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Tousaki Ryouma ([info]fallen_ryouma) wrote in [info]fallen_leaves,
@ 2008-01-31 22:29:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:genma, raidou, ryouma

Rookies: Little Speedbumps on the Road of Life [closed to Ryouma, Raidou, Genma]
Two cardboard boxes weren't much to show for twenty-two years of living rough, but unless Tousaki Ryouma was going to abscond with the sofa (a tempting thought; it'd come in handy someday), it was all he had. The tiny basement apartment looked even tinier and dingier with his blankets stripped off the sofa and his weapons-rack dismantled and packed away. Only a little light filtered through the single window set high in the wall, and it was as dingy and disheartened as the rest of the place.

Ryouma stuck his tongue out at it.

Then he swung his katana onto his back, jammed a stray pack of cards in his pocket, stacked both boxes in his arms, and kicked the door open for the last time. The knob fell off, as usual, but this time he didn't bother to pick it up.

"I'm outta here!" he announced to the stray cat scrounging for scraps outside his door. The cat glanced up, startled. Ryouma grinned and headed off.

ANBU Headquarters was about as far as you could get from the apartment he'd rented for the past three years, but the morning was cold and crisp, and the light dusting of snow on the ground made interesting patterns when he scuffed. Interesting for the first three minutes, at least. After that, it was just kind of cold. He was starting to lose feeling in his fingers when he finally caught sight of the massive three-storey compound hulking on the far side of the Hokage's administrative offices.

Dignity-becoming-of-a-shinobi be damned. Ryouma danced a little jig right there in the snow.

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 07:14 am UTC (link)
Raidou was doing what he always did on one of life's -- all too rare -- free days. He was reading. Actually, he was currently walking and reading. Making his way down the corridor with his nose in a new piece of badly written fiction and his peripheral vision letting him know when he needed to make a quick side-step. He was in a good mood, pleased with life and his book and his lack of deadly missions on the horizon.

Not that a deadly mission couldn't be bracing, but Raidou was the rare type of ninja that actually liked to recover just a little before he set out to get his limbs hacked off again. He switched his book to one hand and rubbed the bandage around his arm a shade absently, trying to scratch away the itch of a healing wound.

The slight moment of inattention cost him as he turned a corner and smacked straight into someone new.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 07:16 am UTC (link)
The collision totally wasn't Ryouma's fault. Given that the corner was sharp and blind, it probably wasn't even the other guy's fault either. Whoever had designed this building as a maze of twisty corners, and then stuck a map right on the edge of one of those corners, had a lot to answer for.

All the same, Ryouma let loose with a couple of heartfelt swear-words as he tried--and failed--to save one toppling box without dropping the other one. The cheap cardboard box hit the floor with a sad thump, tipped, and scattered folded tee-shirts and loose shuriken across the floor.

"Hell," Ryouma concluded. "Got any plans to stomp on my grave today? 'Cause I could use a little warning."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 07:50 am UTC (link)
Raidou had been all set to apologize -- his mouth had been open and everything -- when the new guy decided to be rude and lost all apology privileges. Raidou rolled his eyes, bent down to pick up his somewhat battered book, snagged the box and shoved everything back into it -- the guy had some serious neon taste in his t-shirts -- and stood up again. He dropped the box with a little rattle of metal back into the kid's arms and flipped his book open again, finding his page. "Firstly, you dance on a grave, and I don't dance, so that's out. Secondly--" he glanced up, giving the new guy a look over, "--this is the ANBU, we don't give warnings. Welcome to the party, kid."

Raidou turned his attention back to his book, took a careful side-step -- albeit a slightly late one -- and returned to his peaceful, fiction-laced day off. For about ten seconds anyway.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 07:52 am UTC (link)
"No dancing, no warnings. Sounds like a real picnic." Ryouma glared down at the boxes in his arms--And you're lucky I didn't kick you in the head for touching my stuff, jerk--and reclaimed his temper with a serious effort. The guy had at least picked everything up, which was more than Ryouma probably would've done in his place. Granted, he wouldn't have touched someone else's personal possessions in the first place--unless he meant to nick them, which was another matter entirely--but still.

This guy was the first person Ryouma had seen wandering these halls since the desk clerk had cursorily glanced over his entrance papers and waved him on with an airy refusal to answer any questions, and he wasn't going to pass up the chance for a native guide.

"Since you're so welcoming and all, mind telling me where there's an open apartment? Desk monkey lost the book, and the map's worse than useless."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 08:11 am UTC (link)
Raidou was, on occasion, a nice guy. Which is mostly why he didn't turn around, stick up a middle finger and tell the guy leaking killing intent everywhere to sit on it and spin. Well, that and he was half-sedated with gleeful fiction -- for a badly written piece of fluff, his book was still gloriously addictive. He did turn, but all he gave the rookie -- he had to be a rookie, the boxes were a big clue in that department -- was a level look and a quiet snort. "That was welcoming, kid. If I was less welcoming I would've dumped you on your head to knock some of the idiocy out."

Raidou was a nice guy, he was not necessarily a polite guy.

He folded down a page, shoved the book in his back pocket and stepped over to take a look at the map. It was, he had to admit, fairly confusing, unless you happened to be one of those people capable of thinking in spirals. "We're probably here," he said after a moment, tapping a likely colourful square. "The apartments are all up a couple floors. Think you're capable of finding your way, or do you need someone to hold your hand?"

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 08:19 am UTC (link)
"You could try," Ryouma muttered not-quite under his breath. He was a good inch taller than the other guy, even without counting the relative height of their hair. And he'd bet what little hard cash he had that the veteran wasn't more than a year or two older than Ryouma himself. It was kind of hard to tell with the scar that rippled across half the guy's face, as if he'd come out on the losing end of a jutsu akin to one of Ryouma's own. (Though obviously not one of Ryouma's own. For one thing, he'd never met this man in his life. For another, he wouldn't have missed.)

"I figured out where the apartments are, anyway," he added, shifting his boxes just enough that, if the jerk actually tried following through with his less-welcoming threat, he could drop them in a (hopefully) controlled fashion and go for a kunai instead. "I was asking which ones are empty. Guess I should've spoken a little louder. I know your hearing kinda starts to go when you get geriatric like that."

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-01 08:42 am UTC (link)
Genma was just coming up from the basement when he heard Raidou exchanging words with someone. They didn't exactly sound like fighting words... yet. But they didn't sound exactly friendly either. In fact, the closer he got, the less friendly they sounded, especially the stranger. He popped around the corner to see his friend toe-to-toe with a big guy, even bigger than Raidou and that was not a common find, even in ANBU's halls. A big guy dressed for weather other than the snow flurries that had been spitting fitfully down on Konoha all morning. Some kind of band t-shirt that exposed a seriously intricate tattoo on his forearm. A bandage around his left biceps peeking out below the sleeve. And he had on shorts in some indeterminate shade of olive drab, baggy and worn. Plus he was carrying boxes and looking at the map. A rookie then.

Raidou could undoubtedly handle a rookie by himself, but where was the fun in that? Plus the rookie looked a little edgy and like he might be the sort to resort to serious violence. Since Raidou wouldn't hesitate to meet like with like, there would undoubtedly be bloodshed, and then who would go drinking with him that night? Well, maybe Aoba, but that was beside the point. It was more pleasant if Raidou wasn't off on a medical from fighting with a rookie, and definitely more pleasant if there wasn't some sort of inquiry into how a rookie came to be grievously injured on his first day in house, not on a mission.

"Yo, Rai," he said, popping up next to Raidou and flashing the rookie a grin. "Who's the noob? This some kind of initiation thing?" he asked, gesturing at Ryouma's shorts. "Trying to prove you're tough enough to hack the cold? You know quartermaster does actually issue us winter-weight cloaks and uniforms. If you're in you don't have to keep proving how manly you are."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 08:43 am UTC (link)
They were like rats. Toss a kunai at one, and another popped up before the first one even stopped twitching. Ryouma's grin slipped towards a baring of teeth, wild-edged and feral. "You said it, ma'am. I'm in; I got nothing to prove. You two old ladies might want to bundle up in another shawl or two if you're heading out for pachinko, though. It's kinda cold out there."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 09:07 am UTC (link)
There are some moments in life you want to freeze, take a lovely photo of, press into a large book, and pull out again to laugh at on blue days. Hearing Genma called 'ma'am' was one such moment in Raidou's life. He paused, rising killing intent stuttering to a halt, and held up a hand. "Just give me one second," he said to the air, a slightly beatific expression sweeping across his face, "I need to fully appreciate the beauty of what just happened."

Raidou took it all back, there was a god. And he had a sense of humour.

He turned to Genma and gave him a quick but noticeable once-over. "You know, you do have a slight quality of old maid about you," he said finally, with the gravitas of tone one gave to an important conclusion. "I think it's something about the hair."

Oh it was a good day to be Raidou.

He turned back to the new, slightly-suicidal rookie with a slight grin. "Sorry, carry on, I think you were insulting us."

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-01 09:18 am UTC (link)
Genma blinked, then grinned. "Old maid? Do you really think so?" he asked, and batted his eyelashes at the other two. "But really if I take my hair down I think you can see the inner-vamp in me." He reached up and tugged his hitai-ate free, giving his long hair a shake so that it settled around his shoulders in a waterfall of yellow-brown silk. With a two day break from missions, and plans to go out tomcatting later that evening, he'd actually used some conditioner. It was amazing how transformative that was.

"Come on, Rai, can't you just see me in a low-cut gown? Although I don't really have the figure for it." He skimmed his hands down his chest and over his hips. "Much too boyish. Maybe a traditional kimono look would suit me better." The rookie he ignored. It was, after all, almost entirely for his benefit that Genma was camping it up. If the kid turned out to be one of those homophobic losers who liked to queer-bash, well, better to find it out now, so he could put a stop to it.

One thing rookies needed to learn about ANBU, and learn pretty damn quick: there was none of that worrying about who fooled around with whom, who dressed up in what kind of silk, or who slept with a damn teddy bear if it came down to it. The social rules of the outside world were turned on their head for ANBU. Although speculation about Shida's collection of garter belts and camisoles were allowed. But that was Shida. It was different.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 09:28 am UTC (link)
"Nah," Ryouma said decisively. "If you're fussing like that, it's a cardigan for sure."

He'd lost the wild edge to his grin, though, and that slightly strangled sound as Genma shook out his hair had suspiciously resembled a snigger. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened; he'd been intent on pushing, on provoking the sort of reaction that would reassure him that he was in control. Maybe the long-haired man was right. He didn't have to prove his skills here--he was ANBU now; talent was a given--but proving himself was another matter entirely

He didn't seem to have flubbed it. Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever the result, he couldn't back down now. He switched on his cocky smile, the one that had girls itching to either kiss him or slap him, and winked winningly at the new arrival. "If you've made up your mind what you're gonna wear, ma'am, would you mind telling me where there's an open apartment?"

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-01 09:37 am UTC (link)
"Well, sugarplum," Genma said, with just as much attitude as the big guy, "I suppose I might be able to help you find a place. But how about we get to know each other a little first?" He straightened up and leaned back against the wall, suddenly looking a lot more like a lethal weapon or maybe a big cat, than a foppish fool. Still grinning, with his hips thrust just so, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light, he was in his element.

"First off, names. Shiranui Genma," he said indicating himself. "And you are?" He winked right back and licked his lips. "After all, it doesn't seem right to be showing a gentleman to a bedroom without at least knowing his name."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 09:53 am UTC (link)
"Oi," said Raidou, without any real rancour, "don't I get featured in this little production? I realize I didn't pick an outfit," and he was not going to, thank you very much, Raidou and lace just didn't mix, "but someone's got to keep you two fabulous delights in line."

Apparently it was infectious. He was starting to talk like them. Ye gods.

Raidou shook his head. "Name's Namiashi Raidou," he said, hooking a thumb at himself, "and technically you don't get a name for the next six months, once you prove you don't need it carved in the rock. But seeing as how you just made my day very special--" ma'am, mwahaha, "you get to join a privileged few." He smiled slightly, a crooked bow of lips. "And there's a free place next to mine if you can stand living near two old biddies."

Someone had to make sure the new kid didn't get himself flat out slayed on his first day. And that kind of job fell squarely in Raidou's territory.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 10:01 am UTC (link)
So, uh, that had totally backfired on him. Though he probably should have expected it, given Shiranui's...everything. At least Namiashi's intervention gave him a little mental breathing space, a chance to get his feet under him and recalculate his next attack.

"Unfortunately," he told Shiranui with (very well-feigned) real regret, "I'm no gentleman. Name's Tousaki Ryouma." It would've been nice to add, You've probably heard of me, but with his luck they probably hadn't. Eh, well, it wasn't like the only kid in Konoha who could dispose of the evidence--any evidence--quicker and cleaner than a medic nin would have any sort of worthwhile reputation. His jutsu weren't anywhere near as flashy as Sharingan no Kakashi's. They didn't make the viewer gasp in awe; they tended to make him throw up instead.

The offer of an open apartment was something else, though, and it took Ryouma a moment to work up any sort of answer. "As long as there's a window and an easy way to dispose of the bodies, I'll be good." Not that he ever needed another way to get rid of organic materials quickly, but it sounded reasonably cool.

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-01 10:16 am UTC (link)
Genma was much too good a ninja to actually flinch when he recognized the name, but inside his stomach did a little flop of anxiety. Tousaki Ryouma was a name associated with one thing, and one thing only: a jutsu that turned flesh to liquid, rotting slag. He'd heard about him during the war. About a kid whose jutsu was so horrific his own comrades got sick when he used it to protect them. A jutsu that someone told Genma about because it had reminded them of the way Genma's liquid metal jutsu worked. Something like a nightmare.

He glanced at Raidou's face--the scarred side was towards him, looking exactly as if it had been molten and resolidified--and hoped to gods Raidou didn't recognize that name. And that he'd never have to take a mission with this rookie.

"Didn't know you wanted a pet," he said to Raidou, keeping his voice low and even. There was a wariness in him now, a sharpening of that dangerous edge that had barely glinted through before. "You really want to move a rookie in next to us? You're the one who'll end up feeding him and cleaning up after him."

And I'm the one who will have to clean you up, if you ever see what this kid can do.

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 10:41 am UTC (link)
Raidou didn't recognize the name, but he damn sure caught the shift in Genma's mood, and turned slightly to cast the man a look. Genma could turn on a ryou, and his mood pendulum-ed worse then a teenage girl's on occasion, but he generally had a good reason for it. Now if he would just tell Raidou the reason half the time that would sure make life a hell of a lot easier. Raidou lifted an eyebrow, "I'll even feed him and take him for walks every day, I promise. Happy, mother?"

What the hell is up with you, Shiranui?

Raidou's expression flickered slightly as he registered Genma was looking at his scar. It was an almost unnoticeable twitch, unless you happened to be looking for it. His hand came up automatically and brushed the edge of warped flesh that began at the bridge of his nose, before he yanked it down, shoving both hands into his pockets. He turned back to the rookie -- Tousaki -- and shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "Looks like you've got a place, stretch. We'll show you up--" provided Genma stops being weird, "--I assume you don't need a hand with your stuff?"

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 10:43 am UTC (link)
"Nah, I'm good." He resettled the boxes in his arms, one eye still on Shiranui, and offered belatedly, "Thanks."

He wouldn't be much of a ninja at all if he couldn't sense the change in the man when he'd given his name. If Shiranui had been predatory before, he was dangerous now. And it looked like Namiashi hadn't heard whatever story Shiranui had, so--

So. If it's gonna be a problem, get it over with. He shifted the boxes again, set his feet squarely, threw back his shoulders, and said, "I really do that, y'know. Dispose of bodies. People. Never touched a comrade, but..." His eyes flicked to Namiashi's face, to the scar that looked so much like the botched results of one of his jutsu, if his victim ever had a chance to heal. "If it's gonna be a problem, I can head off now."

There were other rooms, after all, other neighbors. And if other ninja weren't ashamed of what they did when they slit a victim's throat or ripped out their hearts, why should he be?

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-01 11:00 am UTC (link)
Raidou blinked, but didn't say anything. Genma wasn't sure if that meant he was putting two and two together and coming up with a corpse that looked a little too much like himself, or if he was just letting it slide. Not going there. Not following the implications. Ryouma's glance at his face though, couldn't have failed to register. Especially not with the way Raidou's hands twitched, like he wanted to reach up and touch his scar. Like he had done just moments before. Genma cursed himself for having given his own anxiety away. What the hell kind of friend was he, anyway?

"It's not gonna be a problem," Genma said, meeting Ryouma's defiant gaze, "so long as you don't feel a need to do it here." It was unfair, after all, to be prejudiced against the kid for using a jutsu that a lot of people found horrifying. Were Genma's poisons or his metal jutsu any different? Wasn't dying with your larynx seared and coagulated with liquid iron just as vile?

But he couldn't convince himself it was okay. It wasn't okay. Not if it gave Raidou flashbacks. No, this decision had to be up to Raidou.

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-01 11:47 am UTC (link)
Of course, there were other moments in life that gave you the proverbial knee to the gut. Raidou blinked -- the elite shinobi equivalent of a really spectacular double take -- and worked to keep his hands from clenching. People needed to stop looking at his face right the hell now. Raidou's solid steel spine kicked into play and stopped him from simply turning and walking away, instead he took a shallow breath and forced himself to meet the rookie's eyes with a level gaze. Tousaki had the same mulish look Genma got every time some pinheaded idiot decided to rag on him for sleeping with other men -- bristling, defensive, and ready to shoot his mouth off before someone did it for him.

Raidou had a small, painful moment of internal civil war -- he melted faces -- and then reacted roughly the same way he always did. He shrugged, quirked a broken grin, and said; "Kid, unless you get it into your head to even up the look I've got going on, I don't think we'll have a problem." He paused and considered, "unless you call me ma'am. You can call him ma'am if the mood grabs you, but this--" he pulled his hand out of his pocket to indicate himself, "--is a no ma'am zone."

Raidou had a scar, yes, and a whole head full of trauma that went along with it, but he wasn't going to let that rule him.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-01 08:22 pm UTC (link)
"Told you," Ryouma said stiffly, "I never touched a comrade. Never will." It was, in fact, the stuff of his second-worse nightmares, and sometimes, after an especially bad mission, it was even worse than the ones where he dreamed of brushing a hand against his own side, or leg, and watching the flesh curl and blacken and drip away from the crumbling bones... Okay, so maybe there was a little reason to be wary. Sharingan no Kakashi probably didn't have to worry about ripping peoples' hearts out on accident.

He refocused with a firm mental jerk. Shiranui said it wasn't a problem; and Namiashi, who probably had more reason to have a problem, said it wasn't either. Therefore, no problem. Target eliminated, report filed, mission forgotten. Nobody could forget things better than Ryouma.

Of course, some things it paid not to forget. Especially as long as Namiashi was calling him kid. "I'll remember that, ojiisan." The cheeky grin flashed back, wide and brilliant. "So, you still gonna take me home? D'you have cookies?"

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-02 03:44 am UTC (link)
Well. Raidou seemed to have taken the data in and made his decision. Seemed okay with it. That was good, although Genma still wondered if he'd be waking up in the wee hours to the not-so-musical sounds of Raidou puking his guts up having flashbacks. Well, he had some of that 120 proof agave alcohol from Wind Country that Yuzuya had brought back from a mission. It might not be ANBU medic approved, but it was easier to get that down a breaking shinobi's throat than those damn little red pills were. Especially down a friend's throat.

He eyed the new kid. Tousaki Ryouma. He was definitely a hot-shot. The kind of rookie who really didn't deserve to have his name learned yet. If he could prove he was as good as he thought he was, then all was well, but Genma hated learning names that went up on the monument before half a year had passed, and cocksure rookies like this one were the ones most likely to fall into that category.

On the other hand, he already knew this kid's name, and he wasn't likely to forget it now.

"Great, you have your very own pet rookie now Rai. Cookies." He rolled his eyes for effect. "Come on, Ryouma-chan, let's see if we can find you a kennel of your very own."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-02 04:24 am UTC (link)
"I always did want a puppy," Raidou said thoughtfully, "Guess a rookie's almost as good. Little more work, though. Good thing I'm the responsible type." He dropped a hand on Genma's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze, "Lighten up, mother-medic, before you give yourself a headache."

I'm fine, Shiranui, stop kicking up a fuss.

Raidou was, he was sure, almost definitely completely fine. The small, tight shiver roughly around stomach level probably only meant he was hungry. Or tired. Or impatient to get back to his book. Crappy fiction withdrawal could do that to a person.

So could being scared. Raidou concealed a frown, unhappy with that little bit of self-honesty, and resolved to get his ass down to the gym later and hit things until he felt better.

Coping method master, thy name be Namiashi.

He glanced at his new adopted rookie -- he melted faces. Stop that! He didn't melt yours -- and pulled up a wry smile. "Not much of a sweet tooth, so no cookies, pup. But if you're hungry and don't mind risking food poisoning, there is a cafeteria around. You just follow the smell of vomit." Tousaki looked like he could do with a good meal -- which he was not going to find in the caf. Raidou examined his own personal spectrum of generosity, and found he could do a little bit more. "Or we can dig you up something at my place if you play real nice."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-02 04:42 am UTC (link)
Ryouma had spent most of his life eating whatever he could get whenever he could get it, and the chance of a free meal was rare, wonderful, and never to be missed. Even if there weren't any cookies involved. Shiranui still seemed less than wildly enthused about him, but Namiashi was making the offer. And in Ryouma's opinion, if you made an offer you didn't really mean, it served you right if the other guy took you up on it.

Or maybe Namiashi was just a nice guy. Stranger things had happened.

"I always play nice," he insisted, hefting his boxes again. He didn't have much, but even not-much could get pretty heavy if you held it for an hour. "If you just wanna tell me the room number, though, I can prolly find it." Numbers were easy. It was the kanji labeling the map that he'd had a hard time with.

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[info]fallen_senbon
2008-02-02 05:14 am UTC (link)
"Yeah well," Genma said. "I'm in 320, Rai's in 318, and it's 316 that's open. I can show you where we're talking about if you want, but I can't stay for lunch. I've got a batch of poison cooking in the lab that I still need to babysit. Was just actually running up to my apartment to grab a book I need." The book in question, Synthetic Alkaloids: Reptile Venoms, Plant Saps, and Other Organic Sources for Acetylcholinergic Activating Poisons wasn't exactly on the best-seller list, but it and a good dozen with titles just as esoteric were on Genma's shelf. Well, actually it was probably on the floor next to his bed, seeing as he'd fallen asleep reading it the night before.

"I"ll take a rain check on that offer of you cooking though, Rai, if you're willing to give it."

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[info]fallen_raidou
2008-02-02 05:57 am UTC (link)
Raidou snorted softly. "Haven't turned you down yet, have I?" he said dryly, reaching out to give the rookie a hand with one of his boxes. The way Tousaki flinched back, however, made him pause and shove his hands in his pockets instead. Typical rookie -- defensive, loud mouthed, itching to prove himself way too fast, and definitely touchy.

He melted faces.

Get over it, Namiashi, Raidou told himself firmly, and jerked his head down the hall to indicate. "C'mon, pup, I'll show you where to grab a key." He'd do that, show Tousaki his room, cook something -- cooking was good, smelled good, looked good, tasted good, gave your hands something to do... perfect way to distract yourself -- feed the kid like he'd promised, and then go hit things for a while.

The punching bag down in the gym was in for a very bad day.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-02 06:43 am UTC (link)
Touchy wasn't exactly the word for it. Fiercely possessive, maybe; he was going to have to do something about that one of these days, because the last time he'd caught one of his teammates rummaging through his pack looking for an extra pack of soldier pills, he'd nearly broken the man's arm. Maybe Don't ever touch my stuff should be right on up there in the introductions with Tousaki Ryouma. I decompose people before they're dead. Yeah, that'd be a great way to get started in his new career as the Most Popular Man in Konoha.

"Have fun with the babysitting," he told Shiranui. It was about as lame as you could get with a parting insult, but at least it served to cover the awkwardness. He freed one hand from his boxes long enough to wave two fingers near his forehead in a vague approximation of a salute, then hastily reclaimed his grip and headed off down the hall after Namiashi.

The other man seemed to have had his fill of verbal sparring for the day, and aside from a few bemused comments about the eye-blinding nature of the interior decorations and the evident mental state of whoever had decided that the stairs should be narrow, dark, and steep, Ryouma kept fairly quiet as well. They descended to the basement to find the Quartermaster's Office, where Ryouma finally laid aside his battered boxes to laboriously plow through the first line of a lengthy form, skip the rest, and scribble his name on the line at the bottom. If there was anything in the housing agreement that he really needed to know, someone would tell him later.

He received a key, a lecture about keeping his apartment clean and in decent condition, and the information that he would be showing up at 0730 the next morning for uniform fitting. Then it was back to the stairs again to climb the four flights up the third floor, follow a long hall past the men's showers, turn a corner, and follow another hall to its end. Namiashi pointed out Shiranui's apartment and his own, reminded Ryouma that he was welcome to come around for food later, and left Ryouma standing in front of the last door in the hall. The doorplate said 316, and the lock matched the key in Ryouma's hand.

Probably no other agent in ANBU would be as impressed by the sight of that tiny studio apartment as Ryouma was. One long window over the head of the bed, a neat little kitchenette, a low table and a desk, an attached bathroom and a closet... The walls were a boring beige, but there were no cracks. The desk would be mostly useless, but it could hold his weapons rack. The closet was far too big for his meager wardrobe, the window overlooked a gorgeous view of the Hokage monument, the rent was cheap, and it was his.

He stepped inside, took a deep breath, kicked the door closed, and danced another jig.

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