| [Feb. 22nd, 2012|04:48 am] |
“I vote for the ladle-throwing,” Ryouma said. He gritted his teeth, shoved himself up, and limped over to retrieve his new knife out of the mud. Serious cleaning and sharpening would have to wait until he made it home that evening; for now he wiped it dry on his thigh and sheathed it again at the small of his back. Stiffening muscles complained at every movement. He rolled his shoulders, working out the ache of hits that probably would’ve bisected him if she’d been using a sharp blade. Hell, if she hadn’t been pulling her blows, he’d probably be worrying about broken bones, not just deep-muscle bruises.
Still... He’d put up a better show than he would have last week, without a doubt. Akimichi Masaru’s miracle powders and the physical therapist’s strength-training regimen were adding muscle by the pound, and his hours of hard training--with Kakashi and on his own--were beginning to rebuild both endurance and speed. He still wasn’t nearly fast enough to keep up with Katsuko’s swords, but it was some consolation to remember that he’d never actually been as fast as her.
At least this time he hadn’t fallen until she dropped him.
“C’mon,” he said, and slung a muddy arm over Katsuko’s shoulders. “If you really are starving, I guess my wallet’ll stretch to a grilled rat or two.”
“Rats,” Katsuko said contemplatively, as if remembering a few long-ago meals. “Grilled is better than raw, at least.”
Ryouma tugged her closer. “For you,” he said, “I’ll have ‘em roasted.”
If Katsuko’s restaurant didn’t actually serve rats, it looked like it might be home to a few of them instead. At first glance it was no more than a dank, crumbling hole in the wall at the very end of Kurobuta Street, with burned-out lightbulbs and flimsy formica tables. A couple of chuunin glanced up as Katsuko and Ryouma entered, spent a narrow-eyed moment evaluating the newcomers, and then dismissed them entirely. Ryouma didn’t blame them. The food--rats included or not--smelled good.
In the back of the restaurant, where an open bar separated kitchen from dining area, a lanky old man was pitching pots and swearing. Ryouma watched for a moment before he glanced down at Katsuko again. “Be honest. You brought me here just so someone else could beat up on me, right?” |
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