"It's not immunity, certainly." Natsumi rubbed her shoulder gently, testing the fading ache. "He affected me as much as the targets. I've just learned...not to respond." She grinned briefly and reached for her tea. "With my older brother, I had to learn early. He couldn't win when he couldn't make me cry. You just have to empty yourself. Let the cold fill you."

If you couldn't feel, you couldn't cry. The shield of ice and exquisite control had served her through the war, through grief and loss and an adolescent broken heart. It was hard to lose, sometimes; harder still to recover, once she had. But the first time Kaito used his limit, he'd had already been shutting it down by the time she'd been free to pull herself together. And the second time, her jutsu-driven faith in him was all that had kept her going.

"I wasn't exactly mission leader; he's my senior, if only by one mission. But he let me take charge, mostly. He's a sweet boy." Which was probably a ridiculous thing to say about one's ANBU mission partner; she darted a swift glance back at Genma. He was snickering quietly. She sighed.

"He also killed two men, talked one into spilling information and another out of insanity, and ran without sleep for thirty-six hours. I'd be honored to serve with him again."