He found her in her room, as usual. "Karin I..." Kimimaro gritted his teeth. There was no backing out now. "I seem to be bleeding. Fix it." He thought about just walking directly to her bed, where she currently sat, but thought better of spilling blood everywhere. Try as he might, he couldn't get it to stop gushing from the knife wound in his side.
"What the fuck did Orochimaru throw at you this time?! It’s been some time since he’s hit you with something you can’t handle." Her words might have belied her concern, if not for the quaver in her voice. He wasn’t even hurt that badly. Why was she so worried?
He’d been better lately, and she’d been pleased - mostly with herself, she had thought. But underneath her defensive self-interest, she had been very pleased with him as well - with his health, with his progress, with his every trivial success in his training. As unwilling as she was to admit it to herself, Karin kept better track of his victories and defeats than he did. But it’s not like he was keeping track. He moved on from victory and defeat alike with outward apathy and what she knew to be inward indifference to all but Orochimaru’s regard. His physical state was of no consequence to him and rarely altered his mental state.
"Get yourself onto my bed. You should know by now I don’t give a shit if blood gets everywhere."
