None of that actually covered the buried alive part, but Asuma was beginning to get the picture.

“Lot of trouble to go through for a former-friend an’ someone who steals your dates,” he said, careful-voiced, testing the waters.

Ginta’s lone eye darkened, like a chip of blue ice. “Yeah,” he said, clearly remembering the one and only conversation they’d had, back when Asuma had been freshly home, and everything he probably wished he hadn’t said. “See? Genius.”

Asuma gave a sharp smile. “Not gonna argue with you. Wanna tell me how you ended up in the ground, or are you saving that part for suspense?”

"We lost Ryouma's trail at the pass. Figured he might have come up here to the old bunker. Team Badass's bunker." Lines creased Ginta’s bruised forehead, sweat beading at his temples. He made a restless movement. "He wasn't there. Hadn't been there."

“Hey, Saiyuri, did you give him any painkillers?” Asuma said, as soon as he put two and two together and came up idiot.

“Not yet,” the medic said. “There’re a handful of pre-filled morphine syringes in my pack. I assume you know how to use a needle?”

“Since I was ten,” Asuma said, giving Ginta’s shoulder a quick squeeze and carefully lifting Pakkun from his lap. He tucked the little dog down by Ginta’s side and went to the medic’s open satchel, which contained half a dozen well-organized kits. He found the morphine in the one labeled General Trauma. “How much do you want him to have?”

“One syringe,” said Saiyuri. She was kneeling by Hatake’s head, using a water jutsu and a cloth to clean the filth from his face and hair, obviously eavesdropping on everything Ginta said. “You can throw one over here, too.”

Asuma tossed a syringe across; Sayuri caught it neatly, uncapped the needle with her teeth, and pulled Kakashi’s shirt collar down enough to stick him in the upper arm. Asuma took a syringe for himself and went back to Ginta, following the same procedure.

Ginta let out a relieved sigh, wince fading a little. It took another few minutes for the drug to kick in, but he finally stopped shifting restlessly and continued, story coming in fits and starts. "We tried to make a fire. That's when it triggered. Kakashi got slammed in the head. I tried to drag him away, make a run for it, but the walls came down. One of his dogs saved us.” He drew a raspy breath. “Bashed my face in in there somewhere, too.”

“Noticed that,” Asuma said. “Saiyuri’s already got a head start on fixing you up, though. Another couple weeks an’ maybe you won’t frighten little old ladies in the street.” The nasty-ass piece of gauze that had been taped to Ginta’s cheek was gone, replaced with fresh bandaging, and the bruising was already less severe around his eye, reduced from grotesque to half a harlequin mask. Asuma had heard Saiyuri snap all the bones back into place—and he’d probably hear it again the next time he tried to sleep.

He blew out a breath.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We’re gonna get you both stable, sled-dog you back to Yukihana, and see about getting you home from there. An’ then everyone and their mother is gonna yell at you both for being total morons, but at least you’ll keep all your fingers and toes.”