| [Jun. 2nd, 2009|10:50 pm] |
"Mm," Natsumi said, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. After the first moment of shock she'd hastily averted her eyes, but surely if it was just medical exploration it was fine to look, to evaluate. She'd seen him naked before; she'd stripped him herself! And, gods, if she remembered any of that outside its desperate and life-saving context, she would never stop blushing...
She couldn't force down the traitorous blush, but she could corral her thoughts. At least he'd given her another avenue to pursue. "The monks cleaned what they could while they were tending our wounds." She nodded to the pathetically small stacks of gear set beside the sliding paper doors. Her bird-faced mask lay on top of her utility belt; Asuma's heavy blue bracelets and that odd headband joined socks, jockstrap, scrolls, and trench knives in an even smaller pile. "I imagine our clothes are drying. Your boots are probably outside." She'd have to beg sandals from one of the smaller monks. And more bandages.
Bandages. She tried to look properly at him, this time, ignoring the swell of muscle under tanned skin, the broad stretch of shoulder and the dusting of black hair. His ribs and belly were carefully wrapped, without even a spot of staining over the long cut. The heavy bruising was almost gone, faded to dull yellow over his pectorals. The scabs from the sword-cuts across his collarbones looked several days old, instead of only several hours. And he clearly wasn't accustomed to sitting politely in a yukata; the thin robe gaped open over his legs, revealing a broad slice of bandaged thigh. Natsumi bit her knuckles again.
"I'm sorry about your leg. I couldn't get to you with a chakra-disruption fast enough, and I couldn't think of anything else to do in time. It should have been shallower, but I was--a little desperate." |
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