[Baiken's communicator has decided, as usual, that it feels like turning itself on in video mode right when she would really prefer it not to. For a moment, she doesn't notice it at all. She's a little preoccupied -- her arm is in a sling, her face both bruised and pale from pain. She's in a hospital bed, the blanket thankfully covering up the rest
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...Hn. You know him?
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Will you be alright?
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[Small pause.]
Eto... Thanks. For, y'know, hauling me out here.
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Not that again... You're never giving up, are you.
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...
Did he do that to you?
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[Mirthless snort.] ...Broke my fucking katana and everything.
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So I can see by the 'everything'. Do--
[ Have an awkward pause, Baiken. ]
If you'd like, I could try and fix your katana at least.
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Hell, you can do that? That'd... really be appreciated.
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Yeah...not happy
at all. Why does her archnemesis have to be such a raging pain in the arse?
Needless to say, her voice is terse.]
As much as I am loathe to admit this fact, you were most fortunate to have escaped with what injuries you have.
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...Yeah, no kidding.
Take it you know that asshole?
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From my world, he was the first hero in history to become a Heroic Spirit. And summoned as a Servant, he has committed a number of despicable deeds.
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...Hey.
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Probably a silly question to ask if it still hurts, Johnny-san briefed me.
[On the table-top next to the bed he placed a small kettle and a cup, the aroma was clearly Kombucha that he had been saving in his sleeves from that last Item Rain.]
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[She glanced over at the kettle and cup, eying them for a moment. A frustrated frown twitched onto her lips. There was no way to pick up the cup on her own, not right now. The question comes out honestly, no sarcasm in her tone. She's genuinely at a loss:]
...Anji, how the hell am I supposed to drink this?
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