Kathy had honestly just expected Crash to slap some antiseptic on the cut and help put something on the cut to stop the bleeding. She was pleasantly surprised to find that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and he even cleaned the blood from the unaffected areas of her hand and arm. He was being far gentler with the wound than she would’ve been, and she felt her guilt gnawing away at her again. [i]‘He’s helping me, the person that hit him when he was trying to help everyone.’[/i]

“One of two things..?” She quietly repeated, surprised by the fact he was making a jest out of the situation. The grin on Crash’s face made her think that she would probably not want a clarification about his exact thoughts, unless she wanted the rest of her blood to rush up into her cheeks. His apology was even more unexpected and she quickly shook her head, “You didn’t do anything to feel sorry for. I just...” She could still remember the sensation when she slapped him. Her lips tightening into a thin frown she continued, “I’m really sorry. It hurt, didn’t it?”

Gasping once, she used her free hand to cover her mouth as the wound wash stung her right hand. She absolutely hated the feeling antiseptics gave. It took the remainder of her willpower and luck to keep from whipping her hand back from Crash as he cleaned the cut. Sometimes she thought the stinging from disinfecting the wound actually hurt more than when she got the wound in the first place. This was one of those cases, although it was probably because she had been too worked up to notice the cut properly back in the student center.

[b]“This might need stitching...I wasn’t aware it was quite so big” [/b]

Breathing out another sigh, she quietly confessed, “It wasn’t. At least, not initially.” By the time Crash kept the swab pressed to her hand and kept her arm elevated, Kathy felt like crying. The kinder he was, the guiltier she felt and basically her emotions were in a mess. She kept thinking about how much she regretted slapping him, how nice and warm his hands were, the pain in her hand, and the fact her hand seemed dwarfed in his. [i]‘... I guess guys’ hands really are that much bigger.’[/i] Under any other circumstances, she was sure her face would’ve turned tomato red from the contact. Crash’s claim about knowing how to stitch brought her back to reality as she couldn’t help but raise a brow in disbelief. Yes, he seemed incredibly apt in nursing wounds, but stitches were an entirely different realm. Finally meeting his eyes again, she could see some sort of expectation in them. Small knots forming in her stomach from the pressure, she decided to go with her own curiosity. “Stitches? Really? Come on, that seems like a bit much. Where or how in the world did you get good at it?” Kathy didn’t know it yet, but a small smile was beginning to form on her face, replacing the worried look she had on for quite some time. “If you can really do it, then why not? I dare you to finish patching me up.”

Before she could hear his answer, two familiar faces entered the infirmary. Criston and the vice-principle. A little surprised at how cold the usually kind VP sounded. Taking in a deep breath, she explained, “It... Was a fight. There was a tall white-haired guy that could breathe fire and smoke that attacked another student, then some sort of dark demon appeared out of nowhere and the two got into a brawl and...” She trailed off, not sure how she could explain all the chaos. Looking at Crash her eyes seemed to be asking for help.