soul_campaign | [16: July 25th, Noon

[It's already past 100 degrees out, so the video catches Kanji in his usual form-fitting sleeveless tops. He's bruised in several places and bandages are stuck on exposed skin every which way to cover up where beaks and claws had broken skin, but the Meister looks a little more tired than anything else. He runs an upper arm over his forehead to mop up a bit of sweat.]

S'dry heat, I know, but it's still hot as balls out--

[Oh. Shit. The red light's on a little sooner than he thought. Well then. Enjoy your colorful comparison, if you can call it that.]

Uh, sup? ...So it's done. Took down our witch, and we got ourselves another Deathscythe runnin' around. But somethin' went wrong after the witch soul was absorbed, so we had to stay in the clinic for a couple days until Naoto stabilized. Whole lotta power rushin' around in the soul beats the shit outta you. Yeah. Who knew? But...

[He turns the device to look over his shoulder. The detective's on the couch in the apartment living room, testing commands against Watson, the rottweiler pup, who is madly wagging his tail and making huffing noises as he sits, lies down, speaks and so on. Camera's back to the owner, who for the moment is still a little distracted by the scene.]

...We're all good, I think. Gotta check back in a day or two for the all clear, but... shit...

[He tightens his jaw and keeps himself as cool as he can be. But he's not looking at the camera and there's the slight tinge of pink across his face, betraying the demeanor just a little.]

I'm jus'... r-relieved, y'know? I thought I fucked up somehow. So I guess consider this a heads up for the guys out there gettin' close to their last few souls: Keep an eye on your partner. Don't let up.

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[She nodded and sidled over as Kanji came to sit besides her. Watson wasn't happy, but he obeyed, hopping onto the couch besides them both and watching.]

[Once Kanji was beneath the sheet, she nodded again and turned, sitting down almost in his lap and pulling her hair forward so he may look at her back. Even that movement was somewhat painful, but she didn't say a word or make a sound.]

[He wasn't sure what to expect by taking a look, but she was having discomfort. Maybe she had bruises that they forgot, or those really painful shallow cuts that happened sometimes, paper cuts that screamed pointlessly, hurting far more than the damage it'd caused. But Naoto's the type to keep her chin up in the face of things like paper cuts. This had to be pretty serious.]

[He lifted the back of her shirt and even now couldn't stop his face from turning pink. Okay, so it was shoulder pain, so he had to look-]

...

[What the- what the hell!?]

[Naoto didn't know how to describe it. Maybe it was a bruise, maybe it was a scratch, or maybe she had gotten something while pushing through the Witch's Madness. At this point, she didn't know.]

[Feeling her shirt lift, she remained still. Her skin was still clammy so she wanted to get this over with. Still, Kanji wasn't saying anything.]

... What's wrong? [Did she need to return to the clinic?]

I... I dunno. [He reached out and brushed a finger against the dark mark against her skin.]

But it looks like y'got some kinda fresh tattoo back here. Black wings.

[He knit his eyebrows in thought.]

I can bandage 'em, put some antibiotic on 'em. Maybe it's best to treat it like a tattoo, make sure it heals right, yeah? Did the Witch Soul do this...? She was a bird witch, but...

[His fingers don't hurt at least, but he knows to touch lightly since her back was hurting.]

... W-What? Tattoo?

[She turned, trying to see, but of course she can't see. But if she thinks about it, that Witch did have one too many tattoos... on her arm. Never saw anywhere else.]

Possibly... If you wouldn't mind, we could try that. [Though, when did it get there? The doctors and nurses didn't say anything.]

[It hadn't hit him until now, and he put his face in a hand.]

...Oh, for- that's why they didn't mention it in the damn clinic! They figured ya caved and got one before the mission or somethin'.

[The hand lowered.]

...But tattoos're harmless. I'll jus' do the stuff I did to take care'a mine so it ain't gettin' infected. It's always tender as hell for a couple days.

[He lowered her shirt, but he reached around a lay a hand against her forehead. She was pretty clammy.]

They needta be covered n' kept clean. I-I got some gauze n' tape in the bathroom.

... Why would I--? Why would they even assume...?

[But she sighed. Why not try getting something new before what could be their last mission?]

[Nodding, she held the sheets tighter as her shirt fell against her back, pausing when his hand rested on her forehead. Hopefully, she would be back at one hundred percent soon... or close.]

Very well. If you wouldn't mind... cleaning up...

Everybody's got a weird-ass reason for gettin' a tat, so I can feel 'em for not really asking.

[It'd been years since he had to do tattoo maintenance, but he had to do it with the added layer of subtlety- he had to hide it from his mom for as long as he could... until he fucked up and she saw it anyway, and tore his ass a new one. That was a night he didn't wanna remember. She was pissed, and he was in middle school and thought he knew everything. It helped that he looked older, fooling the tattoo artist.]

[But what she'd said brought him pause. Then he looked down briefly, pink-faced.]

Y-yeah, I don't- I don't mind. Cool water'll beat the heat and it'll probably feel pretty good on the back right now.

[Appearance doesn't matter when it comes to tattoos either. Her grandfather told her before of working with an officer who had one or two hidden under his uniform. This was, of course, in another country.]

[She nodded, remaining with her back turned so he could take the same spot upon his return]

Thank you.

[16: July 25th, Noon | Video]

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