Nagato leaned back against sink, one arm crossed over his chest while the other held a half empty scotch glass.
"This prescription doesn't renew for another three weeks, yet you're almost out."
Nagato looked at the girl, unblinking, nursing his whiskey.
Khana sighed softly, placing the bottle of painkillers back in the kitchen cabinet where she found them. "Does Konan know?"
Again she was met with silence. But the man watched her intently, almost cautiously, over the rim of his drink.
"You know, if you're hurting that badly you should talk to Tsunade."
Nagato said nothing.
"Right." Khana closed the cabinet door harder than necessary. She was used to her friend being quiet, but his stubborn silence was getting frustrating. She started toward the kitchen door, fed up with Nagato's attitude and ready to leave, but paused in the door way. "You shouldn't mix alcohol with your medication," she told him, glancing back.
Nagato didn't move.
Khana sighed, looking tired and worried, shook her head, and walked out, letting the door slam behind her.
Nagato didn't react, staying quiescent. He watched the door as if he was waiting for her to come back. When she didn't, he pushed off the counter and poured the rest of his drink down the drain. He set the glass tumbler in the sink as well. Crossing the kitchen, he opened the cabinet Khana had just closed and took out the pill bottle. Shaking a couple into his palm, Nagato sighed quietly, sounding defeated. He swallowed the handful of pills dry.
Khana was right. He was almost out. And he didn't want to think about what he would have to do to get more.