Genma blew a thoughtful breath. “They’re coping. Rattled, but coping. I’ve followed your advice and tried to keep Tousaki busy, and as far as I can tell it’s working. He’s not happy but he’s not going to pieces. Ueno’s been spending a fair amount of time with him, too, when she’s not getting PT or other treatment. She’s kept it together probably for his sake as much as for her own.”

A look that just skirted the idea of relief crossed Raidou’s face as he exhaled, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Hatake’s harder to read,” Genma continued. “I actually talked to him about your suspension first, before I told the others. I didn’t exactly plan it that way, but I was in his room — I think my nurse was sick to death of me asking for updates, so she got me permission to go travelling. Wheeled me down herself and everything — Anyway, he kind of forced the question. And then I told him I needed his help in breaking the news to the others. I honestly couldn’t tell you why I decided to go that route, but it worked. It got him focused on keeping a more optimistic mindset. The other two showed up not long after that, and when I explained the situation as I understood it, Hatake backed me up.”

Raidou blinked, and blinked again, in naked surprise. “He— Really?”

“Really. I even got him to give me a report on his observations of Ueno and Tousaki before they arrived. And himself. He told me he’d been distressed when they told him you’d been taken away by Intel — that was the first night, when I was still getting my first debriefing right after surgery — and Ueno had yanked him back onto an even keel.”

After a moment of seeming incomprehension, Raidou broke into an absolutely baffled, but very pleased, smile. “Shibata told me my team had faith in me. Actually, the first phrase he used was something like, ‘they think this is bullshit.’”

Genma choked a laugh. “That’s accurate. Tousaki’s phrasing, I believe, but we were all thinking it.” He shook his head. “But seriously, Shibata told you that? You talk about him as if he were… well… not Shibata.”

Although to be fair, what did Genma—or anyone—really know about the director of T&I? Massively scarred war hero, brilliant interrogator, had a loyal following in his department, and the Hokage’s ear. And, evidently, a son who was Kakashi and Ryouma’s fellow rookie in ANBU. But beyond that it was rumor. The kind of rumor that made the baby-killers in ANBU seem like decent human beings.

“It’s almost like he’s on our side,” said Raidou, darkly amused.

There was a hint of chiding there. Not undeserved. “Intellectually I know he is,” Genma said. “And honestly I’m glad he’s on our side. I just—for a disciplinary interview or psych eval, or whatever he did with you—”

“He scared the shit out of me, too,” Raidou said. “I was expecting pliers; I got a comfy couch and mints. Which was really effective, if I’m honest.”

It was Genma’s turn to blink in bewilderment. “That’s honestly the strangest image I have ever conjured,” he said. “I’ve been in the T&I building once or twice to observe an interrogation; I’ve never seen a comfy couch down there.” He paused and looked right at Raidou, who met his gaze. “Are you on the level, Namiashi-taichou? I understand if it’s not something you can tell me about, but seriously— you don’t have to protect me.”