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Make it Right [Closed to Tsume, Ryouma, Kuromaru] [Feb. 20th, 2009|10:18 pm]
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[fallen_tsume]
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[[Takes place March 18th, two days after Pleased To Meet You, Won't You Lock Me In A Cell? and three days after The Weight of the World]]

Tsume glanced out the window once more, though Ryouma had long since disappeared from view. Then she ducked back into the bathroom, angling her head to see the bandaging on one temple. She was down to a large, skin-colored band-aid that looked nothing like skin. New flesh, vividly pink as the edges of scabs peeled away, drew lines back into her hair and flicked across her forehead, melding slowly into the rose-petal pink of new skin. The worst of the rot was still heavily scabbed under the band-aid, but even that was only the size of her thumb, now. It was healing slowly.

Kuromaru's was healing slower still, since his damage was worse. Still, his skin was mending. His mental state... wasn't.

She glanced at him, napping on the bed in a patch of sun from the window. He'd tried again to visit Ryouma. Once she'd found him in a whimpering huddle outside Ryouma's door, and a day later in the stairwell. Ryouma had taken him down so thoroughly in the field that Kuromaru knew he wasn't the strongest, couldn't be the alpha. But Ryouma hadn't properly challenged him, either, and the too-intelligent part of his mind knew it had only been an accident.

He was in limbo.

But she could fix that. She just needed some time to talk to Ryouma. They could fix this.

"Kuromaru, I'm going for a walk. You gonna stay here?"

He grunted in response, and pawed at the blankets until he was nested more comfortably.

"All right. I'll be back later." She'd watched, five minutes before, as Ryouma had walked out of the HQ. She'd watched where he'd gone until she couldn't see him anymore. Now, she picked up a short hoodie and shrugged into it, striding down the hall and nearly tripping down the stairs.

It didn't take her long to get as far as she'd marked Ryouma. She moved fast, glad it was a calm day. There were hints of his scent here and there, things he'd touched as he'd passed. She got another half mile before the smells of the village crowded in and overrode what was left Ryouma's scent-traces. There were jutsu that would strengthen her already admirable sense of smell, but they definitely didn't fall under Haruichi's genin-jutsu-only orders. She could always put her nose to the ground to follow, but she wasn't that desperate.

Mid-day in Konoha, many of the other ways to track someone wouldn't work. If she had a lock on his chakra she could trace him that way, but he was too far ahead, not using his chakra, and the area was filled with ninja of various levels and their active energies.

There were other ways than smell to track someone, though, and Ryouma wasn't unremarkable. Asking if a man who was nearly a foot taller than she was, broad shouldered, and attractive had walked past worked best when she asked young women or teenage girls.

When she found herself striding into the darker ends of Konoha, she remembered his stories about where he'd grown up. Here, groups divided themselves sharply into predator and prey. Even with her chakra shattered, Tsume had no illusions about which group she belonged in.

She didn't catch Ryouma's scent again, but wandered slower through the streets, feeling clean and out of place amid clusters of people. Mostly they were kids, left to their own devices while their parents tried to make ends meet. Occasionally there were dogs; they all stopped barking when Tsume passed.

Then she heard Ryouma's voice.

It was another five minutes before she made her way through the warren of side streets and back alleys to where a group of boys and girls played. They reminded her of adolescent puppies: just big enough to start being dangerous, learning how to bite and wrestle in ways that could kill each other as they got older, but unaware yet of what they were doing.

In the middle of them was Ryouma, laughing brightly, dark eyes sparkling as he guided a thin girl through a hold that would disable any larger opponent. Tsume knew that particular hold well.

She almost left then, feeling like a voyeur in a place she shouldn't be. She stayed instead, recognizing play-battle for what it was, watching Ryouma's muscles flex under a long-sleeved shirt, the quick movement of feet as he tussled with a boy. His hair kept falling in his face, and he swept it back absently with a long-fingered hand.

She didn't belong here.

Tsume turned to creep off the way she'd come--and stepped right into the path of a boy barreling toward her. Slamming chakra into her feet to keep herself from toppling, she tangled one hand in the kid's shirt and hauled up, saving him from a spill, too. Brown eyes glared up at her.

"Lemme go! Who d'you think you are? I got ninja-friends! I didn't do nothing wrong!"

Her eyebrows rose, and she checked for her wallet. It was still where it belonged. "I didn't--"

His narrow chest expanded, and before she could say anything else he bellowed, "RYOUMAAA!"
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[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:22 am (UTC)

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The outraged yell distracted Ryouma for a brief, critical moment; he glanced up, saw a kid flailing at a slender adult, and nearly went down again as Saki aimed a roundhouse kick at his kidneys. Fortunately, all the force a sixty-pound girl could muster wasn't much. He caught her foot before she could pull back, jerked sharply up, and flipped her over his shoulder. "Hey!" she yelped indignantly, pounding at his back with hard little fists. "Lemme down, old man!"

"Make me," Ryouma told her, tightening his grip. The kids around them had mostly stopped their play, distracted by this new drama. He waded out of them and stared for a long, bewildered moment at the woman who'd caught Makoto.

Tsume looked good. The white bandage she'd worn a week ago, when she brusquely informed him that Kuro was being released from the hospital and she was moving out, was gone. New scars were already beginning to hide under the jagged fall of her hair. Her face wasn't quite so thin; her generous mouth wasn't quite so tight. Next to Makoto, in his cast-off tee-shirt and dirt-stiffened jeans, she looked almost respectable.

Ryouma shifted Saki higher up on his shoulder, pinned her kicking legs with his free hand, and wet his lips. "Hey, Tsume. I thought Inuzuka didn't get lost."

"You know this crazy bitch?" Makoto demanded, scrabbling at Tsume's hand. Her fingers, fisted in his shirt collar, tightened. He tried kicking her in the shins.

"Knock it off, Makoto," Ryouma said sharply. "You're gonna get hurt."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:25 am (UTC)

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It was easier to look at Makoto than Ryouma. Tsume arched her eyebrows down at the boy, baring her teeth in a feral smile. "That's right, you hear that? Might get hurt."

He peered at her for a long moment, taking her measure. Then he snorted once. "She won't hurt me. She's soft."

Tsume stared at him. From her single glance, she knew the alley; beside them was a dumpster, the top thrown back. Beside that were garbage cans. The dumpster stank of spoiled food and rotting vegetables. With a snort, Tsume swung her weight and chakra both to lift Makoto off the ground and heave him up and over, toward the rank bins. He missed the open dumpster by half a hair and dropped on a lidded trashcan instead. From the way he gripped her wrists--as if planning to stick with her no matter what she did--and how tightly he closed his eyes, he obviously thought she was aiming to throw him in the garbage. She waited until he squinted at her before she spoke.

"You are very lucky I don't want to smell rotten eggs all over you." She flashed another smile, this one marginally more friendly.

He eyed her. He eyed the dumpster. "You are a pussy," he declared loudly, obviously a challenge for the sake of his little pack.

Tsume grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and tipped him off the trashcan, stopping it from toppling with a well-placed foot. She didn't stop him from toppling, but she figured he had arms and legs for that. "Funny choice of words. But I spend too much time scrapping with other people to scrap with you." Then she angled a sidelong glance at Ryouma, twisting a wry smile at him. He was still holding the girl over one shoulder; her face had turned red, but it didn't slow the whack of small fists against Ryouma's back. "I'm not that desperate for sparring partners, Coyot." Tsume kept her uncertain smile. If he was annoyed at her intrusion, she couldn't blame him.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:26 am (UTC)

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"Good thing. You won't find much selection here." Although Saki was doing a fairly good job of tenderizing his back... Ryouma grimaced and swung her down again. He caught the next fist she swung at him, spun her around, and twisted her arm up behind her back. "Okay, you got persistent. Now you gotta work on less obvious. You see this gorgeous lady here?"

Saki wrinkled her nose. "Where?"

"Hilarious." Ryouma rumpled her hair with one hand, released her arm, and shoved her away. "Pick up Makoto and go work on that hip-throw I showed you. And the rest of you--"

They'd all clustered tightly behind him, half a dozen narrow-eyed kids in various stages of filthy and bruised, watching the intruder in their midst with the wary, cynical gaze of the street. Ryouna gnawed the inside of his cheek. He'd meant to spend the rest of the afternoon with them, long enough to teach them a few new tricks that would give them a valuable edge either on the streets or in the Academy entrance exams, long enough to make them earn the dinner his mission bonus would pay for. But Tsume hadn't tracked him down because she felt a sudden longing for back alleys and street-urchin company.

And Kuromaru wasn't with her.

If something had happened, she wouldn't have bothered with Makoto. Ryouma shoved down the thin thread of rising fear and dug in his jeans pocket. Despite a dozen attempts at picking his pocket, his wallet was still there. He fished out ten hundred-ryou bills and doled them out, one for each pair of grubby hands. The last three went to Hanato, at twelve the oldest of the kids. Ten years ago, he might have been a leader of the old Canal Street gang. Now he just looked after the others, the older brother few of them had. "Make sure Asuka and Dai get theirs, okay? And keep working. Academy entrance exams're coming up in a couple months."

Hanato nodded seriously and tucked the money away. "You gonna be okay, aniki?" He shot a sharp, blue-eyed glance towards Tsume.

"I'm fine. Tsume's a pal."

Makoto, stooping to hide his money into his sock, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "crazy man-eater bitch."

Ryouma punted him. "She's also my senpai. So watch your mouths, or she'll take it out on me."

Eight stunned gazes fastened on Tsume. One of the kids whistled.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:27 am (UTC)

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Tsume rocked back on her heels, hooking her thumbs in the beltloops of her cargo pants and straightening her shoulders. "It's true," she told the small group of cubs. "As a crazy man-eating bitch," she eyed Makoto, "I'd make his life awful. And I can. Because I'm his senpai." She couldn't quite keep from smirking, but she didn't try very hard. It showed off a fang, anyway.

Then she glanced around, finally settling on the red-faced girl Ryouma had been hanging upside down. "And next time he dangles you over his back like that, grab the waistband of his pants and pull. Either you'll yank his pants up, or he'll let you go and you'll fall--so hold on tighter. He's tall enough that if you hang on, your feet'll hit the ground and your head won't."

The girl turned to look at Ryouma thoughtfully. "I can do that... What about him?" She pointed to the boy Tsume had nearly tossed into the trash.

Makoto flushed. Tsume smiled at him. "Bite his ears."

He glowered. "I'm not afraid of my ears getting bit."

Tsume looked back at Saki, but spoke so they could all hear. "If you tear the lobes, the whole ear'll come off. Just bite hard, and rip." Good advice for any dirty brawl with a bigger person--even if it did bring to mind images of Kuromaru, and sudden nausea.

"What about--" someone started.

Tsume summoned a smile and interrupted. "Get to the entrance exams and I'll teach you dirtier tricks."

"What if we don't pass?" a narrow-eyed child asked.

"I didn't say pass. I said get there," Tsume pointed out.

An anonymous voice from the back murmured, "Cool."

"Come on," Hanato called, cuffing one of the older kids when they ignored him. "We have things to work on. Ryouma'll teach us dirty tricks later."

Tsume chuckled at the sign of loyalty--she wasn't going to buy theirs for tips on tearing ears--and watched them head off. Which left her and Ryouma, and the knowledge of why she'd come.

She kept looking after the kids. "So... who are they?" His, that was obvious. But how, she didn't know--and this topic was easier than everything else.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:29 am (UTC)

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"Me," Ryouma said. "Twelve years ago." He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at an empty beer bottle that hadn't made it into the dumpster. It bounced off a wall and broke. "Although none of them are shinobi orphans, I think. Konoha takes better care of its orphans than it did during the war. Most of these kids are civilian, and they all got somewhere to sleep at night. Just nobody else wants 'em."

How much had he already told her? She knew he was clanless; she knew he'd grown up on the streets. He wondered if she'd ever really understood it.

"This is my old territory," he said, tipping his chin to indicate the narrow alley, the decrepit tenements overshadowing it on each side, the piles of refuse that hadn't made it into the overflowing dumpster. "From the water-front up to where Canal Street becomes Market. Hokage-sama cracked down on the gangs after the war, but..."

It was as much of a home as he'd ever had.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:30 am (UTC)

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Somehow, she'd always thought owning a territory would be better. More prestigious, even if you were homeless and a thug. Though how Ryouma could have been a thug at ten... She looked after Hanato, imagining black hair and eyes, and thought she suddenly understood a great deal more. She almost wished she didn't.

"You were young," she said at last. "How'd you manage to claim a territory at all?" She couldn't see Hanato carving out a niche for himself, though he'd obviously try if Ryouma weren't around. But if he were trying to find food and safety and shelter while he was claiming space...

Tsume turned, looking up at Ryouma consideringly, a new light in her eyes. She wasn't sure how he could smile so much, but she thought she understood now why he surrounded himself with people. He had a lot of time to make up for.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:33 am (UTC)

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Twelve years ago they'd had a saying about folk from the nice parts of town: minds as clean as their faces. It hadn't been complimentary. People who'd never lived in a gutter couldn't imagine how the slum-rats survived, if they thought about it at all.

But that wasn't the question Tsume was asking. The Inuzuka held one of the largest clan estates in Konoha, and Tsume could probably trace her pedigree back ten generations. Yet she asked How'd you manage to claim a territory, not How'd you clean up enough to become a ninja? or even How'd you survive?

He'd have expected that question from Kuromaru. But then, Tsume was just about as much canine as Kuromaru was human.

"Not by pissing on the street corner," Ryouma said, tugging his hands out of his pockets. "Nobody'd notice that here, anyway." He shoved his left sleeve up to the elbow, baring the jagged black tattoo that ran down the outside of his forearm to terminate in a complex swirl just above his wrist. "We'd paint this symbol on the walls, though. Sign of the Canal Street gang. You break enough noses in the rival gangs, they know where your territory is."

He added, with more than a hint of pride, "I was the top fighter in my gang. It's what got me into the Academy, five years older'n everyone else."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:35 am (UTC)

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Tsume remembered being fourteen on her genin team--with that insufferable little Akimichi boy, who'd been only nine. "Well, you lucked out. My sensei and I didn't get along at all, and I had one of those brainy students on my team. Though we did take the chuunin exams who knows how many times before we finally passed."

She eyed the man before her with near-annoyance. Three years. It had taken her nine. Then she grinned. "At least with my other teammates being pre-pubescent, I didn't have to worry about getting hit on while I grew tits." Ryouma didn't look like he quite got it. "I was fourteen, when I graduated, too. Turns out I needed to be under fire to learn how to be a ninja. They should've just thrown me into the battlefield when I turned five..."Tsume wrapped her fingers around his wrist, turning his arm to better see the tattoo. It was a little wild, a little barbaric, drawn in black. She could well imagine it on buildings, sprayed over other symbols to mark them out. "A bit better than pissing on the street corner," she said with a wry smile, thumb sliding over the base of the curl.

She glanced at the building beside them, as if it might still bear such a design. It didn't, of course.

In her clan they didn't need to mark boundaries. Everything belonged to the Alpha--though she'd marked borders in traces of her own blood and chakra when she'd taken over. The need to stake a claim was a primal one that she understood, even if she didn't paint it in ink and dyes. As a child she couldn't have marked her own territory, though she'd have liked to. At the ages he was talking about she ruled the other cubs--but they were cubs.

Even if the gangs he was running in were made up of teenagers, rather than adults, he had to have been a good fighter. Here, even the cubs weren't really cubs.

She was still holding his wrist, thumb still stroking back and forth over the bottom of his tattoo. She let go, stepping away. "You rush through the academy, then? Or I imagine you wouldn't have graduated until... well, late." And she knew he'd been in the war.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:35 am (UTC)

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"Three years," Ryouma said, rolling his sleeve back down again over the lingering memory of her touch. "Not too impressive, when you think about kids like Kakashi graduating in six months." Although village legend claimed that Kakashi was still the only one ever to have achieved that particular feat. The closest anyone else had ever come was a full year. Most kids took four to six. Some took even longer.

He'd be willing to bet Tsume had been one of the fast ones, too.

"Getting stuck on a team with ten-year-olds when I was fourteen was kind of a pain, too. Although my sensei was really hot. That helped."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:37 am (UTC)

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Tsume remembered being fourteen on her genin team--with that insufferable little Akimichi boy, who'd been only nine. "Well, you lucked out. My sensei and I didn't get along at all, and I had one of those brainy students on my team. Though we did take the chuunin exams who knows how many times before we finally passed."

She eyed the man before her with near-annoyance. Three years. It had taken her nine. Then she grinned. "At least with my other teammates being pre-pubescent, I didn't have to worry about getting hit on while I grew tits." Ryouma didn't look like he quite got it. "I was fourteen, when I graduated, too. Turns out I needed to be under fire to learn how to be a ninja. They should've just thrown me into the battlefield when I turned five..."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:37 am (UTC)

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Ryouma was a little too distracted by the mental image of Tsume's tits to pay much attention to what she'd actually said. The follow-up, though, snagged his attention again. "Wait, you were fourteen? But you're a clan kid." She'd have entered the Academy at five with all the rest of them, right? So... "Nine years?"

He'd have lost that bet. It was okay. He was going to die laughing.

Somewhere on the other side of hilarity, Tsume snorted, rolled her eyes, and managed a fairly good-natured laugh. That just set Ryouma off again. He staggered against the wall and wiped at his streaming eyes. "Wait, so, I graduated in a third of the time you took. And I'm a full jounin, not just special. That means I'm a better ninja than you, right?"

She swung at him. He dodged, stumbled over a trash can, and reeled against the dumpster. He still couldn't stop laughing.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:38 am (UTC)

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She'd gotten used to the disbelieving stares over the years, but most people were polite enough not to laugh. With a grin she launched herself at him, leaping up and grabbing his shoulder to haul herself higher, high enough to lock her arm around his neck. With him already off balance it didn't take more than her weight to drag him down to her level, her wrist--anchored by her opposite hand--tight under his throat.

"You are such a moon-faced pup," she said with him pinned to her side. His hands landed on her waist; to stabilize himself or prepare to react, she didn't know, but she tightened her grip anyway. "Don't even think it!" Not that she could really stop him, not with her chakra still half broken and moving sluggishly.

It reminded her sharply of why she'd come. Kuromaru wouldn't stay asleep forever.

Ryouma's hands tightened on her waist, thumbs at the small of her back, fingertips nearly spanning her stomach. He seemed to radiate heat. "Ryouma," she said quietly, all laughter gone from her voice. Then she let him go and stepped away. He didn't try to stop her. "I didn't actually come here to..." To what? She glanced around the alley, then gestured uselessly with one hand. To do whatever this was. "It's Kuromaru. He's okay," she added quickly. "I mean, he's healing. But he's not..." What? "He's not getting over things. And that's not normal for a canine." Her smile was humorless. "No matter what people do."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:38 am (UTC)

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The rusty edge of the dumpster bit into Ryouma's palm. He opened his hand with a conscious effort, forced himself to stand straight. "You mean he's not getting over me." It wasn't a question.

It was an accident, but it never should have happened. It happened again, anyway, night after night in Ryouma's nightmares. His mistake, and the guilt was his to bear. He'd thought he could; every time he met Tsume's eyes it grew a little easier. Every time he saw her face, it looked a little better. And Kuromaru had seemed okay, until he smelled Ryouma's hands in a hospital room...

"What do you want me to do?" He couldn't imagine an answer. But she had to, or she wouldn't have come to him.

Whatever it was, he'd do it.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:41 am (UTC)

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He seemed... defeated wasn't the right word. He was just--wrong. Blank, perhaps, the life siphoned away from him.

Tsume stepped back again, then braced her shoulders and lifted her chin. "You beat him. Without even trying, you beat him. He can't be alpha if he lost, but it wasn't a proper fight, and he knows that. If it's not a challenge, he can't let you be the alpha, but he went down so thoroughly that he can't be the alpha." It sounded so much more tangled when she tried to explain it. She paced, three steps away and three steps back before stopping. "It's complicated." Frowning, she tried to figure out how to explain it. "I told you before the only thing that could upset a canine was to have his social standing thrown into question. Kuromaru's in limbo, and as long as it is he doesn't know what to do--and he can't predict your behavior, either."

She paused, then continued. "We need to make it a proper fight. It'll give him an answer." And if Ryouma said no... then she didn't know what she was going to do.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:41 am (UTC)

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"A fight?" She hadn't hit her head or contracted rabies or gone otherwise terminally insane in the last week, had she? Ryouma searched her face incredulously and found only stubborn conviction in the straight set of her shoulders, desperate hope in the defiant line of her mouth. "You're serious. You're crazy." He owed her the world, but this...

He flung himself away from the dumpster, took two long steps to loom over her almost toe-to-toe. "What the hell makes you think him ripping my throat out is going to help? He freaks when he sees me. Pitting us together on the training ground isn't going to help anything except get one of us hospitalized and the other locked up nice and safe in a psych ward. You think he wants me anywhere near him? You think I want to--"

I touched him!

He clenched his jaw, curled his fingers into fists, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'd rather pass my psych evaluations tomorrow, thanks all the same. I bet Kuromaru agrees."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:42 am (UTC)

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He'd said no. And she knew exactly what she was going to do.

Tsume rocked up onto her toes, though it didn't bring her eyelevel even to his collarbones, and nearly snarled. "You think you know what Kuromaru wants? He isn't going to pass his psych evaluations. He doesn't know if you're a beta waiting to challenge him at any moment, an alpha who doesn't care enough about him or the pack to take over, an alpha who's assuming dominance, or--or--a crotch-bitten sadist! He doesn't know what to make of you except that you can beat him, and he won't know what to do with you until you tell him, but this is how canines tell each other! They don't sit over coffee and chat things out, they scuffle and push and fight until--"

She broke off, stepping back when she realized she was going to hit him gesturing. Dragging her hands through her hair, she paced away before whipping around to come back. Struggling to breathe, she inhaled, then again, glaring at the shattered bottle on the ground between them. "Time isn't going to make this go away. He can't predict you, and that makes you someone to fear. But we can fix that." If he agreed. She looked up, tipping her head back to glare at him. "You can fix that."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:44 am (UTC)

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Only Tsume would ask for help with a glare that made kunai look dull. Only Tsume would ignore his plea for sanity with a single-minded concentration on what made sense for dogs instead of people. And, well, that made sense; she'd only come for him in the first place because she thought he could save Kuromaru.

Because, of course, he'd done such a great job of it last time.

"I don't know how to fight without hurting him." His voice grated harsh in his throat. "Obviously him hurting me isn't so much of a concern. If you want me to crawl on my belly and let him think he's the almighty wolf-god, sure, I'll do that. If you want me to resign and ask for border duty back in Lightning Country, I'll do that, too. But I'm not going to hurt him anymore than I already have. And I'm not going to let him kill me, either. I owe you everything but that."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:46 am (UTC)

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Tsume scowled, shaking her head and pacing away. "Challenges aren't about hurting each other." Not most of the time, anyway. She refused to think of Botan; that was different. They were both alpha. "Certainly not about killing each other. Challenges are about--" Her scowl deepened. It was true that they were about power, about strength, but not about hurting each other. Just making someone back down. "It's like a spar. Whoever tags out first isn't the alpha. Canines," and Inuzuka, she didn't say, "typically go for the throat, and someone gives up almost right away." Lips tilted up into an uncertain smile. "It's more like playing chicken than anything."

Ryouma didn't look sold on the idea.

Tsume scrubbed a hand through her hair. When she spoke, her voice was edged with frustration. "Look, I wouldn't ask you to hurt yourself. I wouldn't ask you to hurt him. It's just a scuffle."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:46 am (UTC)

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"I don't think I'm the only one not getting it," Ryouma said tightly. "I've gotta say, 'he'll go for the throat' isn't exactly the best sales pitch I've ever heard. Look, you just said it: I freak him out. You saw what happened at the hospital. And you think attacking him is going to help?"

Maybe it made sense to an Inuzuka mind; he was beginning to believe that was the same thing as an insane mind.

"You said dogs don't have flashbacks. Whether you call it that or not, he's gonna remember. And he's not the only one." His hands curled tighter, short nails biting into his palms. "Maybe confrontation is the best way of dealing, but I think Lightning Country'd be better for both of us." Ginta and Kakashi would probably team up to kick his ass if they heard him say that. Ryouma didn't really care.

"No. Anything else you want. But not this."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:48 am (UTC)

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She crossed her arms over her chest, shoulders hunching. If he'd said no because it wasn't right for Kuromaru, she could have argued with him. But he hadn't said that; he'd said no because it wasn't right for him.

He could go to Lightning Country. With the threat removed, Kuromaru would calm down. As he gained strength and let the past live in the past, he might even--someday--be able to cope with Ryouma again. Maybe.

Her stomach knotted. Short, quick steps carried her away. Back. Away. The trashcan she'd set Makoto on was grimy and dented. She shoved the lid down hard, then turned and hopped up to sit on it. Lifting her knees, she looped her arms around them and stared across the alley. If Ryouma went to Lightning Country, the likelihood that Kuromaru would ever see him again was slim.

She didn't want Ryouma to go.

Tsume took a breath, opening her mouth in the vain hopes that something would occur to her. Nothing did. She closed it again.

For a long moment she just sat there, letting the smells of fresh garbage and old urine filter through her senses, listening to a man and a woman arguing some distance away. "I can't help you," she said haltingly, without looking at Ryouma. It was her job--the alpha's job, and even if no one in ANBU would agree that was her, she felt it anyway. It was her job, and she was failing it.

That was all that she was upset about.

"I can't help you," she began again, refusing to look at him. She already knew what he looked like, and it was nothing like someone who needed help. "And I can't help Kuromaru, except by asking you." No amount of her being alpha would give Kuromaru the confidence he needed. "And if you leave for Lightning Country, then neither you or him are going to stop remembering. But if I'm right, and he stops flinching, then... wouldn't that be better? For both of you?" She looked up finally, unable to tell otherwise if he agreed or not. But his face was shadowed, and she couldn't see anything except the taut line of his shoulders.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:48 am (UTC)

(Link)

"And if you're wrong?" Ryouma gritted his teeth and stepped down hard on a bit of broken bottle, smashing it into glassy shards. "If Kuromaru goes crazy, or I go crazy, are you gonna step in and make it right?"

Kakashi had pulled him out of the nightmare in the hospital, held him down while he screamed himself raw. Tsume had tried to hold Kuromaru back when he snarled and lunged. But Kakashi wasn't here, and Tsume bore her own brands from Ryouma's touch. She couldn't pull either of them back to sanity if they slipped over the edge.

Kuromaru was already slipping. And Tsume wanted Ryouma to pull him back.

He wheeled around, muscles knotting so tight they hurt, and stared at the graffiti-streaked wall across the alley. "I'll talk to him. I said I would. But I won't go for his throat."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:49 am (UTC)

(Link)

Tsume leaned back, skull resting against the brick wall behind her. Her limbs were oddly numb. "Talking won't help. He knows it was an accident. Do you have any idea how many times he's thought he was over it, only to track you down--" She paused, laughing brokenly. "He has this plush puppy he's determined to give you. He understands you didn't hurt him on purpose, just like you or I understand. But if you kick a dog, they expect you to take charge whether you meant it or not. So, since you haven't taken charge, every time he smells you he doesn't know what you're going to do. That canine part of his mind doesn't get it, and no amount of talking will help."

Ryouma was listening. He'd turned, afternoon light limning his profile.

She didn't know what else to say. "Something like this isn't meant to hurt each other," she said finally. "It's meant to make things better. I know it's not human, but..." She stopped there. It would help Kuromaru. If Kuromaru could talk to Ryouma again, then that would help Ryouma. "It's meant to repair relationships. He tries to talk to you like a human, but sometimes you have to talk back like a dog." Tsume grimaced. "I don't know if I'm making any sense to you..."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:49 am (UTC)

(Link)

"Not much. A little." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly between his teeth. "It's easier to remember you're not quite human than it is to remember he's still most of the way dog." Kuromaru looked like a wolf, but he was a better conversationalist than most people Ryouma knew. Tsume could pass for human, but the longer he knew her, the more he realized he didn't understand her at all.

It seemed to be a two-way street.

He took another long breath. "Will it help if I tell you I'm scared out of my wits? I've stopped drugging myself to sleep at night, so the nightmares are back, and I don't spend half as much time in Shiki's chair as I do with Kuromaru's face melting onto my hands. Your face. I don't blame him for not knowing whether to run or to savage me; I don't get this whole pack thing you got going, but I do get that he remembers I hurt him. And maybe it'll help if I touch him again and it doesn't hurt."

But why did it have to be a fight?

"If a dog--I mean, if I just let him knock me down and stand on me, what's that gonna prove? He knows I did it once; I can swear I won't let it happen again, but it might. Short of cutting my hands off there's not much I can do about that. How's it gonna help him to base his sense of self on a lie?"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:51 am (UTC)

(Link)

She tried not to flinch at his words. The last, at least, she knew how to respond to. "It's not a lie, though. It's not meant to see if you can beat him. It's to see if you will. You've shown that you could, if you wanted to. You did it so thoroughly, so quickly--" Her stomach turned, and she pushed the memories away, listening to her heart beat for a long moment. Her voice was quieter when she spoke. "Most canines in your position wouldn't think twice about attacking him again and taking the pack. But if he knocks you down and sits on you, he'll know you have no interest in leading--and that's the important thing."

Tsume smiled humorlessly. "There are betas in the Inuzuka that are full jounin to my special. They could be the clan head--but they have no interest in it." She shrugged. "It's no challenge." Her expression turned wry. "Of course, if this ever happens again he might have to knock you down and sit on you some more. I can't promise otherwise."

But Ryouma sounded willing to listen, at least. Tsume ventured, "It's not about seeing who's stronger, really, but establishing who wants it more. If one person gives up quickly then the fight's over." Maybe that would help. Maybe it would be enough.

A thought occurred to her, drawing her brows down. Surely he wouldn't think--but Ryouma kept thinking things she didn't, so she added to be clear, "Not that you can just walk in and tell him he's in charge. It's more talk, and doesn't hit instinct level. His instinct will keep telling him you're a threat until you've resolved this like canines do."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:51 am (UTC)

(Link)

"He's not in charge," Ryouma muttered rebelliously, but under his breath. If Kuromaru wanted to feel like he was the canine version of the Hokage, what did that matter? So long as he felt whole again...

Or as whole as he'd ever be, given what Ryouma had done to him.

"Okay. Fine." Ryouma freed one hand to rub the back of his aching neck. "We scrabble a little bit, he takes me down, he lords it over me for the rest of my life but he's better." He shoved his hand in his pocket again and started for the mouth of the alley. "Anything else I need to know?"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:52 am (UTC)

(Link)


She sat for a long moment, feeling light headed. All that, and when she'd just about given up--he said yes. Tsume let out a long, careful breath between pursed lips, then swung her legs out and hopped off the trashcan. "Nothing else I can think of." She jogged to catch up, then took two steps to his every one no matter how she lengthened her stride. She didn't say anything; if he wanted to walk fast, she'd consider it a blessing that they'd get there sooner.

This whole miserable mess would be over.

"Canines don't tap out," she said, words coming quickly as she realized there were other things he should know. "They bare throat, or show their stomachs. Since we're always showing our stomachs it doesn't count unless you lay down, but if you lift your chin--" A quick bob of her chin upward to demonstrate, "--they'll accept it. It's--it's more like grappling than anything. And beyond an initial feint to show you mean it, you don't have to keep fighting."

Tsume looked up at him, anxious and hopeful. He was listening, his head tipped slightly to catch her words. Her muscles uncoiled and she angled closer to him, caught up in the wisp of his scent. She'd missed that.

"It's probably safest to do this in the work-out room. Safest for my furniture, I mean. And watch his blind side." She frowned. "Or--don't watch his blind side." She didn't know who to give advice to; not warning Ryouma off Kuromaru's biggest weakness felt traitorous, but Ryouma was already at a disadvantage--it wasn't like he was used to sparring with canines--and he was her friend. "Never mind," she muttered at last.

HQ came both too fast and nowhere near fast enough. Tsume had told Ryouma everything she could think of--probably too much, including reminding him to block and telling him not to make small talk, as it would throw Kuromaru into a human and panicked mindset.

There was no one in the gym. "Stay here." Tsume fled up the stairs, her stomach knotting. There was every reason to believe this would work. Every reason to feel secure that Kuromaru would be back to himself within minutes. She couldn't stop feeling nervous, anyway.

Her door was open several inches. She pushed it further and stopped there, staring at Kuromaru as he stared back at her, blinking sleepily from his single eye.

"Is it okay?" he rumbled, voice dream-heavy.

"Yeah, everything's fine." But something in her scent alerted him; he pushed upward, ear pricking.

Slowly, he climbed down off the futon and padded over. "You smell like Ryouma." His ear flattened. "And piss."

"I stepped in some. Ryouma's downstairs."

The ear came up again, his muzzle rising from his inspection of her boots. Then he wilted. "Well... maybe you can say hi to him for me."

Tsume shifted her weight, heels apart. "He made a challenge."

Nothing more than that, and Kuromaru's head rose, ear rocking forward. The bandaging over his ear-hole shifted as well, and his single gold eye burned intently. With a growl as low as rolling thunder, he slipped out the door and down the hall.

Tsume followed, her footsteps racheting down the concrete stairwell. She reached the gym door almost as Kuromaru did and nearly tripped over him when he rocked to a halt. His ear flicked back, tail dropping.

Ryouma stood in the center of the mats, looking grim and smelling uncertain.

For a moment, she thought the challenge wouldn't be enough. Kuromaru whined and slid lower. Then the whine changed, twisting deep and rasping out in a snarl. Tail lifted, hackles rising, he lunged across the floor and leaped for Ryouma.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:52 am (UTC)

(Link)

Good intentions--dodge, drop, lift your chin, let him be the wolf-god of the world--fled like civilians caught in crossfire. There was no way in hell any man could stare down that gaping red maw and not react the way instinct and reflex and training told him to. Ryouma feinted sideways, one hand dropping for a kunai he wasn't carrying, the other reaching out to snag an extended front paw and jerk--

Kuromaru dropped before Ryouma even touched him. He rolled onto his back, paws tucked against his stomach, tail beating furiously against the mats. An eager whine trembled in his bared throat.

Ryouma stared. When he finally found words, his voice trembled, too. "This isn't funny, Tsume."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:54 am (UTC)

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Shock dampened Ryouma's words. "Not funny," she mouthed, as if protesting as well would make Kuromaru snap out of it.

His tail started to falter, the whine sliding from eager to anxious. Somehow, she found her voice. It was only a croak. "Grab his throat."

Ryouma didn't move. She couldn't say it again. From a distance she watched herself sprint across the room before the moment was lost. Her fingers curled around Ryouma's wrists, pulling him down. His skin felt cold under her palms, or perhaps hers was cold enough to infect him.

Kuromaru started to squirm, confused as to why Ryouma hadn't taken over. Tsume pushed harder, stopping her canine's movement by pressing large, masculine hands against his fur. Kuromaru stilled instantly. One hand on his throat, one on his belly just below the hollow of his rib cage, where intestines and organs were bared in submission.

Her hands over Ryouma's, the heels of her palms pushing against his knuckles, making them dig into fur. "Grip," she said, almost inaudibly. "Grip!" Long, blunt fingers flexed at last, barely enough to burrow into Kuromaru's coat. It was all he needed.

Kuromaru relaxed and animated at the same time, tail sweeping the floor. His tongue lolled out the side of his muzzle while one paw stretched, batting playfully at Ryouma's shoulder. Tsume moved her hands away, rubbing Kuromaru's chest, his belly, blinking rapidly at the heat behind her eyes.

"Pet him." It was a whisper. "Pet, see? It's acceptance." Acceptance of his submission, acceptance of who he was, acceptance to be his protector and leader. Acceptance of what he'd done.

He wasn't the alpha.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:55 am (UTC)

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Tsume's reaction was enough to solidify Ryouma's certainty that something had gone very, very badly wrong. This wasn't funny--but Kuromaru didn't seem to be joking. He thumped Ryouma's shoulder again with a massive paw, jaws gaping in a panting, ridiculous grin.

Ryouma couldn't breathe.

He moved his hand just a few centimeters, following Tsume's lead through the thick soft fur, and Kuromaru squirmed ecstatically. His back paws paddled at the air; his heavy tail bruised the tatami mats. That wasn't the reaction of a dog who was hurt, or scared, or confused. For the first time in weeks Kuromaru looked happy.

"I don't," Ryouma said. "He's not..."

He ran out of words again. His fingers sank into fur, tracing the narrow white strip down Kuromaru's black belly. Kuromaru wriggled like a fish--and then twisted like quicksilver to his feet. Ryouma froze, one hand still caught in air. If Kuromaru lunged--
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:57 am (UTC)

(Link)

Kuromaru darted upward, pink tongue flicking out to lick. Ryouma flinched back, hand tightening for a moment in heavy fur, but before he could move Kuromaru licked enthusiastically at Ryouma's jaw. Tsume fell, knocked out of the way by her canine's big body and thick tail as it waved hard and fast near his hocks.

"It's okay," she found herself saying, hoping Ryouma wasn't on edge enough to strike before he realized what was going on. Then Kuromaru leaped, bouncing around Ryouma and circling back, trying to crawl into his lap before he could stand up.

"We're okay, right? You're not upset with me," Kuromaru yipped, ear back and whole body writhing with excitement. He was too big for a lap, even Ryouma's, but he did his best. Ryouma leaned away, bracing on one hand while Kuromaru waggled against his chest, licking his jaw again, tongue scraping over stubble and skin. "'Cause I'm not upset with you! An' you can be the boss, now."

Every movement he made was submissive, if ecstatic. Joy radiated out of him, hand in hand with body language proclaiming Ryouma his leader. Rarely had Tsume seen it before, and not for years. Not since before her mother had gone catatonic. Gone were the solid, stiff shoulders, the high ears, the haughty carriage, replaced by a wriggling mass of muscle and fur.

Tsume blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. It was all right. He was happy, and that was what mattered. She blinked again, unable to see, and looked down before either of the males asked her what was wrong. A moment later Kuromaru licked her face, quickly, briefly, before whipping back around to his new alpha.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:58 am (UTC)

(Link)

He couldn't even see Tsume over the whirlwind of black fur and whipping tail and wet pink tongue. Was there a cue here he was supposed to be following? Tsume had given minute instructions for how to drop and tilt his chin in submission, but how did you act dominant? Was he supposed to be acting dominant?

Kuromaru had been the boss. That was clear to anyone who'd ever spent ten minutes on the same street-corner as the Inuzuka. Like Tsume, he filled a room with far more than sheer bulk. Ryouma might have called it chakra, but now he knew it wasn't. Tsume and Kuromaru were both dangerously low on chakra, but she still radiated authority. Kuromaru seemed--

Not smaller, certainly. He nearly knocked Ryouma over when he tried to fit two hundred pounds of wolf-dog into a far-too-narrow lap. "Oof," Ryouma said, and gave up bracing himself in favor of trying to shove Kuromaru's face out of his. "I'm not--I'm not upset with you, all right? We're good. I think we're good." His fingers slipped as Kuromaru shot forward to lick his face again; long hair was suddenly gone, replaced by swathing white bandages. Ryouma dropped his hand.

Kuromaru bowled him over.

"Tsume!" Ryouma yelped, as Kuromaru pounced delightedly on his chest and set about licking his face off. "I thought you weren't gonna let him eat me!"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 12:59 am (UTC)

(Link)

"I'm not gonna eat you," Kuromaru said cheerfully, flopping down and licking even more thoroughly. His tail wagged, eye gleaming with playfulness.

"Kuromaru, get off him." Tsume shoved at her familiar's hip and knocked him off balance.

"Oh! Oh! I have a puppy for you!" Kuromaru leaped over Ryouma, bounding out of the gym.

Tsume stared at the door where he'd gone. Silence descended throughout the room, broken only by the way her clothes hushed against the tatami mats when she moved. She cleared her throat again before trying to speak. "He'll expect new things from you. Any sorts of rules you care to make up or enforce, and..." She racked her brain for what types of things alphas did. "He'll expect you to protect him. Alphas go through doorways first. Alphas lead."

She couldn't think of anything else. It was a relief to see Kuromaru happy again, to know that everything had, so quickly, been repaired. Her vision swam regardless, and she closed her eyes, ducking her head and rubbing at her face. Just tired, that was all. When she opened her eyes this time, she was able to see again. "He'll expect you to help him and he'll probably make a nuisance of himself. He was already good at that."

Finally, Tsume turned, offering Ryouma an uncertain smile. He sat on the mats, hair disheveled, weight braced on one large hand.

"If you have any questions, now's the time."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 12:59 am (UTC)

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Where did you start? Ryouma scrubbed his free hand over his face--he even smelled like dog--and fought for some semblance of sense. Tsume's smile was wavering, unsteady, as if she'd had to pull it up and pin it there; her eyes glimmered with the edges of tears. Ryouma almost reached out, before he caught himself.

"I didn't mean to," he said, because it was more important than anything that she understood. "I wasn't going to fight him. Just--not get killed, before he got me down. I didn't--don't!--want this alpha thing."

He didn't even know what it was. Wolf-god of the world, he'd said, barely guessing; but Ryouma sure as hell wasn't a wolf-god, and he wasn't the Hokage, either. He'd been a team captain before, commanding three men and a half-empty base, but that wasn't nearly the same. And the only way he could fill a room was by yelling.

Or chakra, but that wasn't the same, either.

"This isn't some clan thing, is it? I'm not gonna have to--"

This wasn't working. He reached out and snared her wrist in one hand. "Tsume. If this isn't what you wanted, how do I fix it?"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 01:01 am (UTC)

(Link)

They couldn't fix it. She laughed, because it was either that or cry, and she wasn't going to cry. Reaching over, she wrapped the fingers of her other hand around his wrist. "It's all right. We don't fix this, Ryouma. If this is what Kuromaru needs, then..." Her gaze fell, landing on the pulse at his throat. It thumped under healthy skin, beside the heavy tendons that slid down under the collar of his shirt.

If this was what Kuromaru needed, then this was best. She took a deep breath and turned to face Ryouma a little more, folding her legs between them. "This could be good." Her gaze dropped father, to the hand that dwarfed her arm. She shifted her grip, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. "He's having to re-learn everything, since so much of his vision's cut. So maybe it'll help him. If he knows he's protected, maybe it'll give him a little extra confidence." She tugged at her wrist until Ryouma loosened his grip, then slid her other hand into his. Her thumb kept brushing up and down his fingers. It was easier to watch that then to look at him.

She braced herself and said unwillingly, "Don't turn this down. I don't know what it'd do to him."
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 01:01 am (UTC)

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The warm, rhythmic rub of callused fingers over scarred knuckles should've been soothing. In a way, it was. Tsume hadn't left; she hadn't even pulled away. Just sat there, watching her thumb wearing over his knuckles as if her eyes wouldn't lift any higher.

What did this mean for her?

Tsume was an alpha, too, according to her kids. Did Kuromaru's drop in their bizarre little heirarchy change Tsume's status? How would her family react? Kiba and Hana, he was fairly sure, wouldn't understand--although they were Inuzuka, so maybe this whole brutal tangle made perfect sense to them. Yasuo would be livid. Hah. Well, that was one good thing to come out of it all...

"You gonna be okay, now?" he asked quietly. "I mean, if Kuromaru's happy, will you be? Or is this just an extra tangle that's gonna make everything worse for you?"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 01:02 am (UTC)

(Link)

Tsume smiled briefly up at him. "I'll get used to it. I just... didn't expect it." Her gaze flicked toward the door; she could hear Kuromaru coming back down the stairs, nails scrabbling on concrete. "But if it makes him happy, it's well worth it."

She didn't let go of Ryouma's hand, still rubbing across his knuckles as Kuromaru appeared in the doorway. His ear folded against his head, and his tail wagged so heavily that it pulled his rear end from side to side as well. He looked utterly pleased with himself as he wove into the room, the chewed up plush puppy clutched in his mouth. He dropped it in Ryouma's lap and undulated back and forth in front of him. "That's for you!"

Tsume bit back her laugh, drawing her hand away from Ryouma at last.

Ryouma looked a little bemused as he reached down gingerly to pick it up. One eye dangled from a few strings. Kuromaru stared hard at it.

Tsume snickered.

Kuromaru slowly stopped waggling. He watched the toy intently as Ryouma turned it around. "You know," Kuromaru began. "Since you're the alpha now, you probably don't need a plush puppy. I could keep that for you..." Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and daintily took it, pulling ever so carefully--ready to let go if Ryouma made any kind of gesture to keep it.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 01:02 am (UTC)

(Link)

"Uh, yeah. I'd appreciate that." Ryouma relinquished the slobber-softened toy with a hint of regret. The fur was matted and clumped with mud and spit; stuffing trailed out of its gut, and the escaping eye waved gently at the end of its strings. Still, it was a present. Did being alpha mean you got presents, or that you didn't need them? "My birthday's coming up next month," he suggested, just in case. "Maybe I could see it again then?"

Kuromaru's eye narrowed suspiciously, and he backed a pace away. "Or not," Ryouma said quickly. "We can just have cake instead."

Alphas probably didn't get presents. Or steal their subordinates' toys. Ryouma left his hands resting casually in his lap. "You can eat cake, right? Or steak?"
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_tsume
2009-02-21 01:06 am (UTC)

(Link)

Kuromaru started to wiggle again, whole body snaking back and forth with glee. He dropped the puppy--out of Ryouma's reach--and headbutted his new alpha in the chest. "I can eat cake! And steak!" He tipped, collapsing over so he was sprawled across Ryouma's legs. "We could get you a deer, if you like." His jaw opened, tongue lolling out.

"I don't think he wants a deer, Kuromaru," Tsume said dryly.

"A boar!"

"Or that."

Kuromaru's tail whacked against the floor several times. "Coffee!"

Tsume laughed. Obviously, Kuromaru had figured some things out. She relaxed, feasting on the sight of her familiar finally happy again, almost blissful--even if it had come at such a price. Maybe it would work. It was different, but different wasn't always bad. He squirmed around on Ryouma, finally flopping out with one paw braced against a broad shoulder, his ribs on jean-clad thighs, while his head and hips both flopped to the mats on either side of Ryouma's lap. His back legs flopped apart shamelessly, and Tsume reached out to pet his stomach, digging her nails through his fur to the skin.

Kuromaru heaved a contented sigh.

After a moment's hesitation, Ryouma's hand settled on Kuromaru's massive ribcage, rubbing up and down slowly. Tsume glanced up, a smile tugging free. He was starting to unwind, tense muscles releasing strain beneath his long sleeved T-shirt.

Tsume caught his fingers in hers, rubbing her thumb up his index briefly. When he glanced at her, she mouthed, Thank you, then moved her hand back down Kuromaru's belly.
[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_ryouma
2009-02-21 01:06 am (UTC)

(Link)

"You were right," Ryouma murmured, trailing his fingers through the thick dark fur. His hands were warm; he couldn't tell if it was from Kuromaru's fur or Tsume's momentary touch. "Sorry I kicked up a fuss."

Sorry I did it wrong, he wanted to add, but the heavy weight across his knees didn't feel wrong, any more that that happy sigh sounded like the tortured whine he'd last heard in the hospital. It wouldn't last, anyway; once Kuromaru was more stronger, tougher, more confident in his power even with one eye and one ear missing, he'd probably want to take back what was his.

In the meantime...

He'd figure this out. If it was only Kuromaru acting any differently--acting better than he'd been for weeks--Ryouma could handle it. They'd have steak and play Frisbee or something, and by the time those bandages came off for good, things would be normal again.

"Hell yeah," he told the massive black beast in his lap. "I'm gonna make this work. We're gonna make this right."