Brief Interlude

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Devil Summoner Raidou Kuzunoha
Summary: Narumi attempts to do what he can for Raidou at the cabin.
Word Count: 1408
Rating: Gen leaning shippy

          The kid’s definitely feverish by the time Narumi settles him in the cabin.  It’s not much of a fire, yet, but its very presence suggests maybe some kinda infection, according to the latest in medicine.  Tae might dismiss him as a dewdropper, but give him some credit—he does read.  There’s also no known cure, at least not one known to science.  It’s up to him to wrangle up a miracle.
          It’s odd enough seeing Raidou without the customary hat.  He never takes that thing off—even, according to gossip, leaves it on in the bathhouse.  As much as he might seem boring, it’s when he gets stubborn about something that you get hints at his personality.  Kid’s an odd bird, sure, but he’s also a good egg.
          It’s odder still—nah, almost sacrilege, really—to be undressing him further, and Narumi’s cheeks heat a little, like he’s gonna get caught doing something naughty any minute now.  The cape comes off, and he’s almost surprised.  With the way the thing moves sometimes, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kinda demon itself, but here it is in his hands, just an inanimate piece of cloth.
          He glances down and starts to buy a clue about the whole thing.  There’s deep tears through the coat and the white shirt underneath.  The blood soaking through just underscores how bad this all is.  If he was awake, the young summoner would be frowning.  Just a little press of a straight, unamused line to the face, probably fleeting.  Kid’s traditional and fastidious.  He wouldn’t be happy about the state of his clothes, particularly with their money situation and all.
          He starts to unbutton the jacket, and Raidou’s face screws up and he practically mewls like a cat in pain.  Which reminds him, he’s got no idea where the little black furball went.  He’s honestly not even sure where the kid’s summoned demons got to, whether they were buying the human’s escape with their lives or what.
          He hums under his breath, and, well, it’s not like he’s got a stage voice or anything, but it’s not bad, particularly with how long it’s been since he’s even tried.  The young summoner appreciates it well enough, anyway, because he quiets a little and stops squirming as much.
          He’s tempted to start beating his gums about what he’s doing.  Explain to Raidou that the jacket has to come off, shirt too, that he has to bandage him up even when he’s got no idea what with.  He tends to gab too much, and yeah, there’s a point where Tae actually knows what she’s talking about, but hey, someone’s gotta fill the silence and it certainly isn’t gonna be the silent Summoner.  If someone’s talking, even if it’s him with no audience, it’s like he’s not quite as alone.
          Instead, he just keeps humming reassuringly, hands working as steady and gentle as he can make ‘em.  When he sees the gashes underneath, that’s different.  He actually has to stop for a moment, pressing a hand to his mouth to keep it together.  He can’t lose it now.
          It’d make so much more sense if he was the one lying there next to the empty, cold fireplace.  There on the rug.  He’s not, generally, a combatant, and anyway, he’d always been the gent with the gun in the army.  He’d been lucky, sure, but between the two of them, Raidou looked almost like he made it a game playing keep-away.  That slim form probably made it easy to dodge.
          His brain still can’t quite make sense of it all.  He gazes around, looking for something, anything, to make bandages. 
          He’d love to have an investigational meeting, sort out his thoughts, find out exactly how they’d gotten into this situation, anyhow.  They’d been called upon to investigate sabotage to an old shrine on the mountain, well-cared for, too.  The family didn’t have clams, really, but they were willing to use their influence to lean on a few that cared to ignore his debts, and they had plenty of trinkets they weren’t willing to sell.  (He hadn’t quite made up his mind about whether he was willing to do so, even when that earned a claw-scratch from the menace of a cat and a judging eyebrow from the kid.)  Raidou, for once, had been somewhat reluctant.  Said he had to think about it and went off to take a streetcar, though of course the excuse he used was that he was late for class, anyhow.  He’d probably gone to confer with a superior in the Yatagarasu, which gets Narumi’s dander up, because the kid shouldn’t have to have every move dictated to him by higher-ups.  He’s more of a free agent than the devil summoner, so he gets to act on his own more until they call in one of his favors, like with housing and mentoring the kid.  (That’s one of the few times he hasn’t actually resented it.)
          There’s a folded sheet that’ll have to do, and some sake on a traditional table.  It’s not ideal, but there’s very little about the situation that is, so it’s not much of a change at all.
          “This’ll sting, Raidou,” he warns, though he’s not sure how aware the Summoner is as he goes to fetch it.
          Raidou came back and agreed to the caper with a nod.  They’d come out to the shrine, seen the graffiti and broken items, and Raidou had confirmed it was demons (how he’d known, he’d never said, but he didn’t like revealing his methods any more than he liked chatting about home, or, generally, talking).  They’d just been having a stroll, trying to decide how to start the investigation the next day because it was getting late, when they’d been attacked, fast enough the few glimpses Narumi got didn’t make all that much in the way of sense, particularly since he hadn’t much in the way of knowhow to guess which demons were fast and what the location of horns, claws, and tails meant in the way of a culprit.  He’d lost sight of the infernal cat near the very beginning, and he was fairly certain that demons were probably the ones in on the attack (and, likely, he realized with guilt, the Summoner had been injured attempting to protect him of all things).
          When he returns, it seems like the Kuzunoha senses his presence because a hand clamps on to his upper arm.  “Not that I’m not grateful,” he states quietly, wincing a little as he pours the alcohol to clean the wound and Raidou’s grip on his arm suddenly grows tight as a vise, “…but you gotta stop throwing yourself in harm’s way for every single person.  You’re worth more than me, you hear?”
          He nearly jumps through the roof when he hears a whisper in response.  Wide-eyed, he turns down to Raidou, and befitting the stubborn nature Raidou’s got, the sound comes again.
          He kneels close to listen, and finally hears, “tube”.
          “I’m gonna wrap you up so you stop leaking all over this nice Yuki-onna’s rug, and then you can have at it,” Narumi responds forcefully, because the Summoner will probably do better at whatever he’s planning if he’s at least being held together by something other than sheer will.
          The corner of one mouth twitches, and there’s a feeble nod before he subsides again.
          Narumi lets his mouth run about any old thing as he works, now that he knows he has an audience, and it seems the kid doesn’t mind.  He feels a little better about his wrap job, too.  Nonsensical, but there you have it, even the mind of a modern man’s a little superstitious at times.
          Kuzunoha’s still a little too stiff, even for his usual stance.  He doesn’t stir when the detective finishes.
          “You still in there, kid?”  The hand on his shoulder twitches, and it’s as good as a nod.  “I’m going to take that bean-shooter you got there and do a sweep, make sure we’re alone out here.”  That gets an expression, too, but Raidou’s in no shape to do it, and anyway they’re both goners if they get ambushed again.  He’ll be careful, of course.  “You need to summon now?”
          There’s a moment or two before the kid deliberately shakes his head.  It’s not a big movement, but when he’s watching like a hawk he’s bound to catch every little twitch.