Ryouma had spent a good chunk of the last three weeks trying to figure out an assault plan, and he still hadn't hit on an approach he thought he'd survive. Half the principle behind being a ninja was taking the enemy unawares, Hitomi-sensei said, but after weeks of cautious feinting, he was pretty sure subterfuge would never get him anywhere. Launching a direct assault was nothing short of suicidal, but it was also probably the only way he'd ever get his opponent to sit up and take notice.

He was vaguely aware that thinking of the only woman he'd ever loved as an "opponent" probably wasn't the best way to go about winning her heart. Then again, Hyuuga Hitomi-sensei wasn't exactly an ordinary woman.

She was, at the moment, a pissed-off kunoichi. "Next time I have leave in Konoha," she snapped, folding up a bit of oiled cloth and shoving it back in her jounin vest, "I swear I'll jyuuken the spleen out of whoever drew this map. How do you misplace an entire river?"

"Pretty easily, with a Water jutsu," Ryouma pointed out. "You could be reading the map wrong, too. Lemme see."

Hitomi drew back, white eyes narrowing coldly. She looked like some avenging goddess, long black hair tangling in the rising wind, sculpted face made even more elegant by angry scorn, slim arms folded across her chest. One manicured fingernail ticked warningly against her biceps. "If you think," she said slowly, "that I'd let even one of your filthy fingers touch my maps, you're even more of an idiot brat than I thought. Which is truly impressive. What kind of water jutsu could reroute a river?"

"You're cheating," Ryouma protested. "No fair turning an argument into a test. C'mon, I washed my hands six times already, just let me look at the map--"

He cut off abruptly as Hitomi-sensei lifted her head. Throbbing veins leapt out under the skin, tracing an intricate pathway from eyesocket to temple, and the milky iris of each eye grew faintly visible. Ryouma's hand edged down for a kunai.

"It's not an enemy," Hitomi said calmly. "Comb your hair, brat."

Ryouma stared at her. "What?"

"Your funeral, then," Hitomi said, with a shrug. She raised her voice. "Good to see you, Namikaze-san."

"Nami--" Ryouma's eyes fled frantically around them, but as usual, whatever Hitomi saw was still invisible to him. He raked at his disheveled hair with his fingers, anyway. "The Yellow Flash? He's here?"