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Dangerous Game [Jul. 6th, 2013|11:39 pm]
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[tousaki_ryouma]
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[User Picture]From: [info]hatake_kakashi
2013-07-07 06:22 am (UTC)

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“You moved,” Takeshi accused.

“You cut me,” Ryouma threw back. He curled his index finger and licked the thin cut, hissed, and sucked it to stem the bleeding. Then held out his hand. “Your turn.”

Reluctantly, Takeshi handed over the kunai and spread his hand on the floor. Abe and the other one, Kaito, held their game to watch, fascinated.

Ryouma weighed the kunai judgingly—it looked well-balanced to Kakashi, except for maybe a slight tilt towards the hilt—and flicked it hard between Takeshi’s index and middle fingers. It slammed into the wood, quivering, the razor edge barely kissing skin.

“You do know I’m not left-handed, right?” Ryouma said, like an afterthought.

“Honestly? More concerned about you being an asshole,” Takeshi said. “If you chop anything off, I’m going to use your testicles for a skin hat.”

“Small hat,” Kaito observed, with a grin.

“Didn’t think you’d been lookin’,” Ryouma said sweetly. “Bet there’s a bathroom around here somewhere if you want a closer acquaintance.”

“Suck it, Tousaki,” said Kaito, unruffled.

A grin slashed across Ryouma’s mouth. “I can do that, too—” he began.

“Oh my god,” Takeshi broke in. “I’m sorry I mentioned the parts you think with. Just stab me before I die of boredom already.”

“Since you ask so nicely.” Ryouma yanked the kunai from the floor and drove it back down, a sharp steel lick between Takeshi’s fingers, then up again. There was no slow start here; Ryouma set at a blistering pace and got faster, blurring a web of liquid light between Takeshi’s frozen fingers.

Idly, Kakashi wondered how old that oak hardwood was. Probably antique.

If Ryouma was right-handed, he was nearly ambidextrous with a blade. The pattern changed once, then again, moving so fast Kakashi could almost see images in the steely blur. Like Takeshi, Ryouma wasn’t looking at his hand; his steady gaze was fixed on his volunteer-victim.

After a minute, Takeshi said, “Um.”

Ryouma’s teeth flashed. He flicked the kunai up and let it go. It spun six times in tight, blurring turns and slammed down between Takeshi’s middle and ring finger, like a bannerless flagpole.

“Sorry about the hat,” he said.

Kaito whistled between his teeth. “Shit, Tousaki.”

Takeshi pulled the kunai free and inspected his fingers—looking for a painless papercut, Kakashi suspected. When he found nothing, he tossed the kunai back to Ryouma like a prize. “Not bad,” he said.

The kunai twirled a silver pinwheel before Ryouma shoved it into his holster, ducking his head with modesty that even Kakashi recognized as fake. “I’ll collect from you later,” he said. He sucked his bleeding finger again, and scrambled back into his abandoned chair.

Kakashi regarded him curiously. “You’re like a giant, weird labrador,” he decided.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ryouma said. “What’s a labrador?”

“Breed of dog in Water Country. Overly friendly, not much between the ears,” Kakashi said. “Why risk your fingers?”

One broad shoulder shrugged. “Ever do something you probably shouldn’t just ‘cause you can?”

“No,” said Kakashi.

On his blind side, the door clicked. He turned to see a white-faced redhead stumble through. She caught sight of the beginning game between Abe and Kaito, and dropped down next to them like her knees didn’t quite want to hold her. “My turn next,” she said.

Three candidates left.