| [Jun. 5th, 2009|03:26 am] |
The clone shook the bottle. "Electrolytes," it wheedled. "Sugars. Salts. Everything the growing body needs. And when you're done you can piss in the bottle."
Kakashi snorted into his rice.
The clone tipped him a wry look. "If you prefer, you can help carry him to the bathroom. I'm not sure this building has actual plumbing, per say, but there has to be something."
"Sealed bucket, probably," muttered Kakashi, made practical by necessity. You got good at dealing with certain indignities after a lifetime of practice, but you didn't have to like it. He grabbed another bite of rice--hands, mask, and bowl moving in a long-perfected dance that never quite showed his face--and reluctantly put food aside long enough to drink from his own bottle.
For a body that had burned through most of its resources in the last two days, salt-sweet water and relatively bland vegetable rice was nothing short of divine. His eyes, visible and not, half-lidded. Muscles relaxed slightly, emotions got shunted aside.
The clone gestured at him, then looked pointedly at Ginta, brandishing his spoon. "If he's eating, you definitely have to. Don't make me resort to playing momma bird."
Kakashi wasn't sure which part of his personality this clone had, but he thought he might like it. |
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