And that was where the world fell down.

Kakashi lurched back, startled, as Ryouma's blow knocked half the breath from his lungs. Shouma struggled and snapped under his one-handed hold, drowning in the melee of scents. Kakashi tightened his grip, digging fingernails into the dog's soft throat until he stopped fighting. A snarl ground down to a whimper and trembled through Shouma's skin.

"Keep the medics out," Kakashi snapped, and shoved the shepherd off the bed. Shouma scrambled for the door. A distant klaxon shrilled, catching Kakashi's attention for the first time--something Yasuo had done, no doubt, when he'd translocated.

Kakashi sheathed his knife with a quick jerk and yanked his chakra back, pulling it into his skin. He couldn't wipe the killing intent away, but he could hide it. Threats wouldn't help anymore.

Ryouma was on the floor, blood beading down his wrists.

Tsume looked barely conscious.

Kakashi throttled the urge to break Yasuo's stupid interfering neck and shoved himself off the bed, dropping bonelessly down to crouch by Ryouma's side. The damage was already done; Tsume leaving now wouldn't fix it.

Very carefully, he put his hand on Ryouma's untouched shoulder, fingers spread over shaking muscle. A scent like blistered bone slid up his nose and made his chest hurt. "Don't you dare break over this, rookie," he said, low and glacially calm. "Not after everything else."

Ryouma didn't even glance at him.

Kakashi tried to think, but the red-black burn of the sharingan wasn't helping him. It knew a thousand different ways to kill people--and nothing about fixing them.

"Tsume," he said finally, without glancing sideways, "get over here and help me before I put a hole in your partner."