Genma tried to breathe. She'd promised she could help. Shown him the charts. And Ito-sensei had brought her here. She held her fists in tense balls against her knees. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head bowed between tense shoulders--she was the picture of a child waiting to be beaten.

She'd tried to help. She had helped, Genma realized. The ache of what she'd done lingered, but there was a sense of things--stabilized. A feeling like having a sprained ankle splinted--not healed, but not quite so likely to wobble and turn.

A nurse poked her head in the door, all concern and efficiency. "Genma-san, was that you just now? Are you alright? No, I can see it on your face. Who's this girl? Where's Ito-sensei? You look like you're past due for a shot."

"It's okay," Genma interrupted her. He could hear how ragged his voice was. "She's Ito-sensei's assistant. He's-- He went--"

"Right here," Ito said. He maneuvered around the nurse, syringe in hand, and stepped close to the bed to slide the needle into Genma's IV. "That looks solid," he told Rina. "No hint of a cascade. Well done. I think you'll find working on his left hand will be easier going."

He held the empty syringe up. "Should be easier on you, too, Genma-kun. Sorry about that. I should have dosed you up before I had her start."