| [Jul. 8th, 2012|04:50 am] |
As soon as he’d offered to show her the charts, Genma regretted it. But Katsuko was dying from a chakra problem that maybe Rina could fix. Or help fix. And ever since that sunrise conversation with Katsuko on the creek bank a week ago, he’d been thinking about her. About what she’d been through, and how she’d survived. She felt small and delicate under his arm, despite her outsized chakra and well-toned muscle. He squeezed her shoulder, then stood up.
“Come on, then. I can make us some tea. You have to excuse the mess, though.”
“Eh, cleaning,” Katsuko said, flapping a dismissive hand as she got to her feet. “Much better things to do than tidy. Like breathe.”
Genma chuckled. “Yeah, don’t say that to Raidou, though. He’s one of those guys who has a place that looks like no one is ever home.”
He led the way to the roof-stair door, a shadowy vestibule much trafficked by ANBU HQ’s residents. A small litter of cigarette butts was scattered near the door. Genma rolled his eyes. “Fujita’s been smoking up here again. I don’t know what his objection is to burning his butts. You’d think he’d be more paranoid about leaving evidence he was here, you know? Not like you need to be paranoid in village, but it’s a bad habit.” He scorched the butts to ash, casting a fire jutsu without a second thought.
Katsuko's face twitched to blankness and her dark eyes darted away, but her voice was light and teasing when she drawled, “Some people just think that the world's their ashtray. Only solution is jail or justifiable homicide.”
“Yeah,” Genma agreed. He held the door open for her, then followed her down the dimly-lit stairs. Something about his fire jutsu had triggered her, and he was an idiot for having done it, he told himself. He hadn’t even thought, it just came second-nature. Was it the memory of the burns on her arms, or the awareness that casting a simple, low-power fire jutsu was beyond her reach and might kill her if she tried?
Did it matter?
She put her hand on the door that lead out to the third floor.
“Sorry about that back there,” Genma said quietly.
"It's no trouble," Katsuko answered. "If I freaked out over everything that brought up old memories, I'd never leave my room."
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Genma told her. He let her into his apartment, kicking off his shoes in the entryway and waiting while she did the same. When he switched on the overhead light, he swept a hand towards the low dining table. A small stack of magazines and half-finished paperwork spilled across its surface. “Have a seat,” he said. “I’ll make tea, if you want.” |
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