| [Sep. 7th, 2013|02:17 am] |
“Itadakimasu,” Kakashi murmured. “Tousaki was the candidate I saved.”
Her chopsticks paused. “Oh?” She considered for a moment, then said, “Was he targeted, or was he in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” Kakashi said quietly. The Cellar was private and uncrowded, and the open kitchen was noisy, but still. At least with Rin’s back to the room, and his mask, no one could lip-read their conversation. “Whoever primed Akiyama and set him off wanted my eye, but when he couldn’t catch me, he went for Tousaki’s hands as a consolation prize. Are you familiar with Tousaki’s jutsu?”
“No,” she said. “Is it a bloodline limit?”
“Not that he’s said. I hope not, because I want it,” Kakashi said. “He’s the face-melter. Little older than us, made some waves in the war.”
“The rot ninja?” she said, eyebrows flicking up in surprise. “Huh. You didn’t copy it already in Trials?”
Kakashi glanced down, studying his chopsticks intensely.
“That’s your guilty face,” she said. “What’d you do?”
“What? Nothing,” Kakashi said, stung. “He punched me first.”
Rin’s bark of laughter got an answering clatter from the kitchen, as a startled chef dropped something. “What?”
“I might have used the Sharingan during the first Trial,” Kakashi said. “There was this section on jutsu demonstrations, and some of them were actually pretty good. But he got a little pissy about it, and doesn’t know how to use words.”
“So he punched you,” Rin said, delicately selecting a piece of the red snapper. “Did you use your words?”
Kakashi thought back. “I’m ignoring your tone, because I actually did, even when he called me an asshole. I was practically polite. And I didn’t copy his jutsu.” He picked up a neat parcel of spinach, because Rin was a bear for vegetable eating. “And I saved his life later, so I win on all counts.” |
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