InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "And the mome raths outgrabe."

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

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.

Ads by Project Wonderful! Your ad here, right now: $0

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

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)

(Read comments) -