| [Jul. 7th, 2013|06:21 am] |
Behind Icha Icha, Kakashi went carefully still. Muted flares of surprise rippled through half a dozen chakra signatures, but whether that was because the information was new or just because Ryouma had said it—
“I felt the chakra surge at the valley,” Takeshi said slowly. “I knew Akiyama.”
Not all jounin ninja were chakra sensors, but most of them had at least an edge. Raikari wasn’t a subtle jutsu. Most likely, every person in this room had felt Akiyama die.
Kakashi lowered his book and gave Ryouma a look that, hopefully, conveyed his willingness to go two for two if Ryouma didn’t shut up.
Ryouma didn’t glance over. “You know me, too,” he said to Takeshi, eye to eye with the other man. “If you figure that what happened in the valley was anything other than Akiyama gone bad, and Kakashi intervening before it got worse, here's your chance.”
Takeshi snorted. “Yeah, right. Akiyama was a jerk. Calm your feathers, hardass.”
The kunai flicked like a snake, and hit the floorboard between Ryouma's first finger and thumb.
Ryouma grinned. “Aww, I knew you liked me better,” he said, without glancing down at the steel shivering against his hand.
“Oh my god,” Kasumi muttered. “He’s worse than an alley cat.”
Kakashi was starting to not like her.
Takeshi leaned forward, pulled the kunai out of the wood, and began to gently tap the point between Ryouma’s fingers. Thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky—then back again. Genin liked to play this game. The point was to build up speed and complexity without removing a finger and prematurely ending your career. Not much of a challenge for a jounin.
Which was, presumably, why Takeshi wasn’t actually looking down.
The kunai picked up speed and broke pattern, weaving a river of constantly moving silver over Ryouma’s hand. The point bit into wood faster and faster, digging out chips. Thunkthunkthunk. There was barely an audible pause between hits.
“Ah!”
Ryouma snatched his hand back. A bright droplet of blood fell onto the massacred wood. |
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