"If it's only been an hour and you already pissed off Arakaki enough he did this to you.." Genma shook his head with a chuckle. "I guess that's how we know it's really you, and not some badly made attempt at infiltrating ANBU HQ."

Genma reached a hand out and touched Haruichi's belly. Still soft, that was a good sign. Probably no internal bleeding then. "He's actually right, Rai, he's probably not gonna bleed to death internally. It's the clot that's forming in his brain from the head injury that will kill him if we let him go back to being a doctor instead of taking him over to be a patient."

He took his hand back and gave Haruichi a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry sensei, but we prefer you alive, even if you are a pain in the ass. Your work will just have to wait. We'll take our life-threatening injuries to Kanae-sensei until you're back on your feet."

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Raidou rolled his eyes and adjusted his hold slightly. "His brain would be inside his head, correct? Which counts as internal. Which means if he dies of blood loss, or a blood clot, or any sort of intracranial bodily fluid activity, that counts as internal bleeding."

Medics made things so complicated for no good reason.

"But you're not allowed to die," he added, talking in the firm tone of one who would Make That Happen if he had to. "Not until you make it to lunch, at least. Dying in your first hour would really just rank as pathetic." He picked up the pace slightly, keeping Haruichi as steady as humanly possible, and added as an afterthought, "Kid."

Getting someone angry was generally a surefire way of keeping them awake, even through a concussion. And Haruichi was the type to crawl through a mile of broken glass before he'd lie down and take an insult... lying down.

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"That's it," Haruichi muttered, cracking open his white eyes and glaring at Raidou's collar with all the vindictiveness he could muster. "I am not a kid, Namiashi. Forget that again and one day when I'm stuffing your organs back in I'll forget about the surgical niceties and just jam your kidney up your nose."

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"There's the sugarplum we all know and love," said Raidou, perfectly deadpan. "You have such beautiful sweet talk, kiddo. It brings a delighted tear to my eye."

His shirt was quite probably quailing in terror, but Raidou was made of sterner stuff. One half-dead Hyuuga did not a threat make.

"So is it just my kidney you have plans for, or do the rest of my insides get to play, too?"

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"You should probably stop now, Rai, before he jyuukens your spleen. I wouldn't put him past it, even concussed."

Genma put a restraining hand on Haruichi's arm. "Don't do it, Sensei, or I'll have to hurt you. And I really don't want to do that."

Friendships, like everything else in life, had priorities, after all. Actually the last time he'd seen Haruichi, Genma and Raidou hadn't even known each other. That was kind of a shock to realize. In six short months Raidou had managed to crowd out every other friendship Genma had. Almost like a new lover would. He looked up at his strong-jawed friend and blinked.

There was something there that bore a little thought. Maybe a lot of it.

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Haruichi hissed like a snake in a basket... which had just been poked with a stick. Genma intervened with his cursed diplomacy before Haruichi could assure Raidou that oh yes, he could rest assured his medic was writing up a veritable dancecard for the rest of his organs. So the medic instead made a valiant attempt at whacking Raidou in his smug maw. Which might have worked, had he even the slightest idea of which way was up. And his elbow hadn't mutinied.

"Screw it. I don't have the motor-skills to smack him right now." He settled for propping his arm up, wavering alarmingly in the air but hand more or less parallel to target. "Genma, go and bash his face into my palm."

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