| [Jun. 10th, 2013|03:27 am] |
A ripple of laughter and muttered confirmations of Shikaku’s prediction went around the circle now that the birds of prey had gone. Genma wondered if that was deliberate or just a happenstance that commander and vice commander wore hawk and owl masks. Captains and lieutenants were drifting away now, talking about the candidates they’d just evaluated, the two-day hunt to come, and just exactly how much shit the vice was likely in.
Genma pushed his mask off, hooked it to the holder on his belt, and turned his face up to catch a few cooling spatters of rain. Scrubbing a damp-gloved hand over his face, he pushed unruly hair into place, then went to greet his new captain who was, sensibly, staying dry under the eaves.
Namiashi Raidou was a citadel in human form: the kind of taijutsu specialist whose body was an advertisement offering perfectly executed ass-kickings. He was a couple centimeters taller than Genma, and several kilos heavier. A reddish mop of hair that even the rain couldn’t quite make lie flat flared around the top of his mask. Where most of the ANBU got animal masks of some type or other, Raidou had a spare abstraction: a slender red crescent moon slicing through the left eye on an otherwise blank white face.
It was, Genma had to admit, surprisingly intimidating. He touched his shoulder in salute and waited for instruction.
Raidou returned the salute, then seemed to hesitate before he took off his mask and clipped it to his belt. He threw Genma a crooked smile. “Hi.”
Genma’s new captain, it turned out, was a hottie. Not that looks counted for a lot when you spent most of your time in a mask, but this guy had them.
That was a bonus.
“Hi,” Genma said. “Shiranui Genma. I guess we’re the new team six for now?” |
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