| Reunions and Ruminations | [Apr. 23rd, 2014|12:48 am] |
[Takes place the early morning of May 5, Yondaime Year 5, shortly after Diversionary Tactics.]
The heavy stairwell door swung closed, muting the sounds of the general inpatient floor behind him. Asuma had nearly forgotten just how busy a real shinobi hospital could get. He wasn't entirely sure he missed it. But then, there were a lot of things in Konoha he was finding alien after only a year away.
Like elevators. When the hell had he developed an issue with elevators? The bizarre slap of panic that hit him when his ride went from one passenger to five over the course of two floors had completely blind-sided him. There was nothing inherently dangerous about the situation—just a gaggle of nurses on their way from one station to another. The car was more than big enough to hold all of them. And yet there had been that sudden dump of adrenaline, the sensation of restricted breath, that still hadn't fully subsided.
The stairwell, at least at the moment, was empty. That wouldn't be the case for long, of course; he couldn't be the only shinobi with a distaste of elevators. Blessed quiet and relative isolation could only do so much to calm the nerves, though. A cigarette was what he really needed, but Asuma knew better than to try lighting up in a hospital. That was added stress he did not need right now.
Down the stairs, through the lobby, out the door. Apply red kings liberally; find quiet corner to unwind in until disturbed or nicotine runs out; find new corner/buy new cigarettes; repeat as necessary. It wasn't the most well-thought-out of plans, but it would serve his needs for now. Better than all this talking he was having to do lately.
He took a breath, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started down the stairs.
A solid goal helped. Something concrete he could put his hands on, to narrow his focus. The quest for nicotine nirvana helped with pushing through this beehive of chakra signatures, which didn’t ease his nerves any more than the crowded elevator had. The capital had been so much quieter in comparison, even with its relatively high shinobi population. How had he never noticed?
Five floors down brought Asuma back to the hospital’s lobby. It was a straight shot from the stairs to the plate glass doors that led outside, with the long reception desk to the left and the mess of a waiting room on the right. The waiting area was calm this time around, at least. No injured ninja from a mission gone wrong. Not even any blood stains from the Yondaime’s most recent pass through.
Fifteen meters to relief. Bloodstained grout was not his concern right now. Stop thinking.
“—long, do you think?”
“Fifteen minutes or so, it shouldn’t be long.”
Six meters and—he knew that voice.
Asuma paused and looked back to the reception desk, to the ninja he’d walked right past without even recognizing. Had he even really looked? That backwards hitai-ate should have been unmistakable.
"Genma?" he said, uncertainly, but the other man was already turning.
And it was Genma. Recognizably, obviously Genma, just like he remembered, thank goodness. At least some things were still the same.
The other ninja gave him a quick look over, either verifying identity or checking for injuries, before giving a shaky little exhale and breaking into a broad grin.
"Welcome back, you death-cheating fucker!" Genma exclaimed, and stepped away from the counter. Asuma couldn't help but mirror that grin and meet him in the middle with a hug.
"Long time no see," he said warmly, giving Genma a light thump on the back before pulling away and holding his shoulders at arm length. "And here I thought you'd've poisoned yourself by now. How the hell are you?"
"Awesome! Except for a little minor gut slicing I got on my last mission. About to get sent out again, so I'm here for a last minute buff." Genma took a breath and his expression shifted, relief finding its place amid surprised pleasure. That seemed like an odd addition at the moment, but Asuma didn't have a chance to question it before he was pulled into another, more secure hug.
"Glad you made it," Genma added quietly after a second.
Death-cheating fucker.
He knew. He knew. How had Genma found out? Asuma had only been back in Konoha for a day now, and had been in solitary at the capital for several days prior. How much information about the coup had spread by now? Was he going to need to have this conversation with everyone he knew?
Dread curled heavy at the bottom of his lungs, suffocating most of the pleasure he'd gained from seeing Genma again.
"D'you think we could step out for a cigarette?" he asked, equally quiet.
It only took a moment for Genma to see through the question, as he always seemed to. He turned back to the receptionist, keeping a steadying hand on Asuma's elbow. "I'll be out in the courtyard if Nohara-sensei is ready for me before I get back."
"I'll let her know," the clerk reassured him.
Outside was better. The breeze made the air seem fresher, and with the sky visible some of the tension began to seep from his spine. Asuma picked a sheltered corner near the entrance where he could light up without interference, by an empty bench flanked with pots of blooming flowers.
Just having a cigarette in hand was comforting by itself, but it didn't stay unlit for long. That first hit of nicotine after a period of abstinence was always the best: it slipped through the veins like a thief, stealing adrenaline and relaxing muscles in its wake. He exhaled smoke and stress and watched the breeze swirl it away.
The crumpled pack of cigarettes in his back pocket had enough for two, so out of habit he held the last one out in offering. Genma took it after a moment of hesitation, closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm so close to quitting."
"No one ever really quits," Asuma said, and nudged the hand holding the unlit cigarette with a lighter.
"I'm so close to quitting. Bastard." Genma finally lit up, handed the lighter back, and took a long drag off the cigarette like a parched man might water. Though they were already next to each other, Genma closed the distance and leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder. It was a comforting weight; Asuma leaned back against him to balance it out.
"You okay?" Genma asked.
Asuma took the moment to consider that. 'Okay' was not a good word to encapsulate his state of mind after the sheer amount of of insanity that had unfolded in the last week. A heavy feeling of unreality still met him every morning when he woke, followed every step back to Konoha. Academically he understood what was happening, but no matter how many times one was tested on the details, no one was actually prepared to have their entire team wiped out in a single mission. That sort of thing couldn't be prepared for.
"No," he finally said, matter-of-factly. "It's only been a week." |
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