"Kinky," Genma said with an easy smile. "Haruichi said you were an artist, but I never guessed you did body painting. Do you do tattoos, too?" He laughed and rubbed his leg where her heel had struck, glad she'd kicked the uninjured one. He supposed he had deserved it, though not terribly much. She was the one who was telling tales, after all, and the flash in her eyes definitely said he was right about her having a bright fire inside her silence.

He shifted a little, sipped some more tea. For some reason, maybe it was the stillness of Hoshi's muteness, he found himself unsure how to carry the conversation. Or maybe he was just tired. Three days' rest ought to have been enough, but somehow he found he still wanted to sleep all the time. Since Raidou had been sleeping a lot, too, he figured it was just that it really had been that punishing of a mission, but damn, it was annoying.

The dog choose that moment to yawn, and Genma couldn't help himself when the contagion hit him: his face split open and he gulped air, eyes squinting shut, then opening wide. Unsurprisingly Hoshi was looking right at him. He ducked his head and blushed. "It's not the company, I promise."