Raidou stared at her, lost in a sea of words without a map. But he managed to understand two things. "It's bleedin'," he said finally, and waved the red-splattered rag as proof. "An' I don't want to have sex with you either." That, at least, he was sure of.

He knelt up again, catching himself on the edge of the cot when his balance wobbled, and studied her face. Blood cut a crisp line down from her left eyebrow, blurring only when it reached the edge of her tattoo. He decided to start there. "Hol' still."

As he worked, the words I don't hate you! settled gently in his chest and dragged up a smile.