Before.

Iwagakure. When Genma had come home with two shattered hands, two dead teammates, and four years to face the memories before Raidou had ever met him. He'd heard the stories, the rumours, heard the real tale from Genma's own lips the night of their first mission. Seen the nightmares less than two weeks later. In a weird way, it was part of why they'd ever become friends.

But Raidou had sworn he'd never let it happen again. Had promised he'd keep Genma safe. Take the hits for him, keep him on his feet. Be the man at his back, the shield at his front.

The one who got him home alive.

"Well this time you've got me," he whispered, and reached forward. Genma barely moved when Raidou touched him between the eyebrows, fingertips alight with chakra; he was too far gone into shock. And Raidou was damned if he was going to inflict anymore pain. "Go to sleep, kid. It'll be better when you wake up."

The irony of using Green-eyes' jutsu wasn't lost on Raidou. But he was too damn desperate to care.