| [Aug. 23rd, 2014|03:59 am] |
He left her under the watchful eye of one of Katsuko’s remaining clones—they were down to less than seven now—and made tracks for the bathroom. The soap smelled oddly sweet, but it got the blood off. He splashed cold water over his face, clearing mental cobwebs, and eyed the cracked mirror. The ragged bastard staring back looked like he badly needed a shave and a nap, but at least he was clear-eyed.
If he made it to the end of the mission without another blackout, maybe he’d stop worrying.
Okay, no, but maybe he’d worry less.
When he returned to the bunkroom, Genma was sitting with his back braced against the bed-platform, surrounded by a tiny hurricane of old, bloodied bandages. It looked like he’d taken a moment to give himself a fresh IV. Up on the platform, Kakashi had one, too. Ryouma was kneeling at Genma’s side, holding antiseptic, gauze, and an expression of faint trauma. Katsuko was on the other side, bending over to study Genma’s injured thigh curiously. The wound was ugly—curving and ragged where the original blade had laid the flesh open, neater where Genma had taken a scalpel to himself. Half the thigh was bruised black and purple, but the stretched, shiny look of intense swelling was gone. Clotted scabs intermingled with black stitches, and a few disturbed spots bled sluggishly. Overall, it was an improvement on last night.
Katsuko had a pair of bandage shears tucked behind one ear.
Quietly, Raidou leaned against the doorframe and watched as, under Genma’s instruction, Ryouma finished cleaning the injury and moved on to re-bandaging. Katsuko handed across supplies when asked, and kept up a patter of cheerful, random commentary that alternately baffled the lieutenant and seemed to help keep Ryouma grounded.
When the leg was bound up in clean, white bandages and the last knot tied, Genma sighed relief. “Good job.”
“We try our best,” Katsuko said, sweeping unused supplies back together.
Ryouma sat back on his heels, bracing his hands on his knees. “If you sit still now and stop walking on it, maybe someday you’ll be able to brag to everyone that you got Tousaki Ryouma’s first bandage-job.”
The look Genma gave him was impressively bland. “Snarky, dictatorial, and insubordinate: you’re a natural medic.” He patted Ryouma once on the shoulder tiredly, but also, if Raidou was any judge, with legitimate pride. “I knew you had it in you.”
Ryouma’s face brightened, like it always did when someone complimented him, and the tips of his ears went faintly pink. “Quick learner,” he said, trying for casual. “Anything else before we pull your pants back up?”
Katsuko snickered quietly.
Genma glanced at her, eyebrows creased, and then back at Ryouma. He actually seemed a little embarrassed. “Boundaries still apply, Tousaki.”
That was as good a cue as any. Raidou cleared his throat.
Katsuko and Ryouma twitched like a live current had been applied. Ryouma glanced guiltily over his shoulder, and Katsuko busied herself more intensely with tidying.
Terror in the ranks. That was gratifying.
“Perhaps bedside manners can be the next lesson,” Raidou said. “All done?”
Ryouma visibly swallowed his first answer, ducking his head instead. “Yes, taichou.”
“All set, taichou,” Katsuko said, more breezily, and patted Ryouma on the shoulder. “We have an excellent new bandage minion.” |
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