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fallen_tsume ([info]fallen_tsume) wrote in [info]fallen_leaves,
@ 2008-02-16 20:49:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:ryouma, tsume

Pizza and Morgues [closed to Tsume and Ryouma]
Set the morning after Sleeping? Is Also Hard To Do. Early January.

Tsume woke later than she normally did; the night with her neighbor, Ginta, had been nice but sleep deprived.

She was tired enough that it wasn't until she'd yanked a top from her bag--at some point she needed to at least put her clothes away, even if the rest of the apartment still looked unoccupied--and pulled it on that she realized she hadn't returned Ryouma's shirt.

Currently, she was wearing it.

She frowned at herself and pulled it off, tossing it into a heap on the futon and digging another shirt out of her bag. It only took her a few minutes to be ready for the day--she made some passable attempt at de-tangling her hair, brushed her teeth, and called it quits.

"You getting up?" she asked the giant pile of fur sprawled across her bed, covering dark blue sheets in black hair.

"Did you get breakfast?" Kuromaru grumbled.

"'Course not." She rarely ate it.

Her familiar buried his head under her pillow, tail curling closer to his legs. With a chuckle, Tsume picked up Ryouma's shirt and headed down the carpeted hall. His room was down and around the corner, nearly as far as you could get from hers and still be on the same floor. Tsume scent-checked as she walked, so automatic it was almost unconscious. Most of the people seemed to be gone; almost all were healthy. A strong odor of medicinal rub leaked through one doorway, but nothing overly alarming.

When she got to Ryouma's door she could smell him, his scent overlaid with coffee. She paused, sniffing, and decided he was there. Tsume rapped on the door with the backs of her knuckles, fingers curled loosely. "Oi! Coyot! Got a present for you."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 04:59 am UTC (link)
Ryouma didn't usually make a habit of sleeping in, unless he'd overdosed on soldier pills and was trying to sleep through the effects of a spectacular crash. By now he'd gone nearly 96 hours since his last soldier pill, and even the withdrawal jitters were wearing off. Of course, that didn't mean he'd abandoned his program of frequent doses of caffeine and sugar. Morning coffee went a long way towards helping him feel more human. So did the citrus-scented soap he'd purchased the afternoon before. Tsume was right. Oranges were amazing.

Of course, it was apples he was juggling as he sat on his tiny counter-top trying not to watch the tiny coffee-machine chug its laborious way towards producing another four cups. When someone knocked on the door, he almost dropped one. When Tsume called out, he did.

He wasn't a ninja for nothing, though, and he snagged the apple out of the air as he hopped off the counter, tossed the other two into the bowl, and headed for the door. Coffee and soap that worked had already made his morning a good one. Tsume was about to make it even better.

"Morning!" he said brightly as he wrestled the door open. "I love presents. Especially yours."

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:03 am UTC (link)
Tsume took an additional step back as the door opened, smile breaking across her face at his enthusiasm. She did her best to ignore the terrible pun.

"Yeah, well," she laughed, shaking his shirt out and holding it up. "This present isn't really that great. But I thought it might fit." Since it was his, it ought to.

Then she took in his appearance--soft black pants, and a lot of tanned skin. One eyebrow quirked upward, and she added teasingly, "I wasn't aware I'd taken your last shirt. Good thing I stopped by." Not that she minded looking at him in pants and nothing else, really, but it was always fun to tease.

He'd found oranges. Or something close to oranges; the scent was ever so slightly off true, but close enough. He no longer smelled like rot, and that was nice. It didn't take another sniff to smell the coffee percolating. It didn't really take a nose at all; she could hear it. Her mouth watered at the aroma. "How big's your coffee maker?" she asked hopefully, lifting her chin and inhaling again. It didn't smell like it could compete with Ginta's coffee, but anything caffinated would be nirvana right then.

Any chance of seeing said coffeemaker was confounded by Ryouma's height. Not Tsume's shortness. Not. At. All. She was, she couldn't help but notice, just eye-level with his nipples. Huh.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:08 am UTC (link)
Ryouma didn't normally invite people into His Space. It had something to do with every high-ranking ninja's liking for privacy, and a lot more to do with a childhood where he'd never had anything of his own without someone trying to take it from him. But Tsume was here offering something in return--his own shirt, as it happened--and he figured he could probably relax his rules for once.

She'd told him about the Wonders of Citrus, after all. Surely that deserved at least one cup of coffee.

"I've been shivering with the cold and trying to stay warm with caffeine," he told her solemnly, holding the door open and stepping back. He flattered himself that he did a pretty good job of not showing how much effort that cost. "Can get four cups at once. This'll be my fifth, so you'd probably do the rest of the world a favor if you kept me from drinking all of it."

Ryouma's coffee wasn't exactly good, but it was strong. And the first jolt of caffeine more than made up for the grocery-store flavor, as long as you dumped enough sugar in. It certainly helped with the soldier pill withdrawals, but not exactly with the hyperactivity.

He snagged the remaining two apples from the bowl on the counter again as Tsume stepped into the tiny kitchenette, and resumed juggling with a nod at the coffee machine. "Go ahead and help yourself. I'll take whatever's left."

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:09 am UTC (link)
Tsume faltered as she stepped forward, catching a whiff of... hesitancy, maybe. Then it was gone, and he wasn't panicking in an effort to hide things or clean up or escort her out, so she shrugged it off and headed to the kitchen. "Yes," she answered--not deadpan, she couldn't stop the smile--"I can see how your lack of clothing is terribly difficult for you. I'll have to remember to buy you some things." She started opening cupboards, searching for mugs since Ryouma was occupied... juggling. She watched him sidelong for a moment, muscles sliding under skin. "Mesh things," she added in an undertone.

Hey, if he wanted to walk around half naked, she wasn't going to dissuade him.

"I need to get a coffeepot," she sighed a moment later as she found a mug and poured half the pot into it. She sniffed--cheap grocery store stuff, the same kind she generally bought--and took a sip, black. "Learning a new skill there?" Her tone was humorous as she grabbed the mug off the counter--a quick sniff at the rim exposed his scent, the vaguely acidic one that came from saliva--and filled it with the rest of the liquid in the pot before putting it down. "Or are you just killing time until I leave and you can get on with your day?" Teeth flashed as she grinned.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:12 am UTC (link)
"Improving timing and coordination," Ryouma said promptly. He spent the apples spinning in a high circle, then threaded then between his hands in a flashy figure eight. Unfortunately, the tantalizing smell of coffee wasn't doing much for his concentration. He dropped one, barely rescued it, and sent the other two spinning across the floor. "Should probably wait a while before I move onto kunai," he concluded, rescuing the apples and dropping them back, a little more bruised, into the basket.

"My day is immeasurably brighter since you stopped by," he told Tsume as he snagged his mug, dumped in a toxic amount of sugar, and leaned against the counter beside her. "Even if you hadn't brought me clothes. I like mesh, by the way." His hearing might not be as good as her nose, but it was good enough for that.

He grinned cheerfully at her, took a sip of his coffee, and added, "You'd look good in mesh, too."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:24 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:27 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:30 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:31 am UTC

[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:33 am UTC (link)
Twenty-five minutes later, Ryouma was, indeed, sweating. But then, Tsume was too, so that evened the score. Somewhat. A little.

Ryouma was doing most of the bleeding, which tipped the points heavily back in the Inuzuka's favor. He'd landed several good hits, but without chakra haloing his hands, the bastardized jyuuken palm-strikes would only bruise. He'd got in a good one at the corner of her mouth that split her lip and left her wiping the blood off her chin, but his new shirt was shredded to ribbons, and his worn black pants weren't doing much better. She had claws! In what sort of universe was that fair?

He should probably be grateful she hadn't tried biting him, yet. (Though you never knew; that could flip things from cutthroat to kinky, and he wasn't at all adverse to a bit more of that sort of excitement in his day.) He was certainly grateful that Kuromaru had chosen to nap in the shade of a large oak tree and only rouse to offer sarcastic advice every now and then. And he was, beyond all doubt, emphatically grateful that Tsume had decided to hold off on the blinding attacks long enough for him to pick himself up off the snowy ground and check to make sure all his essential body parts were still attached.

"I think," he said, ruefully surveying the mess of his shirt and the thin red traceries etched into his skin below, "I shouldn't have bothered asking Kuromaru to take notes for me. These are probably more permanent."

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:34 am UTC (link)
Tsume fell back, wiping at her chin and the trickle of blood with the knuckles of one hand. She eyed Ryouma, vacillating between concern--either he shouldn't be in ANBU because he couldn't fight, or something was wrong--and annoyance--he was pulling his damn punches, and how did that help anyone?

She released her jutsu, chakra sizzling back under her skin, teeth and claws receding back into their blunter human counterparts. Sweat dripped down her back, under her shirt, and soaked into the cloth. "Is there a reason you're not fighting back?" she snapped. She wasn't good at subtle. Might as well be blunt. And if it had anything to do with stupid emotional or chauvinistic reasons--rare in ninja, but she saw it occasionally--she was going to call up Kuromaru and kick Ryouma's bare butt from here to the Forest of Death.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:38 am UTC (link)
Ouch. That was blunt, painful, and...very true. Ryouma sighed, plucked desultorily at one of the fluttering strips of what had once been an altogether innocent T-shirt, and held up his hands, palms outward and fingers spread. "I told you. I'm a ninjutsu guy." Which said nothing at all about his taijutsu skills. With weapons, sure, he was jounin-level; with bare-handed combat he was lethally fast, as long as you considered an open-handed slap a killing blow. But Tsume obviously didn't, and she was just as obviously an up-close-and-personal fighter who saw no reason for him to pull his punches.

Or his slaps, as it were.

He sighed again, wiped his sweaty forehead with a scrap of his tee-shirt, and shrugged. "Look, this is sparring. You're fast and you're fierce, and that's great for me. Means I've gotta be faster. But...if I was fighting back, you'd be dead. And I really don't want that." His smile went ragged around the edges, just a little pleading: let it be.

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:40 am UTC (link)
Kuromaru sat up, interested again. He dropped his head predator-low and watched the two of them with steady black eyes.

Tsume felt the canine's regard, and ignored it. She leveled her own look at Ryouma, peering from between sweat-soaked strands of hair. "So, we'll work on your taijutsu," what he had of it, which wasn't much--at least not unarmed, "and in the meantime, explain a little bit better why you aren't fighting back." The words were almost a growl; blood was pounding hot and fast under her skin, and the predator in her called for blood. Frustration was mounting fast. If she'd expected a training spar, she'd have downshifted accordingly; she hadn't. She'd expected ANBU.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:41 am UTC (link)
"All right, then," Ryouma said, and if wasn't quite as impressive a growl as Tsume's, at least it came from a deeper chest. He glanced around at the empty training area, with its frozen snow-packed ground and its rim of ice-frosted trees. Plenty of organics, but no flesh, and the Nikutai Tokasu was the only jutsu he'd really adapted for close combat. Nikutai Hakai was impressive, but it couldn't quite so clearly demonstrate why he didn't use ninjutsu against his comrades.

"You know that smell?" he asked conversationally, as he swung in a circle to scan the snow-dusted land around them. A rabbit would be fine; hell, even a squirrel would do... "The one you said made your cousin throw up for three days straight."

There! He pounced, fast as any striking hawk. (And if he used a little chakra, well, he was a ninja; ninja cheated.) When he straightened, it was with a tiny, terrified deer-mouse cupped in his palms. The little paws scrabbled against his skin as he stalked back to Tsume. He held it up by the tail, as if showing the tiny rodent off, then focused and unleashed just a fragment of killing intent. It was enough to stop the deer-mouse's heart. "Any human or animal flesh'll work," he said roughly, laying the little corpse down in the snow and kneeling over it, "but I don't practice on my comrades. This is why."

Ten seals, finishing with the Dog, and his hands lit with the putrid dark green chakra. He held them up for Tsume to see, then struck down at the ground with the same open-handed slap he'd used against her to such little effect.

When he lifted his hand, a small pool of greenish ooze and a sickly reek was all that remained of the mouse.

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:42 am UTC (link)
Tsume watched his progress closely, slit-pupil eyes narrowed as he caught and killed the mouse. The killing intent had her hackles rising, the predator--already so close to the surface--calling for a fight. She banked it easily enough; his intent hadn't been aimed toward her, after all.

Hands braced on her hips, she rocked back to her heels when he knelt, and watched him carefully. A series of seals and he showed off his arms, roiling with what she assumed was his own particular ninjutsu.

Then he touched the mouse.

A mouse shouldn't have generated that much smell. Tsume had dealt with rotting mouse corpses, and they didn't generate that much smell. She switched rapidly to breathing through her mouth, swallowing hard at the saliva that was a precursor to vomiting.

She wasn't going to vomit over a damned mouse. It was disgusting, sure, but she'd seen worse. She'd lived through war and the Kyuubi; she'd certainly seen worse.

The predator inside her had curled up and died a whimpering death. It was hard to have bloodlust going when your stomach was beginning to flop.

Kuromaru whined piteously and slunk off into the foliage, his tail tucked between his legs. Tsume wanted to follow his example. Giving in, she took a step away from the smell. Then a second, and clamped her hand over her mouth and nose. She wasn't going to vomit. She was not going to vomit. Focus on the scent of blood, her own sweat, anything but--

One more step and she turned, retching into the snow they'd torn up. There wasn't much more than coffee from that morning, and the burning taste of stomach acid in her throat. She spat, coughed, and blinked to keep her eyes from watering.

Well. That was annoying.

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(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:44 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:46 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:47 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:49 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:50 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 05:52 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 05:54 am UTC

[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:56 am UTC (link)
The smell was receding. Tsume didn't take her face out of his neck. In fact, when he shifted her higher she snuffled at his hair--not that she'd ever admit to snuffling, of course, but it smelled so much better than decay.

"That's a stupid idea," she grumbled, her usual tact and diplomacy returning as the nausea slowly started to wane. "Just gotta find a way around it." If she breathed through her mouth it made the air between them warm and damp. Warm, damp air promoted smell. His smell. She breathed out through her mouth to make the scent grow, and in through her nose as if she could purge her nostrils of rot.

Out through the mouth. In through the nose.

"You don't vomit. I mean, granted, you're normal and scent-blind," she muttered in the same way she might have pointed out he had black hair. "But at some point it must have stunk."

Out through the mouth. In through the nose.

"You jutsu your nose dead or something?" Because that would not be helpful.

Oh great merciful stars, her stomach was thinking about settling. Out through the mouth. In through the nose.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:57 am UTC (link)
He huffed slightly with laughter. "You get sick every time you smell a battle-field?" Um, possibly not a good comparison to make. She might. "You can get used to anything, after a while. The way standard-issue rat bars chew like old boots. The way soldier pills taste. Killing people." Losing people. Even, perhaps, confusing women who sniffed his hair instead of ripping out his throat.

"It still smells. Reeks like a bi--uh, a lot, in fact." At least she couldn't see his grimace as he thought better of his word choice. "I just don't mind it as much."

And that was wonderfully reassuring. He scowled at an inoffending tree. "Kakashi managed it. I think he manages a lot by sheer force of will and bitchiness, though." Damn, and he'd been trying to be careful about that word...

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 05:58 am UTC (link)
You could get used to almost anything. A shudder worked its way down her spine as she remembered her mother, catatonic after the last battle, animal familiar gone. Tsume looked out over Ryouma's shoulder and growled, "Where'd that mutt go?"

Her eyes kept scanning as she thought about what Ryouma had said. A wry smile graced the corners of her mouth. "Maybe it's just my feminine sensibilities," she drawled. Wearily, she looked up, exhausted from fighting with her own body. The sickness did seem to have faded, though, and the smell of rot was only faint in the middle of the forest. "So. Great. We just have to desensitize me? Is that what you're saying?" That was a wretched thought.

It also made a lot of sense.

"Put me down," Tsume grumbled, glaring around at the crisp snow broken by trees and bracken. "Where'd that rotten mutt go? KUROMARU!"

He melted from the half-dead undergrowth, looking as miserable as a man-sized predator could look. "I don't wanna be desensitized," he protested, slinking to his belly. "You be desensitized."

"I didn't say we were," Tsume snapped.

"But you will," Kuromaru growled, giving her a betrayed look. "I just bet you will."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 05:59 am UTC (link)
There were some things no intelligent ninja asked another, and one of them involved the ability to stand upright without falling over and throwing up. Ryouma obeyed Tsume's command promptly, but he kept a stabilizing hand on her shoulder after he'd set her on her own feet. Some questions you didn't ask, and some you didn't need to ask. (Of course, there were some that you didn't ask because you were pretty certain you know what the answer was and that you wouldn't like it, and it was easier to get forgiveness than permission. Possibly this was one of those times.)

"It's either that," he told the woman and her dog, "or I work on making the jutsu smell better. Which could take a while. Maybe I could invent a Citrus Smell Technique, or something." In fact, that wasn't a bad idea...

That still left the meantime, though, and he was running out of good ideas.

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 06:01 am UTC (link)
Tsume didn't comment on the hand he left on her shoulder. She really had no room to comment, since her hand snatched at the front of his shirt. "That might be the best idea you've had yet," she said, twisting to glare at her pup.

He was refusing to come any closer.

Tsume took a deep breath, bit back the urge to vomit, and suddenly understood why Taki had thrown up for three days. He'd always had a sensitive stomach. "All right," she decided. "I'm fine." She straightened up and stepped away, making Ryouma either let go or follow her.

So maybe she was a little weavy, still. She wasn't actually falling over, so it didn't really count. "So, we need to..." Her upper lip curled off of her teeth instinctively. "Do your jutsu until it doesn't make me barf out my eyeballs."

"I knew it," Kuromaru whimpered. He slunk toward them, reaching up once he was at Ryouma's side and licking the hand that had touched the mouse, cleaning it.

"Stop that!" Tsume snapped.

Kuromaru's tail drooped, and his ears tucked back along his head, but he kept doing it.

Tsume rubbed her eyes and braced her legs for better balance. "I'll be tick-bit if I'm gonna let this decide my missions," she growled. Then she glared up at Ryouma. "So? How long can you hold that jutsu?" She'd never admit it, but just a tiny part of her hoped he'd say he could only do it once a day.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 06:03 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 06:04 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 06:05 am UTC

[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 06:07 am UTC (link)
It was as lousy an experience as Tsume had expected. She took some small satisfaction in the fact that one glare from Kuromaru kept the smirking morgue attendants at bay.

On the good side, it only took three hours for her nose to give up and her stomach to stop heaving. Whoever said that smell deadened after--was it eight minutes? She could never remember--was an idiot. Or maybe just not an Inuzuka. She had a disturbing notion that it was going to take more than just one day for her to really get over this vomiting problem. She tried not to think about it.

At least Ryouma was entertaining; it really didn't take much to keep him going, and when Tsume wasn't sprawled out on a slab--hey, it was level and not the floor--she could tune back into his conversation and attempt to distract herself. Not that she really paid much attention to what he said. She was busy trying not to heave.

Next time someone pissed her off, she was going to get Ryouma to liquefy a body and then SMEAR it across their walls. The idea made her smirk.

In fact, she thought as they finally--FINALLY--left the morgue and staggered down the street--rather less staggering on Ryouma's part, and more staggering on Tsume's part--that wasn't a bad idea.

"Hey, Coyot," she croaked through a voice hoarse from stomach acid. "What happens if you make something go rotten and I touch it? I'm not gonna rot, am I?"

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 06:13 am UTC (link)
"Don't think so," Ryouma said truthfully. "I mean, if the jutsu was still active--if there was any un-decomposed material it was still working on, and you stuck your hand on top of it without using the jutsu--then sure, it might transfer. S'long as you wait till it done, though, you wouldn't have a problem." He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. "Wait ten minutes, and you've got some pretty decent compost for your garden." The trees always grew tallest where the old battle-grounds had been, after all...

He ran a hand through his hair, and took the opportunity to sniff at his wrist surreptitiously. The soap in the morgue bathrooms worked even better than his orange-scented stuff back at HQ; he couldn't smell anything other than normal, clean human skin. He needed to find out where they got that stuff and buy a few wheel-barrow loads of his own. And then buy stock in the company.

And speaking of buying... "Lunch?" he offered. "Or would you rather, uh, get your stomach settled first?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 06:14 am UTC (link)
Tsume ran her tongue over her teeth and swallowed several times. She could still taste acid. The smart thing to do would be to head to the medic's offices, to get an anti-nausea jutsu and go from there.

The current medic, she'd learned, was a Hyuuga. She really disliked Hyuugas.

"We should get lunch," Tsume said firmly. "And I want a beer." Alcohol might deaden the nerves still insisting she was queasy. It would definitely burn out the vomit taste in her mouth. At least, now that they were out of the morgue, her head was clearing a little. She breathed deeply in an attempt to air out her sinuses and get rid of the lingering rot. Beside her, Kuromaru sneezed several times in quick succession.

"So, your jutsu burns faster the more chakra you add," Tsume said cautiously, testing out her words against what knowledge she'd gleaned from Ryouma. "Is there anything it can't go through?"

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-17 06:18 am UTC (link)
"Lunch," Ryouma agreed, and struck out on a path towards the nearest restaurant. "There's an okonomiyaki place down at the end of the street. That work for you?"

He wasn't entirely sure about their policy for dogs larger than many of their patrons--but an intelligent man didn't question a shinobi in Konoha, and even a stupid man would hesitate to refuse to serve lunch to something with teeth the size of Kuromaru's. Probably Ryouma, with his shredded clothes, would get as many wary glances as the dog. At least he'd gotten rid of the smell!

"The jutsu's called Human Flesh Melt for a reason," he told Tsume as he returned his hands to his pockets. "It'll melt organic material--clothing, skin, flesh, bone--but nothing inorganic. So if you blocked me with your armguard, which's ceramic, it wouldn't do anything. Wood's tough, too. Not impossible, but slower. I use the Nikutai Hakai if I've gotta go through wood, or dispose of an entire body quickly. Same problem there with the inorganics, though." Which was why he usually tried to retrieve dogtags or collect weaponry first. Combing through the mess afterwards really wasn't worth it.

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-17 06:20 am UTC (link)
"Okonomiyaki," Kuromaru yipped happily, and darted ahead, only to circle back a moment later before darting ahead once more.

Tsume snorted at him and ignored his antics as much as possible. "So..." Her mind was still turning over Ryouma's jutsu, picking apart what he was saying. "So if you grazed someone and started the rot, if I touched them in the same place it'd transfer? I mean, assuming they were still moving, which, granted, is a big assumption," she admitted wryly.

She'd seen people with gangrene. It was a disgusting, horrible, intensely painful affliction on a par with third degree burns in terms of pain. She couldn't imagine what it would be like sped up.

"You seriously need to make a Happy Citrus Jutsu or something to balance out your karma," she added dryly, slanting half a smile at Ryouma. Now that they were out of the morgue, and her stomach was settling, her sense of humor had begun to return.

"Okonomiyakiiiiii!" Kuromaro howled, and bounced down the last block to dive into the storefront. People screamed. A girl in a dress leaped out the window.

"That mange-covered mutt," Tsume growled, though her eyes twinkled. "C'mon. We need to get in there before they either try to drive him out, or he orders the whole menu."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-17 06:21 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-17 06:24 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-24 06:23 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-24 07:16 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-24 07:23 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-24 08:22 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-24 08:59 am UTC

[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-24 09:25 am UTC (link)
Kuromaru looked at Ryouma like he was just a few bandages short of a kit, then shook his head and stood. "I'm gonna go see what's taking so long." He turned and trotted toward the back.

"Kuromaru--don't--" Tsume started, but the canine was already gone. She winced, but there were no sounds of panic. The fear-smell rose, but hey, that built character. She sighed, took another sip of beer--it was beginning to numb her stomach--and eyed Ryouma and his vibrant grin. She glanced around the little place, then tipped her bottle toward an old lady in one corner, entirely too crotchety to be chased off by a mutt and a couple of bloody ninja. "She's probably available. You could concentrate your efforts on her." Tsume grinned.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-24 09:27 am UTC (link)
He dismissed the suggestion with a glance and a sniff. "No challenge at all. I could have her eating out of my palm in five minutes." Or beating him round the head with her cane, which was equally likely. Some old ladies liked handsome and charming young men. Some--generally the retired kunoichi--were both more paranoid and less susceptible to flattery. Ryouma had tried to cozen a few in his days on the streets, and he'd found that old ladies with faded kimono and knobbly canes were more protective of their life's savings than any banker with half a dozen ninja standing guard. If a ragged boy with a thin face and hungry eyes couldn't eke out any sympathy, a ragged shinobi with a winning smile and a glib tongue probably wouldn't do much better.

"Also," he added, idly beginning to pit the salt and pepper shakers against each other in a fierce battle to the first spill, "while I appreciate older women, I do set a limit where the lady in question could be my grandmother. Especially when I don't know who at least one of my grandmothers was. There's all sorts of nastiness waiting to happen there." He considered this for a moment, slew the pepper shaker in a savage sneak attack, and concluded, "It'd make a great episode in a soap opera."

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[info]fallen_tsume
2008-02-24 09:28 am UTC (link)
Tsume grinned, catching the pepper shaker as it tumbled toward the edge. "We'll have to write it up and send it in. I hear it pays better than ninja work, anyway." She flicked the pepper shaker back at its paler twin, listening to glass clink as they hit, then formed a square from the thumb and forefinger of each hand, bringing them up to frame Ryouma's face. "Strike a pose for me. We'll see if you get to make a career change to soap-star." She grinned, eyes twinkling.

The doors to the kitchen opened, and two men came out bearing trays laden with food, Kuromaru frolicking around their feet--as much as something that large could frolic.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2008-02-24 09:32 am UTC (link)
"You don't get to kill people in soaps, though," Ryouma said mournfully. "Or at least, they don't stay dead. Man, can you imagine how annoying that would be?"

Really hot undead sex aside, if dead people came back to life with the frequency they did in films, the world's ninja would have a real problem. Shinobi economics--not to mention shinobi fighting--operated under the assumption that what they'd killed stayed dead. At least Ryouma's unique jutsu would prevent any undead bodies from walking around. Most other ninja, who killed with katana or kunai, would have a bit more trouble.

He decided not to elaborate on his theories of Zombie Battle Tactics, though, in favor of leaning back and grinning widely at the men who--with frequent nervous glances at the enormous dog cavorting around them--set out large bowls of batter and toppings, turned on the hot-plate at the center of the table, distributed utensils and plates, and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

"Excellent," Ryouma said, ladling out a circle of batter and beginning to assemble green onions, pork, shrimp, and cheese on top. "Do you cook for Kuromaru, or does he do it himself?"

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(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-24 09:42 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-24 09:44 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-24 09:51 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-27 11:16 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-28 03:41 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-28 03:43 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-28 04:06 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-28 04:09 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_tsume, 2008-02-28 04:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]fallen_ryouma, 2008-02-28 04:28 am UTC

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