| [Mar. 5th, 2014|02:30 am] |
"I'm never telling you anything again!" Ryouma yelled after her.
Her head was under water; she didn't hear. Genma's brows were rising, though, under his dripping hair. Ryouma gritted his teeth, reversed the chakra flow at the soles of his feet, and dropped into the water.
It was still bitterly cold, and his muscles had chilled while he talked with Katsuko. There'd better be hot coffee in those bags the lieutenant's bunshin was holding. Better yet, hot coffee and towels. He'd dry off, get a drink, get the apology over with, and…
Hope no one told the captain.
Damnit, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut around any of his team?
The opposite bank loomed up ahead of him, slippery mud rising up to rough grass and a few thirsty wildflowers. He tucked into the turn and angled back upstream. Seventy meters to the opposite bank, though it felt like more against the current. Two and a half laps to go…
A lean body flickered past, only half-seen in the murky brown water. It could be any of the other three, but Katsuko'd be heading east, the same way he was, and even underwater Kakashi's hair was startlingly light. Genma, then, who was either crazy enough to enjoy swimming in snowmelt, or just wanted to show his troops that he wouldn't order them to do anything he wouldn't do himself.
Probably both, Ryouma decided, and kicked off a root to launch himself back across the river again.
Two laps later, he pulled himself up onto the grass on the far back and lay there panting. The sun was still hiding behind clouds, and there was a cold wind coming off the river, but at least the grass wasn't as cold as the water. Kakashi was there already, sitting up with his back to a tree and a small sports towel draped over his wet head. Genma's bunshin bent to offer Ryouma another towel and a faintly sympathetic smile.
"Thanks," he croaked. He pushed himself up, scrubbed the towel over his hair, and then rubbed his torso down briskly enough to bring the blood to the skin. By the time he was half-dry and beginning to remember warmth, Katsuko had made her lazy way to the bank and pulled herself up. Genma was still making his way back across the river with a slow, labored stroke. The healing wound in his belly must be pulling at him.
Katsuko had immediately begun pestering the bunshin for cans of hot tea, in total disregard of the towel it was attempting to give her. Kakashi pushed his own towel off his head, down to his shoulders, and asked Ryouma, "What did you want to say?"
It'd be stupid to haul him off in private for an apology that would probably just be greeted with a flat stare. Katsuko knew the broad strokes, anyway, and Genma — and by extension, Genma's clone — knew the details. Ryouma chewed the inside of his cheek anyway.
Genma was approaching the bank, almost within earshot. Katsuko had her tea and was attempting to pry it open with her short fingernails, while the bunshin watched in amusement. They were both distracted for the moment, or at least pretending to be. And the fastest blow always hurt the least.
He said, "I'm sorry about the other night. I didn't think you'd be upset, but you were, and I shouldn't've even joked about it after you turned me down at the Trials anyway. I was a dick." Was that enough? Genma'd reached the bank, a little downstream, and Katsuko had her tea open. It'd have to be. He dropped the towel over his damp hair again and started rubbing.
Kakashi said nothing.
Well, Ryouma hadn't expected him to accept the apology with a weepy poem of gratitude, but — still. He glanced under the edge of his towel. Kakashi was staring at him after all, but it wasn't the flat, unfriendly glare Ryouma'd half-expected. The grey eye was wide with surprise, and the wet mask clung to the dimple of a half-open mouth. The biting tongue seemed, for once, to have lost its words.
Ryouma dropped his towel around his neck. "I—" |
|