| Not That Kind of Hand Job [Genma & Haruichi] | [Oct. 5th, 2010|12:13 pm] |
[Slight backstory: Takes place the day following The Shadow Proves the Sunshine, when Genma and Raidou are still in hospital.]
Less than forty-eight hours after his second hand operation, Genma was back in for more chakra surgery. It wasn't unexpected, and truthfully, he was glad to be out of bed for a bit, though less so to be separated from Raidou. But Raidou had been whisked off to his own appointment with the burn specialists at the same time they'd come with a wheelchair for Genma. Probably by design.
They hadn't really talked yet about that kiss on the balcony. Genma figured he ought to give Raidou some time to digest it. And truthfully, they'd both been too tired to do anything much more than sleep. Raidou wasn't avoiding him, though. That was a good sign. Genma hoped.
The chakra work with Ito-sensei was...
Best forgotten.
Of course they'd drugged Genma up for it, and numbed out the whole arm with several precisely placed senbon, and Ito-sensei himself was a master of encouraging distraction, talking to Genma about his garden, and his daughters and their unsuitable suitors, and anything under the sun to keep Genma from thinking too deeply about the manipulations he was working.
When it was over, Ito took out the needles, repositioned the metal fixators, and promised Genma that this time physical rehabilitation would be a lot easier than it had been four years before. Then he patted him on the shoulder and turned him over to his assistant, Sanji.
Genma closed his eyes and rested, grateful that Ito had thought to include an anti-nausea drug in the mix he'd administered. Sanji pushed his wheelchair out into the PT room and up to a sinister looking machine. The device. Passive range-of-motion activator, with chakra-stimulation. Four years ago Genma had learned to hate it. In the time intervening, the hand clinic hadn't changed much. A few new faces, a few new pieces of equipment, but mostly it looked the same now as it had then.
Sanji reached for Genma's hand. "You ready, Genma-san?"
Genma opened his eyes and forced a tight-lipped smile. "Yep. Hook me up." He held his left arm up for the medic, then turned his face away while Sanji disconnected the framework of metal struts holding his hand immobile, and gently placed his palm and forearm in the machine's cradle. It was set up for him already, the supports perfectly molded to each swollen, bruise-black finger. Sanji turned a dial on the machine, and needles of chakra raced through freshly-repaired coils.
Sanji touched Genma's shoulder. "I'm leaving it at this setting, if you think you can tolerate it. Tell me if it's too intense."
"It's fine," Genma answered. "No, wait. A little--"
"A little lower," agreed Sanji. When he dialed the machine down a notch, Genma breathed easier. It wasn't so bad, and he'd done this before. The faster he got through this, the faster he'd be back to active duty. And he would be back to active duty, just as soon as his injuries were healed. He'd promised Raidou. The machine started its sequence of manipulation, lifting each finger in turn. When it got to his ring finger, Genma went a little pale. He took a deeper breath and refocused on Sanji. Cute. Blond, broad-shouldered, just a little older than Genma. It had been a woman assistant four years ago. Genma wondered where she'd gone.
There. Yes. OK, he'd gotten through it. It was back to his middle finger, where it hurt less. |
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