| [Jan. 29th, 2012|12:56 am] |
“You just enjoy being creepy, don’t you?” Asuma said, slightly disgruntled. He picked up the pace. “Gets you off.”
There was a fractional hesitation in Ibiki’s step. He turned his masked face to give Asuma a long, silent, blank look, and the hairs on the back of Asuma’s neck went up.
Ibiki looked away and broke into a jog-trot, then a ground-eating run.
“Eargh,” Asuma muttered, resisting the urge to toss a chunk of ice at the back of that ponytailed head. There was nothing wrong with a little kink in the world, but mixing it up with missions and destroyed men was not the way to do it.
Next time it will be you, not me..
“I freakin’ hope not,” he said, dragging a vengeful inhale on the remains of his cigarette. He tossed the butt and kicked into a matching run, forcing stiff muscles into motion. “In any sense.”
Ibiki said nothing.
They ran.
The sun was up and blinding before they drew level with the sleds. Imahara gave them a cheery wave from his splay-legged balance on the back of Hatake’s sled. Kawai just nodded. Both Hatake and Ginta were flat out and unconscious, barely visible beneath furs and blankets. Saiyuri was tucked in behind Ginta, absently running her fingers through his blood-crusted hair, and head-nodding just a little with weariness. Ibiki’s clones flanked the sleds, matching speed with the dogs.
With silent accord, Ibiki ran up ahead and took point, while Asuma fell in between the two sleds, equidistant between Hatake and Ginta.
It was a long, silent run back to the village.
When the snow-covered buildings were in sight, Saiyuri stirred herself. “Udan has hawks,” she said, muffled around a long yawn. “We’ll get your ninja settled in the warmth, and you can send a message home. You’re not evac-ing them without a full team.”
Up ahead, Ibiki lifted one hand in an acknowledging wave.
“Don’t suppose you have a dog-shed I can lock him in?” Asuma asked, fighting not to stumble as weariness caught up with him.
“I’ve got a floor you can both fall down on,” Saiyuri said, dry.
Asuma would have taken a row of hot spikes, provided he didn’t have to move again once he landed on them. “Good enough.”
A dip in the snow made Ibiki stagger-step. The lead dog from Kuwai’s team body-checked his thigh, knocking him back onto a steadier course. He’d gotten even less rest than Asuma had.
Not that Asuma was feeling especially sympathetic towards him, right now.
The not-quite-road into Yukihana was rutted with sled-dog tracks and human trails, which made the sleds judder. Hatake didn’t make a sound, but Ginta groaned and stirred, instantly soothed by Saiyrui’s green-glowing hands.
Asuma moved a little closer to his sled. “Three more days,” he promised. “Then you’ll be home.”
Ginta settled.
Hatake still said nothing. |
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