"No hits," Genma groaned. "Nothing. Shoulder, leg, that was it." But Kannon's sweet tears it hurt now, and blood like that didn't just come from nowhere. His hand found its way to his belly, probing for something, anything, that might indicate a blow he'd somehow forgotten, but by now his whole abdomen was rigid and painful. Free blood in the belly would do that, he thought--he could still remember his student lectures on internal blood loss. On shock. Still remember the warning that the stupidest mistake a field medic could make was to miss a spleen fracture and let a curable ninja bleed to death.

But he hadn't taken a body blow--there was no way he'd injured his spleen. Besides, that didn't make you puke mouthfuls of blood. It didn't make sense, and his head hurt and he was so, so cold...

He let his eyes drift closed, losing himself in the sound of Hayate's voice. Pills. Pills. Blood pills...

"Gave you one," Genma said, and forced heavy lids open to find Hayate's dark eyes, wide and frightened-looking, staring back at him.

Blood pills. He should take one. Maybe that's what Hayate meant?

Icy fingers fumbled at the medkit in his belt pouch, pulling the slim metal vial of light-sensitive tablets free. He held it in his hand a long moment, drifting again in the spaces between too-rapid heartbeats.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, jostling him. Hayate's far-away voice rasped his name, breaking pitch with alarm. Genma took a sharp breath, made a soft, pained sound, and remembered what he was doing again. Pills. He took two, chewing them to make them act faster. They tasted of metal and life and death, and he had to fight to get them down, swallowing against the churning rebellion in his gut.

"Okay..." He pushed himself to think. "Okay. Water. Need volume now. I'll be okay."