There was a warning. It the field, it would’ve been more than enough. Not here, though. Not right now. Katsuko lunged and her blow landed solidly—Ryuichi’s head snapped away from the pressure. It took a moment for pain to happen, but once it did, it informed him that it intended to stay for a while.

He worked his jaw around the pain once he could see straight. Touched it gingerly with his hand—Katsuko was seething, and Ryuichi looked at her for a moment, took in her wide eyes and the way her pulse was jumping against her skin.

Then he laughed, low and guttered at the back of his throat.

In the bunker, she’d asked if he was broken. If he was crazy. Ryuichi hadn’t bothered to answer then. There had been a mission to complete, missing-nin who needed to die. It was different now. They could talk and no one would die. The damage was the kind a ninja could recover from. Maybe not a civilian, but neither of them had been civilians for a very long time.

“That’s right,” Ryuichi said, leaning forward until their faces were almost touching, when he could see every detail of her brown eyes, the way they were lighter around the edges and very dark near the irises. “I don’t care.”

She could hit him until he stopped breathing, and it wouldn't make a goddamn difference.