Genma's muscles tensed like iron. "I told you to check on Thirteen." His voice cracked like a crow's. He didn't lift his head.

"Kasumi's got them," Ryouma said, with more confidence than he felt. He rubbed Genma's shoulder, cautiously, wishing he had dry clothes to offer, or that he knew Kakashi's yank-the-water-out jutsu. Maybe if he asked Kakashi now—

Genma pulled away, bracing himself with a hand on the deck. "I told you to go check on them."

"And I ignored that order. Sir." Ryouma looked for Kakashi, found him, directed him with a jerk of the chin. Kakashi hesitated, then hooked the lantern to a beam and sank down at Genma's other side, bracketing him between their shoulders. "There's nothing I can do for 'em that she can't, anyway. But you..."

Genma drew a ragged breath. "What do you want, Tousaki?"

I want us to be back in Konoha. I want Kuroda gone and Raidou here. I want you to be okay. I want—

"Fukuda wasn't your fault, lieutenant."

A rough, wordless sound ripped Genma's abused throat. He shuddered against Ryouma's side, beneath his hand. "Just— just go. Both of you. Go."

His shoulders shook, and didn't seem able to stop.

Ryouma met Kakashi's eye, over Genma's bent head. The black pupil of Kakashi's eye seemed to have swallowed all the grey iris; he was pale, rigid, but he looked at Ryouma and he shook his head.

He wasn't going anywhere, either.

Ryouma swallowed hard and looked down again. Then, deliberately, he wrapped his arm around Genma's shaking shoulders, and tugged him close.

Resistance, as Genma's shoulders tensed against the pull. He'd stopped trying to shove away, at least, but there was still no hint of uncurling in his bowed shoulders or bent head, no surrender in the hitching, broken breath. He dragged his hands up to cover his face, and muttered into them: "Sorry. I'm okay. It's okay. I'll be okay."

"Liar," Raidou said out of the darkness, hoarse but gentle with it.

He stepped around the lashed-down salt barrels, moving stiffly, careful with the ship-surge. Behind him, Kurenai pushed dripping hair back from her shoulders, her dark red gaze skipping across their huddled tableau; she let her breath out in a tired huff, and touched Raidou's elbow. He looked back.

"Stay down here," she said. "I'll go back, see what I can do."

"Start with strangling," Raidou rasped, and caught her shoulder with a quick, grateful squeeze. She tilted a wry smile at him and turned away.

Raidou took one more step and crouched down in front of Genma. He reached out, curled careful fingers around Genma's wrists, and pulled his hands away. "Genma, look at me."

Genma breathed in, shaky and deep, and finally lifted his head. His face was raw, mouth struggling to form a professional line. Eyes red-rimmed, lashes clumped with the salt-tracks that glistened on his cheeks. "I'll be— I just need a minute…"

His voice died. He dropped his gaze. Guilt mauled his face, and trembled in his shoulders.

Kakashi shifted away, pushing off the barrels and to his feet so smoothly the air barely rippled around him. Raidou dropped into the place he left. He braced his back against the barrels and wrapped his arm over Ryouma's, circling Genma's shoulders. His other hand dropped on Genma's head. He was as wet as they, but heat radiated from him. Chakra-warmth, driving out the chill.

He rumbled, "You don't need to be okay."

Genma gave way, sudden as a wall collapsing. Dust and rubble and nearly silent sobs, muffled first against his wrist, and then in Raidou's chest. Raidou pulled him in, as Ryouma hadn't quite dared, and Genma let himself go. He curled into Raidou's hold, one hand scrabbling for a grip on Raidou's shirt, and gasped, "I tried. I wanted to save her. I tried…"