| [May. 8th, 2014|03:29 am] |
The lieutenant seemed almost exactly the same as when they’d first walked into the house, lean and anonymous in his black-and-bone armor. The only flashes of color were the matching red of his tanuki mask and swirling ANBU tattoo, and the glints of gold the firelight picked out in his hair. He’d avoided getting any blood on him.
It took a hard look to see the faintest tired slump in the other man’s shoulders.
Maybe it didn’t get easier.
Or Kakashi needed to be stronger, for when his teammates weren’t. He straightened his back, folding philosophy away for a moment when reflection could actually be useful, instead of distracting, and doused the remaining fire with a final jutsu.
“Time to get moving, lieutenant?” he said, putting just enough spin on the inflection to make it a question.
Genma nodded and thumbed his mic back on. “Ram, we’re good here. You ready to go?”
“I’m in the garden,” Ryouma said, over a static crackle. “No one’s called the firefighters yet.”
If anyone had seen the light from Kakashi’s chidori, or the repetitive glow of fires starting and stopping, or heard all the screaming, which was most likely, they’d already suspect ninja. In which case, whatever passed for a city police force was gathering.
They might even be trying to get word to the closest Konoha outpost, but that was hours away and nothing to worry about.
Ryouma was leaning against the wall next to a slumped pile of dead guards, cleaning out the undersides of his nails with the point of a kunai. It didn’t seem like a show. Based on what Kakashi had seen in the bathroom, Ryouma really, really wanted clean hands. The ram mask lifted at their silent approach, and Ryouma tossed a single scroll to the lieutenant. Genma caught it, weighed it briefly in one hand, and tucked it away. Even standing next to him, Kakashi could feel the subtle density of chakra. A lot of things compacted into a very small space just… did something to the surrounding air, like a weight gently bending the universe.
They each had one scroll full of gold. Genma had two extra scrolls for Tsuto’s paperwork. In the event of attack, it was safer to split the risk of carrying valuables. That, and no one liked the feeling of carrying a chakra brick on their hip. Chakra half-brick was better.
Genma raised his chin, casting one last look over the building. Almost as an afterthought, he threaded his hands through quick seals and let one final jutsu fly. Flames curled up through the air, a bright twist against the hot, overcast night, and sank their teeth into the front door. Genma curled his wrist, and the fire followed the gesture, spiralling into a tight circle and extinguishing.
On the door, Konoha’s leaf symbol glowed like a brand.
“Come on,” Genma said, turning away.
Ryouma fell into step on his right, a tall slip of shadow just behind Genma’s shoulder. Kakashi raked a hand through his own hair, pulling blood-sticky strands away from the eye-holes of his mask, and followed.
The air smelled like distant thunder. Behind them, the stricken house settled around the weight of slaughtered dead.
It was four blocks before Kakashi heard a servant’s first thin scream, rising into the night like smoke. |
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