| [Jun. 13th, 2009|06:26 pm] |
Hiro turned back towards the paired hospital beds, his thickly-veined eyes firmly shuttered and clear of emotion. Behind them, though, discomfort was building rapidly. No matter what Raidou thought of him personally--he didn't care!--he couldn't just allow Raidou to treat him this way. If Hiro was acting on his own it wouldn't matter, but in this case the precedent would be completely unacceptable: he was representing not an individual, but a position.
The field agents could hate Intel all they liked, as far as Hiro was concerned, but debriefers had to have respect.
Kotoe-san should have stayed, he thought with a growing edge of desperation. Or someone else--anyone else. The fact was, gaining respect was not where his skills lay. He was, at heart, an Intel field agent: unassuming and inconspicuous, far more likely to under-inspire and over-perform than the other way around. In many cases that was exactly what was called for; in this case it seemed to have utterly backfired. There were others, older and more intimidating--and taller-- who would have been much better suited for this task.
He corralled his thoughts firmly before they could continue spiraling down that path. Because it wasn't entirely true, not at all. With Genma--who was, after all, the assigned subject of this debriefing--his methods had worked fine. The last time, once he'd accurately sized up the situation and Genma's state of mind, he'd managed to put the injured and mission-wary ninja at his ease well enough. In this case--even though the circumstances were far worse, even after reading Kotoe-san's cautionary report--he'd felt confident going in that he could do the same.
Now, with Raidou's disparagement clear for even Genma to see, he no longer felt anywhere near so sure.
Still, he had to handle it. It was his mission, every bit as crucial as any midnight reconnaissance or wartime "retrieval" he'd ever been on. If he didn't do it, who would?
Setting down the refilled cup of water, his hand didn't shake. "I'll go get a medic, if you'll excuse me." Smooth glassy tones, fluid and in control, neglected to provide Raidou's comment with the validation of any direct response. But, stepping with Hyuuga grace over a spilled puddle of IV fluid and slipping momentarily out of the hospital room, Hiro thought--with considerable intensity--that now would be a great time for a brilliant flash of insight.
As usual, his eyes failed to oblige. |
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