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[Jan. 5th, 2012|08:20 am]

fallen_asuma
What was it with shacked-up guys trying to play matchmaker?

But at least Ryouma didn’t look like he was about to throw up anymore. Asuma took a mouthful of hot coffee, not missing the way Ryouma had his hands tucked safely out of sight under the table.

“Even if my luck was better’n yours—an’ I kind of doubt it would be—I’m not chasing after Tsume anymore,” he said, without any particular rancour. Ryouma looked puzzled. Asuma tried to explain. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the woman, but she’s got edges that could flay a guy, an’ I never got the full story on why. Which is fine; if she doesn’t want to tell, I ain’t gonna push. But I’m not looking to get bits of myself torn off just because I stepped on broken ground an’ didn’t know it.”

Ryouma’s faint smile was bladed and painful, like a man looking down the wrong end of black humour. "I can understand that. Felt kind of like tryin' to snuggle with a sack of shuriken, some days." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Course I don't know many ninja who aren't all edges." Dark eyes gave Asuma an appraising look. "Bet you just hide yours. Like a reverse creampuff."

Asuma burned his tongue. “That’s a mental image.” Mostly it was a mental image of an exploded pastry; cream all up the walls and a chunk of crusty dough in the middle, trying to look threatening. “You’ve already seen my edges. I keep ‘em attached to knuckle dusters and hanging off my belt.”

He didn’t ask where Ryouma’s edges were: they were sharp and obvious and turned inward, honed by guilt and bad luck and a village that didn’t look after its damn ninja.

Of course, Hatake Kakashi was one big edge, so maybe Ryouma just liked wrapping himself in razors.

“S’a good idea,” Ryouma said, finally pulling a hand from under the table to touch the hilt of the peshkabz. “I might do that from now on. Least what way you can choose when and who you unsheathe ‘em on.” He took a deep breath, fingers lingering, then reached resolutely for the last sandwich. “So, pirates are out. What about zombie-hunters?”

Asuma barked laughter.

Yes,” he said, slapping a hand on the table top. “Y’know there’s apparently some kind of jutsu for that? Tsono Studies just released a big film about it. Legend of the Dead, with Onoyan Kiyano.” He gave a beatific grin. “Did you see her in Widow’s Revenge? Blew my hair back, man.”

"Seriously.” Ryouma’s face lit up, eyes bright and lively. “I walked in thinkin' she was just another pretty face, changed my mind ten minutes in, spent the next two hours barely darin' to breathe. If I ever do anything half so cool as that scene with the swordsman, I'll die happy. I didn't know she was makin' another film already, though. S'it showing in Konoha yet?"

“Came out last week,” Asuma said. He grinned. “Feel like going? I was gonna get myself a date, but I guess you’ll do.”
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