Gotou stood over the kitchen sink, head tilted forward and a towel pressed to his nose to stifle the bleeding. It didn't feel like his nose was broken, thank god, but DAMN that had rattled his brain about but good. He glanced over to Masayoshi, who was hovering guiltily(more) in the doorway.
"Are you okay?" Masayoshi asked tentatively.
"If that was just a flail, I don't ever want to be on the business end of your right hook," Gotou said, and carefully lifted the towel. A few bright bursts of blood dripped into the sink below, but it seemed the majority of the bleeding had stopped. Gotou rubbed the bridge of his nose tenderly and glowered at Masayoshi, who promptly shrank behind the doorframe.
"I'm sorry," he said, eyes and hair the only thing visible.
"I ran my face into your fist and you're the one apologizing," Gotou huffed, and rinsed the blood-stained hand towel under the cold water. He inhaled deeply through his nose, the metallic scent and taste of blood still in his throat. "It was my fault, Masayoshi."
Which, it was his own fault - Masayoshi wasn't paying attention, Gotou should have been - but Masayoshi was still hovering, the expression on his face wavering between kicked pupped and just plain ol' guilt. "Jeez," Gotou said. "You should be yelling at me for not paying enough attention you know."
Masayoshi eased through the doorway - it was amazing how he could fold in on himself, he was taller (by just a hair, Gotou thought indignantly), but he could make himself seem much smaller by just his posture. "I should have been paying more attention too," Masayoshi said softly, and put his hand gently on Gotou's face. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore," Gotou murmured, and smiled for Masayoshi.(less)