"I do!" Ryouma twisted his wrist, but Kakashi's grip was tempered steel; he'd win bruises before release.

Kakashi's wrist was bruised, too. Blurred fingerprints like stormclouds darkened the pale skin where Matsuda had gripped him hard enough to make bone creak. Kakashi had drunk--twice--and then signaled Ryouma to move, ripped free and lunged into his own fight thinking he was a dead man anyway...

And Ryouma hadn't even watched him go, because he knew Kakashi'd get the job done. Trusted Kakashi to fight his own fights and watch Ryouma's back. That was what partners did, wasn't it?

Trust cuts both ways.

"I do," Ryouma said. "I mean, I just told you, didn't I? About-- I wouldn't have if I didn't trust you." He'd told Tsume because he owed her, because she asked and he couldn't refuse. But if he owed Kakashi a debt he'd paid it off as often as he drew on it, and that kind of debt wasn't the kind you cured with telling secrets, anyway. It was the kind that gave, instead of taking away.

He trusted Kakashi to guard his back, to win his fights, to know what to do. To keep his secrets, and understand them. To doze in a hospital room until Ryouma woke up, and to stay until he fell asleep again. To be stubborn and superior and self-sacrificing, and to never ask for more than Ryouma was willing to give.

He'd never really figured out what Kakashi wanted, and somewhere in there he'd forgotten that it might not be what he assumed it was.

And if it wasn't what Ryouma assumed it was, or thought it should be... Did he trust Kakashi to make the choice that was right for him?

Or to be okay if Ryouma wasn't there to watch his back?

Or to stay beyond today, and into tomorrow?

"You always talk about me dying," he said numbly. "S'annoying as hell. But I guess I'm not any better. I still can't quite believe you'll stick around past tomorrow night."

I'm not going anywhere, idiot.

It'd be nice to believe him.