Ah.

Katsuko's breath escaped her again, but this time for entirely different reasons. After a moment, she turned till she could see Ryouma's face out of the corner of her eye.

And smirked. She caught his gaze and held it, feeling his breath stir the loose hair across the nape of her neck.

"Well, if you insist," she drawled, voice low and steady as her hands rose to the first clasp. "It will make all this easier."

The armored vest came off deliberately; Katsuko eased out of the cracked and punctured thing like she had all the time in the world. The sting of numerous scrapes and cuts along her shoulder blades was nothing compared to the pleasant burn coiling low in her stomach. Rolling her shoulders, she dropped her chest plate on the floor and turned her back on Ryouma.

There was a moment of forbidding silence. After a few seconds, Ryouma hissed a bitten-off curse between his teeth and shifted. Katsuko gritted her teeth at the first light touch of the alcohol swab at the base of her neck. The blood was most clotted there, where the only thing between her skin and the wall had been the black turtleneck.

For someone with such big hands, his touch was soft. She bent her head as his callused fingers skated along the tops of her shoulders and absent-mindedly reached up to pull her hair away from sweat-slick skin. Their hands brushed against each other briefly and she suffered an almost electric jolt; she jerked her arm away with a muttered apology and focused on the opposite wall instead.