| [Jan. 15th, 2017|07:32 pm] |
Kakashi bit back a half-dozen cruel responses. Ryouma had gotten what he wanted: Fukuda dead. Plus a dozen Kiri-ninja on top.
Happy slaughter, Tousaki.
But the look on Ryouma’s face wasn’t the pride of a strike well-executed, or the satisfaction of a problem resolved. He hadn't gotten vengeance, Kakashi realized slowly; his great stupid self had gotten attached.
Which still left Fukuda dead, Ryouma guilty, and Genma worse. Even with rot and sewer and death on the air, Kakashi could smell the lieutenant’s ratcheting stress.
And Fukuda dead.
He hadn’t liked her. She’d nearly killed him. She’d stopped a wolf eel from tearing his throat out. She’d given them Kirigakure’s heart on a plate — but only after they’d come for her family.
Kakashi breathed out once through his nose, slowly, and said, “We need to go. They’re sending reinforcements.”
“We heard,” Ryouma said. He cast a distracted look down, slapped a hand to his back pocket, and finally located a half-crushed radio collar hooked to his belt. It was splattered with unnamable filth. Kakashi stole it from Ryouma’s unsteady fingers and held it near his ear.
“——respond——are——there? Respond——”
The tiny speaker drowned itself in a scramble of static. Kakashi shook it, which did nothing. On the principle that Kiri-tech was probably similar to Konoha-tech, he shook it again and whacked it against the side of his leg.
The voice snapped into clarity. “——nemy genjutsu confirmed at base. Backup delayed. Confirm you are holding. Repeat, confirm——”
The signal futzed out again.
“Or not,” Kakashi said. He threw the radio back to Ryouma. “We should leave anyway.”
Kimiko flat-out refused to be separated from Sango, so for the next leg Raidou carried them both. Genma and Ryouma flanked him, while Kakashi hung back to cover their trail. They went due East, keeping the pace fast and the conversation nil. Only Sango made an occasional sound, quickly hushed by her mother. Kimiko refused to look at any of them; the back of Raidou’s shirt grew quickly damp.
Genma kept his eyes on the horizon. Ryouma focused on the ground.
The radio hissed and spat, providing static-y snapshots of a village in chaos. Team Thirteen’s answer to Intel’s need for a diversion was a daisy chain of explosions with the occasional multi-layered genjutsu thrown in for interest. Ginta, Kakashi suspected, was having fun. But most importantly, there was no mention of Kurenai, Satomi, or Kuroda being discovered.
Gradually, the sodden swampland yielded to tough, scrubby coastal grasses. Salt gave the morning air a briney sting. The radio, increasingly patchy with distance, finally died at the edge of a sheer cliff overlooking a fingernail-shaped beach. The ocean was a fiery sunrise spill stretching to distant, dawn-lit clouds that hid Inokosaka island. It was the smallest island on the chain, mostly uninhabited and lurking in Aoshima's shadow. The ship was due to collect them at Satsujin-Sha Cove, on the farthest side, in eighteen hours.
Kakashi looked at the water and thought, Sharks.
And an infant. And no Fukuda to guide them.
For the briefest of moments, the waves blurred. Kakashi rubbed his uncovered eye. They were going on forty-eight hours without sleep. He could feel the weight starting to drag at his bones.
“Keep moving,” Raidou said, voice a low rumble. He levered himself over the edge of the cliff and began to walk down its face. Genma and Ryouma followed, muted chakra glimmering with the unnatural crackle of soldier pills.
Maybe they could sleep on the other side, while they waited for Thirteen and Intel to catch up.
Kakashi brushed a scuff from Genma’s boot away, unbent some grass Ryouma had stepped through, and slid down to join the rest of his team.
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