Kakashi stiffened.

“Sorry,” Niimi-sensei said, changing the angle of her hands. “That had a little more snap than I expected. It should be easing down again.”

Ryouma kept his head up, trying to see what she was doing, but the tension slipped away and his head thumped back down as if it was too heavy to hold up. He said accusingly, “I can’t feel my toes.”

Kakashi snorted softly and relaxed back against the wall. “They’re still there.”

It was a mark of pharmacological achievement — and only slightly disturbing — that Ryouma accepted that trustingly. He hummed something vague to himself, half contented, half a slowed down rock song, then the noise cut off and he looked anxiously at Kakashi. “Are you having fun?”

Even by Ryouma standards, that was random. Kakashi stared at him blankly, marked the rising distress, and tried, “Yes?”

“That’s good. Thought you’d like the seals.” Ryouma settled again, for about a second, and then sounded worried. “But you don’t needta stay if you’re not having fun…”

It’s fine, Kakashi, I’m just having a decade of trauma corrected, you don’t need to stay if the lights aren’t shiny enough.

Kakashi considered and discarded several snappish responses, took a breath, and said, “Tousaki, tell us another story.”

Ryouma’s expression brightened. He lay back thoughtfully, stayed quiet long enough that Kakashi thought he’d actually fallen asleep, then finally said, “One time I got paid in soap.”

Kakashi blinked. Ryouma gave him a tipsy smile and launched into a long, involved story about mountain bandits. He forgot to introduce half the characters, mixed up the rest, and spent most of his time detailing the kinds of soap that the grateful shopkeeper had shoved into his arms, without actually explaining what he’d done to earn them. Fascinated, Kakashi propped his chin on his hand and made encouraging sounds.

A diatribe on orange-blossom carried them through the last minutes of cartilage repair, and Ryouma needed the barest prompting to keep comparing fruit scents. Niimi-sensei addressed the next adhesion, then called Goro over to tackle the smaller one she’d assigned him. Kakashi watched them narrowly, but was satisfied by Niimi-sensei’s close attention and guidance. Goro finished the brief procedure smiling.

Ryouma’s voice had wound down to a sleepy mumble. Kakashi watched him drift, ready to divert him again, but he barely twitched when Niimi-sensei said, “That’ll do it for today. We’ll put a brace on him, let him have an hour or two in recovery, and he can go home with crutches and painkillers. I assume you’re staying to keep an eye on him?”

Kakashi glanced aside to find her looking at him. He shrugged wordless assent.

“Excellent. He can schedule the next appointment with the nurse when he’s more awake.” She shook her hands out and the green glow faded, draining out of the circle and sinking underneath Ryouma’s skin. The inked seals remained, dark against tanned skin and old scars.

The room felt suddenly empty, like it might echo. Kakashi resisted the urge to rub his arms.

Hyuuga Mitso stretched and released her Byakugan. She pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes, and nodded down at Ryouma, who managed a puzzled but willing smile. For a Hyuuga, she had remarkable bedside manner.

Goro staggered to his feet. Niimi-sensei clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him out, pausing to give the waiting nurse instructions. Hyuuga Mitso followed them, and there was a brief moment of stillness.

Kakashi let out a slow, soft breath of relief. No complications so far.

“Half done,” he told Ryouma.

Ryouma blinked hazily at him, struggling with eyes that didn’t quite want to open. “Wasn’t so bad.”

“Told you,” Kakashi said.

Nurses descended before Ryouma could answer, armed with a knee brace, a gurney, and a plan. Kakashi stayed to one side as they loaded Ryouma up, and followed when they carried him out.