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<br/>​</div>Shiro felt a mixed degree of shame and relief listening to the two school officials speak. They'd made it out alive, but it had already proved his theory wrong. Once more the inner scientist chided him for being so presumptuous, and creating a hypothesis based on nothing more than a crude clue and fear. Looking to Akena or 'K' as they asked to be referred to, he listened as they gave their own speech as the newly minted leader of their team, ARKIS. Only a few hours ago he might have fumed at the idea of anyone but himself getting the position, but battle had changed all that. K didn't seem to want the role, it was clear to him, but looking back at history, few great leaders did. He watched K channel some kind of inner strength to speak to them all, then issue defacto orders to either head to the dorm or get medical help. Shiro glanced to his shoulder which had seen better days. His aura was doing a fine job keeping the wound from being life threatening, but it still stung and was more or less limited for combat purposes. His concern for this was negligible though. His thoughts were primarily on how he hadn't had time to use his healing semblance in the fight, and as a result his team had left with injuries which, had they all been a little less lucky, would have cost them all dearly. Another stab of shame pierced through him, masked by an impassive expression. Had the wounds still been new, he might have been able to do the job of the infirmary there and then, but his semblance was centered around being something that could be done within the heat of battle. That time had come and gone. He straightened his glasses and glanced to K and the others, his voice measured, if somewhat weary, "This way please." He gestured to a hallway leading out. He had a fairly solid idea of the layout of this school, but more than that, he could find his way to the infirmary in the dark.<br/><br/>A minute or two later, having arrived at the medical wing for the school, Shiro stepped through the doors just past the waiting room, not pausing to ask for permission from the staff there. In point of fact, they all knew him. His talents for fresh injuries were extremely useful, but besides that he had gathered more than his fair share of medical expertise. He gingerly removed his white jacket and slipped on a lab coat, staying particularly careful around his wounded shoulder, then he washed his hands and went to work, stepping out into the waiting area and looking to K and any others from their team, "Any emergencies? Dizziness? Shortness or breath? Compound fractures?" He was simply making a blanket assessment of the team. His own observation told him they seemed fine, if a little beaten up, but it was always good practice to ask the patient. He nodded, likely getting a series of blank looks or shaking heads, then motioned for the worst cases to come back into the clinic proper. He pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he eyed K's gashes on their stomach, then gave a short 'hrmph' before getting some cotton soaked in a distinctly painful disinfectant and cleaning the wound a little less than gently. He then gathered some medical tape and gauze and slapped it across the worst of the injury, "You'll live.<i>NEXT</i>!!"<br/><br/>Bedside manner, thy name was Shiro.<br/><br/>He would of course stay to help treat them all in the same all-too-practical manner. It wouldn't be until everyone was properly patched up that he would finally flag down a nurse to have his shoulder looked at.