"I'm not giving you a look," Raidou protested, midway through eyeballing Genma with an expression that would have put Arakaki to shame. "This is just my face."

Genma studied him for a moment, then shaped his features into an identical mirror. Only... more so. His eyes narrowed, his jaw hardened, his eyebrows drew down and somehow managed to look thicker without ever actually changing. Raidou blinked. It was like staring at his own face, written over a leaner, unscarred frame, without the benefit of a reflective surface.

Then Genma cracked up.

"Very funny," Raidou muttered grouchily, and smoked the last half-inch of cigarette. He flicked the butt over the railing, disposing of the evidence, and wished for another. One was only enough to give you a craving. Even two would only just about take the edge off.

And that way led straight back to addiction. It'd been hard enough to quit last time.

He stretched out a leg to kick Genma's still-laughing foot, ignoring the way his own lips wanted to twitch. It wasn't funny. People had been sneaking around in their room.

Okay, doctors. But still.

"Anything else you want to admit to, while you're in a confessing mood?" he said, lowering his voice to an exaggerated threatening rumble. "After-hours nurses? Seductionist buddies dropping by to throw tea-parties? Because there's a railing right here I can toss you over. It's no trouble."