Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I need scizzors!"

Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me
  • Create Account
  • IJ Login
  • OpenID Login
Search by : 
  • View
    • Create Account
    • IJ Login
    • OpenID Login
  • Journal
    • Post
    • Edit Entries
    • Customize Journal
    • Comment Settings
    • Recent Comments
    • Manage Tags
  • Account
    • Manage Account
    • Viewing Options
    • Manage Profile
    • Manage Notifications
    • Manage Pictures
    • Manage Schools
    • Account Status
  • Friends
    • Edit Friends
    • Edit Custom Groups
    • Friends Filter
    • Nudge Friends
    • Invite
    • Create RSS Feed
  • Asylums
    • Post
    • Asylum Invitations
    • Manage Asylums
    • Create Asylum
  • Site
    • Support
    • Upgrade Account
    • FAQs
    • Search By Location
    • Search By Interest
    • Search Randomly

fallen_asuma ([info]fallen_asuma) wrote in [info]fallen_leaves,
@ 2009-06-26 21:29:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Kunoichi and Bastards. [Asuma & Tsume]
[Takes places directly after Pirates and Ninja]

There were only so many ways you could swim back to consciousness in thirty-six hours before it became something like routine. This time, Asuma woke with a soft little gasp that was barely more than a deeper inhale, and felt his fingers twitch. He didn't open his eyes. Some wary, uncertain part of him wanted caution. Wanted to know what the hell had happened before all that black...

"You awake, old man?"

It was a surreal experience to hear your own voice twisted into humour and something that wasn't quite worry.

"Unhg?" Asuma managed, and slit one eyelid open. He was lying belly-down on a broad table, unwounded cheek pressed against wooden planks that were just a mite too sticky for his personal taste. He winced.

Directly in his blurry line of sight, his own face grinned back at him. "I'm gonna take that as a yes. You've been asleep for hours. Are you brain dead, or what?"

"Good question," Asuma croaked, and opened his other eye; one lid still lifted higher than the other, but at least he could see. Gingerly, he pulled a hand up and pressed it to his head. Understanding came back--Tsume's freakin' skull-cracker jutsu--along with a thorny blossom of pain, but it wasn't anything like it had been before. He eased his fingers through matted hair, feeling around to the back of his skull. It was tender and aching, but solid when he pressed cautiously--and then a little firmer.

Nothing gave.

Relief was a beautiful thing. Asuma accepted painkillers and water from his clone, tucked his left arm beneath his head, and went back to sleep. This time, it was nothing but healing.

When he woke again, the room looked exactly the same, his clone looked excruciatingly bored, and he really needed to take a piss.

If that wasn't a sign of good health, he didn't know what was.

He slid off the table, caught his balance against the clone, and used it as a brace until his legs remembered how to walk. The ship didn't have much in the way of facilities, but after a little searching, he managed to locate a closet-sized room with what looked like a hole-in-a-bench kind of set up. The clone leaned against the outside of the door and offered helpful commentary. Asuma was gratified to find he wasn't pissing blood.

There wasn't a sink. But there was, for some reason, a mirror. After a long minute of staring, he managed to recognize something of himself in the wide-eyed stranger looking back. Mostly, there was bruises. Black eyes. Cuts across his forehead and both temples, only half hidden by his headband. His lips were a dry cracked mess, rimmed with old blood at the corners. His cheek...

Well, at least he'd have another cool scar.

And there were cigarettes in his hip-pouch, even if Tsume had walked off with the medkit.

And he was alive, which pretty much made up for everything ever.

Trailing smoke, a raspy whistle, and only occasionally supported by his clone, Asuma limped back up to the deck to find out what had happened to his errant partner.

(Post a new comment)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 03:34 pm UTC (link)
Hours had gone by without Asuma so much as twitching. She'd gone down to get stew, slowly demolishing the pot over the course of the night, and not to check on him. If the clone said he was fine, he was fine.

She just wanted some food.

And some water.

And happened to pass by on the way to the bathroom.

When he'd finally woken, the clone had come to tell Tsume -- and tell her also that he'd gone back to sleep. She figured he could use it, so she didn't go belowdecks again.

The hours dragged on even slower than before. Maybe he shouldn't be sleeping. Head injuries were funny. Maybe he was sliding into unconsciousness.

Maybe he was just fine, and she should pay attention to the sailors.

Not that any of them had stepped out of line. Especially not after she'd finished questioning the buyer about the weapon. Her savagery hadn't had anything to do with the fact that she knew his scent. The fact that the last time she'd smelled him, he'd smelled like lust -- even if he hadn't been the one who touched her.

Vomiting over the side of the rail afterward hadn't had anything to do with that either.

Hamstringing him and tossing him overboard probably had. But it had also kept the sailors in line.

The sun rose sluggishly, leaving a haze like a greasy film over the water. They were sailing toward a landmass, but it was still no more than a blur. The pirates seemed to know where they were going.

Tsume glowered at them all by turn, standing beside the clone she'd commandeered to do -- well, whatever it was she needed done. Her chakra was running low, though far from ebbed, she was exhausted, and she was injured. The clone got used a lot.

He looked annoyingly like Asuma, and as long as he was there, Asuma was still alive. Not that that was any part of the reason for keeping him close.

Her head whipped around when the door belowdecks opened. She heard steps, the murmur of a cheerful voice, and after a long silence, a whistle coming up the stairs. The real Asuma stepped into the watery sunshine. A smile brightened Tsume's face, relief flooding her. And then she wiped it out. Just because he was there didn't mean he was okay. She pushed away from the rail, striding across the deck. The clone's boots thumped, slightly off-kilter with her own silent, barefoot steps.

"How are you?" Tsume asked, nearing and looking hard from one swollen eye to the other. Pupils looked all right -- but they should. It was brain damage, not hemorrhaging she had to worry about. One question ran into the next, as if she could pierce the truth faster that way. "You remember everything? Your name? Who's the Hokage?"

For a moment, she couldn't quite decipher the look on his face. Amusement, mostly. He took a breath as if he'd speak around his cigarette.

The Hokage was his father. Tsume pressed two fingers against the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "Never mind," she muttered. "Stupid question."

"No argument here," the clone beside her said cheerfully.

She glared at it threateningly.

It sidestepped and grinned at Asuma. "She's violent. Watch out. She can't hit me very hard or I'll dissipate, but now that your head's better..."

"I'm not going to hit Asuma," she snapped, and turned to look at him closely again. He wasn't as pale. His skin seemed relaxed, discolored though it was, sliding easily over his musculature. His eyes were brighter, his expression no longer drawn. Not entirely steady -- she didn't miss how the other clone remained close. But -- better.

"You look like something Kuromaru half-ate," she said, and gave a false grin, still searching his face. "How do you feel?"

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 03:50 pm UTC (link)
"Like something Kuromaru half-ate," Asuma agreed, entirely truthful, and tipped his head down to return her scrutiny. "You look knackered, love. Don't tell me you've been on your feet this whole time?"

A grating snort answered him, forced around the edges of that unhappy looking grin. Tsume's expression wavered between 'well, duh' and dead-on-her-feet exhaustion. Shadows bruised the delicate skin beneath heavy-lidded eyes, almost purple above bright red tattoos. Sharp cheekbones knifed out against the weary angles of her face. Beneath that fading sunburn, her skin was paler.

But she was still glaring--not at him, which was nice--and snapping and standing, and it took a whole lot of effort not to kiss her again.

Well, for three seconds.

He hooked his cigarette between his fingers, wrapped his free arm around her lean shoulders, and pulled her in for a hug--one that almost managed not to wrench a bruise or lash mark for either of them. Muscles tensed beneath his touch. He ducked his head to press his lips quickly against the side of her face; walking the boundary without tripping straight over it.

"Thanks, darlin'. I owe you one." More than one, really. He grinned, smile hooking higher on one side. "We getting close to shore yet? Or am I getting a sea burial when you break your no-hitting promise?"

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 03:55 pm UTC (link)
Tsume glowered up at him, feeling unsettled. He was injured -- she couldn't hit him -- he didn't smell like arousal or even interest -- he wasn't a threat.But then, all he smelled like was smoke.

She was completely confused. She slapped his chest with the flat of her hand, hitting one of the few areas of unbruised, unmarred skin. He gave her a highly pathetic wounded look. It didn't sway Tsume. "You do owe me one, and you can start by not slobbering on me, moon-eyed, panda-sized..." She trailed off, annoyance washing away in vague uncertainty.

"So what you're saying, basically," Asuma said as they meandered toward the rail, "is that I'm cute and huggable?"

Tsume shot another look at him, inhaling automatically. But he didn't smell interested. The defensiveness -- not fear -- she'd normally have brought to bear wasn't needed if he wasn't interested. In fact, she couldn't tell what he was just by scent. She wasn't even positive if he was teasing or serious.

She didn't know what to do with no cues. "No," she said at long last, getting the distinct impression he was silently laughing at her. Time to change the subject. She nodded out toward the water, and the blur that was land. "We'll be somewhere soon. Your clones assure me we were traveling toward the continent, rather than the islands, so..." She shrugged. His arm was still draped over her shoulders, and as they walked she felt him lean -- very carefully -- against her now and then for balance.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 03:57 pm UTC (link)
"I'd listen to them," Asuma said, voice turned wry even as his eyes sharpened on the horizon, "they have a very smart creator."

Tsume made another one of those noises, like a snort dragged through barbed wire; repeated strangling did nothing good for the voice. Asuma gave her half an automatic smile, caught the railing with his free hand when they reached it, and tried to get a navigational fix on a world with no landmarks and no stars.

At least the sun hadn't made it up to midday yet; he could get a rough idea of East.

Behind their shoulders, two clones hovered. Asuma didn't have to look at them to know they were trading significant glances. Carefully, he felt his way through raw and ravaged pathways until he could pick out the chakra links that connected him to his doppelgangers. They were faint and faded, weak after so many hours. He debated wasting more chakra to strengthen them, but decided against it. He'd already taken enough soldier pills.

"You want to sleep, darlin'? Looks like we've still got a few hours to go." And no plan beyond that. He squinted, trying to pick out anything identifiable on that distant coast. Beneath his arm, Tsume's whipcord body bled heat into skin that still wasn't entirely convinced it was awake. "Plus it's probably my turn to terrify our sailor buddies."

Quietly, one of the clones chuckled.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 03:58 pm UTC (link)
For a moment, Tsume was prepared to say she was just fine. Then sanity set in, and she nodded. "If you're sure your head is all right..." and he wasn't about to keel over dead after all.

"Sweetheart," Asuma drawled, "my head's never been all right. It's part of my charm."

Tsume huffed a chuckle and took that as a yes. "Then the clones can catch you up on everything." Including the lack of information she'd gotten from the last buyer -- apparently only the captain had known the details, and she'd killed him in her panic.

She was definitely going to let a clone break that information to Asuma. Of all the rookie mistakes to make... At least it would give Intel something to do.

"Wake me when we're off the ocean," she called, turning and heading toward the stairs. Wolf's teeth, but she was looking forward to being on land.

Tsume found an empty cabin -- the captain's, from the size and appearance -- and shoved a chair under the door handle to keep it closed. Not that the sailors would bother her down here, but...

She curled under the blankets, and was out cold before she'd had a chance to wonder if her injuries would keep her awake.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 04:10 pm UTC (link)
Left alone with half a crew of terrified sailors and four waning clones, Asuma leaned on the railing, studied the skyscape, and wondered what to do with himself. Every mission had one of these moments, when the excitement was over, injuries had finally sorted themselves out on the line between painful and probably not fatal, and the immediate future held nothing but waiting.

After a moment, he remembered the two still-hovering clones, whacked his forehead (very gently), and ordered them back to work. The third was still up in the rigging, eyes fixed on the horizon, voice cracking out orders to the men around it. The fourth was leaning lazily on the wheel, idling the wooden spokes between its hands; out of all of them, it had the most chakra left.

There were eight sailors, ranged out between the deck and the sails, all of them burly and tanned and barefoot. Asuma regarded each of them in turn, but found none that would meet his eyes. He thought about striking up a conversation, but condemned men had nothing on their minds but the hangman's noose, and he wasn't in the mood for begging.

The distant land was still nothing but a smudge on the horizon, like a god's blurry fingerprint.

He sighed.

Then he finished his cigarette, lit another, backtracked his steps to the galley, dug out the first three edible-looking cans to catch his attention and a small keg of something that was probably water, headed back up onto the deck, (didn't stop to think about checking on Tsume), grabbed the first abandoned shirt that presented itself, and clumped up to drop--carefully down behind the wheel-clone.

"Hey."

"Mornin'," returned the clone, without looking at him. "Bored?"

"Yup." Stiffly, he yanked the shirt on. Then he pulled out a trench knife to set about levering the cans open. "What'd I miss?"

"Your pretty little partner almost goring a guy to death, for starters." The clone sounded amused. "Didn't even kill him before she tossed him overboard. Turns out your buyer's captain was the only one who knew anything."

"Damn," Asuma muttered. He licked a drip of juice off his blade, then pulled a face and spat, ridding himself of the taste of enemy blood. "How's she been?"

"Tsume?" The clone glanced back, head tipping thoughtfully as Asuma nodded. "Tense, snappy, snarling. Tired and hurting. Pretending she wasn't checking on you every ten minutes. She threw up after she got done with her screamer. Good, otherwise."

There was probably some social commentary in wordless acknowledgement Asuma gave, as he accepted everything and questioned nothing. If anything, he was grateful; at least Tsume had got to vent something on one poor bastard.

Which left eight for him to deal with once they hit land.

Silence settled, broken only by short commands and high whistles from clones and crew. By quietly slapping waves, and the mental noise of half-formed plans. He polished off two cans and half the water, smoked his remaining cigarettes, took more painkillers, organized his thoughts enough to scrape together the threads of thank you into a battered, silent prayer, and passed the time playing cards with the wheel-clone.

Halfway to the shore, one of his deck-clones shimmered and vanished, startling the sailors. Asuma scowled and pressed more chakra into the remaining three. Despite that, he was down one more doppelganger by the time they made it almost within hailing distance of land.

There was a harbour. Small, weathered, boasting mostly tiny fishing vessels and a few bigger sloops. Away from the sea-front, ravaged looking buildings faced the ocean, the paint peeling away from salt- and sun-blistered wood. He didn't recognize it, but at least it was there.

Relief was beautiful.

Asuma waited until he could hear the shushing crash of surf breaking against sand, and then rose to his feet, snapping a wordless order through his clones.

It took sixteen seconds to break eight necks.

He helped drag the bodies into the hold, set his two remaining clones to the not completely impossible task of docking the ship alone, and went to wake Tsume.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 04:17 pm UTC (link)
Tsume startled awake, rolling off the cot and landing on her feet before she was even aware why. Then the chair shoved again, nearly tipping over -- anyone who thought chairs under handles did much against a determined intruder was sadly mistaken -- and sliding far enough for the door to open another six inches. Asuma stuck his head through.

Tsume straightened out of her defensive crouch, rubbing her face with one hand. Keeping her fingers curled to hide the stubs of her nails came as second nature now, and she used the heel of her hand rather than her palm to rub.

"Mornin', sunshine," Asuma said, watching her.

"Pretty sure it's not morning." Tsume grabbed the chair and pulled it away, the hand that had been rubbing her face sliding up, dragging her hair out of her eyes. "Why do you look so cheerful, anyway? It's not decent to look so cheerful. At least not without a lot of coffee." She pushed past him, staggering down the hall in some unconscious assumption she'd be needed on deck, or he wouldn't have gotten her up.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 04:45 pm UTC (link)
"I have sunshine in my soul," Asuma deadpanned, trickles of amusement leeching through the faint cracks in his voice. It always took a minute and a breath to re-centre in a world newly furnished with dead bodies. He fell into step behind Tsume, lips quirking at the thatch of wild, bed-ruffled hair still topping that shapeless, ginormous shirt. "And I'm pretty sure there's no coffee, but there should be--"

The ship lurched beneath them, tossing them both sideways into the nearest wall. Asuma grabbed Tsume before she hit, yanking her against his chest as his shoulder and hip cracked against wood. His head jarred, wiping his vision painfully white for three quick heartbeats. His grip tightened around Tsume.

From the front of the ship, there was the distant sound of something very much like a pier splintering.

"Land," Asuma grunted, when his teeth stopped rattling. He let out a long, slow breath. "We may have had a small crew down-sizing, just so you know."

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 04:45 pm UTC (link)
"...Good to know," Tsume managed finally, pulling herself away from Asuma. She turned to look at him closely, make sure he wasn't -- well, head broken again. He was pale, just as scruffy as before, and still looked like something Kuromaru had half-eaten. But he didn't look head broken. That was a relief.

"Any idea where we are? Other than apparently either on land or on a reef. And if we're on a reef, I'm never going to let you have that great ninja award you were talking about earlier." It was amazing what a little ship-crash could do. Better than coffee, really; her mind was clear and her body awake, leaving lethargy behind.

She took the stairs two at a time, hearing one clone shout to another. They sounded like a couple of kids squabbling over who was in trouble.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 04:48 pm UTC (link)
Feeling not-quite-so-sprightly, Asuma followed at a slower pace, cradling his head when he realized Tsume had vanished up onto the deck. It still didn't hurt as badly as before, but damn.

When he made it into daylight, one hand was back in his pocket, the other was braced against the nearest vertical surface, and Tsume was glaring at both of his clones. They'd banded together against the outside threat and now stood hip to hip, cocking identical unworried grins at the woman who barely came up to their breastbones.

"--no, see, it was deliberate," one was arguing.

"Yeah!" agreed the other. "Now you're both awake and everyone knows not to mess with the crazy ship."

Snorting softly, Asuma headed over to the side and looked down. The anchor had been lowered, which probably accounted for a lot of that sudden lurch. And buckled beneath the prow of the ship, the remainder of a wooden jetty was disintegrating quietly into the ocean.

Did it count as running aground, he wondered, if they technically hadn't touched ground?

On the other side of the destroyed pier, an old man balanced in a dilapidated fishing boat was slowly lowering the bucket clutched like a shield to his chest. Asuma waved at him.

"Hi," he called. "Where are we?"

"Medaka ge hama," the man said slowly, staring up at him. "Are you blind?"

"Nope," said Asuma, locating some of his usual cheer. "Little directionally challenged, though. D'you know how far it is to Konoha?"

There was a moment of blank, staring silence.

"The ninja village," Asuma added helpfully.

More silence.

"Okay. How about--" He paused, frowned, and then turned back to the deck. "Hey, darlin', d'you remember the name of the harbour we set off from?"

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 04:48 pm UTC (link)
Tsume stared at him. She'd barely been keeping herself awake, much less paying attention to town names. "Just north of Plains country," she said finally, turning back to the old man. "Still in Fire." She remembered that much, even if she didn't know exactly where they'd been.

The old man studied her for a long moment. "You got some funny tattoos there, boy. No wonder you can't find your way home. Probably drunk your brain cells away the same day you got those..."

Tsume stared at him. Then she looked up at Asuma. "I'm going to go get my ANBU mask, and--"

"Did you see what you did to the dock?" The voice rose querulously. "It was brand new! And you almost keel hauled me!"

"Don't be moon-blind," Tsume snapped. "We hadn't tied you to the front. Yet."

He reeked of slow-blooming panic, like the sugary honey-tree blossoms in the Forest of Death. He was entirely too busy having belated terror about being run over to listen to her.

Tsume glowered and turned her back, folding her arms across her chest. Sure, her shirt was baggy and her breasts were small, but she wasn't a boy.

Not that that was why she was annoyed. "South of Plains," she muttered to Asuma. "Probably half a day's run. Something like that."

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 04:50 pm UTC (link)
"To the harbour?" Asuma said, trying to keep up--and also trying not to laugh at Tsume's sudden sulk. "Or to Konoha? Because I'm pretty sure we're not that close."

Pale blue eyes glowered at him. "To the harbour. From Plains."

"Right, gotcha." His hands stayed firmly where they were, one shoved into a pocket, the other braced on the side; both away from a head that wasn't entirely happy holding more than a brace of thoughts at the same time. "I don't think I'm up to running that."

From below, the old man was building himself up to a quavery-voiced fit. Asuma leaned over the rail again.

"What's the nearest big town to here?"

"--could've been splattered--"

"Hey, old man! What's the nearest big town to here?"

A skinny, wrinkled hand shaped an insult he hadn't seen in years. Asuma barked a laugh. "Just answer the question, you old bastard, before I come down there and drop that paddle boat on your head."

"Inabe," yelped the man, backpeddling as far as his little vessel would allow. It rocked alarmingly. "It's two hours up the western road!"

Asuma's smile brightened into something real. "New plan, gorgeous," he said to Tsume. "We head to Inabe, find a decent hotel, and send a messenger to Konoha to come get us. Minimal running involved. And there might be showers."

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 04:50 pm UTC (link)
Tsume arched an eyebrow at him, wondering how far south he thought they'd gone, if a village two hours away was closer than where they'd left from.

On second thought, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. He had the information from the clones that had vanished, and they probably had a better idea of where they were from the stars than he did from the sun. Finding out they were three days from their starting point would only depress her.

"Hotel sounds good to me." Soft beds. She thought about suggesting a real doctor, too, but decided she didn't want any half-chakra civilians poking at her. That could wait until they got home.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 04:59 pm UTC (link)
"Because I am a genius," Asuma told her smugly, already entertaining visions of clean clothes, decent food, and a floor that wouldn't suddenly decide it wanted to pitch people into the nearest wall. Technically, they only had whatever money they'd be able to scrounge up from fiscally-dodgy dead men, but if Asuma had faith in anything, it was his ability to charm, bargain, wheedle, threaten, or genjutsu the crap out of anyone with something he wanted.

Like a bed.

Refocusing, he waved back down to the old man. "Hey, geezer-guy!"

Rheumy eyes gave him a look that was only halfway to terrified. "I don't have any money!"

"Yeah, I know." No one with that many holes in his clothes was anything but dirt poor. "D'you want a ship?"

There was a blink, followed by an interesting noise from Tsume--something like a strangled, disbelieving laugh. Asuma waited for the old man to do anything but gape. After a long second, he felt compelled to add, "Because we're pretty much done with this one. The hold needs a clear out, and you'll have to re-paint the name, but I doubt anyone's going to come looking for it."

In the far distance, a gull's cry floated gently on the wave-broken air. The old man's eyes widened, showing whites all the way around cloudy grey irises, like water-washed pebbles. He pointed mutely at the ship's looming side.

"Right," Asuma said, spelling the words out slowly. "This ship."

The old man pointed at himself.

"For you. You got it." To his left, he heard the clones snigger softly. "Treat her nicely, okay? She needs a decent retirement."

The old man sat down hard in his little fishing boat. Asuma smiled, feeling slightly like he'd done one redeeming thing in three days of bloodshed, and pushed himself away from the side. Looked at Tsume. "If you've got anything you want to take with you, you'd better grab it now. Load up a clone; they might as well be useful for a bit."

And there was no way either one of them was carrying any weight on whip-lashed backs.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 05:00 pm UTC (link)
Tsume gave Asuma another long look -- he was really giving that senile old badger an entire ship? -- then shrugged and headed for the hold. It wasn't like they could keep the boat.

A clone followed her down, and she gathered up the cast offs of their ANBU armor, tossing it all back into the sheet she'd dragged it to the galley with, and shoving it at the clone. The crewman's shirt and ninja pants she was wearing would suit her well enough, though she did pause to pull on her boots. She hunted around until she found dry biscuit and a keg of water, handed both off to the other clone, and marched back up to the deck. The whip was still lying in a heap, dark and slightly shiny in the morning sun. She picked it up, swinging it experimentally. One clone hopped out of the way. She snorted. It looked like it would take some practice to work the whip properly; there was no way she could hurt someone with it in her current shape. She tried to pop it -- it had looked so easy -- and instead it just swung around wildly, nearly smacking her in the face.

The clones snickered. She gave them dark looks and coiled the weapon back up. "We trading him boats?" she called to Asuma. "Dunno about you, but I don't fancy a swim through saltwater."

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 05:01 pm UTC (link)
Back down in the hold and rifling through sixteen grubby pirate pockets he really should have turned out earlier, Asuma paused to contemplate that mental image. He winced hard. "Got that right." It was more of a mutter than a shout, pitched low to save his skull; the dead sailors seemed disinclined to comment.

Hands filled with a scratching of silver and gold, he made his way back up to the deck half a minute later and regarded the clones Tsume had weighed down like a brace of pack-horses. They gave him long-suffering looks. Asuma scratched food and water off his mental list of supplies to gather, and glanced at his mission partner.

Tsume was slinging Gurou's whip around her torso like a war trophy.

If there was a word for what it felt like to look at that gleaming length of black-red leather wrapping around one shoulder and down to the opposite hip, crushing the too-big shirt against that too-small body, Asuma didn't have it. His back itched. Something like residual anger turned over in his stomach, yanked up from a place that hadn't quite forgotten about being beaten unconscious.

Grouchily, he tried to shove his hands into pockets he didn't have, and wished they hadn't thrown Gurou's corpse overboard quite so soon. Fish couldn't kick nearly as hard as brassed off shinobi.

Then he shoved the thought aside.

"Good look for you, darlin'." Better than the last time she'd been on the wrong side of twelve feet of cowhide, anyway. He dumped his coins into a clone's hand, ordered them both over the side and down to the old man's boat, and followed suit, climbing stiffly onto the rail. "Coming?"

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 05:02 pm UTC (link)
Tsume looped the whip, frowned when it unlooped, tried again, winced when it touched the marks on her back, and finally took it off and dropped it over into the little boat.

"Hey!" the old man yelped. "Watch where you're putting things! And -- you big boobies -- don't overturn--ACK!"

Tsume snickered as one of the clones grabbed him and shoved him upward, planting a hand on his rump and heaving him over onto the big ship. Then she sat on the rail, swung her legs over, and dropped overboard. The same clone that had heaved the old man up steadied her as she landed. She grabbed the edge of his armor and hung on for a moment, waiting for the fire in her back to settle while the wood beneath her rocked.

The pier they'd hit was a crumpled mess, but halfway down it looked whole again. She pointed. "If we can get that far, we can start walking." And get off the water. She was going to be so glad to be on land again.

The boat heaved as Asuma landed, and Tsume's grip tightened on the clone, her kneels nearly buckling. This was much worse than the ship had been. She turned to give Asuma a half-hearted glare. "You are a big booby, and if you knock me overboard..." She'd probably scream. That went without saying.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 05:05 pm UTC (link)
"I will be completely sorry," Asuma told her sincerely, reaching out to steady the first unbruised part of Tsume his fingers could touch. Snorting, the second clone steadied him. "And you are far too picky for a midget-woman," he added. "In my day people were grateful for the opportunity to cover themselves in brine. It's good for the skin."

Tsume sketched a look that was mostly incredulous. Asuma grinned at her, suddenly reminded she was supposed to be older than him--and still not really believing it, even with the stretch marks he'd noticed earlier.

Above them, the old man squawked and popped his head back over the railing. "That's my boat!"

Asuma stared up at him. "That's your ship," he called back. "And anyway, we're only borrowing this heap for a minute. Hang tight."

Loaded down with things and busy steadying people, neither clone had a free hand to do anything like steering. In the end, Asuma sliced the mooring rope still attached to the sunken jetty, and called up the thinnest thread of chakra-laced wind to nudge them closer to the remaining pier. Gentle waves caught them, sweeping the tiny vessel along until the prow clunked neatly against still-standing wood.

"Genius," Asuma informed the world at large, ignoring the spiking headache that said, very emphatically, no more jutsu. He leaned on the clone that helped him clamber out of the boat. Tsume did likewise, enduring something much more like a lift as her clone hauled her up onto salt-crusted, weather-beaten wood.

The world swayed a little. Asuma braced his feet apart, feeling disturbingly like there was still moving water beneath his feet. Sea legs, he thought wryly. Oh good.

"Oi!" bellowed the little old man, shaking a knotted fist over the rail.

"We're not taking your freakin' boat!" A clone yelled back. It added a phrase Asuma was pretty certain hailed from Waterfall, and suggested nothing pleasant about the old man's ancestry.

"Try to do a guy a favour," muttered the other clone grouchily.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-06-26 05:05 pm UTC (link)
Tsume yanked herself away from the clone who'd lifted her up -- she could climb, really! -- and straightened, relieved to be on something still. The pier rocked. She dropped into a prepared crouch, on the balls of her feet --

And nearly pitched forward as the pier rocked again. One of the clones -- the one who hadn't been yelling -- grabbed her by the back of the shirt.

"I'm fine!" she snapped, feeling five.

"Okay." It let go.

She staggered. Caught her balance. Stood, legs spraddled and knees bent, while the wood moved. "I don't think this thing is stable."

The old man snickered.

Tsume growled. She started to summon up chakra, and decided at the last minute not to. Pathways stretched and sore objected to the residual flow of chemical energy. Whatever Kuromaru had been doing, her chakra hadn't dropped like she'd expected after that last solider pill -- taken back when Asuma had slipped unconscious, and Tsume had needed to stay awake.

Everyone was looking at her. She glowered. "I'm fine! The pier is unsteady!"

"Sure it is, darlin'," one of the clones said, shifting close enough for her to hang onto.

She glared at him instead.

The other clone put his things down and hopped back into the boat, sailing it the short distance to the ship.

"You just put 'er right there. That's right. Now you lot get outta here! This is my water!"

The clone stared at the old man disbelievingly. Then it turned and leaped into the ocean, body arching long and taut for a perfect moment before the dive carried it under.

She had to be in really bad shape to be ogling clones. "I'm heading to shore," she muttered. "Where it's not rocking."

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_asuma
2009-06-26 05:16 pm UTC (link)
Briefly, Asuma debated explaining the concept of sea legs. Then he took a look at Tsume's wavering, bow-legged walk as she navigated her way gingerly towards the nearest spit of sand, and decided it was all far too hilarious to spoil.

At his shoulder, the dry clone shifted its various items, draped the bullwhip around its unmarred shoulders--Tsume still wanted it, Asuma guessed, even if she'd dropped it--and set off in pursuit. Asuma waited, recapturing his balance, until the second clone hauled itself dripping out of the ocean and picked up the few things it had dropped on the pier. It shook itself like a dog, splattering him with stinging drops of salt water.

"Hey," he protested, rubbing the back of his hand over a suddenly blistering cheek.

"My bad." A brief, unapologetic grin flashed at him, broad in the unbruised mirror image of his own face. "Need a lift, old man, or will you be joining us on this healthy jaunt to the seaside?"

"Shuddup," Asuma told it, mostly without rancour. "And if you want to be useful, go find me some cigarettes."

It cast a dry look over the almost entirely empty beach. Tsume had almost reached the sand, steps still wavering, though there was a definite air of purpose to her set shoulders. Half a dozen men and woman stood silently on creaking boats, jaws on the floor, watching the mad little tableau play out in front of them. He couldn't see a single person manning anything that looked like a convenient shopping cart.

Reflexively, Asuma offered a wave to a distant fisherman. Then he set a hand against the clone's shoulder (saltwater in cuts, ow, ow), checked that the damn weapon-scroll was still safely stowed away in a surviving belt pouch, and headed after Tsume.

Dry land.

And it was a beautiful day.

(Reply to this)


[info]fallen_tsume
2009-11-05 05:55 pm UTC (link)
Continued in Feuds and Families

(Reply to this)

Home | Site Map | Manage Account | TOS | Privacy | Support | FAQs