Eight Zephers

[soccerwhisperer]

[Earlier in the day...

Outside, Tenma forgot his soccer ball, so he wishes for one. No sickness for him, but when he moves...]

Ow!

[Suddenly, the poor boy's on the floor, clutching his ankle. His journal flutters out from the fall]

...Huh? How did I twist my ankle...?

Comments

[modernholmes]

[Conan was already outside, planning on doing a little skateboarding. When he spots Tenma fall he comes running.]

Oi! Are you okay?

[soccerwhisperer]

I twisted my ankle... I think.

[modernholmes]

[Conan instantly frowns and kneels on the ground.]

Let me see.

[He was more than familiar enough with ankle injuries to figure out if this needed an immediate trip to the infirmary. At the least he could perform basic first aid for it.]

[soccerwhisperer]

[Tenma pulls off his shoe and socks. Surprisingly, the skin is normal and there's no swelling]

Huh?

[modernholmes]

...That isn't right. Does it still hurt?

[soccerwhisperer]

[He presses on it]

A little...

[modernholmes]

[He frowns over it. It was times like this that Conan really hated being this small.]

Can you put any weight on it?

[soccerwhisperer]

[He gets up, and tries to walk, but he can't help but limp]

Only a little.