| [May. 3rd, 2010|05:37 pm] |
"I was just gonna come in here and see you 'cause I got a new eyepatch and you hadn't seen it and I didn't know anybody else," Kuromaru muttered under his breath, halfway between sad and sulking. He turned so his blind side was facing Ginta and he didn't have to look, then trailed a claw through the condensation to make thin patterns on the wood.
Maybe he'd go home. It was smelly here, and not so much fun anymore. He tugged his hair down into his face, over the wreck of his ear, and saw the bartender wince. Suddenly self-conscious, Kuromaru flattened his hand over the still vibrantly red scarring and looked quickly from one side to the other to see if anyone else had noticed, or if he'd hidden it fast enough.
"Here," the bartender said hastily, shoving the untouched second fruity drink toward Kuromaru. "Have a drink. We appreciate our shinobi."
Kuromaru looked up soulfully, saw that the bartender meant it -- even if the bartender was still casting confused looks at Ginta -- and began to cheer up. He straightened, shoulders rocking back, smile reappearing. And everyone nearby was looking at him! That was fun, too. He squirmed side to side, absent a tail, and tried the drink he'd bought for Ginta. It was very sweet.
"Maybe you met him on a mission?" the bartender suggested over Kuromaru's head. He sounded a little desperate. |
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