| [Jun. 2nd, 2009|11:01 pm] |
The abbot's serene smile had a certain knowing quality to it, if you looked closely. "Nothing to forgive, shinobi-san," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It is always a pleasure to see concern for one's comrades, especially in a... profession such as yours."
"Natsumi-san," Asuma reminded him, reaching out to tweak a few shining strands of Natsumi's hair. Her handprint left a spot of fading warmth on his chest. "And don't go passing judgement, Shiga-sama. Your immortal soul isn't that immune."
For an interesting little moment, he thought Natsumi might have leaned into his hand. Then she pulled back and stepped away, expression smoothing out into something that was almost cool and calm and collected, if she hadn't been faintly flushed and slightly wide-eyed. The abbot chuckled, rippling a low snatch of sound into the unwounded side of Asuma's ribcage.
"An excellent point," he said lightly. "Perhaps I am the one who should be apologizing."
"Or we could sit down and eat," Asuma said, a clenching growl from his stomach backing up the point. He took more of his own weight, pulling away from the abbot. "Look, actual edible food."
As much as he respected religious theory, it was a little harder to be entirely decorous to religious people. They were just folk, the same as anyone else. Admittedly with a little less hair and a lot more orange.
Though, granted, he owed this particular religious man a much bigger debt.
The abbot chuckled again and set a papery hand against Asuma's back, pushing him forwards. Asuma gave the world in general a dry look and moved quicker, stepping away from the abbot. He kept his balance long enough to reach the constellation of small, shin-high tables, and sat down on the first cushion that presented itself, legs crossed loosely. His spine stayed straight in an effort to ease the pressure on his side.
The abbot gestured politely at Natsumi. "After you, Natsumi-san."
"You don't need to bow again," Asuma told her, with a good attempt at cheer. "Unless you're feeling especially masochistic." Not that the first one hadn't been a picture of elegance and grace. But there was something about Natsumi folding willingly to her knees, face empty of pain he knew she was feeling, that set his teeth on edge. |
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