After the doctor, Satsuki, cleaned Sakura up and bandaged her wounds, she looked at Kurogane and the others. Fai and the new Sayoran had already treated their acid burns. The ninja had only wiped off his face, head and hands with the solution-treated towel she'd handed him. His shirt and pants had protected most of the rest of him, but his back had had virtually no protection. The clone's stolen magic had ripped up both the shirt and the skin of his back. Satsuki didn't understand how he could still be moving. He'd refused treatment, earlier. Since Fai had been so critically injured, she hadn't protested then. She was determined that he wasn't going to escape her, this time.

"All right, big guy, your turn."

Kurogane looked at her. Satsuki marched right up to the ninja and glared at him.

"Shirt off, and lay down on the bed on your stomach."

"Tch. So troublesome," he grumbled.

She snorted. "You're right. It's going to be a bitch to get that shirt off, now that the blood's dried and it's become part of your skin. I'm going to have to cut it out of your back."

Kurogane's eyes widened. He took a step back when she produced a pair of scissors. She resisted the urge to snip them at him. She knew he was a fighter; she'd seen him go up against Kamui and he'd smiled. No one else, other than Fuuma, had been able fight Kamui and live. She had no wish to get slammed into the wall. Or worse.

Kurogane felt a touch on his arm. He looked at Sayoran, who'd moved up beside him. The kid looked up at him with worried brown eyes.

"Please, Kurogane-san," Sakura said from the huge bed. He'd thought she'd fallen asleep. Fai was sitting beside her, but for once, there was no expression on the mage's face. He didn't smile at Kurogane, didn't chirp some inane comment with a Kuro-pon, Kuro-ti or some other nonsense attached to it.

Kurogane sighed. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, there was pain and fatigue in his face before he locked it back down. He nodded tiredly and began to fumble at the buttons of his shirt.

"Don't bother with that," said the doctor. "Sit down. Let me do all the work."

Kurogane watched in numb bemusement as the doctor efficiently cut the shirt off of him. Then she reached for the bucket she'd brought with her, squeezed excess moisture out of the towel she fished out of it and began to rub the cloth down his arms. The liquid it'd been soaking in was warm, and it felt comforting as it wiped away the sweat. He barely noticed when she started working on his chest. He felt much cleaner, already. But his back was really starting to hurt, now. Most of his concentration went to fighting the pain.

Under her gentle prodding, he stretched out on the bed, belly down. Sakura reached for one of his hands, and he looked at her. She gave him a tired smile. He let her hold his hand as the doctor worked on his back, somehow soaking the strips of cloth she'd left behind when she cut the rest of the shirt away and worked the cloth carefully out of his wounds. Then he felt salve being applied to his back and the stinging eased. As the pain lessened, his muscles relaxed. Distantly, he heard Sakura humming something as she gently stroked his hand. He never felt the doctor get off the bed.

Satsuki smiled as she looked down at her patient. She knew that once she had him lying down and his injuries had been treated, nature would take its course. You could push your body only so far. She drew Sayoran to the door and spoke to him in a whisper. "Let him sleep. He needs it."

Sayoran nodded. "Thank you, doctor-sensei."