| [Mar. 3rd, 2016|03:25 am] |
He picked up the grey and red bordered folder Kuroda had delivered before the rest of the team arrived. “Providing we all keep our day jobs, I have some updates about the situation in the capital and the outcome of our mission that you might like to hear.”
Ryouma and Katsuko broke off their celebration of victory in the alternative careers game. Ryouma sat up straighter, leaning in, and Katsuko’s expression sobered quickly, while Kakashi cocked his head in interest without otherwise disturbing his slouch against the wall.
“Operation Swift Blade — our mission was part of it — was highly successful. Of the six teams that took part, only two suffered serious casualties: ours and Team Twelve.” Genma opened the folder and flipped the cover page back. “Teams Eight, Ten, Sixteen, and Twenty-three accomplished their objectives with minimal opposition. Eight and Ten were in western Fire Country, Sixteen was south, and Twenty-three was north-east. There was some evidence that Amegakure and Kumogakure were potential players, but nothing as definitive as the Kirigakure involvement we and Team Twelve uncovered.
“Twelve was one of the splinter teams, like ours, operating fairly close to us. They ran into another group of A- or S-class Mist ninja around the same time we did. Twelve’s captain and lieutenant made it back, badly injured, but Hasebe Goutoku and Yamanaka Michiyo both lost their lives. There will be a service on Friday at 1100.”
Katsuko closed her eyes and nodded once, face still and unreadable. Both of the deceased were veterans, but Genma hadn’t known either of them more than in passing. Maybe Katsuko had been better acquainted with one of them. Or maybe it was just somber respect for comrades who’d given their lives for the village.
Kakashi’s expression didn’t change, but Ryouma's mouth thinned and he asked, “Is it a closed service? ANBU only? Or do we show up in standard funeral blacks?”
“Standard blacks,” Genma answered. “It’s a regular military funeral. It will be mostly their family and friends. You’re not expected to attend unless you knew them, but you’re certainly welcome to.”
Katsuko’s eyes flicked up in acknowledgment.
“What about their captain and lieutenant?” asked Ryouma.
Genma glanced at his brief. “Endou Tatsuya-taichou has a cervical fracture, but it didn’t displace — he’s not paralyzed. He had a head injury, too, but it looks like he’ll recover. And Domen Saburo-fukuchou may regain the use of his right leg.” He glanced down at his own bandaged thigh. “I guess you can tell Iebara and the Mist ninja who got Saburo trained in the same style.”
“Ayane's captain nearly lost his leg, too. Hajime.” Ryouma offered. He glanced at Genma. “You knew him, right?"”
“Hajime was my last captain, actually,” Genma said. “I’ve been to visit him a couple of times. He thinks he’ll be back captaining a squad in three or four months.” Optimistic, given how much of Hajime’s leg had been damaged, but Genma had seen ninja recover from even more horrific injuries. And Hajime was nothing if not motivated. “He told me he thought they were fighting ninja from Ame, though. The shinobi who almost took his leg off used a jutsu, not a sword.”
“Iebara used jutsu,” Kakashi said, sounding a little bored.
“Iebara used a jutsu to make swords out of blood,” Genma said. “But he still used them like regular blades. Hajime’s hip looked like someone attached a dozen exploding tags to it.” He grimaced, remembering the ugly wound Hajime had shown him and the notes he’d read in Hajime’s chart. The medics were building Hajime a quarter of a new pelvis. He was lucky the jutsu hadn’t penetrated to his viscera, or he probably wouldn’t have survived no matter how good his physicians were. |
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