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Tweak says, "Run, little thing, run!"

fallen_tsume (fallen_tsume) wrote in fallen_leaves,
@ 2008-02-09 14:18:00

Entry tags:

ryouma, tsume

Getting Dressed is Hard To Do [closed to Ryouma and Tsume]
Takes place early January, shortly after the Acid Dogs threads.

Tsume slipped into ANBU headquarters in the middle of the night. It was easier to prowl the corridors, checking the air for scents, when people weren't moving around.

She thought she caught Nara Shikaku's scent, but couldn't be sure. It was faint; he didn't live here, or he wasn't around often. Or he'd died recently.

She hoped not.

Tsume didn't recognize anyof the other operatives. It was a little disconcerting. She tried not to think about what could have happened to the people she'd known six years ago, the people who could have died during the Kyuubi attack that she'd just never learned about, busy as she was with her clan and her baby.

Instead of thinking about any of that she crept back to her room and dropped onto the futon, firmly ordering her canine familiar, Kuromaru, to stay down, and curled up to sleep.

(Naturally, he slipped into bed less than ten minutes later. She pretended like she didn't notice.)

When she woke the next morning there were sounds of activity, muted though they were. Tsume cracked her door open to hear better, letting scents drift in and out as she dressed, just out of sight.

She should have known something was up when Kuromaru remained so very quiet.

She should have known that, even worse, he was up to something when he stretched across the bare futon and looked at her innocently, his big ears flopping to either side of his scarred head. It was hard for a dog who weighed more than she did to look innocent, especially when his face was grizzled with war wounds. Despite that, Kuromaru tried. He looked vaguely demonic.

Tsume eyed him, yanking her pants on over underwear, buttoning them quickly and checking the pockets.

Empty. Good.

Kuromaru sighed heavily.

She eyed him again. Just in case, she lifted her chin and tested the air, but smelled nothing out of the ordinary. She turned to pull her sports bra on, shoving arms into the holes inelegantly, and caught movement in her peripheral vision.

Okay, maybe it wasn't wise to leave the door open, even just a crack. But she didn't like the claustrophobic feeling of it closed; the cotton-stuffed ears and nose sensation she got. Still, she should have known better.

The movement was no more than a flash of fur, and Kuromaru was gone.

"Flea-bitten half-breed," Tsume muttered, and reached for her shirt.

Which was also gone.

"KUROMARU!" she bellowed, tearing out the door after him, the sound of her bare feet slapping down muted on the carpeting. There--at the end of the hall the wolf-dog crouched, tail breezing back and forth above him. "Bring that here," Tsume growled.

Kuromaru gave his best toothy grin around a mouthful of cloth, and took off down the corridor.

Tsume gave chase.

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fallen_ryouma
2008-02-10 12:16 am UTC (link)

Ryouma had showered at least three times in the two days he'd been back from his mission with Kakashi, but he still couldn't seem to scrub the faint whiff of decay out of his skin. At least it was only a whiff now, and not a reek. Still, it meant that when he awoke on the morning of the third day, curled on his side with one hand tucked under his cheek and the other arm thrown over his head to shield his eyes from the rising sun, the first breath he took was fragrant with the miasma of rotting corpses.

"I think," Ryouma informed his pillow, "I need to try some new soap. Possibly lye."

His pillow had no suggestions. Ryouma sighed, thumped it against the wall, and rolled out of bed. He used the toilet, cleaned his teeth, draped a towel loosely around his hips, collected his shower gear, and headed out for another (probably futile) attempt at not smelling like Dead Things.

The men's showers were deserted, which wasn't altogether surprising; he'd missed the early risers, and most of the late risers would head out for training before they came back to hit the showers. Standing beneath the steaming spray in the center of the room, he lathered up, washed his hair perfunctorily, and then set about the serious business of scrubbing the first two layers of skin off his hands.

He was still working on it when a monstrous black and white dog--barely smaller and much more lethal-looking than Kakashi's summons-dog Baiji--skidded into the showers, glanced around furiously, and bolted straight for him. Almost on his tail, an Inuzuka woman with wild hair and no shirt charged into the men's showers without hesitating for a beat.

Ryouma did what any intelligent and naked man would do in his position. He leapt out of the way, and wished like hell he had his pants.

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fallen_tsume
2008-02-10 12:20 am UTC (link)

Nails scrabbled against tile as Kuromaru valiantly tried to keep his purchase on the wet surface. Four feet slid in four different directions and, tail stuck straight out behind him like a broken rudder, he did one slow pinwheel and ended facing the doorway, halfway under the spray. He responded like any intelligent dog in such a situation would. He dropped to a crouch and wagged like mad, shirt still clamped in his jaws.

Tsume managed not to skid in the water as she came around the corner, but only because she stuck her feet in place with chakra. A single glance showed her the only occupant of the shower was doing his best to stay out of Kuromaru's way. Smart man.

She stalked toward the pair of them. If she'd had hackles, they would have been raised. "Kuromaru..." her voice was little more than a growl.

Kuromaru tried to make himself pug-sized and slink behind the male ninja.

Tsume stopped herself, barely, from reaching between the naked man's legs and dragging her dog back out. Her pants were getting wet from the back splash. She glared at her mutt, who had crouched again and was peering from between large human feet. For a moment, she thought if she just DOVE between the ninja's legs--but Kuromaru had earlier given her the slip down the other hall, only to lead her back here. Tangled up with an extra person, there was no way she was going to catch her dog. She looked up at the ninja.

And kept looking up.

She swore, they were breeding them BIGGER all the time. Like some strange mating program. Any day these big ones were going to start having hip problems.

His hair, short enough to be easy to keep, but long enough to hang in his face when wet, was black. He had that long, skinny look that young men had; fully grown, not yet filled out. His not-yet-filled out chest glittered with colored water. No, tattoos. Colored tattoos, with water running over them. She couldn't see what the image was with the distortion, but the red was at least as deep as her own; she approved. Other color caught her eye, but was mostly ignored in favor of looking up into his face. Tsume didn't quite reach his collarbones. She smiled. It held more teeth than humor.

"Could you hand me my shirt?" she asked in a tone just north of pleasant. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kuromaru wag.

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fallen_ryouma
2008-02-10 12:21 am UTC (link)

"I think I'm the one more in need of clothing here," Ryouma pointed out, but he looked over his shoulder anyway, at the monster-dog trying to hide behind his feet. Sure enough, there was a sodden scrap of fabric clenched in the dog's jaws. The dog itself rolled an evil dark eye up at Ryouma, and lifted its lip to show a glimmer of fang: You just try it.

"I should let you know," Ryouma informed it, "that I'm very good friends with a very large mastiff. Name of Baiji. If you eat me, he'll be pissed."

The dog looked distinctly unimpressed. Ryouma couldn't blame it. Wet, naked, dripping lather, red with scrubbing, drenched hair hanging in his eyes, he was pretty sure he couldn't get much further from impressive.

He glanced back at the Inuzuka woman, and tried an apologetic grin. "You really want that shirt anyway? Doesn't look too wearable right now."

Although... She was looking pretty good without a shirt. Short, certainly, and sturdy, with tan skin so laced with scars that it looked pale. A decent rack, though the sports bra wasn't terribly flattering. Spiky brown hair, slit-pupiled eyes, crimson Inuzuka tattoos, a smile more feral than his could ever be. Fangs.

All in all, very exotic and rather hot. Ryouma turned his grin up a notch. "'f you want, I got a whole lot of others that don't happen to be wet and chewed."

About six, three of which were clean. She didn't need to know that.

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fallen_tsume
2008-02-10 12:23 am UTC (link)

Wet? She blinked, and realized Kuromaru was standing directly under the spray. With her shirt. That bastard. She glared at the hybrid. "Your mother wore army boots!"

His head snapped up, poking between the man's legs to get closer as he dropped the shirt to snarl back, "And yours had testicles!"

Tsume flashed a brilliant grin at the man, snapped, "Move!" and dove for her shirt.

Between his legs.

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fallen_ryouma
2008-02-10 12:24 am UTC (link)

There were a very few, very dark days where Ryouma would have sold his soul to not be a ninja. This was not one of them.

Possibly only shinobi speed and strength--and a good bit of chakra--got him out of the way when the Inuzuka woman dove straight for his bare legs. Unfortunately, by that point he was standing close enough to the wall that when he vaulted sideways and upwards, his head hit the shower-head with a painful crack. The shower-head snapped, and Ryouma dropped.

He never exactly hit unconsciousness, but for a second he flirted pretty damn close. Unfortunately, that second involved the time frame in which 81 kilos of wet and slippery ninja crashed down to the slick tiled floor in a landing cushioned only by the backs of a wrestling Inuzuka woman and her dog.

The jet of scalding hot water that followed him brought him back to full consciousness with a vengeance. And an adrenaline rush. Still dazed, certain only of danger, Ryouma grabbed the Inuzuka by the waist and rolled for safety.