| [Feb. 27th, 2016|03:53 am] |
When he reached the outer edge of the training grounds, he wasn’t surprised to see an exodus in progress. ANBU, as a group, were chakra-sensitive creatures, and even his recovering senses could feel the burn of distant death. He smiled, faintly smug. Other people’s teammates didn’t cause mass evacuations.
A grizzled passerby regarded him with dislike. Kakashi saluted her cheerfully and proceeded to ground zero.
There was a crater in the center of the field, where a ring of unfortunate training dummies had once stood. It was smoking gently. Katsuko stood in front of it, steam curling off her heaving shoulders. A katana in her good hand caught the last red rays of a bloody sunset. Her kodachi was still sheathed at her hip.
Kakashi said, “Need a better opponent?”
Katsuko’s head turned slowly, the glint of one green eye barely visible under the shadow of her hair. “Shouldn’t you be napping?” she asked.
It was probably supposed to be a mild question. It sounded like a growl.
Kakashi readjusted his world view. This wasn’t Katsuko, his occasionally funny, frequently irritating teammate. This was Rat, the blank-faced ANBU who could skim flames down her blades and start a forest fire. Killing intent shivered in the air.
He slid one foot back, settling into a better stance, and asked pleasantly, “Shouldn’t you be playing minion?”
That won a laugh like a whipcrack. “I’m done with that for tonight.” She cast a restless eye over the remains of the sacrificial dummies, clearly unsatisfied by their destruction, and turned fully to face him. He watched her warily, and saw the moment she registered his guard was up. She smiled — not pleased, perhaps teasing. It didn’t really work. “You’re jumpy today. Indigestion?”
“Boredom,” he said, without relaxing. He hefted one of his new swords off his shoulder an inch, showing her the length of the sheath. “I was supposed to be getting lessons sometime this lifetime, but my teacher is busy smashing stickmen.”
She studied him, silent and intent. “What if I wanted a fight instead?”
A little shiver rolled down between his shoulderblades, cutting a line from intrigue to alarm. He wasn’t field-ready yet, but he wasn’t useless either. He’d fought in worse shape. He’d won in worse shape.
The best training mimicked the real world.
“Okay,” he said, and laid the blades carefully on the ground. He straightened and hooked his hands into his pockets, deliberately, insolently relaxed. “No swords, no chakra. First blood wins?”
Katsuko didn’t put her sword down.
She prowled closer, naked blade reflecting fire and stars and a very nasty way to exit the world, stage left. She said, very softly, “The ugly thing is, I want to take you up on it.”
Her right arm was still in a sling, collarbone an easy point of weakness. She was a two-handed fighter; he could press her guard on that side. He had kunai, wire, a strike from the distance would give him a chance—
Katsuko sheathed her sword.
Kakashi didn’t blink, but he did pause. The red thrumming edge filtered out of the air, fading as Katsuko pulled her killing intent back under her skin. The edges relaxed in her face, until she looked less like a skull, more like a person. She didn’t turn away from him. He watched — she let him watch — as she built herself back together, reforming a shinobi from bloodthirst and violence, sliding the shrapnel away.
“Pick up your swords,” she said, and the war was gone out of her voice. “Our first lesson starts now.”
Kakashi exhaled silently through his nose, relief — but also disappointment. There would be a time, not today, when he wanted to face that revenant and see who could win.
But today, he picked up his swords. |
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