Kakashi thought about it. "I could use a shower."

Fujita grimaced, expression as open as a sunrise. That was a nice trick, wearing emotions that plainly; made him seem trustworthy. "Sorry, but there's no way we're getting you out of here yet, even with an armed guard."

Kakashi didn't sigh. "Figures. Food, then. Something real, with meat in it." He reached out and caught Fujita's wrist again, watching the little jerk as Fujita controlled his first reflex. Definitely a jounin. Kakashi's fingers slid around to the underside of his arm, where they were less easy to see, and tapped a quick, urgent message. Genma out okay?

Fujita nodded infinitesimally.

Still healthy?

Two fingers flicked against Kakashi's knee. Good enough.

There was no lie in Fujita's scent. Kakashi relaxed back against the wall, feeling himself go boneless. He tapped one last message. My chances?

Fujita watched him steadily, eyes dark in the shadows. He was younger than Sugimoto, maybe in his mid-thirties, and definitely handsome. All knife-blade cheekbones and white teeth. They were probably an advantage in his line of work. "I'll get you that food," he said. "And a book to go with it. Keep your head down, Hatake-san. Make my job easier. And don't bite the next medic who comes in."

Kakashi flipped him a silent, two-fingered salute. "Cross my heart," he murmured.

Fujita clapped him once on the shoulder. "Good. Nice haircut, by the way."

Kakashi snorted. "Screw you," he said, and got a flashing, white-toothed smile as Fujita let himself out the clanging iron door.