While they worked at that, Raidou snapped a scroll open and pulled out one of his back-up uniforms. He stripped, re-dressed, sealed the bloodied rags back into the scroll, and stowed it away again—you never knew what the Quartermaster could save. Then, carefully, he stretched.

Stiff, and slightly awkward in the tight bandages, but not bad. His blood was still up; he wouldn’t feel the real hurt until later.

He could work with that.

“Ram, any sign?” he said, keying his mic.

Ryouma’s voice came pitched low through the earbud, fringed with static. “None.” He paused, then: “Rain’s getting harder.”

It was building to a full shower outside of their shelter, bruising leaves and stirring the dirt to mud. Advantage: it’d cover their scent and trail. Disadvantage: everything else.

Genma tied the last knot on the flesh-colored bandage wrapped around Katsuko’s shoulder, swabbed away the wet black handprint Ryouma had left on her opposite shoulder strap, and began packing up his supplies. “Blood pills for both of you,” he said, flicking two dark red pills into their hands. “And half a liter of water each.”

“Water won’t be a problem,” Raidou said, lifting his mask and cracking the pill between his teeth. Copper and bitter salt spilled across his tongue. He drowned the taste with his canteen.

Katsuko copied him.

“Hound incoming,” Ryouma warned, a bare half beat before Kakashi landed soundlessly in the middle of the group, making Raidou jerk with surprise and almost crack his head on a tree-root.

“Goddammit, Ha—Hound.”

Kakashi paused. “Sorry?”

“No, you’re not,” said Katsuko, with a cracked laugh.

Kakashi shrugged one lean wet shoulder. “Found more trails. They go into the mountains.”

“How many?” Genma asked.

“I was up to fifteen before the rain got bad. There are probably more.” Kakashi pushed his mask aside, raking soaked hair back. “And there might be a slight problem.”

“More of a problem than twenty plus demons,” Raidou said mildly.

“Some of the tracks are big,” Kakashi said. “And there are signs for mines up ahead.”

In the delicate silence that followed, the hiss of falling rain grew louder.

“My love for this day just keeps increasing,” Raidou said.