| [Dec. 31st, 2016|10:24 pm] |
After several minutes, Ginta whistled an all clear, and they got moving again. This time no one needed Kuroda to urge them to keep up the pace.
Fukuda’s checkpoint turned out to be a narrow slit between towering rocks, where the Konoha ninja could regroup before they separated.
“Rendezvous is at Satsujin-sha Cove in 24 hours,” Kuroda said. “We’ll wait if we have to, but if you aren’t on the boat by the time there’s light in the sky, we’ll consider you killed in action. There are no second chances if you miss the pickup.”
It was midnight now. Assuming the sun started lightening the sky around 0500, that gave them roughly 29 hours to complete the mission and get to the cove, before they’d have to find an alternate way home and risk arriving to their own military funeral.
Ryouma’s mouth turned down in sullen disapproval, and he squatted to adjust his boot laces, studiously looking away from the vice commander. Kakashi, meanwhile, met Kuroda’s pronouncement with a bland look that asked what else was new.
They were beginning to cluster into their new groups. Usagi and her team poured over a sketched map of the area surrounding Kirigakure, courtesy of Fukuda. Kuroda and the Intel agents had their own sketched map to work from, with much more emphasis on the buildings and streets within the village itself. That left Team Six and Fukuda herself.
She pointed on the map to a broad stream sluicing down the side of the mountain. “That flows into Higuchi Aqueduct. It’s got a maintenance shaft we can use to get into the city.” It sounded almost civilized, after sea caves and swamp treks.
While Raidou got the specifics from her, Genma went to check Abe and Kuroda one last time.
Kuroda predictably, brushed him off after only a cursory examination of his injured arm. Which left Team 13’s rookie medic, who’d lost a senpai and survived two brushes with his own death in half a day.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Genma asked.
“I’m fine.” Abe pulled up his pant leg to show a red circle of new skin where Genma had healed the leech wound. “It really doesn’t hurt.”
“What about your hands?”
“Those either.” Abe’s fingernails were still broken, and scabs and bruises decorated his knuckles, but he flexed all ten fingers with evident ease.
Genma searched Abe’s dark eyes, but for all the trauma he’d been through, he seemed steady.
Abe brushed a hand over salt-stiffened blue hair. “What about you, Shiranui-fukuchou?”
“I’m ready. I’ve got a good team behind me.” Genma hesitated, then added, “You do, too.”
“I do.” Abe’s throat tensed for a moment, then he nodded. “Take care of yours, sir.”
Eizo’s ghost could have been standing there between them. Genma breathed a silent plea for a bodhisattva's intercession to pave Eizo’s way to the Pure Land, dug out a roll of clotting gauze, and tossed it to Abe. “I will. You, too.”
When Genma turned away, he found Ginta almost right behind him.
“Taking over lieutenanting for me?” Ginta asked. He opened a small pot of black cream and smeared sooty streaks over his pale face. “Or was that a medic thing?”
“Just a ninja thing, I think,” Genma said. He tapped his own nose to show Ginta a spot he’d missed. “Make sure you make it to the boat on time: you still owe me five hundred ryou.”
“Bet you another five hundred my team is lounging on the beach by the time your sorry asses show up.” Ginta’s teeth gleamed white in his blackened face.
“That’s a sucker bet,” Genma complained. “Hatake’s on my team and he’s never on time to anything. But you’re on. Double or nothing.” He turned to go. “See you on the other side, Sakamoto.”
“See you on the other side, Shiranui.”
Now they just had to get through the middle. |
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