"I'm not being stupid," Natsumi said stiffly. "And I'm not hurt." Well, not badly. She still couldn't lift her left arm above her shoulder, but the soreness would fade with time. And aside from being fantastically and treacherously colorful, the other bruises weren't a problem. "I told you, Kaito got there in time." She twitched her hand toward the hot sauce bottle. Ibiki's fingers tightened.

"It isn't straight," Natsumi said.

His grip didn't loosen.

She reached up left-handed, nudged the bottle into perfect alignment, and managed not to wince as the banked fire over her shoulderblade flared up into new life. The sudden stillness of her face gave her away, anyway. Ibiki's eyes darted to her sleeved arm. She sighed, and dropped it back to her lap.

"He got a kick in on my shoulder. Nothing's broken, but I couldn't use my arm for ten or fifteen minutes afterwards, and it's still painful. Maybe your medic friend would be a good idea, after all." Kaito had mentioned the same man, hadn't he? If even Ibiki recommended him, he had to be good.

But a player?

She tipped her head, thinking it over. "If I asked him to look at my shoulder, I'd probably have to take my shirt off." Her thoughtful frown edged sideways, verging on a grin. "Are you sure that wouldn't be getting too friendly, Ibiki-kun?"