| [Jan. 22nd, 2012|12:33 am] |
Weird thing about trust, Ryouma has said once, a lifetime ago, it cuts both ways.
Sometimes Kakashi wondered if there was a memo that went around that never made it as far as him.
He’d kissed Ryouma for the first time a moment after, uncertain and new and half-expecting to get punched for it. He didn’t plan to kiss Katsuko now, but some of the same feeling was there, like a trial by fire hammered into a single moment. Broken families and my boys and a reflection turned female and lonely.
“They suffered,” he said, soft-voiced, and leaned down again, bending until he could almost rest his forehead against Katsuko’s. Her dark hair tickled his skin. “When you go after Kaminari, tell me. I want to help you break her in half.”
Katsuko’s eyes flew open. This close, he could see the glitter of lights reflected in the irises. “I...” she said. The shock in her scent twisted away, replaced by a sweeter harmony of blood-fire and relief: a warrior with back-up. “Yeah. Yes. I will.”
Then she ruffled his hair again, because she was ridiculous. Kakashi huffed and twitched away, but didn’t entirely dislodge her hand. Her vengeance was half an impossible pipe-dream; even if she could find the scientists who’d hurt her, there was almost no chance Konoha would let her chase them, and another AWOL attempt on Kakashi’s part would be a good way to get himself executed...
But she’d been hurt in Konoha’s service; the village owed her.
“We’ll get Ryouma to help,” he said, ignoring the flicker of thought that said he really needed to stop mentioning his... person in front of the girl who’d lost him. Katsuko didn’t seem to care. “His jutsu hurt more than mine, and he’d kill me if we left him behind.”
“Really?” Something like uncertainty touched her voice, as if she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea of help, readily available. It made him want to bite something. She shook her head, grinning up at him. “Man, we’ll be unstoppable.”
Just as soon as he got her fractured seal fixed.
If he could get it fixed.
Her hand was still tangled in his hair. He leaned his cheekbone against her wrist, thinking of dark-haired boys and brown-eyed girls. Obito and Rin; Ryouma and Katsuko. He was older, smarter, faster than he ever had been, a jounin among other jounin. Not a thirteen-year-old leading children into landslides. Maybe this time he could do it better.
Cuts both ways.
Maybe this time, someone else would lead.
He leaned sideways and wrapped his arm around Katsuko’s narrow ribcage, hauling her up. She made a yowling, protesting sound, like a cat dragged out of a sunbeam.
“C’mon,” he said, bringing her up with him as he climbed to his feet. “It’s late and I’m freezing. You can stay at my place tonight.” |
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