| [Jun. 10th, 2013|03:29 am] |
‘Ninjutsu guy’ was the full brief Raidou had gotten about Shiranui Genma, which, yeah, he looked like a ninjutsu guy. Lighter build, long fingers, unreadable face. Taijutsu specialists made for heavier, sturdier ninja—like Raidou—and genjutsu mostly lent itself to highly focused weirdness. Ninjutsu was the midway between, where muscle and mind met.
“Us and Ueno,” Raidou said. “You’ll meet her later.”
“Oh?” said Genma. His hair was bound back into a damp ponytail; when he tilted his head, little strands escaped, standing out at strange angles.
“Yeah. Big chakra, big attitude. She was part of my last team.”
“Anything else I need to know?” asked Genma dryly.
Ueno Katsuko actually came with a laundry list of standard warnings for the newly introduced, but in the interest of not striking fear into his shiny lieutenant, Raidou stuck to the basics. “She’ll grope you to say hello. We’ve been working on boundaries.”
Hidden amusement flickered in Genma’s light brown eyes. “Are you using the nose-thumping technique, or a spray-bottle?”
“Mostly we just toss something shiny on the ground and run while she’s distracted,” said Raidou. “Silver coins work.”
Genma didn’t rise to the bait. “Good to know,” he said, like he’d actually filed a mental note away somewhere. He pulled a senbon from a holster, twirled it absently along his fingers, and stuck it in his mouth, where it underlined the thoughtful quirk of his lips. “I assume I won't be meeting her before we head out. Do you know if we're working adjacent sectors out there?”
Raidou shrugged. “We did last year, when I was lieutenant. I don’t know if we’re doing the same this time around.”
His memory of last year involved mostly explosions, and a few second-degree burns.
Katsuko again. That had been her Trials.
“Want to get food?” Raidou asked.
“Sure,” said Genma, looking at the HQ. “Here?”
“Sure,” Raidou echoed. “Hardly anyone gets food poisoning anymore.”
Genma snorted quietly and looked at him, waiting, Raidou realized, for Raidou to lead. Because captain, right. After a year of dog-tagging behind his own captain, all his muscle-memory was backwards.
He managed to navigate them successfully to ANBU’s small cafeteria without anyone falling over or having a fatal accident, and snagged two trays from the stack. The hot line was free; they’d fallen behind hungrier, less social ninja. Genma chose healthsome vegetarian options: bok choy and mushrooms with rice and tofu, and a bowl of miso. Raidou grabbed the first thing that contained meat and complemented it with a side of spare ribs, and another of vegetables because he could feel his parents frowning at him.
He got water, Genma chose green tea, and they settled at a window table by wordless mutual agreement.
“So,” said Raidou, cracking his chopsticks apart. “What’d you think of the candidates?” |
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