The Shadow Proves the Sunshine. [Genma and Raidou]
[Takes place in the morning of April 5th, the same day as Welcome to My Morning, three days following After the Rain and Just Enough Rope, and six days after Meet You on the Other Side.]

The day after Genma's second hand surgery and two days after Rina's visit (which he'd had heard about only in reluctant snatches from Genma), things had settled into something like a routine. 0600 brought a snap of florescent light as the first nurse of the day began the morning shift, followed almost immediately by the first cardiac clench of the day as Genma and Raidou twitched awake with their own personal curses.

(Holy Buddha's scrotum, was Genma's contribution today.

Son of a riddled whore, Raidou returned, with equal fervor.

Mornin', said the nurse.)

Then there was the ritual peeing in a cup (which Genma, as always, wanted to make a race), followed by the first blood samples of the day (there was no way to make that a race, but Raidou decided he won on account of not going corpse pale), and finally the systematic checking of IV lines, monitor screens, the black seals on Raidou's bandages, and the glowing blue ones on Genma's cast. Medications were adjusted and given, and Raidou almost missed it when Genma tucked his psych pill under his tongue and pretended to swallow it. He glowered; Genma gave him a narrow-eyed, slightly sulky look in return. The nurse stepped in before anyone decided to punctuate the lowering argument with a thrown bedpan, and made Genma swallow the pill.

Then they had to rate their pain on a scale of one to ten.

Five, croaked Genma, which was miles better than last night's post-surgery nine before they'd gotten his medication properly adjusted.

Three, said Raidou, coasting peacefully on an intricate weave of painkillers and the full-body satisfaction that came from finally getting a decent night's sleep. The second healing on his shoulderblade was holding well; he'd spent a solid eight hours lying on his right side, facing Genma, and feeling nothing but a distant ache throbbing through the newly repaired bone. Even the pins and needles he'd woken up to, dancing all the way from his right shoulder to his wrist, couldn't put a damper on his growing cheer.

It only got better when Ito-sensei dropped by halfway through breakfast, checked Genma over, and pronounced the second surgery a tentative but hopeful success.

"We should get out," Raidou announced suddenly to the nurse, as Ito's white coat vanished around the door.

She blinked at him, midway through stacking their breakfast trays onto a cart. "Now?"

"Yes--well, no, I don't mean out of the hospital," Raidou explained quickly, even as the urge to go home rose up and bit him. "I just mean--out. Get out of this room. Move around a bit. Genma's okay to sit in a wheelchair, right?" He twisted (carefully) to look at his partner. "You can, right? I could push. We can get some sunshine."

Outside, where the sky lived and the air smelled like air.