| [Dec. 7th, 2015|02:02 am] |
The heavy door didn't quite latch shut behind him. He turned, surprised, to see Kakashi slipping through.
"Decided you wanted something better than blacks?" Ryouma asked.
Kakashi shrugged one shoulder and fell into step beside him. He didn't seem inclined to conversation. Maybe he'd used up all his emotional energy actually giving a damn about Ryouma's knee, and now had to regroup to gather more. Maybe he was just trying to decide what shade of black to change into for breakfast.
The stairs up to the ground floor didn't seem to wind him; he was recovering, too, even though he still looked as if a strongish breeze might knock him down. He had to grip the hand-rail by the end, but he managed to make it look as if he were just glancing up the narrow staircase to the flight above them, where someone was hurrying toward the upper floors in what sounded like wooden-soled festival geta. The clacking echoed through the stairwell until a door banged shut, high above.
Kakashi reached the last stair, pushed himself off the rail, and stopped to hold the lobby door open. Another few seconds' rest, Ryouma thought, and dawdled his way through the door. He shortened his stride to an easier pace as they crossed the lobby and broke out into sunlight.
Kakashi said, "How many medical words do you know?"
Ryouma broke stride, caught himself, and deliberately pushed on. "After five minutes' thinking, I expected a more impressive opening line."
"I'll take that as 'less than ten,'" Kakashi said.
"You can take it any way you want it." Ryouma tilted his face up to the clear spring sky. He was doing a remarkable job of not phrasing that sentence in any of three significantly more offensive ways, he thought. Genma would be proud of him. "Are you offering to teach me?"
"The one subject I really fail at?" Irony curled through Kakashi's voice. "Only if you want to make dead fish blow up. But I could help with the words, if the lieutenant provides them."
Ryouma stopped walking.
"Or not, if it's interfering," Kakashi said warily. He stood just out of arm's reach, watching.
"It's not," Ryouma said. He tucked his thumbs behind his belt and gripped tight, hard leather biting into his palms. "It's— That'd help. Having someone to drill with, like we did with the hand signals. I'd appreciate it. Thanks."
Kakashi's mouth quirked. "I didn't say you'd like it."
"I didn't like it when you threw hand-code flash-cards at my head, either," Ryouma said, and started off toward the barracks again. "I learned 'em, though."
He still couldn't quite believe any of this was real—at least the medical training part of it; Kuroda was all too believable. Genma might mean it, and Raidou might support it, but Kuroda could put a stop to anything he deemed a waste of time or energy. And as lieutenant, at least until Raidou got back, Genma would have to obey.
But Kuroda hadn't shut Kakashi down when he'd offered to transcribe. And Kakashi'd meant that offer, Ryouma was starting to realize. Had meant it last night, when he'd said Ryouma'd be good at medic training.
Team Six believed in him. Who cared if Kuroda didn't? |
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