For Ken, there is no 'first'. Chikusa is so injured that Ken's knowledge of how to treat such things - not inconsiderable, given that they've always had to look out for themselves, but Chikusa gets hurt a lot less than Ken as a ranged fighter so Ken's had a lot less experience - simply doesn't cut it. And he's so furious and distressed that he can't calm down, can't rationalize, can't break it down into fixing one thing at a time or assigning priorities.
Kakipi is as close to broken as he's ever been, and all Ken can think of is finding the nearest person to yell at or tear into until they fix it. Until they fix Chikusa. All the way, as fast as possible, which is why Ken's inclinations are leaning in the exact opposite way of Chikusa's. Shamal is more up their alley, true, and would let them keep a comfortable distance from the main body of the Vongola, but it would mean Chikusa out of commission for...months, probably. The better part of a year, most likely. And with everything done to him, traditional medicine might not even be able to heal all the damage properly - some of it might be lasting. Ken's whole being screams at the idea.
Sasagawa and that box of his, though - as far as Ken knows, there's no particular limitation on the healing it can do. (If there is, it's probably based on the amount of flames required, and as far as that goes, Ken has his own Sun flames to offer on top of whatever Ryohei's got.) And it should be able to restore Chikusa to as good as new, in way less time. With those things taken into consideration, Shamal is only an option if all else fails. Ryohei's going to be his first stop, and heaven help anything standing in his way. Sasagawa included, frankly. If he offers a single word of objection, Ken will steal the damn box and do it himself.
His ring is alight - practically alive - with flames already, simply in response to the extremity of his mood, but Ken's too busy to take notice. It's probably well visible to Chikusa, though, where Ken's cradling his broken legs.
He stops on his full-speed flight through the strangely quiet building - well, perhaps it's not strange that it's quiet after Ken had presumably been through it on his way to get to Chikusa - when Chikusa suggests some more immediate care. Ken's in no position to figure out what needs to be done to fix Chikusa up right now, but he can at least be told what to do by someone with a clearer head. It's ironic that the person thinking the most clearly here is the one in the worst shape.
After some hesitation, Ken unwillingly sets Chikusa down. "We're already going to get you doctored up, byon," he observes, almost sulkily; clearly he's chafing at the delay. But he reaches up to his shoulder, digs his claws into the fabric, and rips the entire sleeve of his uniform jacket off. Mukuro will be a little upset about that, Ken knows, but it's a lot easier to get a new uniform than a new Kakipi. He'll understand.
Ken rips the sleeve open along the seam, then starts tightly binding Chikusa's hand up.
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Kakipi is as close to broken as he's ever been, and all Ken can think of is finding the nearest person to yell at or tear into until they fix it. Until they fix Chikusa. All the way, as fast as possible, which is why Ken's inclinations are leaning in the exact opposite way of Chikusa's. Shamal is more up their alley, true, and would let them keep a comfortable distance from the main body of the Vongola, but it would mean Chikusa out of commission for...months, probably. The better part of a year, most likely. And with everything done to him, traditional medicine might not even be able to heal all the damage properly - some of it might be lasting. Ken's whole being screams at the idea.
Sasagawa and that box of his, though - as far as Ken knows, there's no particular limitation on the healing it can do. (If there is, it's probably based on the amount of flames required, and as far as that goes, Ken has his own Sun flames to offer on top of whatever Ryohei's got.) And it should be able to restore Chikusa to as good as new, in way less time. With those things taken into consideration, Shamal is only an option if all else fails. Ryohei's going to be his first stop, and heaven help anything standing in his way. Sasagawa included, frankly. If he offers a single word of objection, Ken will steal the damn box and do it himself.
His ring is alight - practically alive - with flames already, simply in response to the extremity of his mood, but Ken's too busy to take notice. It's probably well visible to Chikusa, though, where Ken's cradling his broken legs.
He stops on his full-speed flight through the strangely quiet building - well, perhaps it's not strange that it's quiet after Ken had presumably been through it on his way to get to Chikusa - when Chikusa suggests some more immediate care. Ken's in no position to figure out what needs to be done to fix Chikusa up right now, but he can at least be told what to do by someone with a clearer head. It's ironic that the person thinking the most clearly here is the one in the worst shape.
After some hesitation, Ken unwillingly sets Chikusa down. "We're already going to get you doctored up, byon," he observes, almost sulkily; clearly he's chafing at the delay. But he reaches up to his shoulder, digs his claws into the fabric, and rips the entire sleeve of his uniform jacket off. Mukuro will be a little upset about that, Ken knows, but it's a lot easier to get a new uniform than a new Kakipi. He'll understand.
Ken rips the sleeve open along the seam, then starts tightly binding Chikusa's hand up.