"You can't beat dozens of people singlehanded, but you can walk on broken legs?" Ken scowls, even as he angrily scoops Chikusa up in his arms like he weighs nothing. He's not particularly concerned with complicating any of his injuries; Chikusa's done a good enough job of that by himself that Ken doubts he could do any further damage personally.
"And you're getting fixed up, byon! Mukuro-sama said so, byon!" Ken retreats to the highest court of authority with them. There's no arguing with something Mukuro said, not with them.
The question is, of course, whether Mukuro said anything specific about this, or if Ken's loosely interpreting a general statement for his own purposes. Even an obedient dog may...creatively interpret commands at times. In this case, Ken may not even be wrong to do so if he's doing more than Mukuro ordered; after all, a crippled Chikusa isn't something any of them want, so he has to get treated, right? And with wounds this severe, it makes sense to go demand healing of Ryohei, or to see what Shamal can do for a male patient under threat of immediate and extreme violence.
That's the one good thing (in the Kokuyo gang's mind) about the Vongola under Tsuna; they're soft enough that it's not particularly difficult to hit them up for things they really need, even if Mukuro's pride and the group's general hatred of the mafia means that they only ask in extreme circumstances. Shamal would definitely need a beating just to get started, but Ryohei might be immediately cooperative. (Or, Ken suspects, he can be cheaply bribed with a boxing match. That's what he wanted the last time he and Ryohei interacted to any degree.)
It's at times like this that Ken wishes he had rings, or boxes, or something like that. Maybe he could heal Chikusa, if he did, instead of having to outsource the job. Healing is as far from Ken's wheelhouse as it's possible to get, but it's not like it's a skill their group couldn't use...
It doesn’t take a lot to get Chikusa to cooperate physically, at least. There’s no fight when Ken scoops his long thin frame into his arms. Quite the opposite. Chikusa crumples into him like a puppet whose strings have been cut. His head lolls a bit, coming to a rest against Ken’s shoulders, and he sighs quietly. This is going to be troublesome. It’s true that Chikusa would never go against one of Mukuro-sama’s, very much like Ken. (Also he’s just as guilty of sometimes creatively twisting them, really.)
However, they know how the Vongola under its tenth generation boss are. That softness is more than easy enough to exploit, if you’re clever enough or even if you just don’t do anything and let them worry. At the same time… Chikusa can recall too easily when they were told how Sawada was concerned about them, and the strange feeling that had twisted nauseously in the pit of his stomach.
If it’s Shamal, that’s fine. A bed and access to medical equipment will do Chikusa well enough. When he’d been young, fumbling with freedom and still shy to the loyalty that had been sprouting from his beating out, he’d slipped back into the Estraneo labs desperate for something to arm himself with. There hadn’t been much, in the aftermath. Scalpels and blood splattered reports and decaying corpses. Yet someone with enough desire, enough desperation, can find anything if they try. Being quiet and fading into the background had done him good before freedom, had let him eavesdrop on conversations and frustrations and what experiments actually meant. He’d dug through the papers and files that had been left behind and learned all sorts of things. It had been a struggle, figuring out such complicated words and diagrams as a child, but… It’s the reason he can craft complicated poisons for his needles, how he can sneak a simple child’s toy in as a complex weapon. He knows enough about the human body now, too. They’ve only had each other for so long, what else is he supposed to do when they get injured? So he’s sure he’d manage fine under Shamal.
But Sasagawa… Through him, the others might find out. Likely will. That uneasy twisted feeling might come back right alongside Sawada, and Chikusa isn’t sure if he can stand that.
That’s a problem for the future. For the present, Chikusa stares down at his injured hand. “...We need to stop the bleeding first, Ken.” Along with so much else, but simple things first.
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.
“I’ll need more care if I bleed out.” If you went by Chikusa’s tone alone, it’d seem as though this were a minor inconvenience than something threatening his life. Thank goodness they hadn’t gotten to his other hand, or that one of the more patient men hadn’t been in charge of the interrogation. He could be in much worse shape, and he knows it. As it is he can push himself up well enough, and watches as Ken wraps the cloth tightly.
“...We’ll probably need to set my legs properly too…” A considering silence. “...I should cut my legs open to look it over.”
"Don't be stupid, byon," Ken snarls at him. "We'll worry about that stuff later, byon! That'd just make you bleed out here if you did it yourself! Let the Vongola worry about it, byon!"
He's already finished wrapping Chikusa's hand, good and tight, and now he scoops him up in his arms again. He's still in Wolf Channel; they're going to make damn good time to the Sasagawa residence. Chikusa, if he's paid enough attention to where Shamal's clinic is, will soon realize they're not going where he hoped they were.
Being called stupid by Ken of all people isn’t a new occurrence, considering they bicker like they’re still children almost constantly, but Chikusa still grumbles out a minor response as he’s hauled up again. After that, however, he seems to space out curled up against Ken’s body. It almost seems as if he might have passed out.
Not only will Ken be able to know that’s not what’s happened just by listening to Chikusa’s breathing, but, soon enough, he speaks up. “...This isn’t the way to Shamal.” Wariness laces every syllable.
If Chikusa had more energy just in general, he’d probably start fighting against this even while injured. Instead, he narrows his eyes. “I don’t want to see Sasagawa.”
Everything wrong about that statement- or at least, that he’s unsure of, powered by his uncertainty- dies on his tongue. He can’t say he’s the best at figuring out people, even if those people are close to him… But Ken’s panic, at least, is clear as day to him. Carefully, he reaches up to touch his face.
The touch focuses Ken's eyes on Chikusa, and if it doesn't exactly calm him then it does seem to still him, eyes fixed on Chikusa's face. There's a touch of color to his face, like he's feeling some of his usual self-consciousness, but also sullen stubbornness - he's not going to back down from his, no matter how embarrassed he is.
His palm stays right where it is, not stroking or tapping or anything. It’s still and cool against the burning heat of Ken’s face. Certain that he has his attention on him and nothing else, Chikusa repeats himself. “I’m here.” He’s nowhere else. He’s not locked in the basement of a mafia hideout, waiting for the next bit of torture. He’s not in a lab, suffocating from the smell of chemicals and his own fear like when they were children. He’s not dead. He’s not even away from his body.
Ken stares at him for a long moment. Then he huffs. "I know that, stupid kappa. I'm holding you, aren't I?"
No one ever said Ken picks up on subtle meanings well.
But, then again, maybe something of the sentiment gets through to him after all. He turns his face toward Chikusa's hand, almost nuzzling it.
"We're still getting Sasagawa's box." He says this like a reminder that this isn't getting Chikusa out of anything, more or less speaking the words into Chikusa's palm.
A frustrated sigh disrupts Chikusa’s calm look. He hadn’t thought Ken would get sidetracked, not in this kind of situation, but he’s still not happy about having to go to Sasagawa at all. “...They get too involved.” Which is to say, Sawada’s group has cared about them all for little to no reason as far as Chikusa can tell.
"I told you, I'll steal the stupid box." Which is easier said than done. What will probably happen, in reality, is that Ken will attack Ryohei, Ryohei will smack him down and interrogate him on why Ken's attacking him all of a sudden, Ken will tell him, Ryohei will give him the box, Ken will bring it back to Chikusa to heal him up, and then Ken will thoughtfully return the box by throwing it through one of the Sasagawa residence windows or something. Or, if he's feeling more charitable, maybe he'll just dump it in their mailbox.
Ken doesn't have this planned out in any way. He knows he beat up Ryohei once; he likely hasn't even thought as far as considering that he'd beaten Ryohei a long time ago, before Ryohei had even undergone any real training in Vongola-style combat and was just your everyday student boxing enthusiast. But he's confident he can get the box, one way or another. Maybe on some level he knows that he could just ask for the box, even if he'd never be willing to ask Tsuna and his Famiglia for help directly. Hence the threats of force, or theft, when really he and Chikusa both know they don't need to resort to such things.
Chikusa's not the only one of them uncomfortable with this. He's just the only one more discomfited than he is determined.
Ken takes off again, Chikusa in his arms. It's nearly half an hour, even at full speed, before they reach the Sasagawa residence; the place where Chikusa had been held hadn't exactly been in the heart of Namimori. In fact, it was far enough on the outskirts to practically not even be in the city anymore.
Once they've arrived, though...Ken simply stands there on the street, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other, looking between the house and Chikusa. His dilemma is painfully obvious - he doesn't know where to leave Chikusa while he goes in after the box. He probably doesn't want to leave Chikusa at all.
By the time they reach the Sasagawa residence, Chikusa has almost managed to nod off. The fact that Ken’s run is loping and rough hasn’t been a problem at all. They’ve had to sleep in worse conditions, after all, so what’s this to Chikusa? Where there’s a will, there’s a way…. And god knows that Chikusa is at any given time longing for rest and apathy.
Besides. Miracle of miracles, no one has seen them and managed to call the cops on a pair of bloodied boys looking like hell.
After a few moments of them having been brought to a standstill outside the place, Chikusa starts to stir. “...Ken? What are you doing?”
"...I need to go in there, byon." This seems like stating the obvious, so it doesn't explain the honestly agonized expression on Ken's face. "What about you, though?"
This may be the most openly distressed Chikusa's ever seen Ken, save for when Mukuro didn't show up at Kokuyo Land because he'd been captured by the Vindice. And Ken's not afraid to be openly upset over things.
What about him indeed. Chikusa’s still in the camp of “don’t bother to go in at atll”, but he knows that there’s no winning with Ken over this. Not while his knees are broken and he’s being carried in his arms and Ken is forever stubborn. Chikusa glances up at the house himself, silent in thought.
“...If I had a weapon…” He’d be able to fend for himself just fine, even like this.
Ken looks startled by that. "Oh yeah!" After some brief deliberation, he hops the wall surrounding the Sasagawa residence - from a standing start, holding Chikusa in his arms; channeling's a hell of a drug - and, after a moment's peering around the yard, finds a stand of bushes to carry Chikusa behind, carefully lying him down so as not to worsen his injuries. Then Ken digs into his jacket, and pulls out - some wonderfully familiar yoyos. And if they have blood smeared on them - presumably from whoever had them, or was simply standing nearby when Ken found them - then hopefully Chikusa can overlook it.
"I found 'em, byon," Ken says, with evident satisfaction. "They smelled like Kakipi."
Relief actually floods through Chikusa’s expression when he sees the two toys-turned-weapons, and there’s actually a bit of speed to the way he reaches for them. Not much, but enough to probably be noticeable to Ken. Chikusa isn’t like Mukuro or Ken, after all. His body was never engineered to be a weapon in of itself. When his back is against the wall or he’s searching out someone to murder on Mukuro’s orders, all he has are things he’s created himself in desperate fits of needing to be safe, needing to be useful.
“...I’ll be fine.” A pause as he looks up at Ken. “..If you’re getting the box, you’ll need the ring too.”
Ken hesitates at that. "...is my ring not good enough?"
Ever since the Vongola went to the future and came back, with Yuni sending a flood of future knowledge along with them, the Kokuyo gang has made use of that knowledge. Ken and Chikusa have rings now, Sun and Rain respectively - highlighting their position as opposites all the more blatantly - because obviously none of them are going to let the grass grow under their feet when the promise of new weapons, new ways for Chikusa and Ken to be useful, presents itself. But mass-produced rings still aren't as common as they eventually will be - Mukuro had taken some pains to find the ones they have - and what rings there are tend not to be particularly powerful. And as for boxes, well, those are still incredibly rare, still technology in development, and Ken and Chikusa don't have any at all.
Ken knows his ring doesn't have nearly the power of Ryohei's Vongola ring. It'll probably take him a lot longer, and a lot more effort, to heal Chikusa than it would Ryohei. But it hadn't occurred to him that his ring might not be sufficient to open the box at all. Chikusa's remark has him stopping to wonder.
Of course he figured Ken wouldn’t have considered something like this. Chikusa knows, which is why he’s made the effort to speak up about it at all. It’s how things have been between them for as long as he can remember: Ken acts, and Chikusa thinks.
...Good thing he’d been conscious in this case.
In response to Ken’s question, Chikusa shrugs. Frankly, he doubts their rings are really good enough for anything right now. As the technology progresses, he has no doubt that Mukuro-sama will keep them right on its tail so that they always have some measure of edge, but for right now… “There’s nothing else like the Vongola rings… The boxes might only match up to them.” A specific key for a specific lock. As far as Chikusa is concerned, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
"Can I even use the Vongola ring, byon?" Ken is frowning now in his uncertainty. Now that Chikusa's made him question one assumption, he's actually considering the other possibilities on his own.
Ken's not exactly stupid, not the way most people would think; he just doesn't bother engaging his brain a lot of the time, acting on instinct and impulse rather than thought.
Maybe he's just going to have to fetch Sasagawa himself.
In theory, he thinks it should only have been the Sky Ring which might cause damage to anyone besides the person it’s bestowed itself upon. That makes sense, from what he knows about the Flames and their various attributes. Sky is Harmony, so that’s probably why it can still carry on a will like that, or maybe it’s because anything that disrupts the harmony it has with a foreign entity….
...Or, more likely, all he can do is bullshit and theorize. Rings and flames aren’t his specialty, biology and poisons are.
He does, however, offer what are surely helpful words.
Ken just scowls at that. "Shamal wouldn't help enough, byon!" And as if that's decided him, he finally pulls himself away from Chikusa, moving away from the wall to glare up at the building.
Then he leaps. He scrambles up the side of the building with the assistance of animal agility and claws, sniffs at the first second-floor window he comes across, then leaps across to the next one down. This one apparently fits Ryohei's scent, and he slides open the window and disappears inside.
Thuds and snarls and yelling are shortly heard. Something shatters. After a minute, the light turns out. Chikusa is left to wonder, and possibly panic. Ryohei's a lot stronger now than he used to be.
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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"And you're getting fixed up, byon! Mukuro-sama said so, byon!" Ken retreats to the highest court of authority with them. There's no arguing with something Mukuro said, not with them.
The question is, of course, whether Mukuro said anything specific about this, or if Ken's loosely interpreting a general statement for his own purposes. Even an obedient dog may...creatively interpret commands at times. In this case, Ken may not even be wrong to do so if he's doing more than Mukuro ordered; after all, a crippled Chikusa isn't something any of them want, so he has to get treated, right? And with wounds this severe, it makes sense to go demand healing of Ryohei, or to see what Shamal can do for a male patient under threat of immediate and extreme violence.
That's the one good thing (in the Kokuyo gang's mind) about the Vongola under Tsuna; they're soft enough that it's not particularly difficult to hit them up for things they really need, even if Mukuro's pride and the group's general hatred of the mafia means that they only ask in extreme circumstances. Shamal would definitely need a beating just to get started, but Ryohei might be immediately cooperative. (Or, Ken suspects, he can be cheaply bribed with a boxing match. That's what he wanted the last time he and Ryohei interacted to any degree.)
It's at times like this that Ken wishes he had rings, or boxes, or something like that. Maybe he could heal Chikusa, if he did, instead of having to outsource the job. Healing is as far from Ken's wheelhouse as it's possible to get, but it's not like it's a skill their group couldn't use...
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However, they know how the Vongola under its tenth generation boss are. That softness is more than easy enough to exploit, if you’re clever enough or even if you just don’t do anything and let them worry. At the same time… Chikusa can recall too easily when they were told how Sawada was concerned about them, and the strange feeling that had twisted nauseously in the pit of his stomach.
If it’s Shamal, that’s fine. A bed and access to medical equipment will do Chikusa well enough. When he’d been young, fumbling with freedom and still shy to the loyalty that had been sprouting from his beating out, he’d slipped back into the Estraneo labs desperate for something to arm himself with. There hadn’t been much, in the aftermath. Scalpels and blood splattered reports and decaying corpses. Yet someone with enough desire, enough desperation, can find anything if they try. Being quiet and fading into the background had done him good before freedom, had let him eavesdrop on conversations and frustrations and what experiments actually meant. He’d dug through the papers and files that had been left behind and learned all sorts of things. It had been a struggle, figuring out such complicated words and diagrams as a child, but… It’s the reason he can craft complicated poisons for his needles, how he can sneak a simple child’s toy in as a complex weapon. He knows enough about the human body now, too. They’ve only had each other for so long, what else is he supposed to do when they get injured? So he’s sure he’d manage fine under Shamal.
But Sasagawa… Through him, the others might find out. Likely will. That uneasy twisted feeling might come back right alongside Sawada, and Chikusa isn’t sure if he can stand that.
That’s a problem for the future. For the present, Chikusa stares down at his injured hand. “...We need to stop the bleeding first, Ken.” Along with so much else, but simple things first.
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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.
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“...We’ll probably need to set my legs properly too…” A considering silence. “...I should cut my legs open to look it over.”
It’s a very blasé comment, all things said.
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He's already finished wrapping Chikusa's hand, good and tight, and now he scoops him up in his arms again. He's still in Wolf Channel; they're going to make damn good time to the Sasagawa residence. Chikusa, if he's paid enough attention to where Shamal's clinic is, will soon realize they're not going where he hoped they were.
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Not only will Ken be able to know that’s not what’s happened just by listening to Chikusa’s breathing, but, soon enough, he speaks up. “...This isn’t the way to Shamal.” Wariness laces every syllable.
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It's clear where Ken's putting his priorities.
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If Chikusa had more energy just in general, he’d probably start fighting against this even while injured. Instead, he narrows his eyes. “I don’t want to see Sasagawa.”
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There's a definite undertone of urgency to that statement. Borderline panic, in fact. What Ken may have meant instead was I need you to get healed.
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“Ken.”
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"...what?"
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His palm stays right where it is, not stroking or tapping or anything. It’s still and cool against the burning heat of Ken’s face. Certain that he has his attention on him and nothing else, Chikusa repeats himself. “I’m here.”
He’s nowhere else. He’s not locked in the basement of a mafia hideout, waiting for the next bit of torture. He’s not in a lab, suffocating from the smell of chemicals and his own fear like when they were children. He’s not dead. He’s not even away from his body.
He’s here. With Ken.
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No one ever said Ken picks up on subtle meanings well.
But, then again, maybe something of the sentiment gets through to him after all. He turns his face toward Chikusa's hand, almost nuzzling it.
"We're still getting Sasagawa's box." He says this like a reminder that this isn't getting Chikusa out of anything, more or less speaking the words into Chikusa's palm.
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Ken doesn't have this planned out in any way. He knows he beat up Ryohei once; he likely hasn't even thought as far as considering that he'd beaten Ryohei a long time ago, before Ryohei had even undergone any real training in Vongola-style combat and was just your everyday student boxing enthusiast. But he's confident he can get the box, one way or another. Maybe on some level he knows that he could just ask for the box, even if he'd never be willing to ask Tsuna and his Famiglia for help directly. Hence the threats of force, or theft, when really he and Chikusa both know they don't need to resort to such things.
Chikusa's not the only one of them uncomfortable with this. He's just the only one more discomfited than he is determined.
Ken takes off again, Chikusa in his arms. It's nearly half an hour, even at full speed, before they reach the Sasagawa residence; the place where Chikusa had been held hadn't exactly been in the heart of Namimori. In fact, it was far enough on the outskirts to practically not even be in the city anymore.
Once they've arrived, though...Ken simply stands there on the street, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other, looking between the house and Chikusa. His dilemma is painfully obvious - he doesn't know where to leave Chikusa while he goes in after the box. He probably doesn't want to leave Chikusa at all.
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Besides. Miracle of miracles, no one has seen them and managed to call the cops on a pair of bloodied boys looking like hell.
After a few moments of them having been brought to a standstill outside the place, Chikusa starts to stir. “...Ken? What are you doing?”
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This may be the most openly distressed Chikusa's ever seen Ken, save for when Mukuro didn't show up at Kokuyo Land because he'd been captured by the Vindice. And Ken's not afraid to be openly upset over things.
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“...If I had a weapon…” He’d be able to fend for himself just fine, even like this.
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"I found 'em, byon," Ken says, with evident satisfaction. "They smelled like Kakipi."
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“...I’ll be fine.” A pause as he looks up at Ken. “..If you’re getting the box, you’ll need the ring too.”
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Ever since the Vongola went to the future and came back, with Yuni sending a flood of future knowledge along with them, the Kokuyo gang has made use of that knowledge. Ken and Chikusa have rings now, Sun and Rain respectively - highlighting their position as opposites all the more blatantly - because obviously none of them are going to let the grass grow under their feet when the promise of new weapons, new ways for Chikusa and Ken to be useful, presents itself. But mass-produced rings still aren't as common as they eventually will be - Mukuro had taken some pains to find the ones they have - and what rings there are tend not to be particularly powerful. And as for boxes, well, those are still incredibly rare, still technology in development, and Ken and Chikusa don't have any at all.
Ken knows his ring doesn't have nearly the power of Ryohei's Vongola ring. It'll probably take him a lot longer, and a lot more effort, to heal Chikusa than it would Ryohei. But it hadn't occurred to him that his ring might not be sufficient to open the box at all. Chikusa's remark has him stopping to wonder.
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...Good thing he’d been conscious in this case.
In response to Ken’s question, Chikusa shrugs. Frankly, he doubts their rings are really good enough for anything right now. As the technology progresses, he has no doubt that Mukuro-sama will keep them right on its tail so that they always have some measure of edge, but for right now… “There’s nothing else like the Vongola rings… The boxes might only match up to them.” A specific key for a specific lock. As far as Chikusa is concerned, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
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Ken's not exactly stupid, not the way most people would think; he just doesn't bother engaging his brain a lot of the time, acting on instinct and impulse rather than thought.
Maybe he's just going to have to fetch Sasagawa himself.
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In theory, he thinks it should only have been the Sky Ring which might cause damage to anyone besides the person it’s bestowed itself upon. That makes sense, from what he knows about the Flames and their various attributes. Sky is Harmony, so that’s probably why it can still carry on a will like that, or maybe it’s because anything that disrupts the harmony it has with a foreign entity….
...Or, more likely, all he can do is bullshit and theorize. Rings and flames aren’t his specialty, biology and poisons are.
He does, however, offer what are surely helpful words.
“I told you we should have gone to Shamal.”
Are we going to have to have one of us NPC Ryohei
Then he leaps. He scrambles up the side of the building with the assistance of animal agility and claws, sniffs at the first second-floor window he comes across, then leaps across to the next one down. This one apparently fits Ryohei's scent, and he slides open the window and disappears inside.
Thuds and snarls and yelling are shortly heard. Something shatters. After a minute, the light turns out. Chikusa is left to wonder, and possibly panic. Ryohei's a lot stronger now than he used to be.
on it
You are a god among men, James
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fuck you too DW I wasn't finished
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