“Of course she did.” Genma suppressed a sigh. He’d just had a conversation with Katsuko about stepping up and being more of a leader, and he was fairly certain Kakashi had left the room in no mood for boundary transgressions. “Is there going to be blood in the hallway when we leave here? If either one of them make their injuries worse…” He left the threat unsaid.

“I told 'em not to kill each other,” Ryouma said. “They were gonna wait for me, but I didn't know how long this'd take, so we're meeting at Akimichi Barbecue in two hours.” As he said the words, Ryouma’s animated expression turned awkward and unsure. “I didn't think you'd want to come. Sorry.” He bit his lip. “It's kind of a long walk.”

“Heh.” Genma shook his head and half-smiled. “Don’t dig yourself a hole here. There’s no way I’d want to eat dinner with the officer who just gave me my first performance review, either. You guys need to go debrief each other over beers and barbecue.”

He’d covered for it, but it was a little disappointing to be left out, even if logic told him exactly why he had been. Everyone on the team were age-mates. In another few years they would probably all be peers again, either as ANBU officers or regular jounin and special jounin. In fact, given both Kakashi’s and Ryouma’s potentials — if Ryouma could get around his issue with reading and Kakashi could learn to navigate interpersonal interactions — there was every chance the future had their roles reversed, with Genma the subordinate.

The image of Kakashi or Ryouma in the Hokage’s hat was… either alarming or amusing. And Katsuko in it— Genma hastily ate a piece of sushi.

Ryouma took a drink of his tea, looking relieved. “Yeah, exactly. Katsuko was looking really good when she came out — it must've been good news.” That was a much more finessed effort at fishing for information about the others’ reviews than Kakashi’s had been. Proving Genma’s point about the ‘learn social skills’ plan for Kakashi.

“And—” Ryouma’s eyes lit with hope. “I'm really gonna start medic training? I can tell them that?”

“You can tell them anything you feel comfortable telling them,” Genma said. “You can even show them your copy of your review if you want. And they can show you theirs, if they want.” Ryouma would be savvy enough to pick up on the hidden ‘no, I’m not going to tell you what I said to your senpai.’

“But yes. You are really going to start medic training. I’m glad you still want to.”

“I'm glad you still want me to. Even after — everything.” Ryouma waved an open hand at himself and the review form with its accusations of instability. The doubt in his voice was plain, but he papered it over with a smile. “I did a pretty good job on your nose, didn't I? You can't even tell it was broken.”

“Except for the tanuki eyes,” Genma agreed. Because he’d seen himself in a mirror and those under-eye bruises were not pretty, even a week later. “The doc here had to straighten it a little more on the inside, but you definitely saved me from disfigurement. That’s what a field medic does: treats the minor injuries and stabilizes the major ones so the patient gets to the hospital alive and treatable.” He smiled at Ryouma, hoping it was encouraging despite the bruises. “Technically you already started your training.”

Ryouma's answering grin came quickly. “Well yeah, it'd be a shame to leave that face disfigured. Had to do something.”

Ryouma flirted all the time. It was his defense mechanism. He’d flirt with a lamppost if the lamppost had made him even a little uncomfortable.

It still brought a flush of heat to Genma’s chest — he hoped it didn’t show on his face.