| [Mar. 5th, 2014|02:11 am] |
Ryouma hadn't yet had the misfortune of tangling with ANBU's resident medic, but he'd heard enough stories to be wary. "I'll look into it hard," he said.
"Smart man," Genma murmured. He pulled a slender steel senbon out of his low ponytail and bit down on the sharpened tip. He'd somehow mastered the art of talking around it, in the same way a smoker might carry on his conversation without ever losing the cigarette dangling from his lip. Ryouma watched in covert fascination. "You know you have to get a sign-off from Toushirou-sensei or one of the hospital docs before you're back on active status, right? As a field medic I can sign a shinobi off as unfit for duty, but it takes a full medic to reverse that." Genma's mouth tilted around the senbon in wry apology. "In case you're wondering, we're all currently unfit except for Hatake. Standard practice following a mission with serious injuries."
Kakashi had come off that mission in better shape than the rest of them, hadn't he? Almost uninjured, apart from his raw shoulders and a few shallow cuts; chakra-thin and tired, but not scraped empty like Ryouma. He'd certainly been more energetic this morning. Was that the difference between a genius prodigy, Hokage-trained, and the mere elite? Plus social weirdness, of course...
One fit, out of five. Ryouma grunted. "So say taichou comes back with a mission, and we've got two hours before we leave. How do we go about getting recertified in a hurry? I don't even have my new gear yet."
Genma beckoned for him to sit up. "The mission office knows our current status," he said. "If we're getting assigned out, we'll get top priority with Toushirou-sensei or another medic. And the QM's office will get the note we're being sent out. They'll rush order any equipment, or in worst case, give you a loaner." He cast a critical eye over Ryouma's visible bruises. "Shirt off."
Ryouma hauled the tee-shirt over his head and tried not to shiver in the thin wind. Genma's senbon clicked against his teeth as he chewed it absently. He circled the earthen bench, until his gaze prickled on Ryouma's spine. Then his fingers, gentle, skimmed over the margins of the aching muscles where Katsuko's knees had driven into his back, just below his shoulder blades and the blackwork tattoo. "This is why I won't spar with her out of armor."
"I think she wears spikes on her kneecaps," Ryouma said. He tried to twist his neck to glance back, but he could see only the curve of his shoulder and a lick of black ink. Genma's searching fingers found a more sensitive spot further from his spine; Ryouma hissed, and faced forward again, shoulders bowed. "That's what hurt when I pulled Kakashi up."
"I'm almost entirely sure I said I wasn't going to fix it if you broke each other," Genma said. But his chakra was sinking in, soft and warm as deerskin tanned buttery smooth, and the ache from the pressure of his fingers began to smear away.
Ryouma bent his neck and let his shoulders loosen. "You're my favorite lieutenant, too," he said.
"I'm your only lieutenant," Genma said evenly. If he was pleased, Ryouma couldn't hear it.
"Good thing you're a good one then, right?" Ryouma arched his back into the warm, chakra-tingling touch. He said half at random, "Hakone—that's Shibata Hakone, Team Nineteen's rookie—isn't very fond of his yet. I don't think he thinks his lieutenant's very bright." Of course, by Hakone's standards, you probably didn't qualify for 'bright' unless you did math in your head for fun. Fortunately he was less critical of his friends. Kakashi could stand to learn from him about being the smartest person in the room without insulting everyone else about it…
Genma's hands eased slowly down Ryouma's back, following the contour of the aching muscle. Pain soothed away at his touch. "Nineteen… That's Ushio. He's alright. Not a big reader, but if you want a building cased for an infiltration or a target staked out or tailed, he's your man. He's very… focused." |
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