| [Dec. 22nd, 2013|05:24 am] |
Kakashi tucked Icha Icha back into his hip-pouch and looked at her. "That's true," he said at last.
She snorted. As the elevator creaked open, she said, “Are you still serious about learning the kata?"
That caught his attention. "You've made your mind up?"
The lobby was still empty. Katsuko cut across it towards the exit, avoiding the muddy trail of footprints they’d tracked in earlier. “Hyoho Niten’s a disappearing style,” she said. “My mother’s the only other surviving master, and she won’t teach anymore. I’d been thinking about letting it die out with me.” She shrugged and pushed through HQ’s doors, out into the cold morning air. Kakashi kept pace with her. “But you’re one of our best. That means it’s always a race to stay a step ahead of whoever wants to kill you this week. Anything that gives you an edge, I’ll help you with. I just have one condition.”
“Which is?” Kakashi asked. She couldn’t read anything in his voice, but she could feel the weight of his full attention.
Katsuko glanced over. “The Sharingan stays closed. If you’re learning Hyoho Niten, you’re learning it the hard way.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “So, a slow edge.”
“Take it or leave it,” Katsuko said. It hadn’t been an easy decision to teach him in the first place. The Sharingan was the one point where she wouldn’t bend.
“What do you want in return?”
She blinked in surprise. “What do I want?”
“For teaching me,” he said.
Giving her a way to preserve Hyoho Niten—no fighting style survived without disciples, and Hatake Kakashi made a hell of an acolyte—was payment enough, but if she told Kakashi that he’d be unbearable for the rest of their natural lives.
After a moment, Katsuko scratched her head. “Call me senpai during training sessions,” she suggested, for lack of any other ideas. “Do a funny dance.”
"I'll buy you lunch," Kakashi decided.
“A big lunch.”
"Regular lunch,” he countered. "And I'll keep the Sharingan out of it. Deal?"
Katsuko peered up at the dark, starless sky. “You really don’t owe me anything,” she said at last. “We’re not bartering. Still, I’m not going to turn down free food. Deal.”
Kakashi’s expression of faint doubt was easy to read, despite the poor light. He contemplated her for a second, like one would a strange museum exhibit, before giving her a nod. Then he held out his hand. Katsuko copied him, surprised when he clasped her wrist instead of shaking her hand. She clasped his in turn, wary of the sudden air of solemnity that surrounded the moment.
“Is this a secret handshake?” she asked. “Have I accidentally sworn a blood oath? Have you?”
"Not yet.” Kakashi put his free hand on his tanto, pulling the blade an inch out of the sheath with a soft shing. “We can, if you want.”
Katsuko narrowed her eyes. “You’re messing with me.”
Kakashi’s own eye crinkled at the corners. “Little bit.”
“Bastard.” Katsuko snorted despite herself, letting go of his wrist. “Careful, or I actually will make you call me senpai.”
He shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Better than sensei.”
She smirked. “There’s an idea.” |
|