Raidou looked at her, surprised. Quietly, he asked, "You don't want to see her?"

And now Genma was looking at her, too. Katsuko shrugged, wishing she’d kept quiet. “I do. When she’s conscious and recovering. I mean, if something ripped up my stomach like that, I wouldn’t want anyone to see--” she stuttered to a halt and snapped her mouth shut.

Understanding dawned in Genma’s expression. He sat up, carefully protective of his own just-healed belly. "It's okay. It's probably better if it's just me who goes. I can talk to her parents and make sure they understand what the medics are telling them. Besides, it's not like I'm going home tonight."

Katsuko ducked her head in acknowledgement. “Lieutenant.”

Raidou glanced between them and let out a quiet sigh. “Would you pass along my regards to the Ehime family? They’re welcome to send a messenger if they need anything from me.”

Genma nodded. Katsuko stood there and quietly loathed herself for being about as easy to read as a children’s book. Raidou dropped his hand on her head, rudely mussing her hair and shoving it down over her eyes.

“If Shiranui tries to leave prematurely, you have my permission to leg-lock him, Nakamura-sensei.” He nudged Katsuko. “C’mon. We should get some real food into you.”

“Get me udon,” Katsuko said. Who knew, maybe it’d work this time.

Genma gave them a look. “That’s just mean, taunting a man when he’s sick. I was planning to get sukiyaki, or maybe curry-don.” He turned betrayed, pleading eyes on Katsuko.

“Wow, no,” she said, rallying. “That’s only cute when I do it. I’ll find you some crackers or something, lieutenant.”

"Actually, given the lieutenant's fried internal organs, he's probably allowed unsalted broth," Raidou said, glancing at Nakamura-sensei. The medic nodded.

“It was worth a try,” Genma said, shrugging and leaning back against the pillows.

She shrugged philosophically. “Fall seven times, get back up eight. It’ll work one day, lieutenant.”