| The Way Home | [Sep. 27th, 2013|07:52 pm] |
[Takes place Yondaime Year 5, April 29, the morning after Suffering Fools]
Nine unbroken hours of sleep wasn't enough to make Ryouma feel anything near human when he woke, but the press of warm fingers against his forehead and the slow trickle of chakra into parched coils went a little way towards helping him feel less murderous. He slit boulder-weighted eyelids open and squinted hazily at the broad palm masking most of his vision. "R'dou?"
"Rise and shine, kiddo," Raidou rasped. He sounded almost as tired as Ryouma felt. His chakra was sluggish, clogged with earth affinity that refused to settle into the low ebb of Ryouma's water and fire.
Not solely Raidou's fault. But even molding borrowed chakra until it melted into his own felt like an insurmountable task now, with the warm bed dragging him down and darkness beckoning behind the backs of his drifting eyelids. "Said I could sleep," he mumbled.
"I did," Raidou agreed. "Now I'm saying you need to wake up."
He cut the chakra flow with a flick of his fingers against Ryouma's forehead, and his hand fell away. Ryouma groaned, rubbed his face against his shoulder, and finally dragged his eyes open again to see Raidou crouching at the side of the bed and reaching for Kakashi's ANBU mask.
Kakashi's head had tipped back against the mattress, and for some reason Ryouma's fingers were laced through his wild grey hair. He stared blankly at them until the edge of Kakashi's ceramic mask nudged his thumb. Raidou was shoving Kakashi's mask back to clear his forehead, but he'd paused to give Ryouma a weighted look from behind the eyeholes of his own henged mask.
"He's soft," Ryouma said, and patted Kakashi's hair to prove it.
That didn't seem like it could possibly be the reason he'd fallen asleep half-sitting up, with his hand in Kakashi's hair—and that Kakashi hadn't pulled away—but Raidou just snorted and set his fingertips between Kakashi's brows.
Kakashi's hair was weirdly soft, for all that it tried to defy gravity and good taste. Maybe the floral shampoo had helped. Ryouma tried experimentally to part the thick springing strands with his fingers, to see if he could get down to the scalp, but Kakashi made a low noise in the back of his throat and turned his head into Ryouma's hand.
Raidou's empty hand hovered in the air an inch away from Kakashi's forehead, his fingers chakra-bright. "Well," he said quietly, amusement tugging at the edges of his voice. "I guess someone made a friend."
"Someone's takin' his mask name a little too seriously," Ryouma said. "What, am I supposed to pet him? What if he bites my fingers off?" He flexed his hand gently anyway, carding his fingers through Kakashi's hair.
Kakashi didn't snap. But his eyelashes did flutter against a spectacular bruise blooming high on his cheek. Somehow Ryouma'd thought he'd be the type to spring to instant alertness, or at least instant grumpiness like yesterday morning, but it took him a few blinks to properly get his eye open, and then a slow scan of the room to orient himself. He glanced up at Ryouma, and then sideways at Raidou, and asked warily, "What's going on?"
Ryouma tried to sneak his hand back very carefully and hide it under the blankets. "I had a dream," he said. "You bullied me awake twice and once I got naked and once you fed me. I'm hoping there's coffee involved this time."
Kakashi stared at him. "Were you petting me?"
"Your dreams are weirder than mine," Ryouma informed him.
Raidou, wisely deciding to stay clear of this altogether, straightened and cleared his throat. "We're moving out once the lieutenant has Rat and Fujiyama-san sorted," he said briskly. "Ram, I need you to figure out if you can stay upright. Ditto for you, Hound."
Ryouma had been doing all right at upright so far, though admittedly this was mostly only because he was slouched against pillows and the wall. He tried, cautiously, to shift. A weight on his thigh pinned him down.
He lifted the blankets and looked beneath. Katsuko lay curled against his leg, head pillowed on his thigh. One arm was bound tight to her chest; the other tucked protectively over it. The henge'd mask she'd worn was long faded. Ryouma's probably was, too. He touched his cheek, and felt only the faintest kiss of mist.
The doctor and her assistant were nowhere in sight; a folding screen hid the two beds where he vaguely remembered the civilians being laid. Genma's bed was empty, too, sheets neatly folded down to the foot. There was a spare cot beside it, with a single blanket folded beneath a very flat pillow. Hopefully that had been Raidou's.
Kakashi was already on his feet, sword sheathed, wincing and leaning against the wall to shake out legs that had to be tingling painfully back to life after a night cross-legged on the floor. He stretched elaborately, joints cracking like dry twigs in the forest. Then he glanced back at Ryouma and lifted one challenging eyebrow. "Well?"
"I'd be more impressed if you weren't still holding onto the wall," Ryouma said. He eased Katsuko off his leg very carefully. She slitted an eye open like a cat for an evil glare, then grabbed a pillow in his stead and tugged the blankets back over her. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, catching his breath, and then tried pushing off.
His weak left knee buckled. Kakashi caught his arm; Raidou's hand closed on his shoulder. Ryouma locked his right knee and managed, just barely, not to lean on them.
"Why," he asked after a second, "is there a hand towel stuffed down my pants?"
There was a muffled burst of laughter beneath the blankets. Kakashi said, "Bath sheet was too big."
"Okay," Raidou said, releasing Ryouma's shoulder. "One more chance to stay upright, Ram, then you're getting carried. Rat, if you're healthy enough to laugh, you're healthy enough to get up and help."
"What's so urgent?" Ryouma grabbed for the wall when Kakashi dropped his arm, and stayed on his feet. His knee ached, but it would keep for the moment; he had wraps in his gear, wherever that had landed. He could probably stagger wherever they pointed him, as long as it was towards coffee. He fished out the hand-towel and dropped it discreetly under the bed. "We got incoming? They need the beds?"
Genma limped around the folding screen that hid the civilians' beds. He was damp-haired and clean in new uniform and mask, but his bare arms were spattered with dried blood. He tossed a sealed black plastic bag to Raidou and headed for the sink. "Taichou got a message from home," he said hoarsely, as water splashed. "They miss us."
Ryouma and Kakashi glanced at each other. Katsuko threw back the blankets and sat up, rubbing the heel of her hand in one eye. "That bad, huh," she croaked. "Let's go. Can't keep our adoring public waiting." She slid off the bed and looked around. "Where's my gear?"
Kakashi stooped, less smoothly than usual, and scooped up a scroll and a battered utility belt from the floor. He tossed the scroll to Katsuko and draped the belt over Ryouma's shoulders, then flicked through rapid seals. Mist cooled Ryouma's face again, the phantom jutsu mask. Katsuko's face blurred and became her red and white painted Rat mask. Kakashi began, slowly and painfully, to buckle on his own armor. "Are we running home?"
"River-boating." Raidou had emptied out a tin bandage container and locked the plastic bag and its fist-sized lump away. "We're taking Hisa-san and her parents with us."
The water shut off. Genma turned away from the sink, drying his hands. "I'll work on everyone's injuries on the boat, as long as you're all stable for now." He flipped the towel onto a counter and pushed his mask back to look at Raidou. There were deep shadows of exhaustion under his eyes, and his lips were cracked and pale. He moved stiffly, as if regained feeling had brought pain in its wake. "I'm about finished here. I got it out intact. Fujiyama-san's out of the woods."
Ryouma tried not to think about whatever gory mess lay inside plastic and tin at Raidou's hip. He fumbled through his own belt-pouches, searching for the scroll with his clean uniform. Too bad the Quartermaster hadn't issued a spare mask along with the second set of boots and armor. He wasn't looking forward to begging Kakashi for a henge for the next day or two, until his own chakra recovered enough for use. "Have you seen Miki-chan yet?"
"No," Raidou said, without even glancing over. "Rat's collarbone first," he told Genma. "Then we'll get out of here. I want both her hands functional."
Genma nodded. Katsuko dropped her scroll on the bed and herself after it. "Fujiyama," she said, and then stopped and stared at the ceiling. "He knows about his daughters?"
"He knows his family is dead," Kakashi said, flat and hard. He fixed his sheathed sword in the straps between his shoulders and fastened the last catch under his right arm, then stooped to lace up his boots. Katsuko sat very, very still beneath Genma's hands.
There was an open space on the floor beyond Genma's bed, just in front of the bathroom door. Ryouma laid out his scroll there and spared the tiny spark of chakra it took to break the seal. Smoke bloomed; neatly packed gear spilled down the long stretch of the unrolled scroll. His hands throbbed even with that dribble of chakra passing through his pathways. Was this what arthritis would feel like, if he ever lived to be old?
Katsuko's sling was off and Genma's hands were flickering with green chakra by the time Ryouma buckled his belt on over his spare set of armor and blacks. He wrapped up the emptied scroll and shoved it back in his hip-pouch, then dumped his borrowed pants and shirt on the end of the bed. "Mind if I duck out briefly, taichou? Got a report to make."
"If you're looking for a latrine, there's one here," Genma said absently, frowning at Katsuko's shoulder. Katsuko sniggered.
Raidou said, "You have ten minutes. Take Hound." He added, a little softer, "Give my condolences to Miki-chan and Fumio-san."
Ryouma nodded, and limped for the door. |
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