| [Feb. 24th, 2008|05:03 am] |
"When I get nailed on a mission because some asshole Kumo genin heard the shadows ringing, you'll know it was your fault," Genma said, and a flicker of a hint of a smile ghosted across his weary face. His eyes locked with Raidou's. Smallish, dark brown, deeply penetrating eyes in a scarred face on which Genma had long since stopped seeing the scars. He could see in Raidou's eyes a perfect mirror of his own thoughts: Thank fucking gods you're alright. Do you have any idea how frantic I've been about you? How the hell did we lose five hours? Are you really going to be alright now? You fucking well better be, or I will come to the afterlife and kick your sorry ass.
Not a word passed. The machines beeped, a medic checked an IV, a couple more quietly shifted to positions where they could more easily asses whether this new silence from the formerly agitated pair boded well or ill.
Genma locked eyes with Raidou, thought about that odd night--was it just the previous night?--spent sleeping side by side in nothing but underwear and bandages, with hands clasped. Had that really happened? Had he really let Raidou not just touch, but hold his hand? And he laughed. A quiet laugh, a weak laugh, hoarse and whispery, but with something a little like mirth, a little like bemused astonishment, and a lot like relief. |
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