The comments were distant, touching only on the edge of Hanatarou's intense concentration, but noted and wondered at. What was it about these people that made them so different from the fighters that he knew back home, who thought anyone who couldn't fight like they could was weak and useless?

They were acting more like...like Ichigo and his friends, or Rukia and Renji. It really was strange, but pleasant. And it made it easier for him right now, since concentrating with his limited ability to heal was hard enough as it was.

The burns on Kenren's back slowly faded away under his hands, while at the same time pain flared stronger behind the healer's eyes. He persevered, though, pushing on until he had done as much as he could. The glow faded away as he drew his hands back again, pinching his nose closed against the trickle of blood that inevitably emerged. "Um. Just a second," he mumbled, eyes half-closed against his headache. "Need to catch m'breath..."