Funny how the scent of blood struck Ender straight in the face - in a manner of speaking. He tried not to think about the clatter of water washing away that smell, or the soft echoes of feet on the metal of a space station.

This wasn't his issue - his trauma.

At least he had the comfort that even if he froze up a little, no one would be paying attention to him. No matter how many punches to the gut this was, all wrapped up into one.