Ryouma's hand spasmed tighter, crushing muscle against bone, and then released. He still couldn't breathe. Something in his chest hurt worse than his knee.

The Inuzuka, even Yasuo, were generally short enough for him to see over their shoulders. Ryouma had a clear view of Kuromaru's bandaged face, of two clawed hands linked like lovers', of Tsume's bent head and a smile too close to tears.

He was awake. Did he know?

Ryouma had never considered himself a coward. Couldn't quite believe what he was hearing himself say now. "I gotta get out of here. Kakashi--"

Yasuo shifted, a flash of movement in Kuromaru's peripheral vision. The maimed head jerked up, single blue eye fighting to track him. Ryouma froze.

Tsume said she understood. But Kuromaru wasn't human; Kuromaru wasn't her. He'd sacrificed himself to save his companion from her partner, and then they'd sliced his ear off and cut his eye out of his skull and held him down while Ryouma pressed a red-hot blade to the bleeding wounds...

He choked on bile. Clenched his aching teeth, and tightened his grip on Kakashi's arm again, and tried not to remember how he'd felt when Shiki returned his vision so that he would see it when they took his eyes.

Kuromaru had seen it.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. It wasn't enough. Wouldn't ever be.

But he had nothing else to offer.