She gave Genma an obvious once-over then, taking in the crutches and the bulky padding of hidden bandaging on one thigh, as though she hadn’t really seen it on first approach. And then pursed her lips, gave Asuma a considering look, and turned back to the MP instead of responding. “I appreciate you coming out to help. I’m sorry you had to waste your time.”

“No trouble at all, ma’am.” The Uchiha gave a shallow bow, just slightly more than a nod, before turning to address Asuma. “Please be sure to give advanced warning in the future, if you can, so we can keep this from happening again.”

“Sir,” Asuma managed.

He felt Genma move more than saw it, the way the other man leaned in closer and ghosted his fingers above Asuma’s elbow. When he glanced over, Genma’s look asked how he wanted to proceed. Get the hell out of here, obviously; the less he had to deal with his sister, the better. Pulling this shit on him in public was seriously unnecessary. Didn’t he have enough stress to deal with already?

“I hope you can appreciate,” Reiko said in a low voice, before Asuma could find his voice again, “how much this stunt scared me.”

And now the personal guilt trip to go with the public shaming. The only time it seemed like Reiko cared was when he inconvenienced her or made the family look bad. And him going and knocking himself off would have been pretty inconvenient. Things might have been different back before their dad had died, but that seemed so long ago now as to be another lifetime altogether.

“It wasn’t a stunt,” Asuma replied, not bothering to keep the defensiveness out of his tone, but at least not raising his voice.

Genma glanced between them, clearly gauging their moods. “There’s a break room with some vending machines just past the potted plants over there—” he nodded toward the plants in question “—on the way to the wards. We could go there.”

Reiko glanced the way indicated. Asuma shook his head, vetoing that suggestion as quickly as Reiko’d shot down the previous idea of taking this to a conference room. He did not want to prolong this anymore than absolutely necessary. As far as he was concerned, ‘necessary’ had walked out of the lobby along with the MPs.

“You have an appointment,” he pointed out, willing to use whatever he could get his hands on as an excuse not to talk.

She looked back over, once again considering how Genma was clearly recovering from an injury. Anyone with an eye could see that much. “What time are you coming home tonight?” she asked, directing the question at Asuma without looking up from Genma’s bandaged thigh.

Never, Asuma thought, and opened his mouth to come up with a lie.

“He’s not,” Genma cut in smoothly. “He’s coming back to our place, as soon as we find one.”

Asuma’s mouth clicked closed, and he couldn’t help the disbelieving look he shot his friend just then. Did they talk about that at some point in the last twenty-four and he somehow didn’t remember? Pretty sure they hadn’t talked about that. No, he was pretty damn sure they hadn’t talked about finding a place to rent together. What the hell?