In one's life as a Shinobi, there would occasionally be things that stuck with someone. The sight of a particularly gruesome murder scene, an attack against a particularly strong opponent, the crazed look in someone's eyes that spoke to the true abyss of humanity.
Among them, the involuntary scream of pain that had ripped itself out of Sho's throat was likely to be one that haunted the other Yamamotos for quite some time.
As much as Eri had advised against it after the fact, Sho couldn't help but feel that her warning had been entirely too late. If he had known, he might have acted differently. Or at least wait until nightfall to leave the mountain. Or... or something.
Though, in truth, he could scarcely hold it against her. It wasn't like he always gave perfect advice, and she had been good enough to bring him to the hospital in his blinded state so that was nice.
Either way, Eri probably hadn't expected to hear from Sho for a while after the incident. She had likely thought that he would be cooped up in the hospital for a few months, or (if he was being entirely uncharitable) perhaps he thought she would have written him out of the elections with his injuries.
If she had thought that? Well, she would have been surprised by the request that he had sent via the elder who had come to see him in the hospital bed.
He wanted to meet her.
---
A wooden bench stood outside of the Kumogakure village hospital, somewhere for people to sit whilst waiting for outpatients, or for chronic patients to get to experience some of the outside world before returning to their hospital room. Mountain birds flocked around it, with the local area peppered with small amounts of food to lure them in and give the people sitting on said bench something to look at to brighten their view and hopefully their mood.
Sho, in his current state, was unable to take advantage of the sight of them. For, in truth, he was unable to see them at all. His head was still wrapped in its bandages, several layers of clean linen wrapped around his face like a blindfold, in an attempt to protect and let his eyes heal from their injuries.
Even so, Sho could feel them. He could feel every peck they laid against the ground, every time their little feet walked across the earth, every piece of food that was snatched up by their greedy beaks and swallowed whole.
More than that, Sho could feel people in the hospital behind him, and those wandering the streets. He couldn't see their faces, didn't know whether they were looking at him or not, but he knew they were passing by. He could feel it, sure as if he was touching them himself.
It was a strange sensation. If he hadn't been deprived of one of his senses in exchange, the sensation might have driven him mad. It was like being itchy all the time, or having bugs crawl over your skin. It was errant and uncontrollable, an awareness he couldn't shake, like seeing through his eyelids.
That was why he had called for Eri.
If anyone knew how to sharpen and hone this thing, it would be the person who gave it to him.