"Just Tsume," she said, watching closely as slim fingers petted her familiar. But Kuromaru only sighed in his not-sleep, seeming to melt father into the pavement.

Her eyes flicked up to the nurse as he came through the doors, took one look at Kuromaru, looked at the pair of ANBU, apparently decided them unfit and went back inside mumbling about 'getting help.'

Tsume snorted, handing back the sword and bottle with a barely disguised wince. Maybe it was a little more than heavy. And maybe Kuromaru wasn't the only one who was tired. "Once this lot gets their act together, we'll be just fine." After Kuromaru was settled it wouldn't take her long to get back to headquarters. Maybe she could convince Ryouma they should go to bed early. Or at least she should nap, and he could do whatever he felt like. She saw the nurse coming back with a helper and a gurney, and, certain they hadn't been forgotten about, turned back to Hayate.

Nice kid. Skinny, with pale skin and dark eyes and hair that only made his skin seem paler. Just a few inches taller than her--probably still growing, but taking it nice and slow, so his hips had time to keep up--and still fairly gawky.

Definitely needed food. Tsume nodded once, decisively, and stepped aside as the nurses shifted the gurney around to try and load Kuromaru up. "Next time you see me, flag me down. I'll buy you dinner." She grinned, but made a mental note to flag him down, instead. Somehow, she doubted he'd impose. Too polite. Maybe if she harassed him enough he'd break that shell...

If there was a gleam in her eyes, it was entirely wicked.