Raidou watched the kid; the kid leaned casually back on his elbows and studied the ceiling, apparently content to wait and count tiles until Genma woke up. After a long minute of silence, Raidou realized he'd been relegated to the position of a mildly annoying stick of furniture; ignorable, unless he did a particularly clever trick.

It was, in a word, irritating.

Even more so when he tried to grind his teeth and remembered he was missing a few. The faintest twitch of pale skin around milk-white eyes suggested the kid glanced at him when he hissed softly, but it was impossible to really tell.

On Genma's side of the bed, a heart monitor counted out a quiet, steady beep. The rhythm of semi-unconsciousness. It fluctuated once or twice, suggesting the barest flicker of a dream. Each time, Raidou's fingertips brushed against Genma's jugular pulse, trying to soothe it away. His eyes stayed fixed on the kid.

Unwilling to sleep with a stranger in the room, unwilling to look away even though he couldn't do anything about the brat, gathering boredom forced him to break the suffocating silence first.

"Got a name, kid?"