Chakra made the air shiver. Genma’s hands blazed with it, burning through energy he — they — couldn’t afford, attempting some kind of deep healing that was vastly above his paygrade. The tight lines around Fukuda’s eyes had eased, morphine kicking in, but her breathing was only getting faster. Her fingernails were dusky blue.

Genma stopped.

The light faded around his hands. Without looking up, he took another syrette from Raidou’s hand and injected it into Fukuda’s shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open.

Genma shook his head. His voice, when he spoke, was achingly gentle. “I’m sorry, Fukuda-san. Your spleen is ruptured, and you’ve lost a large amount of blood internally. I’ll try to keep you comfortable.”

Kimiko’s expression shattered. “Takedo,” she choked. The tears spilled.

Fukuda groped for her sister’s hand, catching it in a hard grip. Her eyes stayed on Genma, burning, then flicked to Raidou. “Sango.”

“We don’t know,” Raidou said. “Hound’s gone.”

“Your team,” Fukuda grated. “He wouldn’t split.”

“No,” Raidou said. Kakashi wasn’t betraying them to bolt with the valuable kekkai genkai child. If he wasn’t here, there was a good reason. Like someone chasing.

“He’s our fastest runner, and one of our strongest fighters,” Genma said, a thread of tension rippling through his voice. “He’ll keep her safe. We’ll catch up to him.”

Fukuda rasped a laugh. “You won’t. Not in time.” She lifted her eyes to Kimiko’s face, and then her hand, cupping her palm over the tears streaking down Kimiko’s cheek. “Go with them. They’ll treat you well. Sango…” She paused, gathering breath. “She’ll grow up strong. Unafraid.”

Now Kimiko’s hands were shaking. “Takedo… Don’t… You have to come with us. You have to. I can’t do this without you. Sango needs you. Neechan…” She grabbed Genma’s shoulder with a sudden, violent movement that made Raidou twitch. Her grip nearly ripped the shirt from his neck. “Heal her! You have to heal her! Why aren’t you trying to heal her?”

Low and urgent, Ryouma said, “Lieutenant, you can’t just let her go— Can’t you drain it? We’ve got blood pills, if it’s chakra you need I can transfuse you—”

Genma shook his head sharply. Ryouma subsided. Taking Kimiko’s wrists, Genma freed her hands from his shirt and guided them back down to her sister. “This isn’t something I can heal. I’m sorry, I really am. Even if we were at a hospital with the best equipment and doctors right now, it might be impossible. Out here… Blood pills can’t make up for this degree of blood loss. It wouldn’t matter how much chakra I poured in.”

He returned his attention to Fukuda, focusing on his patient above everything else. “How’s your pain?”

She bared her filed teeth. “Doesn’t matter. Sango doesn’t have time.” Her hand still cupped her sister’s cheek, but her stump twitched, as if she was reaching for Genma. “You started this, Shiranui. End it.”