| [Dec. 22nd, 2013|05:16 am] |
Toushiro-sensei—assuming that was the razor-thin, bespectacled man in the regrettable cardigan and drawstring pyjama pants—turned a glare on Kakashi like the inside of a black hole, green eyes narrowing to slits.
Kakashi took a step back. “Sliced,” he corrected. “Not stabbed. And just a little.”
“It’s four in the morning,” Toushiro-sensei said.
Katsuko rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry about that,” she said, sounding genuine. She offered hopefully: “But we don’t need many stitches?”
“I don’t need any,” Kakashi said. “Just her.”
Toushiro-sensei’s glare completely failed to warm. “I’ll be the judge of that, since you have blood in your hair. Get in here, both of you.”
“You first,” Katsuko said to Kakashi.
“Thanks,” he said sourly, and stepped into the lion’s den.
He’d done a medical evaluation before joining ANBU, but that had been at the hospital with a phalanx of Hyuuga, and had mostly involved veiny-eyed invasions and lots of needles. They’d dinged him for a moderately low iron count, and forced a new abundance of leafy green vegetables into his life, but he’d come through with flying colors otherwise. This office looked more like it belonged to a general practitioner who catered to the irrational and dangerous. Ranks of glittering senbon shared counter-space with otoscopes and cotton swabs. An autoclave lurked in the corner, humming quietly. A heavy desk groaned under the weight of overstuffed files. Medical charts hung on the walls, showing, respectively, the basic anatomy of the nervous system, common effects of STDs, a five-point guide to determining gradients of concussion, and a long, detailed chart listing the fifty most common battlefield poisons.
On the far wall, a dry-erase board had been titled “STUPID LIST”. The first name, Asano Kirito, had a note written next to it: ‘broken tailbone from rough-housing in the shower’.
With increasing fascination, Kakashi read: ‘Uchiha Mutsumi, torn ACL from impact with tree.’ ‘Sunada Yoshiyuki, flash-burns from returning to inspect an unexploded tag.’ ‘Shiranui Genma, self-poisoning from stirring coffee with a poisoned senbon.’ ‘Usagi Ikuyo, three fractured toes from kicking a vending machine.’ ‘Kawagashi Matsuhiko, lacerations from continuing to spar with a broken shinai.’
The last name, Akimichi Bunpei, simply read ‘offended Aburame insects’.
“On the table,” Toushiro-sensei told Katsuko, nodding at the padded examination table that took up the center of the room.
“Have you met Hatake yet?” Katsuko asked, hoisting herself reluctantly onto the table. “He’s one of my rookies.” There was a slight, subtle stress on the word my.
Kakashi tore his attention away from Genma’s name, and raised one eyebrow.
“Of course I know him,” Toushiro-sensei said dismissively. “Team Six. Captain: Namiashi Raidou. Lieutenant: Shiranui Genma. New rookies: Tousaki Ryouma and Hatake Kakashi.” That wasn’t how most people knew Kakashi. How long had Toushiro-sensei been living in his cave? The medic continued, “And you, Ueno, who could get injured falling over a paperclip. You think I don’t do my research? I could recite files in my sleep. Which leg?”
Silently, Katsuko raised her right leg.
Kakashi drifted closer, watching curiously as quick, competent hands peeled away crimson-soaked bandages to reveal a gash like an open purse on the back of Katsuko’s calf. It was a straight-line injury, deep and neat, slicing down to slick red muscle fibres. An easy fix for a good medic, or an awkward stitch job for a soldier in the field. Katsuko looked barely concerned. Toushiro-sensei seemed mostly annoyed.
Kakashi was a little annoyed, too. That kind of injury would barely inconvenience a civilian, let alone a ninja. He hadn’t wanted to cripple Katsuko, but given that he’d hit her, he could’ve at least done a better job of it.
“What was this? Kunai?” Toushiro-sensei asked, settling green-glowing hands over Katsuko’s leg.
“Tanto,” Kakashi said.
Toushiro-sensei glanced at him, then said, “Never mind. I don’t want the full story. our arm is bleeding, Hatake. And your face is bruised.”
“I kicked him,” Katsuko said serenely. “But he’s still pretty with bruises.” |
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