Nothing smelled good. Nothing sounded good. She kept catching snatches of conversation, whiffs of scent. She let her head sag against a strong shoulder, rolling to see Kakashi next to her out of bleary eyes. She had to think. Thinking wasn't easy. Ryouma was upset.

"What's--?" she managed to say, and her thoughts danced away, floating off on a lack of chakra and an overabundance of drugs.

She rolled her head, face pressing against warm, whole skin. There was the smell of heat. Sunburns and days at the lake. Hunting and warm forests. But it was overlaid so heavily with sour fruit and rust-colored steel that she almost couldn't pinpoint it. She lifted a hand carefully, patting it against a well-muscled chest. "S'okay," she murmured, even as the body under her shuddered.

He'd been tortured. She remembered that. She petted him again, trying to soothe despite drugs and exhaustion. "S'gonna be fine now."