Water is cascading down in sheets turning the paths to slick mud and making seeing more than a few metres difficult. When it rains like this, the tree branches are slippery where the moss holds the water and turns to slime at the edges.

Jiroubou winces as Tayuya curses and slams a roll of bandages down on the tabletop. Shaking his head he moves into the next room, an expression of sorrow on his wide features. Tayuya voices a string of obscenities as she unwraps salves and scissors with one hand, the other cradled to her chest. Kidoumaru watches her from the far corner where he is combing knots out of his dripping hair. Parting it three ways he begins to wrap it into a plait.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“I don’t need your help, shithead.”

He sighs so quietly that it passes unheard and ties off the braid at the bottom, flicking it over one shoulder and shaking his head to make it settle.

“You haven’t got the right angle, it’ll be easier for someone else to do. If it gets wrapped wrong it’ll heal funny. Take longer.”

Tayuya glares at him, then turns her back and thumbs the salve tub open, its rich, spicy scent filling the air with the odour of medicine. Kidoumaru flips the radio on, drowning out the thundering of the rain and pads softly over to stand behind her. The lilting tones of the latest pop diva fill the air as he reaches down and pulls off the plastic wrapping of the bandages, handing the roll to Tayuya. Her lips harden into a line as she accepts it with her uninjured hand and begins to bind her wrist, ungraciously allowing him to hold the other end in place.

Standing patiently at her side, Kidoumaru runs his eyes over her back and shoulders. The pale fabric of her tunic is muddied and striped with green from where she slipped and fell against a tree trunk. Beneath her hair her neck has been scraped raw and he reaches down with one hand to retrieve a bottle of clear antiseptic and a pad of cotton wool.

Tayuya doesn’t react when he applies it to the wound, dabbing gently to remove the dirt and mud. He hisses softly between his teeth, “I hate this stuff. I always find it stings something wicked.”

“That’s because you’re pathetic.”

Kidoumaru just grins and continues to work his way along the wound. Carefully he reaches up with his second set of arms and holds the cloth of her tunic to one side whilst he dabs at the edges of the abrasion. The nin-girl ties off the bandage around her wrist, slipping a safety pin into the fabric to hold it in place and tucking it away under a fold. She sits still as he runs the cotton wool across the wound, her eyes following the rain that lashes at the window.

“Goddamn weather,” she mutters irritably. “I hate this dump.”

Kidoumaru makes a noise of agreement in his throat, happy to let her grouse her way out of her irritation.

“Could be worse,” he says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Kimimaro could be here. You know, angsting. “Oh, Orochimaru-sama! Why don’t you love me as I love you? My heart it beats only for you, my love! Let me kissy kissy you!””

“You’re so not funny.”

He grins as he pats her wound dry. Her reflection in the window opposite betrays the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and he tosses the cotton wool onto the table, resting his hands on her shoulders and tilting back his head.

“Oooh, my love! Woe! Woe is meee!”

“Asshole! Shut up!”

Kidoumaru laughs and then laughs harder as Jiroubou passes by the doorway to the other room, peering in at them and frowning disapprovingly.

“Hey, you’re really tense you know,” Kidoumaru says suddenly, thoughtfully kneading at her shoulders. Tayuya doesn’t reply at first, too busy raising a hand in a rude gesture to their comrade that makes Jiroubou frown harder and shake his head. It’s not until Kidoumaru places a second pair of hands in the small of her back to brace himself that she turns her head suspiciously to see what he is doing. He cuts her off with a string of prattle before she can even begin to comment, drowning out any protest with his cheerful enthusiasm.

“My mother always used to say that sleeping in draughts weakens the muscles in the long run, because you keep on relaxing them and bunching them whilst you’re still asleep, but they’re stiff from the cold so it tears up the muscle. It means you have to keep working the knots out so that can’t happen…”

Outside a sudden harsh gust of wind throws a handful of raindrops at the window, and as though this is some kind of signal, the clouds relax their grip on the rain, leaving it to hammer down in a sudden crescendo of noise that drowns out the other nin’s voice. Tayuya huffs softly, and turns her attention back to the window. She could tell him how much she doesn’t care what his stupid mother thought, but it would be too much effort to raise her voice above the roaring of the rain. And if she did, he might stop kneading her shoulders. Although she would never admit it if asked, Kidoumaru gives the best back rubs out of anyone she’s ever met.

She sighs softly, letting her shoulders relax into his touch and feeling the movement, he brings his third set of arms up to join the others. One pair kneading her shoulders, one pair working the lower back whilst the final pair holds her tunic in place to avoid any embarrassment. Tayuya is glad he does that without her having to say anything. She has never even needed to scowl at him to make him respect the fact that she doesn’t need him groping her inappropriately. Not that Kidoumaru would ever do that she thinks. He knows better than to piss her off.

Behind her Kidoumaru grins happily and lets his eyes settle on the rain-streaked windowpane. Three pairs of hands are better than one, he thinks to himself. And Tayuya, eyes half-closed, watches his reflection grinning in the window and thinks that perhaps, Kidoumaru might be useful for something after all.