Apparently, one major difference between wolf and woman was that lash marks on a woman looked so much worse. He stared at blue-black-red for a long moment before his brain caught up and reorganized the image into something understandable. A double fistful of whip marks sliced through already scarred skin, criss-crossing down the entire length of that lean back. Blood ran in slender trickles; bruises faded into the background like a purplish watermark.

Softly, Asuma whistled. The sound caught in his dry throat.

"Guess we know who's getting the most baddass ninja award when we get home," he said, sketching half a smile. "Me, obviously. But you get close second."

Tsume snorted, twisting to look at him over her shoulder. Through her human throat, the sound came out higher, lighter, with no depth of gravel. Across her jaw and throat, the stitches he'd put in made an ugly black line. He'd need to bandage those, too.

She was very definitely not wearing a bra.

And now that's sexy? Asuma thought, leashing back his own snort.

Tsume kept her shirt held up. He doused her back with the last splash of antiseptic, let her work through the wince, then took the first untangled spool of bandage she'd dropped to one side, and re-rolled it. Slowly, her legs stretched out as she leaned back towards him, close enough for him to get a halfway comfortable angle. He tied a loop around the lowest part of her torso, knotting it firmly around slim hips, then began to unwind it, passing it between his hands around and around her body, covering the whole bloody mess with white that soon stained pink. It wasn't a neat job--hell, it wasn't even a clean job--but at least it would stop the bleeding and offer some measure of protection. A bit of support.

Reaching her breasts was interesting.

For a moment, Asuma hesitated, shamelessness and common sense warring with each other, and then just kept going. Her shoulderblades were as cut up as the rest of her; they needed bandaging, and those bandages had to anchor around something. He kept his hands moving briskly, very much not thinking about what she was probably thinking about--whatever he was, he wasn't like those bastards had been--and finished the job. It took three rolls of bandages and not a little pain, what with having to keep his arms raised, but the end result made him snort with laughter.

"Double set of corsets," he said, tugging her shirt back down and ruffling her hair. "I like it."