| [Mar. 2nd, 2008|09:46 am] |
Raidou stared at Genma and reflected, not for the first time, that his friend was mildly certifiable. He twisted, pushing himself up and back until he was better braced against the flat hospital pillows, and jabbed Genma hard in the shoulder with his good hand. "She was wrong," he said firmly, catching Genma's eyes when he looked up. Holding them with his own. Genma looked tired. Raidou knew he did, too. They didn't need to deal with this shit when they should be healing.
"You think I'd run with a fuck-up?" he snorted, putting every ounce of derision into the noise he was capable of. "Give me some damn credit. I think I've earned it by this point." If Genma started blaming himself Raidou was going to track down Sumire and fillet her with her own stilleto. He spoke firmly, low and heated, letting conviction work for him in the place of pretty words. Raidou wasn't a poet, but he damn well believed what he was talking about. "I got nailed in the shoulder because I didn't dodge quick enough. I got concussed because I let myself be distracted. And I got sick because we don't have fucking antibiotics in the med-kits. The only reason we got back alive is because you healed me, your summon tracked the wife down, and you held on long enough to not die from poison while I played fucking shuriken tag on the roof."
He was going to have nightmares about being half a second later. He knew it.
Raidou changed his jab to a hold, letting his fingers curl over Genma's shoulder and squeeze for a moment. "So stop talking crap before I smack you with your IV stand." |
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