met with me daily to go over mission logs and his training schedule. Ueno’s checked in, too, and she’s seemed on top of things. And Hatake was in the hospital where he couldn’t get into any trouble until yesterday. He was released just a few hours before me, actually.” He waved a hand at a red logbook on top of his filing cabinet. “He actually did those training reports I’d assigned him, although I doubt even the best cryptanalyst in Intel could decipher them.”
Raidou set his tea aside and leaned across the gap between their desks to snag the logbook. His eyebrows crept higher and higher as he scanned each page. “Was he still on painkillers?”
“I had the same question,” Genma said. “And nope. I got a look at his medical record — I was on stronger stuff than he was. This is all Hatake.” He took a sip of his tea. “I plan to make him do them over.”
“Good plan.” Raidou nodded amused approval and returned the book to its place on the file cabinet. He leaned back on his hands and leveled a penetrating look at Genma. “How are they doing otherwise?” |
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