| Could You Bite The Hand? [closed to Genma & Raidou] | [Jan. 18th, 2009|10:55 am] |
[ Takes place the evening after Equilibrium and The Dogs Ate My Homework ]
After leaving Kaito to his campy torch songs and his renewed homework assignment, Genma had gone in search of Ginta. Found him, too, but it turned out he was already busy getting ready for a mission he was scheduled for in the morning, and a command appearance at his grandmother's for dinner in a few hours.
And he was in a pissy mood about something, Genma could tell. His laugh had been particularly crystalline when Genma'd mentioned how he'd tried to work a minor healing jutsu on a guy and given him some accidental wood in the process. If that didn't make Ginta laugh--really laugh--then it was probably a good idea to leave him to his mission planning and dressing for dinner. Besides, he'd been second best, and he'd said as much to Genma.
"You don't want to hang out with me. Where's your buddy Raidou? Your hip-attachment break down or something?"
Genma had winced just a little at that. Covered it with a grin and a laugh and some joke about the the futility of the angle. And left. Because pissy, and holy fuck was he actually jealous or something? Ginta was no fun to hang around with.
Especially when he was right.
At a quarter past six Genma went on an extensive search for his best friend. Someone told him they'd seen him breaking things in the training room, but when Genma got there he found only the usual assortment of shinobi working out, a few drops of blood on the floor that could have come from anybody, and a punching bag detached from its chain, propped sadly against a few other pieces of broken equipment.
A second round of hall-roaming and even a floor-by-floor search conducted in parallel by several clones yielded nothing more than a door-duty chuunin's assessment that Namiashi-san had left the building an hour ago, and he'd been injured, but she couldn't really remember how badly. Just that bandages on the face had been involved. And that he'd seemed like he was in a hurry.
Genma had thanked her, sworn, checked Raidou's room for the twentieth time and found it as unoccupied as each of the nineteen previous times, grabbed up some weapons, some money, a leather jacket and a scarf, and headed out into Konoha.
He found Raidou in the fourth bar he tried, suckering some poor schmucks into a game of darts. The litter of empty shot glasses on the table next to him, his red, glassy eyes, and too-loud laugh, and the patchwork of bandages traipsing up his forearms and over the scarred side of his face painted a pretty clear picture for Genma, if not about what exactly had happened, at least what he could expect from here on out.
"Yo," he said, sliding in between Raidou and his target, catching a thrown dart with one hand, and reaching for a shot glass with the other. "Dinner?" |
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