Hajime, bless him, was cooking breakfast. And hadn’t interrupted. Genma had no doubt he’d eavesdropped, though. Hopefully just on the last part of the conversation. Genma yawned and stretched, arching his back and straightening his legs out in front of him. “Breakfast would be good. And then crash—” Another yawn caught him mid-sentence. “Crashing. For a little while.”

He got to his feet and turned to give Katsuko a hand up as well, reaching past her hand, but hesitating at touching her forearm. “Uh... This might not work. Can you just grab my arm?”

She nodded and wrapped her fingers around his arm above the wrist, offering a wry smile of understanding. He was careful not to grab back as he helped her stand. “Is there nerve damage?” he asked, still looking at her forearm. “Rai’s got some where he was burned. Makes some places numb and others really sensitive, so I have to be careful. And my hands...” He shrugged, drawing in a hiss of air through his teeth. “They work, the chakra works, the nerves work. But they tend to hurt.”

“I don’t have any feeling in the damaged skin, except for my wrists and the inside of my elbows.” Katsuko said. She rubbed both arms as if she were trying to chafe some warmth into them. “Those are... very sensitive.”

“Yeah. I’ll bet,” Genma agreed. It was hardly surprising given the extent of the visible damage. And there was her chakra, burning like a thousand suns. Every time Genma touched her he felt the pressure of it. Whatever they had done to her, it had been far more than just the ruination of her skin.

“Who’s up for hare?” Hajime asked, interrupting at last. “If you two slackers are done lazing around, I’ve got breakfast about ready.”

“Coming,” Genma told him. “I just need to fill my canteen.”

“I thought you went to do that half an hour ago, Gen.”

“Yeah. Well.” He shrugged. “Took longer than I thought.”

Katsuko turned to stare at Hajime’s fire where three skewered rabbits roasted over the flames. She clapped her hand over her mouth in a pantomime of horror. “Hajime, you cannibal, you.”

“Huh?” Hajime said.

She stared pointedly at the rabbit-faced ANBU mask clipped to Hajime’s belt. “They could have been cousins of yours!”

Hajime groaned. “Oh. That.”

“He’s probably heard that a hundred times,” Genma said, laughing, “but I still think it’s funny.” He grinned at Katsuko. “At least we don’t have to eat rats all that often. Or cats — or whatever this is supposed to be.” He patted his own mask at his hip. “Anyway...” He picked up his and Hajime’s canteens. “Thanks. For the talk.”