| [Dec. 31st, 2016|10:04 pm] |
Blue sparks crackled off Kakashi’s fingertips and trailed through the water like tiny pilot lights, a tingly after-effect of channeling so much voltage. More glimmered in Ginta’s hair, white against gold. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked with another lightning user.
Ginta kicked over a dead leech and whistled. “Looks like this is the one Satomi barbecued. It’s half cooked.”
Unfortunate that it had to be this man.
Kakashi collected a brown bullnose, adding it to his string of mosquito-eaters, dartfish, and green-gilled bowfin. Judging that sufficient, he stepped carefully around Kasumi and Satomi — really, there were so many people on this mission to dislike — and avoided Kuroda on his way back to Team Six.
Ryouma was putting the final touches on a neat bandage, while Abe scrutinized his work and deemed it acceptable. This faint praise had Ryouma rocking back on his heels with a quick grin, before he set to tidying up medical detritus. Abe shoved himself upright and took a couple testing steps; his injured leg held under him, so Kakashi trusted he wasn’t mortally crippled.
Raidou, meanwhile, was watching Genma like a hawk, while Genma waved away his concerns. Kakashi crouched nearby, obscurely soothed by their familiar fussing and Ryouma’s transparent satisfaction. When there was a moment to break in, he said, “We should get moving soon, before the bodies attract more predators.”
Genma double-checked his kit and liberated a handful of senbon to hide inside his sleeves. “I’m ready.” He swept a look over Kakashi. “How’d the lightning feel?”
Valid question, since the last lightning bolt had fried Kakashi’s chakra circuits raw.
Kakashi smiled, letting it curve his visible eye. His veins still hummed with the afterglow of immense energy, like champagne bubbles. “Electric.”
A little flicker of tension relaxed in Genma’s expression, replaced by warmth. “That felt like a big chakra discharge. No strain at all?”
“Nope.” Kakashi raised a hand, showing off the easy glitter of chakra sparks along the edges of his fingernails. “Everything working like it should.”
Genma smiled, mud cracking on his cheeks. “Good thinking, working with Sakamoto like that.”
Kakashi’s glow dimmed a little — technically, Ginta had just invited himself, and also it was Ginta — but revived when Ryouma straightened up and bumped a fist lightly against his shoulder. “You saved us all from death by giant leeches,” Ryouma said. And then, as the group collected themselves at Usagi’s urging and headed out at Kuroda’s command, added, “That’s gotta be at least a hundred points for your ledger.”
“This is why you’re not allowed to command the points system,” Kakashi said, marking where Fukuda was — still at Satomi’s elbow. “I get fifteen. You get one for bandage origami.”
Ryouma’s brow creased. “Were there only fifteen leeches?”
“No,” Kakashi said, and struggled for a moment on how to explain his yardstick system for success (occasional) and failure (common), that was half gut-feeling, half esoteric rules, and one hundred percent created before he'd turned ten. He settled on, “You lose a point for needing a translation.” |
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