| [Jul. 5th, 2008|04:58 pm] |
Only a boy who'd spent the last year and a half hounding Hitomi's footsteps would have noticed the very slight flush that tinged her wind-reddened cheeks, or the slight edge to the speed with which she released her Byakugan. Ryouma wasn't really sure he could blame her, though. He was pretty certain he was blushing.
Namikaze Minato, Konoha's Yellow Flash--the war-hero everyone said was already being groomed as the next Hokage--knew his name. Had heard good things about him. (Who from? Hitomi wouldn't have complimented him to save her life.) Had offered to shake his hand.
Well, okay, the kid he was hauling over one shoulder had kind of prevented that, but the thought totally counted.
Hitomi swatted him on the back of the head. "Manners, brat."
"Uh...honored in the acquaintance, sir," Ryouma managed. He hissed to his sensei, "Where're yours?"
She thwacked him again. "I apologize for the brat. I think they gave him to me in hopes I'd beat some decorum into him, but it's been slow going. Though it looks like you've had little better luck." |
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