"Not that I generally object to rescuing dudes in distress," Ryouma said slowly, "but I haven't had coffee yet and the adrenaline hit from ANBU in my bedroom is starting to wear off. Morning, Ayane. It's no good trying to molest Hatake, he doesn't put out on the first date."

"You would know," Ayane said, but her stiff shoulders eased a little. Her dark gaze drank Ryouma in between one blink and the next, and fixed on his bandaged hand. She folded her arms. "All that fuss for a few broken fingers?"

"They really hurt," Ryouma said plaintively. He glanced behind him, where Kakashi was wedged in the narrow gap between Ryouma and the doorframe, peering warily over Ryouma's shoulder.

Kakashi didn't look poisoned anymore, though he'd hid it well yesterday, too. His eye curved in that patently false smile when he noticed Ryouma's gaze. "Hi."

It didn't look like there was a story forthcoming. Ryouma stepped away from the door. "Heard they had the village on Code Red lockdown yesterday. I slept through most of it." The hospital had released him at six, with dire warnings about calories and further rest to replenish the chakra drained from him by successive healings. He'd fallen asleep twice in the cafeteria before he made it home, and he'd barely managed to stagger across his threshold and strip down before he hit the bed.

If the village had been invaded, he'd have missed it.

"Observant as always," Ayane said drily. "But I'm glad you're less hurt than rumor made it sound." She flicked a glance like a knife over his shoulder at Kakashi, and turned away.

"Wow," Ryouma said, not quite under his breath. "I think she cares."

Ayane tossed her hair, and flipped him off.

"About you, maybe," Kakashi said. He was staying firmly near the doorjamb, and he'd dug in his belt pouch for the orange-backed book he'd been reading on the day of the first trial. It had a picture of a man chasing a laughing woman on the front, which possibly accounted for why Kakashi was so interested in it. He was only about halfway through.

Ryouma leaned against the wall next to Kakashi, and stole a glance over his shoulder. No pictures. Boring. He asked, "What were you talking about? She didn't really try to molest you, did she? Because you probably should've let her."

"I'm still waiting for the date you owe me," Kakashi said, and turned a page. "Ayane-san was a little concerned about your wellbeing, and under the impression I had the answers. Next time you fail to die, you should consider a press release."

Across the room, Ayane was talking quietly with Takeshi, her head bent and her long ponytail falling like water over her shoulder. She didn't look back.

He needed a lot more caffeine in his blood before he could start figuring out what that meant. A friend's concern, maybe; they'd been friends before she invited him home after a mission two weeks ago, and things had seemed easy enough at the bar the night after the first trial. Hell, he'd have asked, if it was her. Curiosity didn't have to mean anything.