| [Oct. 19th, 2015|12:07 am] |
Kakashi’s fatigue vanished between one breath and the next. Gone was the slouchy young man who’d spent the entire day with her; in his place was a blooded shinobi who’d just had the keenness of his edge called into question. He sat up fully and aimed a hard, considering look at her. “I always run.”
Continuing the metaphor any further would tip the conversation towards the ridiculous. Her good hand was curled in a loose fist on the table. She turned it over, palm up, and opened her fingers in wordless question: do you really?
He looked at her hand and then back at her face, eye narrowed. "I could — maybe — work on integrating more."
Being a ninja demanded excellence, dedication, and defiance of impossible odds. To adapt was to survive. But for those who based their self-worth on their career as a shinobi, it was galling to admit the need for improvement after constant success on the field. The feeling stung worse the higher up the ranks you were. For most, jounin was the vaunted peak of ability. To reach the summit only to find yet another mountain to climb in ANBU was the reason behind most dropouts. Katsuko wasn’t religious, but she uttered a silent prayer of thanks that neither of her rookies were the type to back down from unforeseen challenges.
“Hm,” she said at last, in tacit acknowledgment, and withdrew her hand before Kakashi was tempted to bite it off. He reminded her of nothing so much right now as an offended cat grudgingly admitting it might be the culprit behind an upended flower pot. “The day before my first month review I replaced all of taichou’s — well, he was the lieutenant back then — pen ink with ramen broth. You can imagine what he wrote about me in the Needs Improvement section of his report.”
"It's a regular Tuesday and I don't know why I do this job?" Kakashi suggested cynically, but he relaxed back into his usual slouch by degrees. He leaned one elbow on the table and regarded them with renewed interest. After a moment, he added more sincerely, “Congratulations to you both, though. You’ve earned it.”
Ryouma, who had been tending the grill with one ear bent toward their conversation, laid a large, perfectly cooked strip of chicken on her plate. “I think you just proved his point, senpai.”
Katsuko couldn't think of a witty retort — she was too busy controlling a pleased flush at the praise.
Ryouma grinned at her.
Kakashi ignored them both, and vanished the enoki maki behind his mask. |
|