Genma's brows pinched. Usagi chuckled, roughly, and reached up to pat him on the shoulder. "Morphine's helping. I'll drink, I'll rest. Do people not listen when you order 'em, sensei? You should start yelling louder."

Genma didn't quite manage a chuckle of his own. He moved on to Ginta, checking pulse, pupils, respiration, and finally pulled out a sealed scroll for Kakashi. "IV supplies in here. Set them both up with Ringers and tell me if there are any changes in his heart rate."

"I'm not dying," Ginta protested.

"Good," Genma said. "Keep it that way."

He crouched down by Abe, ignoring the reeking bucket. Ryouma hastily shoved it further out of the way and shifted to show Genma what he'd done: the clean wound and sterile dressing, the thick wads of gauze to pad and stabilize the wrist. Genma nodded distractedly and passed him another IV sealing scroll.

The ship rolled beneath them. Ryouma tried not to think of the oncoming storm or the ebbing tide, Raidou and Kasumi facing down the sailors, Kurenai and Satomi struggling with Kuroda through the hills. He hunted the big veins in Abe's arm: cephalic, basilic, the one he always forgot…

"Ow," Ginta said. "Butcher."

Kakashi didn't respond. Abe closed his eyes, and didn't flinch when Ryouma finally slid the needle in. Green chakra lit around Genma's hands. Abe's jaw tightened, then relaxed; he breathed easier in relief.

The door banged open again. A rising wind, sailors bellowing, thumping feet on the quarterdeck overhead, and Kuroda, blown in on the first drops of rain.

He said, "Fukuda's dead?"

The green glow flickered over Genma's hands. His head lifted. "Yes. Do you have injuries?"

Satomi and Kurenai, drenched and white with exhaustion, stumbled past Kuroda and thumped to the floor. Kasumi came in, spared a tight glance for her team, and then went for a sealing scroll and blankets. Genma hissed between his teeth. "Tousaki, triage."

Ryouma shoved to his knees. Kuroda snapped, "Tousaki, sit down." His voice graveled with fury. "Shiranui, you took her into combat? You allowed her to get injured on your watch? Have you completely forgotten your duty to Konoha?"

Killing intent swelled behind him, lifting the hairs on Ryouma's arms. Raidou shut the door and said softly, "That's not what I said, Vice-commander."

Genma's face was as closed and controlled as his ANBU mask, and almost as pale. "Combat was unavoidable, Kuroda-fukushirei. Fukuda-san prioritized extraction of her sister and niece over her own safety."

"Of course she did, you idiot," Kuroda snarled, as if Raidou weren't standing just behind him with a pressure of killing intent that smothered Ryouma's breath. Abe was panting, straining for air. Kuroda bit out, "I'm not asking her motivations. I'm asking how you allowed her to throw her life away, when the rest of your team made it through uninjured."

"Neither Abe nor Sakamoto-fukuchou are stable." Genma's voice was flat, uncompromising. His eyes found Raidou, narrowed; Raidou's jaw clenched, and the killing intent clamped down. Genma said, "I'll be happy to explain myself to your satisfaction after I've finished treating them."

"I doubt it," Kuroda said coldly. But he turned, brushing past Raidou as if he weren't even there, and hauled the door open. A moment later, Ryouma heard him shouting at sailors.

The ship rocked, leaned; an unsecured scroll rolled across the floor before Ryouma could grab it. The bucket sloshed, its scent thick in the close air. Genma said, "Tousaki, take care of that. And check on Intel." He bent his head again over Abe's wrist. The green glow flared and steadied.

Ryouma cleared his throat. "Lieutenant."

"I'll do it," Kasumi said roughly. She grabbed the bucket out of Ryouma's hands and thumped outside again.

Ginta shifted, groaned, and tried to sit up. "Genma—"

"It's fine." Genma's voice was still clipped, mission-focus. "Give me a few more minutes here and I'll come take care of your burns."

Ryouma and Kakashi traded glances. Kakashi shook his head, and handed Ryouma his canteen.