Unbidden, Kakashi’s thoughts circled back around to that blossoming warmth in the T&I commander’s scent. But you couldn’t blame a professional sadist for reacting to a subordinate saying under orders, I’d commit genocide for you. Perfect obedience gave everyone a thrill.

He reeled himself back to solid ground. “I doubt it,” he said.

A quick glance flicked his way, then resettled on the opposite wall. “Well, maybe not,” said Ryouma. “Yondaime-sama'd probably make them compete for your hand instead. Slay monsters and bring back three perfect fruit from a tree in the garden of the gods, that sort of thing. Plus a dowry.” He folded his arms behind his head and slouched down even more, crossing his legs at the ankles. His voice was lighter now. "I bet you're worth at least eight cows."

“You’ve put a disturbing amount of thought into this,” Kakashi said at length.

“Don’t worry, I’m fresh out of cows,” Ryouma said.

Why did people always say don’t worry before they said entirely worrisome things? Like medics who said this won’t hurt a bit.

He wondered what Rin would make of Ryouma.

A purse, probably, if Ryouma annoyed her enough.

“How’s your hand?” Kakashi asked.

The awkward club of bandaging made a reappearance, pulled down from behind Ryouma’s head. “I’ll keep it. Probably.” He made a visible effort to curl his fingers, which only curved a slight dent into the fluffy white block. “Feeling’s back, at least.”

And full recovery expected, otherwise they wouldn’t bother letting him stand the third Trial. So, no harm, no foul, no reason to feel guilty—and yet. He could still see the glisten of tendons paring open under the scalpel blade.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve—well, I probably could’ve handled it better.”

By not saying handled to the one-handed man for starters.

Ryouma’s head jerked up, like a horse hitting an unexpected jump. “You should've? How about I shouldn't've gotten caught in the first place? You had no reason to get involved, and you did anyway." He rubbed his left thumb across his wrist, tracing the bandaged path of the blade. “I owe you a lot more than just a 'thanks.' Let me know when your movie comes out. I'll take you to it.”

Kakashi couldn’t actually think of a more potentially awkward experience than going to an Icha Icha movie (Icha Icha movie!) with company. What if he combusted in his seat? What if he made a noise?

There would be twelve-foot naked people on the screen. Who could watch that in touching distance of someone else?

Though, maybe if he watched it six times first, he’d be desensitised enough...

“Or you could show me your jutsu,” he suggested instead.