| Karma's Bitch [Genma & Yanagi] | [Jul. 10th, 2009|08:42 pm] |
[Takes place five years ago, mid-December, six weeks after the Fox's devastation of Konoha, approximately five months after FUBAR]
Genma had been in ANBU barely a month. His armour was still stiff, his mask still shiny, and the handle of his katana had only just begun to feel like it really fit his palms. There were a lot of new faces behind ANBU's masks. A lot of grieving faces behind masks both new and old. There was no one in Konoha who hadn't lost someone to the Fox's carnage. ANBU had sent more than a quarter of her agents to their graves that night. Genma had been still dressed in funeral blacks over bandages when he received the scroll stamped with Sandaime's seal asking him to take the oath and pledge himself to Konoha's black ops.
Now, a month later, he'd already run five missions. This was his second with Kamiyama Kobo as his mission leader, and already Genma liked him. Kobo was a quick thinker, an excellent strategist, and an experienced commander, who was flat-out scary with a sword. And good company, besides. They were on their way back from a mission that had taken them past Waterfall's borders. One that had gone off easily. Kobo had been the one to suggest they spend the night at this Konoha outpost in Fire country's far north-west.
Genma was cooking up an approximation of rice and leek porridge for breakfast in the station's small kitchen, and Kobo was working on their mission report, when an exhausted woman in civilian clothes but wearing a Leaf hitai-ate burst in. The first weapon to come to Genma's hand was the kitchen knife he'd sliced the onions with. Kobo was on his feet, hands raised in a placating gesture.
"It's okay. I know her. She's one of us," Kobo said. "Manako, what's wrong?"
"My agent's in trouble," she gasped. "Need a medic. Got to get word to HQ. Are there birds here?"
"What kind of trouble?"
"Poisoned, I think. And gonna have his cover blown if he can't show up to his gig tonight."
"You're in luck. My partner Genma's a field medic and a poison guy," Kobo told her. "And our mission's finished. Genma, you think you can go with Manako and help her guy out?"
"Uh… Yeah. I can try." Genma set the knife down before he gave the woman — Manako, Kobo had called her — a salute. "Shiranui Genma. Did you give him any antidote or—"
"Couldn't. I'm Omae Manako." She saluted back. "And my guy is deep cover. If I'd gone anywhere near him, I'd have put him at risk. Grass ninja are looking for a shinobi they tagged with a poison blade who got away from them — that's my guy, Yanagi — and Yanagi missed a meetup. He's holed up in his apartment, I think. Cover ID is travelling musician, and he's got to perform tonight, or those bastards are gonna put two and two together."
"How long ago?" Genma went to his pack and started checking his med kit and weapons. Breakfast forgotten.
"Maybe four hours," Manako answered. "I ran three to get here." She looked it, too. Looked like she'd run five. Kobo brought her a glass of water, which she downed gratefully.
"Give Genma directions. And whatever your countersign is," Kobo told her. "He's fast. Probably faster than you'll be until you get some rest."
"Yeah," Genma agreed. "I'll go as fast as I can." He hoped he wouldn't be too late. Poisoned blade could mean anything. He really hoped the guy wasn't already dead. |
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