Me? He had enough sense about him to be indignant by the accusation of wasting the captain's time. It wasn't as if he'd held the other man hostage. He'd been free to leave whenever he'd felt like it, and instead chose to stay. Using Baikal's snowballs to cool over hot skin, as well.

But the half-youma wasn't exactly wrong about the page. Not entirely right, either, but not wrong. Baikal had taken up a comfortable seat on the fence of this war and managed to maintain that sense of neutrality up to this point. He didn't want to fight the Negaverse, because he saw good in them. He didn't want to be like the senshi and other knights he'd seen at the prison, because they'd seemed more evil than those they'd held captive.

It didn't seem like fence sitting was going to continue to be a viable option.

He was still coughing as the captain's threat snarled out though the smoke, a promise for another day that would have left the page grimacing, if he'd been able to breath properly...

When it'd cleared enough to see again, to breath, the page turned his attention to the teen sleeping on the bench, lips drawn into a thin line. He should probably check on him.

strickenized
FIN