| [Feb. 24th, 2008|05:18 am] |
In the moment of silence before Raidou spoke, Genma dazed into something not quite sleep, but close. Raidou's voice got his eyes open again, heavy lids not lifting all the way to look at Raidou, burrowed into his pillow just like always, face relaxed as he mumbled his question.
No, see. It's not that we died, it's that the other guys did and we didn't, Genma thought. The words couldn't quite find the way to his mouth. The sight of Raidou so close and so nearly asleep couldn't quite keep his eyes open. The anti-seizure medicine didn't have to work particularly hard to pull Genma back under the softly reflective surface of consciousness in the next bit of silence.
Raidou spoke again, a mumble even less distinct, and Genma's eyelids strained to open a bare slit, then fell shut again. "No bell," he muttered again. You don't even have to put a bell on me, because I'm not going anywhere until you're up and out of bed and going there with me. The thought shimmered like a light silk scarf blown by a March wind. Genma followed it into a weird dream of Raidou drifting closer, of a hand reaching out for him.
A medic came close. Checked his pulse, checked his breathing. Checked the monitors and made notes. Did the same for Raidou. The others had gone, for the most part, quietly leaving when it was clear the danger was past. There were other patients to worry about, other jounin waking up in a sweat-stained panic, screaming themselves hoarse with mission flashbacks. Genin with amputations, facing the end to a career they'd only just begun. Chuunin plotting quiet suicide as they realized they'd gone out in a team of four and come back alone.
It was, in other words, like any other day at work for the medics at Konoha's hospital.
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