The hospital staff move with quiet efficiency the moment Ryoma is brought in, the earlier first-aid treatment quickly replaced with something far more thorough. The bandage along his ribs is removed and redone properly, the wound cleaned again under better lighting, this time with careful attention to depth and trajectory.
What looked manageable in the gym is reassessed with clinical precision, confirming that the bullet only grazed along the surface beneath his arm without penetrating deeper.
After that, Ryoma is guided through imaging. The process takes time, moving from one room to another, the sterile brightness of the hospital replacing the tension of the gym with something colder, more procedural.
After that, Ryoma and Kurogane are eventually led into a consultation room. The doctor enters with a tablet in hand, eyes already scanning through the results before looking up at Ryoma.
"So I heard you repositioned the dislocated shoulder yourself?" she asks.
Ryoma nods. "Yes."
