| [Jul. 20th, 2010|01:54 am] |
"They're good," Genma agreed. He swallowed his tea, grateful beyond measure for the warmth and perfume of it, then looked up at Rina again. Her eyes were on him, hunted and dark-circled with fatigue. His answer, he decided, hadn't been nearly what she was looking for.
"Really. They're solid." He smiled. "No one can even see the bunker, because there's a concealment jutsu. Even if they did know they should be looking here, trying to deactivate the concealer without the proper chakra key will trigger defensive traps, too, and send up a distress signal. And even if they managed to reveal the bunker -- well it's not really a bunker, I guess, because we're way above ground instead of under it, but you know what I mean -- even then they'd have to get past the door seals. You know how strong a trigram is. It's standard to Konoha, sure, but they change those things up every six months or so, right?"
She nodded, still looking unconvinced. He put his teacup down and slid carefully closer to her, feeling every cut and bruise and pulled muscle and aching tendon, and what he was beginning to suspect was a cracked rib or two. By the way she'd been moving, she was just as beaten up. Just as eager for the painkillers they'd downed with their tea and ration bars to kick in.
"Come here," he beckoned, and climbed gingerly onto one of the cots. He pushed pillows up against the wall, and himself against them, stretching dirt-smeared legs over rough green blankets. "Come on. Here. You can bring my tea." He held out his arms, one towards her, the other encircling the empty space on the cot he intended for her to fill. |
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