| [May. 22nd, 2017|02:26 am] |
“What about burns?” Kakashi asked Genma.
Genma grimaced. “Healing burns is even harder than healing bruises. Little ones aren’t bad, like a cigarette burn maybe, but anything bigger is advanced medicine. Field medic can only try to keep the patient from tanking until a full team can treat them.”
An old scar twinged on Kakashi’s hip, the memory of long-ago fire curling around the bone. Burns had always made Rin swear.
“How advanced are you planning to get?” Raidou asked curiously.
“Me or Tousaki?” Genma asked.
“Both, I guess.”
Genma shrugged. “I might go for my Grade Four certificate. I like what I do now, though. I’m not looking for a career change.”
Ryouma glanced at Genma, then looked down at his hand. His knuckles were pale around his chopsticks. “I just don’t want to watch someone bleed out on me again.”
Genma put his hand on Ryouma’s bare forearm, fingers light and careful. Beneath the table, Kin caught the change in scent and laid her head on Ryouma’s feet.
Fukuda was another sting in the world, sharper for being fresh. It was a strange thing to mourn her, but three men at this table had been there when she’d died. One had eased the road.
And Ryouma had a wish that gods would laugh at, if they existed.
Pakkun leapt onto Raidou’s lap, balanced his front paws delicately on the table, and stole every scrap of meat off Raidou’s plate in one slobbery mouthful.
“Hey,” Raidou said, startled.
Pakkun licked his chops. “You know what this needs? Beer.”
Genma stared for a silent, incredulous moment, and then fell into laughter that seemed to surprise him just as much as the rest of them. “Hair of the dog—” he managed, before he became too breathless to speak.
Ryouma, never one to miss an opportunity even in the midst of a grey moment, said, “I’ll get it!” He jumped up to find a server before Raidou could rein him in.
Kakashi snorted softly. Pakkun dug his hind paws into Raidou’s thigh and commanded the grilling of more meat, which dissolved Genma all over again. Raidou, to Kakashi’s surprise, did not punt Pakkun over the table; he pulled a clean plate over for himself, abandoning the slobbered one for Pakkun, and laid more beef on the grill. Pakkun’s curly tail wagged.
Ryouma returned a minute later with six frosted bottles and two bowls. He popped the caps with the edge of a kunai, poured a bowl of beer for Pakkun, and dangled the other bottle questioningly in front of Kin. She wrinkled her nose.
“Water?” Ryouma guessed.
Kin’s long, fringed tail swept the ground. Ryouma set a bowl of cold water in front of her, and thumped the other bottles cheerfully down around the table.
Raidou raised both eyebrows.
“We finished training and nobody’s got classes today,” Ryouma said.
Kakashi didn’t point out that they’d started late and finished early.
“Oh fine,” Raidou said.
Ryouma gave a little victorious fist-pump, sat down, and clinked his bottle against Kakashi’s. On the other side of the round wooden table, Genma sat back in his chair, pink in the cheeks and looking pleased with everything, and took a bottle to knock against Raidou’s. “To successful team-bonding exercises.”
“Cheers,” said Pakkun, and jammed his entire face in his bowl.
Ryouma and Raidou threw back their beers, both of them tanned and sweat-soaked, streaked with dried mud. They wouldn’t have looked out of place hammering shingles onto roofs, or doing anything else that brought them early summer sun and hard work. Genma, a leaner, finer creature between them, sipped his beer and sat at ease, fondness glinting in the gold of his eyes.
Pakkun glanced up with froth dripping from his jowls, and tipped Kakashi a subtle wink.
Well, he’d gotten plenty of practice derailing Kakashi’s darker moods over the last ten years. A handful of older, bloodier boys was hardly more of a challenge. |
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