| [Nov. 29th, 2016|10:22 pm] |
The last blanket slipped off. He saw Kasumi watching, almost smiling, and Abe a little less pale. Ginta was watching them, too.
Anger died. He clutched an armful of warm, ozone-scented blanket, and thought, That could have been Kakashi. Or the captain. Or Genma. Or me.
Eizo was there and then he was gone, and Ryouma didn't think he'd ever exchanged more than a few words with the man. Maybe a brief conversation or two on the run from Konoha to Ofunato Port, or on the junk, but he'd be hard-pressed to remember more than a rumbling voice and a muscular back. He wasn't even sure he knew Eizo's full name.
To Team Thirteen, though, he'd been their veteran — Abe and Kasumi's senpai, Ginta and Usagi's reliable left hand. Like Katsuko, before she left.
They didn't even have his dogtags to bring back.
He pushed two of the blankets towards Genma, and held up the remainder. "Sakamoto-fukuchou. Your team should rest. We'll cover the watches today."
Ginta looked down at him over the blankets. Angular blue eyes narrowed, as if he was searching for the catch. He said slowly, "Unless my rookies want to stand watches to keep their minds occupied…"
Kasumi shook her head. Usagi, coming back with a new pot of curry, snorted. She grabbed a couple of blanket off the top of Ryouma's pile as she passed.
"If your captain and mine agree," Ginta said wryly, "we won't turn you down."
Raidou cocked his head at Usagi, inquiring. She smiled, small and tight, but with a lick of irrepressible fire. "If your rookie wants to play sheepdog, I'm not arguing." She dropped a blanket on Kasumi's lap, and settled down between her rookies with her curry pot. "Get some rest, kids."
Genma rubbed his eye, and glanced at Raidou. "Have you got this? I can take last watch if you need me."
"Kakashi and I'll do it," Ryouma said, quickly. "You sleep too, lieutenant. We won't be here long enough for four full watches, anyway."
Raidou stared at him now, too. At last he nodded. "Eat first."
"Taichou." Ryouma bent his head, shoveling curry-soaked rice in. The curry was lukewarm, the rice mushy, but it was food, and he was alive to eat it.
He looked up and caught sight of Fukuda, braced by the two Intel agents. She had a foil pouch in her lap and a spoon in her hand, too, but her eyes rested on the dark-iron stains on the floor.
They'd be in Kirigakure by midnight. |
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