Genma watched the village doctor, Namura-sensei, and her assistant as they inspected Katsuko’s broken collarbone, set it into place, and strapped her arm to her chest. With basic medical care, at least, Namura-sensei seemed comfortable. Until Katsuko could get the broken bone chakra-healed, the setting and binding was as good a job as Genma could have done himself. They cleaned and re-bandaged the bite on her shoulder that he’d partly healed for her after their first encounter with the demons. The wounds had opened again where they’d been deepest, a testament to how hard she’d pushed herself and how much punishment she’d taken in those later battles.

When Katsuko was taken care of, they turned to Raidou, whose own bandages were stained red. He waved them off in favor of Ryouma. “My team first,” he told the doctor, and shot Genma a look before Genma could even open his mouth to argue.

“If you’re in decent shape, you could give me a head start by taking a shower and cleaning yourself up a little,” Namura said. She pointed towards a sliding door across the room. “Your man in the dog mask knows the way.”

Kakashi, who had seated himself on the floor next to Ryouma and Katsuko’s bed, mirrored the doctor’s gesture, pointing out the same door.

“Thanks,” said Raidou dryly. He crossed the room, then turned back. “Shout if you need me.”

Kakashi touched his left shoulder in a lazy salute that might have been insubordination, but judging by the way his chakra signature was wavering, was probably genuine fatigue.

“You keeping alright there?” Namura asked Kakashi.

He turned his masked face up to her and nodded once.

“Alright. Going to work on your other friend here a minute.”

“He’s got a head injury,” Genma said. “Make sure he’s rousable.”

“I’ve seen a few bumps on the head in my life, ANBU-san,” she said, waving a hand at him. “Save your energy for yourself.”

“He generates energy by nagging,” Kakashi murmured, just loud enough for Genma’s fever-sharpened ears to pick up.

Namura chuckled. “Proves he’s a medic,” she said, turning her attention to Ryouma. “I need to see his eyes,” she told Kakashi. “I know you’d prefer to keep your faces hidden, but this is important.” Heavy-jointed fingers reached for Ryouma’s mask.

Kakashi’s gloved arm shot out; his hand wrapped around her wrist, drawing a startled yelp from the woman. “His pupils were even three hours ago. No change in the shower,” he told her.

She glanced at Genma, appealing for him to override, perhaps?

“He stays masked,” Genma said. “I trust Hound’s assessment.”

Namura’s lips thinned, but she nodded. “As you wish.” Her fingers combed through Ryouma’s damp hair, pausing when she presumably found the knot where he’d struck his head. “The skin’s not broken,” she said. “And I don’t feel any fractures.” She looked at Kakashi. “When you had his mask off were his eyes black and blue? And did he bleed from the ears or nose at all when he got hit?”

“I didn’t see him get hit,” Kakashi said. “But no, his eyes aren’t bruised, and he wasn’t bleeding. He didn’t seem confused.” He shrugged his shoulders stiffly, probably feeling a thousand aches and bruises now that he’d finally stopped moving. “If his skull’s fractured, he’s dealing with it better than any ninja in history.”

“What can I call him?” Namura asked.

“Ram-san,” Kakashi told her.

Genma was surprised he hadn’t said, ‘Buttercup’.

She nodded and gently shook Ryouma’s shoulder. “Ram-san, open your eyes. Wake up for me for a minute, please.”

Worryingly, Ryouma didn’t respond at all.

Katsuko did, muttering a low string of unintelligible but probably obscene suggestions about what the medic and everyone else could do with themselves, and pulling the blanket over her head.

Namura unfolded the blankets from Ryouma altogether and rubbed her knuckles against his sternum. “Shinobi-san. Ram-san. Can you hear me?”

He didn’t even twitch.

Ryouma was a heavy sleeper, and he was recovering from a near-toxic dose of soldier pills and a catastrophically low chakra level, but even knowing that, Genma’s heart felt icy in his too-hot chest. There were worse things than skull fractures for a man with a head injury, especially in a ninja whose clotting ability was impaired by soldier pills.