| [Feb. 22nd, 2012|05:03 am] |
You’ve been gone for months, Kakashi had said, voice as brittle and fragile as glass. You were declared dead.
But Kakashi’d been happy to see him back. Had grieved his loss, and welcomed his return with a bone-grinding hug instead of a fist to the face. Had listened to what Ryouma could tell him, refused to press him for what he couldn’t, and reminded him at every moment that he was home and safe and wanted. Loved.
Katsuko’s teammates had just...moved on. And, evidently, expected her to do the same.
“I remember you,” he said, low, lethal. They glanced at him, puzzled, angry. He didn’t smile.
“I was at Dainichi Nyorai when you two came back, babbling about your sensei dead and Katsuko captured. My team and me, we went out looking for her, while our medic healed you up. While you went home. Our captain ordered us to end the search, when we couldn’t find a trail. What was your excuse?”
Beni lunged forward, but Nori caught him even faster, a hand iron-hard on his shoulder. It shouldn’t have been enough restraint, but Beni stood still, so tensed he was almost shaking. Behind him, Nori’s chocolate-brown eyes flicked from Ryouma to Katsuko, and then back again.
“We saw Sensei get killed,” he said quietly. He sounded tired, as if he’d hit this point in the argument too many times already. “We saw Katsuko get dragged away screaming.” His gaze dropped. “It hurt to hope too much.”
Katsuko made a thick, guttural sound of inarticulate rage. Ryouma didn’t look at her. If he didn’t see, he didn’t have to stop her. And she couldn’t stop him.
“It hurt,” he said instead, and took a step forward, towards that invisible line. “You felt sad. Maybe punched a few walls, took a walk or two in the rain. While she got her chest ripped open so they could muck around inside. She survived anyway, no thanks to you or me or any of us. Came home, with her chakra screwed to hell and back, needin’ you to be there for her--and I’ll bet you told her to let it go, didn’t you? To get over it. Because every time you looked at her, your guilt and cowardice was eatin’ you up on the inside, just like her chakra was eatin’ her--”
“Ryouma!” Katsuko’s voice cracked like ice. She was in front of him, suddenly, small and thin and vibrating with fury, facing two men with murder in their eyes. “Stand down,” she snarled at them.
“How much did you tell him?” Nori demanded, raw-voiced. He’d finally lost that too-good-for-this sneer, and his breath hissed hard in his throat. “Talking like he has any right to judge--”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” Ryouma said harshly. “She doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to say anything. But you owe her an apology on your knees.”
Beni was leaking killing intent again, straining against Nori’s slackening grip. But the edge was dull, like a chipped kunai; that much wouldn’t even give a genin bad dreams.
Ryouma grinned, fierce and feral, and unleashed his own. |
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