Ryuichi wasn't having a good day. Oh sure, it had started out well enough, with the discovery that though he'd smoked a great deal of cigarettes the night before, he wasn't dead of something unpleasant like sensei had predicted, and there was even a bit left over for today. Then there had been a distinct lack of people in the training room as well, which had left the place to the chuunin to do as he liked (and no competition for the dummies!). What he hadn't counted on was the captain from his latest mission backing him into a corner with an angry scowl and start screeching at him.

Yes, he hadn't gone to the medic. No, the damn cut wasn't fatal; it was a fucking cut, and could the man calm down enough to recognize the fact? Sadly, it hadn't happened. No, the captain had given him a lecture that would have done one of the Intel spooks proud, and hadn't let up until salvation in the form of a chuunin carrying what had appeared to be a pile of reports had appeared. Ryuichi had chosen to make his escape then, bolting shamelessly away from the training room, and ignoring his senpai's angry shouts.

In hindsight, not the smartest move. Far from it actually. It would have been better to just shut up and stand through it, but though Ryuichi was a great many things, he was by no means a tactical genius.

So he had run for it. Out of HQ, because he was a rookie, and didn't know his way around that well, and the captain would, once he managed to get away from the girl with the reports. Ryuichi didn't want to be cornered again, since it would end badly (oh yes, very, very badly), and he imagined that the man had been completely serious in his threat to drag him down to the medic himself. By the scruff of his armor (did that even make sense? Did ANBU armor have a scruff?), no matter how much kicking and protesting there happened to be.

It was just a fucking CUT! Sure, on his wrist, and it was kinda sorta deep, but no stitches, no infection, and no huge amount of blood-loss. Nothing really serious. Honestly, the captain was totally overreacting. Ryuichi would have understood if the injury had been in any way life-threatening, but it hadn't been. Therefore nothing was wrong, and there was no need for screaming.

Still, he was running (not full out, but not slowly either), and into the training fields. He had weapons with him (a set of dual katana and a hatchet, plus the other obvious projectiles), and therefore a legitimate excuse for being there, should anyone bother to ask. It was a nice day, all things considered. Good and bright; not too many shadows for someone (like an angry squadron commander) to hide in and sneak up on you. The snow was bright, but not blindingly so. The cold was bearable in the ANBU armor. It kept him warm.

Really, he should have been paying more attention. But he wasn't, and Ryuichi barely had time to blink and curse before he was tripping over the wire he hadn't seen until there wasn't anything that could be done about it, and snapped up into the air like the idiot he was.

"Goddamnit!"

This was just great.

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Kotetsu had nearly, just nearly finished with the trap, then it snapped right out of his hands, the trigger he was about to put on to to make it non-dangerous - it was a little weight, positioned correctly would have just fallen onto the rope-wire nexus and rendered it inert, though still alerting him - and lost in the fucking snow, flipped out of his sight and buried who knew where and he was more than pissed. He wasn't going to be able to find the damn thing till Spring.


"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, as he kicked at the taut rope. He couldn't do anything until he climbed up the tree and released the asshole, but the weight! He liked the weight, dammit! It was his first one! He'd made it himself!

Fuck head!

"blundering into people's training grounds and fucking up all my traps!" He kicked at the tree, glaring up at the cursing man. It was a man, he supposed, only there was hair all over the place, but no woman he knew cursed worse than himself. So it was a man, and an asshole. He should probably let him land on his head.

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Ryuichi swore foully before even attempting to answer. This day just got better and better, didn't it? Which god had he pissed off, and for doing what, exactly? He really, really wanted to know.

Normally he would have done something along the lines of apologizing, but he normally wasn't in such a bad mood. Normally Ryuichi wouldn't even consider throwing something so deadly as his hatchet at anyone, let alone a fellow Konoha shinobi (and ANBU on top of it, judging from the armor that mirrored his own), but of course, this wasn't normal for him. Even though he did some pretty crazy shit on a very regular basis.

Cursing again, though not quite as loudly as before, he used one hand (his right one, and the one without the bandage on the wrist) to jerk the hatchet loose from his belt, and the other one to pull on of the katana free from the sheath on his back. It was a bit difficult, and hurt like a bitch to do both at the same time, but it happened, and that was all that really mattered. His hand cocked back, and the weapon went sailing in the direction of a head of dark and spiky hair. At the moment, Ryuichi didn't give a shit if it hit home or not (though that wasn't exactly his intention; more like to distract the angry shinobi long enough to get himself free).

Getting back to business. The rope secured to his ankle was slashed, and so was his pant-leg. Fuck. And this was one of his clean pairs too. Of course, such thoughts were promptly banished as the forces of gravity went to work, and suddenly the ground was rising up to meet him, and Ryuichi thought it looked very solid indeed. Snow didn't cushion much.

He tucked into a roll, and somehow managed not to stab himself with the katana, nor break any of his ribs in the process, though there was quite a bit of white fluff in his hair. Maybe things were looking up slightly? Then Ryuichi realized his hair was defying it's ponytail, and then a moment later that his bow was gone. Damn it. He'd never find it in this weather; exact same color as the ground. Fuck. Was this karma? What had he done to deserve this morning?

He conveniently forgot the angry captain at that thought.

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One moment Kotetsu was glaring up at the man, the next there was a hatchet, taking up the field of vision.


Shit!


Kotetsu leaped away, nearly crashing into one of his other traps as he tried to drag to a stop. The hatchet dropped down with a lot of force, blade sinking deep into the fairly packed soil, the layer of thin snow barely stopping it and Kotetsu cursed again. Added some variety to the man's ancestor. What the hell, honestly? The ass now decided that attacking him was a good idea?


Man was spoiling for a good asskicking.


The hatchet was now joined by man-on-the-ground, all loose hair, making him look like a vampire fresh out of the stories, skin made pale by the shadows of the trees and dark hair in contrast.


And he was flashing a katana. And the remnants of Kotetsu's trap dribbled down to pool like a gutted snake.


Seeing red did not describe what Kotetsu was feeling right now.


Live blade was just asking for another live blade. Possibly to show this asshole his place. Kotetsu let loose a normal kunai while yanking his own giant kunai free from his back holster.

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Ryuichi managed to bounce up into something that slightly resembled a fighting stance before he heard the distinctive whistle that screamed "kunai coming your way!" before one did, and snap the katana up fast enough to shove it away, and keep the blade from making his face into a far more interesting shape. He really didn't feel much like bleeding at the moment, but from the way the shinobi was glaring at him, and pulling out what had to be the largest kunai he had ever seen, it was probably going to happen. Well, that was life, and though Ryuichi usually loved his, at the moment he was thinking that it could be better.

He pulled the second sword free, and twirled it quickly, settling into a decent stance. Ryuichi, despite himself, wasn't really in the mood to fight, and was hoping this little disagreement (or whatever the hell it was) would resolve itself quickly enough. Fighting would keep him in one place for a period of time that was too long for his liking. The captain would likely track him down. No sense in making the job easier for the man, was there?

Of course, if he had just sucked it up and been smart about it, then this wouldn't be happening. It was, however, and dwelling on the fact would do nothing to change it.

If Ryuichi ended the fight quickly, then he could continue running until he found a really good hiding place (and somewhere to ditch the armor; any shinobi worth their salt in Konoha would identify him as ANBU from a mile off). So he began moving, ready for a (rather vicious, if the other guy's face, which was suggesting that Ryuichi should die in a most painful fashion, was any indication) spar. Or fight. Violent disagreement. Or whatever it was.

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Kotetsu didn't wait for the guy to do anything. The guy had his hair all in his face, making it hard to read his eyes and intent.


Didn't matter. Kotetsu didn't care.


Kotetsu wasn't a normally vicious person, but honestly attacking with a hatchet was just so out of line. He had no intention of killing the guy, but maybe hurting him a little.


He launched himself at the other man, moving much faster than his weapon warranted, letting the weight of his kunai bat the guy's katana aside as he delivered a rather harsh kick to the hip.

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Despite what a great many of his mission commanders over the years (defiantly before ANBU, since he hadn't been in that long) had claimed, Arai Ryuichi wasn't suicidal. That was just stupid. Purposefully killing oneself was entirely pointless. He had a good reason for fighting the way he did. By taking chop-shots, and just about all other blows that wouldn't prove to be fatal in the long run, he put opponents off guard. He confused them, and confused opponents tended to die a hell of a lot easier than the ones who were in complete control of the situation.

So when the guy with spiky hair aimed a kick at his hip, Ryuichi didn't make even the slightest attempt to dodge, and barely grimaced as the blow knocked him to the side. He didn't fall; it wasn't quite that powerful, but he did twist around, and swing the other katana at the guy's head. The blow was strong, and just to make sure, the second blade, the one which had been shoved away, came whizzing by in a follow-up strike. He didn't think his opponent would expect it coming like that.

All the while, Ryuichi smiled. He usually did once the blades started dancing.

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That smile creeped Kotetsu out. Seriously. People did not go smiling at people while their hips nearly got broken.


Honest.

Maybe the guy was a zombie or something.

Then the guy tried to take Kotetsu's head off with two katana, and Kotetsu let the thought of creepy smiling zombie go out of his head.

Block, duck, and way quicker than most people are with the kunai, and he's half way up a tree, leaping off backward to kick the Zombie's head while he was wondering where Kotetsu was.

If at the same time he'd zapped a chakra-wire trap into activation, well.

Unlucky zombie-man, huh?

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The guy (Ryuichi was starting to think maybe jounin, with that speed) was smart enough to avoid getting his head removed. Well, Ryuichi couldn't say he'd been expecting that; he had been ready to shift his grip and slap the flat of the blades down, if it came to that, but it didn't, and as such, his reaction was slower than it needed to be. Sometimes he was considerate to his opponent in a spar; more often not. This was one of those rare times, and it was costing him.

A parry and quick maneuver later, and then Ryuichi's opponent was gone from sight. In a rare moment when his sense of self-preservation was working over-time, he ducked down into a low stance, and felt the kick whiz over his head, missing his ear by a bare inch.

That was close.

Sadly, the chakra-wires, though Ryuichi felt them coming, and probably could have at least TRIED to dodge, caught him straight in the stomach, and sent him flying. He tired to tuck into a roll, but met with a tree before the action could be completed. There was a moment when nothing hurt.

Then he tried to curse as his left wrist (the bad one, damnit), was slammed into the tree, and his ribs gave some very vocal protest. Ryuichi found he couldn't breath. Which was bad. He really hoped nothing was broken. Captain would have his hide.

Since speech required air, he settled for glaring at the spiky-haired guy, ignoring the pain in his wrist. He'd dropped the katana that had been held in it. It hit the ground with a soft thump. No clanging here, on such a soft surface. The snow absorbed whatever dramatic sound it might have made. It was also starting to get cold. Fuck.

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The guy was out for the count. All fight knocked out of him, Kotetsu spun upright, and slammed his kunai into the tree, just by Zombie-man's head, ignoring the light smattering of white falling from the tree-branches.

Okay, showy, stupid thing to do, and Moriki was going to get pissed at him if he'd damaged the metal enough to need repair, but hey, Zombie-face had lost him his trigger! Serve him right.

Maybe he'd even make the guy pay for the damages or something.

"Serve you right, Zombie-head," Kotetsu said, letting a half-evil grin show on his face. "Now you're all dead against the tree, you can pay up what you owe me. You lost me my trigger, and you get to pay repairs to my kunai, if you damaged it."


Up close, Zombie-guy didn't look that old. About Kotetsu's age, really, even though he was wearing ANBU armour and all that. A new rookie too? Or was he a genius like Uchiha Itachi was?

Nah, not likely. He'd beat him hollow. Couldn't be that good. Good, but not that good. Though, he'd taken the hits like it hadn't hurt at all, just grunts. And... blood. Kotetsu thought he smelled blood.

He frowned. Not good.

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Ryuichi coughed in response. Fucking ribs. He tried taking a shaky breath, and coughed again, harder. It hurt, and the cold air wasn't helping much. Hurt his throat. He was pleased to see nothing came up that shouldn't, and though his breaths were slightly wheezy, it didn't feel like anything was broken (or shattered, which would have been fucking bad on a level that took some imagination to fully understand). Good. He'd be able to fight again in a minute.

He finished coughing, glared, and judged the distance. Also not good. Unless he got the guy to back off a few feet, then any offensive attacks would be stopped before they could be initiated. Ryuichi didn't like being backed against anything; it made him nervous to be that aware of the fact that he couldn't run. Still, he was confident that any blow given could be received and rolled with.

Of course, that mentality was the reason Ryuichi had been thrown against the tree in the first place. He didn't think about that. Maybe he should have.

One katana had been dropped. Now the other snapped up and swung in a tight arc. Not meant to cut, just to force some distance on them. Give him a little longer to recover.

"Sorry about that," Ryuichi coughed, sounding horse and not the least bit apologetic. "But you fix your own damn kunai."

If it was really such a big deal, then he'd get the guy a new trigger. Someone in his family would have some. But not a new kunai. He wasn't that nice, and his paycheck wasn't that generous. The family didn't deal much with kunai. Well, sometimes, in bulk. But not single blades. Too much trouble for too little profit.

Then he swore, and hissed as his wrist throbbed. "Fuck!" He'd hit it hard, and just his luck, it decided to start reminding him of the fact. This day really sucked. First he got lectured. Then he got stuck in a trap. Then he lost a fight (in a very humiliating manner), and got hurt on top of it all. And there was snow in his hair. Fuck.

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Kotetsu back-pedaled, didn't quite swear at Zombie-man, but the guy was hurt. His trap shouldn't have hurt him, not that much, it was only a hit-the-guy-till-he's-out-of-breath type of trap, and much lowered in power besides. He didn't fool with lethal traps where anyone could blunder, even if this zombie had decided to walk right into it for all that it was out of the way.


"Like hell you're sorry." Guy sounded half-dead, definitely zombie. Kotetsu took to the trees, in case the guy decided to try something, having to leave his kunai behind. Stupid, stupid stupid showing off, but he's got one left, and he can zip in to get it back?

Kotetsu swung through the branches, coiling and curling, moving fast - not as fast as another ninja might go by leaping normally, but unpredictable, dropping to gain momentum and swinging up to gain height.

His traps were all set around the tiny clearing, and the almost crazy way he was moving around - around and in, slow spiral wise - was him checking on them, and getting them set. Non-lethal, but immobilising. Guy was going nowhere till Kotetsu figured out what the hell he was actually doing.

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Ryuichi considered his options. He could run for it. The spiky-haired guy had shown a liking for traps, and was probably setting more now, where Ryuichi couldn't see him, but if he was careful, he could (probably) avoid most of them. Even if one caught him, Ryuichi was sure he could pull off a faster roll, and bounce out of it. He learned from past mistakes. Connecting with the tree had pointed out the fact that he needed to work on his reaction speed. Avoid bruised ribs.

He could also stay and fight for a while longer. It would prove to be interesting, at the very least, and Ryuichi liked sparring. Besides, spiky-hair had an interesting style. Very different from what he usually fought against. It had been a long time since anyone had sent him flying. Wasn't sensei always saying he needed to broaden his horizons? Try new things more often?

Then his wrist throbbed, and Ryuichi, though he refrained from swearing (didn't help to let the opponent know how bad you were hurting), glanced at it quickly.

Fuck. It was starting to bleed through the bandage. That wasn't good at all. Blood-loss would slow him down, even if he worked to ignore it.

He should probably run for it.

The dropped katana was snatched up, glared at, and then slammed it into the sheath. Damn wrist wasn't going to work well enough to wield the thing, anyways. A quick glance told him that spiky-hair was still in the trees. Ryuichi stood, raising the remaining katana up in a fighting stance, more defensive than offensive. He really didn't want to fight anymore.

Now, would spiky-hair let him bolt? Or would he feel inclined to chase?

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The guy wasn't chasing. Defensive, in the clearing, blade held out as his hand - his other hand - was almost cradled to his body. Was that a feint? Did he want to lure Kotetsu in, and then take him out in a flurry of action?

Zombie seemed like he was a hard hitter - anyone who ran around with a hatchet had to be, if not with thick wrists at least - so maybe he dealt with close-range. Maybe...


Kotetsu whipped down, hanging on a long rope, to swing across the clearing, rolling off onto his feet, spinning his other kunai into his left hand.


"Hey, man," he said, softly, almost. "You go messing with a man's traps, you gotta pay the price. What's with you?" His eyes flicked to the guy's hand, where he thought he could see darkening around the wrist, or something.

Guy looked like it'd be a cool fight, though. Or a spar. If he didn't bleed to death. Or anything. Hopefully.

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Ryuichi tucked into a roll and didn't say anything. Taunts could be exchanged during a spar, yes, but he found them to be a waste of energy, and all and all, rather pointless. If you needed to enrage an opponent (and actually believed it would work) then it was a stupid opponent, and there would be easier ways of accomplishing that.

Still, that didn't mean he didn't listen to the words being spoken. You never knew; it could prove useful at some point in time. What was wrong with him? Nothing. He just wanted to bolt for it, and find a place away from other shinobi for a few hours, let a certain someone blow off some steam. And now he needed to fix his wrist. You didn't do that in a spar. You did that in combat, you died. Simple rule, and one Arai Ryuichi knew very damn well.

The katana slashed out, but Ryuichi stayed low, opting to conserve his advantage for the moment. If he kept moving, then projectiles couldn't hit him that easily. If he stayed low, then no stabbing or slashing weapons. If he was careful, then maybe he could avoid most of the traps. Maybe. Hopefully.

If Ryuichi set off one or two, he was pretty sure he'd live.

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Zombie wanted to fight, then. Well, Kotetsu rolled his shoulder, and parried the strike, leaping backwards in a handless cartwheel, avoiding the back-strike of the katana and slid in, under the man's guard. That took some sliding, it being so low, but he could shove a knee right into Zombie's hip - the exact one he'd kicked earlier. For all its bad points, snow helped tremendously in the slide-department.


Maybe the guy'd go down, maybe he won't. And Kotetsu didn't care, either way. His blood was up, and it was a spar. It was gonna be helluva fun.

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This really wasn't Ryuichi's day.

He took the blow to his hips without comment, though his smile hardened more than slightly at the contact, and dropped down, rolling away. Gaining some distance was a must at the moment. The katana snapped up again, and a heavy boot went in the direction of spiky-hair's nose. It would be nice if the blows connected, but Ryuichi didn't expect them to. He just wasn't moving fast enough; his wrist was bleeding a hell of a lot now, and it was making him slightly dizzy.

Getting rather predictable, aren't we, Arai?

Sensei. She'd say something like that, wouldn't she? And Kaede-sensei would be right, damnit.

Then Ryuichi blinked. Fuck. He was in a really, really bad position right now. Showing the wrong side of his face to the opponent, his blind side. This could end several ways. Most of them were badly.

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Kotetsu slid down, hard, to his knees, skidding and let the boot pass over his head. Wow, was he doing some fancy moves now. His back was getting more exercise than he had for months.


Grabbed the guy's leg. Grabbed and yanked, even as he shoved the kunai up, hilt first, towards the guy's hand holding the katana.

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If Ryuichi had seen the kunai coming, he would have done something about it. Maybe even dodged for once. But he didn't see the blade until it slammed into his wrist (thankfully the hilt, and not the sharp part, or else he would be suffering from extreme blood-loss right then), and his fingers spasmed, and almost dropped the sword. Almost. Years of training made Ryuichi tighten his grip, and roll off the blow, remembering to tuck the left wrist close to his chest as he rolled away. He didn't inhale anything white and fluffy, either, which was nice. That stuff burned your throat when it went down.

This was an interesting fight. ANBU soldiers were really something. He'd bet anything this guy was a Hunter.

If spiky-hair was observant, then he would have noticed that Ryuichi hadn't seen the kunai coming. The scar cutting through his eye would connect the dots well enough. It didn't take a genius to tell he was blind in that eye. It also didn't take a great deal of intelligence to be able to use the fact in a fight.

He rolled away, wanting to get some more distance.

To his credit, Ryuichi did see the trap. He even managed to avoid it.

It was the second one he didn't see. Blindsided. Like an idiot. He should have avoided it, but didn't.

"Fuck."

Slammed into a tree again. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme today. Only this time, Ryuichi found he couldn't move. Wires? No, ropes. Yeah. Holding his arms down. Not good. Not a fucking chance. He should have tried to run when he had the chance to. Or simply not come into the training field at all. But that was done, and nothing would change it, so Ryuichi didn't dwell on it other than to swear once, quietly.

There was blood all over his wrist, soaked; he could tell without even looking. Fucking hell. And it had been a tight bandage, but now it was soaked through. This really, really wasn't his day.

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Fantastic. Kotetsu grinned, got up, shaking grass off his butt. "'kay, Zombie man. Wanna talk now?" he was bouncing, almost with adrenaline. "You know, that was one hell of a workout. We should do that again, man. So. Who're you?"

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Ryuichi had been expecting a blow to the face, or neck. Something that would have guaranteed he would be staying immobile for a while. Maybe a senbon dripping with something nasty. What he got instead was a grin, and an opponent who looked like he wanted to talk.

This was weird. But stranger things had happened. "Arai Ryuichi," he said coolly, face settling into his customary scowl. It was helpful to be able to pretend that you weren't bleeding when you were. Put people on edge.

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"Hagane Kotetsu," Kotetsu said, cocking his head. Guy was really such a zombie. So cool, man. "You got a load of cool moves, seriously. Only you were hurt and all." the smell of blood was fresh in the air. Strong. "Maybe you gotta go to the medics?" He stepped in closer, examining his trap. "I don't think I did anything, none of my traps are meant to draw blood, for all that you did fuck up my trigger so you are gonna pay for that, at least." He wandered around to the back of the tree, and yanked out his kunai, using his foot for leverage. "I know a medic. She's real nice, and always has chocolate in her office. I always visit. Maybe she'll fix you up, then we can spar properly?"

He liked the guy. He was really good for a spar, and hasn't tried to kill Kotetsu. Much. So many of the ANBU were highly strung killers, and more liable to kill rather than spar, and Kotetsu was really glad that he got someone who'd seemed about his level. And had cool weapons. He hasn't seen someone fight with two katana and a hatchet at once.

if that wasn't cool, Kotetsu'd eat the tags he had.

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Oh hell, not this guy too. What was it with people dragging him to the medic? He could patch himself up just fine, thanks. "I'm," and here his voice was rather tight, "fine. Don't need a medic."

Well, he would be once he worked out how to get loose and redo the tourniquet. And get his weapons back. While Ryuichi was stubbornly clinging to his remaining katana, the other one was in the sheath, and his hatchet was on the ground, somewhere he couldn't see. Probably covered up by the fluff. Then he jerked away from Kotetsu as the guy pulled a kunai out of the bark, blinked, and swore. It was even the same goddamn tree. How fucked up was that?

Hagane Kotetsu. The name was slightly familiar, somehow, but Ryuichi couldn't place the face. Not a bad fighter, and his traps were something nasty. Well made, and well set, though traps had always been a sore point for Ryuichi. Maybe because none of his genin team had used them very much, and therefore he hadn't had much of an opportunity to practice fighting against them.

Maybe Kotetsu would teach him? That would be nice.

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"You're leaking," Kotetsu pointed out. "And I can't do anything about leakage, unless you want me to stitch it, and I warn ya, my stitching is big and sloppy. Kanae-sensei thinks I suck at it, but my knots rock." He prodded at the rope. "You know, this is really cool. I didn't think it'd go off this tight, since it doesn't use chakra triggers, but don't you think it's cool? Using the right knots - no metal for this, so not very conductive - 's really thin rope, you see? - I can make it do seals for tightening, but not for the trigger. I think I'll work on that." He rounded back to face Ryuichi. "Honest. Let's go see Kanae-sensei? She can feed you cookies. But the chocolate's mine."

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No damn way Ryuichi was going to a medic unless he was dying, or in the process of getting to that point. Which he wasn't. He glared at Kotetsu. "Untie me, and I'll fix it myself." See? That didn't require any medics. He'd fixed it before, he could do it again. Sensei had taught him how to do it right, since she knew too well how stubborn he was. Something about how he'd deny being stabbed because it was weak. Or something. It had been a few years ago. Sensei always did say weird things.

Now the Kotetsu described it like that, the trap did sound interesting. A whole lot of parts went into it. More than he had first thought. Pretty cool.

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Stubborn ass. Kanae-sensei always called him stubborn, but Kotetsu was nowhere like Zombi-- um, Ryuichi. "Right. Sure. Then you can wait there a little while I clean up."

All his rope traps, first. It had him crawling across the clearing, coiling up thin wire, then hooking them on his hooks. Next the ropes. Tags next, so he took to the trees, pulling them off bark and folding them neatly.


It always took longer to take them apart then to set them up, if you meant to take them apart neatly.


But it was done, all nice and neat, and then he sat down in front of Ryuichi - Zooombie-man, he still looked like one - and started to polish his kunai.

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If he was trying to make a point, Kotetsu would have been better off whacking him than leaving him tied to the tree. That way he could have a reason to plot revenge. This, on the other hand, was all his fault.

Ryuichi glared, swore, and aimed a kick, only to find that the range was too far for the strike to land. Great. Unless he got free (and soon), there would be problems. Feeling dizzier by the minute, Ryuichi, instead of relenting like a smart ninja would have, opted to fuss with the rope. He didn't have any blades hidden in his right sleeve, but there was a kunai under his arm-guard on the left. Only problem was that the left was bleeding out.

Fuck. This was going to hurt.

His cursing might have alerted to his actions, or at the very least his intent, so Ryuichi stopped (opting to grit his teeth and suck it up instead), and wrenched his left arm out to the side and slightly up, snapping the kunai out into his hand. Ow. That hurt. Not enough to scream about, but enough to wince and curse (only he didn't do the last part). One point for self-control.

Ryuichi hissed (and self-control was looking a little shaky in the eyes of annoyance and indignation). His hand was shaking. What the hell?

It took a few quick hand-motions to get the kunai in a position to cut, and several more to give it enough force to complete the actions. It hurt more than it had a right to. Cuts were like that. Apply even a little pressure to them, and they would complain. Give more than a little, well, it was several things. Pleasant was not one of them.

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Kotetsu looked up when the guy made grunting sounds. That and gritting teeth sounds and...

"Hey!" He was up and right next to Zombie guy, tugging the kunai out of his hand. He'd cut through some of his rope, bugger him.

"You want to get out that bad, you coulda just said," Kotetsu said, almost complaining. "Rope's not as rare as wire-shot, but it's not that easy to get at this diameter, you know!" He glared at him, but the smell of blood was really strong.

"Honestly, you're gonna lose lots of red at this rate. Maybe enough to fill a balloon."

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This day just kept getting better and better.

"I did say," he snapped, looking very annoyed to have his kunai taken away. Fuck. Almost gotten loose right there, only a few more stands to go and he could have forced his arm free. Only now it looked like it wasn't going to happen. Ryuichi was filled with the sudden desire to beat Kotetsu with something heavy until he went away and left him the fuck alone. Perhaps then it was a good thing he couldn't really move; Ryuichi was known for giving into his more violent impulses.

His wrist was twinging still, but also starting to go numb. Fucking hell, that was not good. Not good at all. Ryuichi looked up to the sky (still bright blue and no clouds, and still cold), counted to five, considered finishing the sequence and counting to ten, and then said hell with it. Self-preservation (underrepresented as it was) beat stubbornness on the head with the flat of a sword.

"Fine. I'll go to the medic. Now you gonna untie me?"

He'd do it, if only for the reason that Ryuichi had a suspicion that the only thing holding him upright were the ropes. He wouldn't be running off anywhere for a while.

Captain was going to kill him. Slowly.

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"But you didn't say please," Kotetsu said, just to be annoying, and grinned at him as he tugged a knot free just above Ryuichi's left shoulder, and the loops of rope just fell loose and down, to puddle around his feet and the tree-trunk. "Hey," he caught Ryuichi's hand, tugged him over onto his shoulders. "Man, whatever you got there is bleeding like a stuck-pig. I'll get us to Kanae-sensei, she'll fix you up, yes?"


He could leave the rope ... ah, if he kicked it up, he could catch an end, and he could coil it one-handed. slowly, but he could. "Come, then. Let's go see her. Maybe she'll have dark-chocolate this time."

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Karma was a bitch.

Of course, Ryuichi had known this for a long time. Kaede-sensei had gone to great lengths to get her students (all of them as stubborn and hot-tempered as he was, if not more so) to understand that if something had the possibility of going wrong, then there was a damn good chance that it would do so. Therefore, you had to prepare for the worst. If the mission looked like it might possibly go south (even though it was only a B-rank far from any known threats), then you had to be ready in case it did. A-rank could shift to S in a matter of seconds, and it took far less time for someone to die. Be ready. Be on your guard. Always.

Ryuichi knew that. He carried more weapons than had a right to fit on his person. But in the end, weapons were for offensive purposes, and sometimes you needed a tool that would patch you up. A sword didn't do that. A sword could solve many problems, but fixing people wasn't one of them.

When the captain had told him to go to the medic, Ryuichi should have gone. He didn't, of course, because that was something he avoided whenever he could, but look what happened. It got worse, and now he couldn't even stand under his own weight. If he got lectured, he'd deserve it. Hell, if he got decked, he'd deserve that too. And from the way the captain had been screaming, that wasn't such an unlikely prospect. Just another something to keep him on his toes.

Kotetsu seemed to talk a lot, which was actually kind of nice. Then you didn't have to think of things to say yourself.

"I doubt it would have made a difference if I had," he commented, sounding, while not exactly annoyed, a little strained. Chocolate would be nice. He hadn't had any for a while. "Let me down for a sec."

Ryuichi, though he didn't really act like it, knew a bit about treating wounds. Not a lot, not enough to even come close to qualifying as a field medic, but enough to patch himself up and not die in the process. The bandage, if not redone, needed to be tightened. Maybe use a bigger knot for the tourniquet. Otherwise he'd probably end up passing out even before they even got to the medic, and Ryuichi didn't like being unconscious. Teammates had a habit of writing things on your face and taking your weapons when you were down for the count. Kami knew, Kaede-sensei's team had done it enough.

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Kotetsu let him down, hovering a little as he wound up his rope. Guy was bleeding all over the place - Kotetsu ought to have been more considerate, knocked him out and dragged him to Kanae-sensei instead of letting him leak all over the tree. Fortunately, Ryuichi - he's always going to think of him as Zombie-guy, seriously - had had that bandage on, if not someone was going to think Kotetsu'd slaughtered someone here.


Gonna take someone's head off by accident one day.


Yeah, thanks sensei, that was very helpful.


"Need me to do it up?" Kotetsu asked, even as he wound the last of the rope around his wrist, and tucked it up his sleeve. "I can do bandages, at least, Kanae-sensei says I'm not too bad. Lucky I got her plenty of cookies yesterday - she won't begrudge me more chocolate, for you."


Funny, how Zombie-man might have attacked him first, botched a trap, lost him his trigger, but he seriously couldn't dislike the guy. Offering to share Kanae's chocolate with him had to be a first, for Kotetsu. Moriki would laugh.

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If Kaede-sensei could have seen him know, Ryuichi knew she'd be laughing her ass off. Probably make some bad jokes too. If she had been in a really, really good mood, she might have helped him. However, when it was his fault for getting into the mess in the first place, then it was his job to get out of it. She'd said that was how life worked. You had to fix the things you broke, and if you couldn't, well, you had to try.

Still, if someone offered a hand, when you were on your knees, and you might have been starting to shiver, because the snow was soaking through your clothes, it was usually a good idea to accept. Arrogance got you killed. Stubbornness could too, but more often it kept you alive. Hey, take what you've got. If not skill, then at least you can stand the blows for a time.

Ryuichi nodded once, sharply. His hand was shaking too much. If you couldn't be steady, then your work would be sloppy, and that wasn't good. It would take too much time doing it one-handed, as it was. "Yeah. Just do it fast, ok?"

Don't freak out about it, was what his eyes said, all hard and cool.

He sheathed the remaining katana (not much use for keeping it out, now), and pulled a roll of fresh bandages out of his belt-pouch. Always nice to be prepared; it had definitely paid off now.

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Bandaging was easy. It got even easier when the wound was like, all the way across the forearm. Kotetsu's eyes widened at the fucking huge gash on the guy's wrist. Arm. Fucking hell. He tried to fight with this? and just with a tourniquet? Was he crazy?


"I can do fast," Kotetsu said, getting it nice and tight, enough to halt bleeding and hopefully not kill his arm at the same time. "Fucking shit, we'd better get to Kanae-sensei fast." Or hell, the first medic Kotetsu sees.

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Ryuichi grimaced. Somehow it had gotten longer. Probably when he'd hit the tree. Probably when he'd hit the tree numerous times. Fuck.

Sometimes even he wondered about his sanity. Then the answer disturbed him, and Ryuichi didn't think about it any longer. There were some things that didn't require deep thought. In fact, sometimes you really shouldn't ponder overly much. You wouldn't like what you managed to dig up.

"Good." Not much else to say on the matter. He didn't even wince at the way Kotetsu was tying it, though he was pretty sure it was coming close to cutting off his circulation. Small matter. He'd live. Somehow.

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"Yeah. Next time you oughtn't let it drip all over the place. Get some stitches at least. And you shoulda said you were busted, before I whammied you against the tree. At least I didn't use wire for it, that one'd have shredded you, you know." Kotetsu tied it and sliced it off with his bandage. "C'mon. Wanna teleport?" He could do it into the village, at least.

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Ryuichi shrugged. Yeah, he could have said something, but that just wasn't what he did. Admitting a weakness was stupid; it got people killed. Hide it if you could, ignore it if you could. Otherwise, suck it up and keep on fighting. Maybe Kotetsu would have stopped if he had known, maybe not. Ryuichi didn't know him well enough to say one way or another, and he wasn't trusting enough to assume.

"Sure, but I can't do handseals right now." Fingers were pretty numb, not very responsive to his mental cues at all. Cold weather didn't help at all. Probably sped the process along, as it were. Kotetsu would have to do it, since Ryuichi wasn't skilled enough to pull the jutsu off without them. He ought to practice that one more. It was handy in a tight spot.

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"'Kay. Um. let's see..." Kotetsu fiddled his fingers together, and pressed chakra through his hands.

A moment later, he nearly tripped over Ryuichi's legs as he staggered upright under his weight. Sweet, they were just at the edge of the inner Village. Meant they had only... oh, half the Village to walk to get there. "Right. Let's walk, then?"

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