| Winner Picks Dinner [closed to Raidou and Genma] | [Aug. 17th, 2008|09:10 pm] |
Set in mid-February, about a week after Sacred Spaces
It wasn't a date. Genma had plans to meet Raidou for dinner and a movie, but it wasn't a date, it was just two good friends going to dinner and a movie. He stripped off the sweaty clothes he'd been sparring with Raidou in and didn't think about that flushed, grinning, scarred face of his partner when he'd finally managed to pin Genma. No, what he thought about was the god damned hardness of Raidou's hits. He smiled at the bruises blooming fresh and violet-black along his side, an arm, a leg... At least he'd given as good as he got. And neither one of them had gone for each other's face. Of course Genma would never go for Raidou's face in any event, just as Raidou would never, ever, under penalty of death, go for Genma's hands. Not in a friendly spar. It had been that, finally that had lost Genma the spar, when he declined an opening because it would have meant grabbing Raidou by the ear. The left ear. So Raidou had pinned him-- although Raidou was the better taijutsu user by far. Maybe it wasn't just Genma's failure to take that opening. But he liked to tell himself it was.
He pulled on a yukata, picked up his bathing things and headed down the hall to the showers. First a long hot scrub, with body wash and real shampoo for a change, and conditioner, because.... well just because. It wasn't like anyone would be touching his hair tonight, or likely even notice it. It certainly wasn't like it was a date. He put the conditioner in anyway. Raidou liked to tease him about spending more time on his hair than a girl, but you took the little luxuries where you could find them in this life. When he was clean, he shaved. Careful strokes of a straight razor over a jaw that didn't really need it. But Genma had a stupid beard, scruffy, strangely reddish, and if he let it come in he either looked like a derelict bum, or like a sixteen-year-old who was reluctant to part with the first signs of new manhood. He added a splash of that really nice sandalwood aftershave Yanagi had brought him from Wind Country to complete the shave. After all, this wasn't a mission. They were staying in Konoha, going to a restaurant where half their fellow-diners would be shinobi, and a movie in a theatre much the same. He didn't have to worry about scent tracking right now.
Redonning the yukata, he padded back to his apartment, feeling clean and refreshed and just a little bit excited. Happy. It was an off-duty night, he was well rested, Raidou was well-rested, they'd had an awesome spar and he'd just had a fabulous shower. There was about to be dinner and a movie. With Raidou, his best friend. It was just a really, really great day.
Clothes next. He pulled on plain white boxer-briefs first. Low cut and just a bit snug. Then jeans. He got out three pairs, finally settling on the slightly more faded ones, with the tighter hips and slouchier knees. And that shirt in deep periwinkle blue that Sumire said made his eyes look good. Not that he cared what Raidou thought about his eyes. It was just nice to look good. You never knew who you might run into while you were out on the town, after all.
Then weapons. Senbon stowed here, kunai there, garrote wire in a shoe. He was a ninja. Even off duty he did not go out unarmed. He slid a slim leather case containing needles he'd carefully painted with toxin into his jeans pocket, ran a comb through his nearly dry hair one more time, grinned at himself in the mirror, and made a face. Teeth. Right teeth. Well that was easily remedied. He headed to his sink and brushed. And that's where he was, when Raidou arrived. |
|