| Could You Bite The Hand? [closed to Genma & Raidou] |
[Jan. 18th, 2009|10:55 am] |
[ Takes place the evening after Equilibrium and The Dogs Ate My Homework ]
After leaving Kaito to his campy torch songs and his renewed homework assignment, Genma had gone in search of Ginta. Found him, too, but it turned out he was already busy getting ready for a mission he was scheduled for in the morning, and a command appearance at his grandmother's for dinner in a few hours.
And he was in a pissy mood about something, Genma could tell. His laugh had been particularly crystalline when Genma'd mentioned how he'd tried to work a minor healing jutsu on a guy and given him some accidental wood in the process. If that didn't make Ginta laugh--really laugh--then it was probably a good idea to leave him to his mission planning and dressing for dinner. Besides, he'd been second best, and he'd said as much to Genma.
"You don't want to hang out with me. Where's your buddy Raidou? Your hip-attachment break down or something?"
Genma had winced just a little at that. Covered it with a grin and a laugh and some joke about the the futility of the angle. And left. Because pissy, and holy fuck was he actually jealous or something? Ginta was no fun to hang around with.
Especially when he was right.
( At a quarter past six Genma went on an extensive search for his best friend. ) |
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| Mission Assignment |
[Dec. 30th, 2008|02:56 pm] |
Mission Rank: A
Agents Assigned: Shiranui Genma 010203, Gekkou Hayate 011671
Operations to commence: 3/16
Description/Objectives: Travel northwest to the city of Juunan and infiltrate the offices of Oimikado Hanabi. Retrieve documentation listing names and financial standings and contributions of her political backers. Kill Mitsugawa Osamu, Oimikado's chief assistant, in such a way that his body will be discovered with the body of an underage prostitute (choice of ancillary target to be at agents' discretion) and implicating Oimikado for the murder. Documents extracted during infiltration are to be copied and delivered to a drop location whose coordinates will be provided by field Intel operatives after mission is underway.
Possible Hazards: Oimikado's office is guarded and alarmed. Documents to be extracted may be contained in a safe.
By authority of Arakaki Hisoka, Director of ANBU Operations |
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| The Dogs Ate My Homework [closed to Genma and Kaito] |
[Dec. 29th, 2008|10:42 pm] |
[Takes place two days after Hit the Bell Curve, three days after Ew, What's That Smell?, and five days after Empathy Is a Good Thing, Right?]
Genma's Sunday was proceeding along fairly typical lines for one without a mission. There had been getting up earlier than he would have liked, to go for a jog with Aoba. Actually before that there had been fumbling for clothes in the dark in an unfamiliar apartment, a hasty thank you and kiss goodbye, and tumbling into his own bed still smelling of--what was her name?--at a little after 0300. Getting up to run at 0730 had been, Aoba had informed him, his friend letting him sleep in.
Then there had been breakfast with a few of the guys. No Raidou, who had passed up this morning's activities because he was busy training with Kaito. Kaito, whom he'd rescued out of the civilian psych hospital two days before, he'd said. Which was not Genma's place to pass judgment on. There were as many ways to cope with stress as there were different ANBU masks, if not more. But he and Raidou had agreed that as coping mechanisms went, it was one of the odder ones.
(
It also reminded him that he'd given Kaito a homework assignment ) |
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| Pots & Kettles [closed to Genma, Haruichi & Hoshi] |
[Nov. 25th, 2008|10:03 pm] |
Takes place in late January, three or four days after the completion of the Three's a Crowd... mission arc with Genma, Tsume and Raidou; and Come Hell or High Water and Purgatory Is a Hospital Bed, with Kakashi and Haruichi.
The sun had risen high in the sky, clipping the shadows around everyone's heels and warming the thin winter air. Life went on as normal throughout Konoha, everybody moving swiftly from task to task through the bright streets and seeking out a little warmth on their way.
High above, watching life go by, Toshimora Hoshiko was bundled up in blankets and hard at work. Legs dangling from the short balcony that ran outside their living room window, making the tired metal squeak softly with each idle swing. Her lap was taken up by a sketchbook into which she was etching the scene below, all ribbons of guttering and patchworks of tiles, rooftops to walkways and even the odd person who caught her eye. It would be something to stare at for years and still pick out something new once she was done - but for now, it was work in progress.
Much like her fiance, who was supposed to be asleep in bed in the next room. Haruichi had been out of the hospital for only a few days and barely out of Hoshi's sight for the entire time. His arm was still strapped in a hugely bulky cast from elbow to knuckles, he still looked like a strong breeze could knock him on his backside, and he still had that bizzare looking bruise on his temple where - he'd somewhat shiftily explained - there had been repeated accidental collisions with a canteen and some rocks.
( Hoshi wasn't buying it, but it was amazing how little she cared about anything besides the fact that he was alright. ) |
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| Eww, What's That Smell? [closed to Genma and Tsume] |
[Oct. 30th, 2008|11:06 pm] |
[Takes place two days after Just Promise to Keep Your Heart Broken and Empathy is a Good Thing, Right? Early afternoon on the same day as What Hell Is Like]
Genma was really quite pleased with himself as he was preparing to leave the lab. He'd spent weeks perfecting the mix of heavy-metal ions and jellyfish toxins, and had finally arrived at a poison that was swiftly lethal, sufficiently generic in its symptoms for its victims to be mistaken for having died of natural causes, and completely undetectable. He'd summoned a somewhat grumpy Aoshi--his rat with the most sensitive nose--who had declared that he didn't smell anything but the food, and could he please have a plate without the poison now, since he had been called upon when he'd been entertaining. In fact, if Genma would provide enough for him to take back to his guest...
Genma had happily handed over a whole piece of meat, which dwarfed Aoshi's head, and sent his summons back to his date. He'd cleaned up the plate of poisoned stir-fry, burning the inedible food to ash with a jutsu, and soaking the bowl in an acid rinse to be sure no traces of the dangerous substance remained. Then he put away his ingredients and finally, the new poison itself.
He labeled the vial with clear, firm strokes: Poison. Contact and vapor safe. Do NOT ingest. Use standard neurotoxin antidote with chelating agent. Contact Shiranui Genma for more information. Smiled at it as he set it on the shelf next to a few other finished poisons. All in the ingestion category. Inhalants were, unsurprisingly, stored under a fume hood, and contact poisons were double locked in glass containers, on their own shelf. Then he stepped into the airlock, stripped off gloves and lab coat, dumping the gloves in a waste container and the coat into a laundry basket. He'd taken off the oversized glasses that served as eye shields before summoning Aoshi, preferring the risk of accidental injury to the surety of ridicule. So that was that. A quick stop in the men's room to wash his hands, take his ponytail down and put his hitai-ate back in place, grin another self-satisfied grin at himself in the mirror, and he was done with poisons for the day.
Now was chow time. The smells from that test dish had been sorely tempting. A late lunch should still be possible in the cafeteria, if nowhere else. Time to go find some curry! |
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| Empathy Is a Good Thing, Right? [closed to Genma, Arisa, and Kaito] |
[Oct. 24th, 2008|07:35 pm] |
[Set the morning after Expletives Don't Cover It, one and a half days after Better Than It Was]
Raidou was still recovering from his back injury, so he wasn't up for a morning spar. That was fine, Genma decided. After an invigorating but abbreviated run, since he was still getting over his cold, and a quick check that he didn't have any missions assigned, he opted to use his morning on mental pursuits for a change. After all, training was a continual process. You trained the body for combat. You trained the mind for analysis, intelligence gathering, seeing beneath the underneath.
It was totally a mental exercise, and not nosy curiosity, that sent him down to Intel at a quarter past ten.
In fact, it was a testament to his knowledge of the workings of ANBU's spooks and analysts, that he knew that there would be fresh coffee and donuts now, and that his inside source, Haga Arisa, would be taking a break from her duties as Mission Coordinator Level Two. Which was a fancy way of saying she was one of the powerful few who determined whether you got sent to Mud Country in the rainy season, or a cushy gig guarding a princess at the seashore.
This was just routine information gathering. After all, Raidou had said he'd been assigned to look out after this rookie Kaito as a specific mission. After he got his back sliced up rescuing the kid from some kind of capture on a seduction run turned bad. And he'd mentioned a genjutsu bloodline the kid couldn't control. These were all important things to know more about, since Raidou was his best friend, and Raidou had been saddled with this kid. It would undoubtedly fall to Genma to pick up the pieces at some point or another. Better to know what those pieces were going to be.
He slipped into the Intel lounge and sauntered up to Arisa, leaning over her shoulder to peer at the magazine she was perusing. "So what's gonna be the hot color for summer? Should I do my nails in teal?" |
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| Better Than It Was. [Closed to Genma and Raidou] |
[Oct. 18th, 2008|03:22 am] |
[Set five days after Incident at Shimabashi and the afternoon of And Other Such Expletives.]
When Raidou woke up it was to find his head on the far side of fuzzy-feeling and his bare back stuck to the sheets. As returns to consciousness went, that one ranked up with sucks out loud. He gave his ceiling a disgruntled look, feeling more tired than when he'd actually gone to sleep, and peeled himself off the bed. A glance at the clock revealed it was early evening; he'd missed most of the day sleeping.
But at least he hadn't managed to burst any stitches, he'd just--oozed enough to make his bandages seriously sticky. And the painkillers he'd swallowed before he'd fallen down with vague aims of hitting the bed had worn off so much it wasn't even funny. His back hurt.
( Still, between him and the shinobi guard, he wasn't the dead one. ) |
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| Incident at Shimabashi: Conclusion [closed to Genma] |
[Oct. 17th, 2008|07:14 pm] |
[Takes place in early March. Immediately follows Incident at Shimabashi]
Getting a room in a small inn was, as he'd hoped, easy. Shimabashi was a trading hub, a port for goods coming upriver from the ocean, many kilometers distant, and for produce flowing back down from inland farms. It was a bustling city, full of strangers passing through for a night or two. A perfect place to remain anonymous, with no questions asked. He was shown to his room by a motherly hostess, who offered to get him a doctor for his terrible cold. Genma declined, though he did allow her to get his futon ready and send him up some medicinal tea.
He dropped his henge with a weary sigh the moment she'd departed. His grand plans for a bath and a hot meal felt suddenly like too much work as he sat on the floor removing leg bindings, armour and weapons. And the futon looked terribly inviting. He decided he'd just lie down for a moment, just long enough to let his headache ease, and then he'd go down and see about that bath...
( It was long after sunrise before he woke... ) |
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| Hanging Over [closed to Genma & Raidou] |
[Oct. 13th, 2008|06:05 pm] |
Takes place in mid-February, the day after Winner Picks Dinner
When Genma woke up for the first time, he was still drunk. He managed to get himself and his pot of nastiness to the bathroom, where he pissed out a good quart of converted alcohol, and poured away the puke. Then he flushed the whole mess, rinsed the saucepan, gagged a little but didn't start with the heaves again, and decided his head would probably appreciate it if he tried to get some water and painkillers down now, while he was still slightly buzzed.
( He had some vague memories about getting home. ) |
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| Incident at Shimabashi: Opening [closed to Genma] |
[Sep. 16th, 2008|08:03 pm] |
Takes place in late February
It was a fluke that Genma was still in Akatani that morning. His mission had taken longer than expected, as his target had failed to appear for three whole days. Genma had lain in wait, crouched immobile, concealed by ornate architecture and shadowy genjutsu, on the tiled roof of a small outbuilding on the estate, for every one of those days. It was an excellent spot, hidden behind a fire-protection dolphin decorating the tiled rooftop, so close that he could hear the business of the household. The mistress scolding a servant for damaging the brocade on a heavy winter kimono. Cleaning girls gossiping about some local Lothario that one of the kitchen staff had been seen entertaining. Cooks preparing freshly-caught fish for the nightly meal. That had been especially trying, smelling mouthwatering odors of what was clearly daily fare for this household, while Genma had had to content himself with a sticky-dry ration bar and a few swallows of water from his canteen.
( If he'd had his choice in this, he would have simply infiltrated the house in dark of night, slit the man's throat in his sleep, and left the body to stain the silken bed sheets scarlet. ) |
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| Get Your Story Straight [closed to Ryouma, Raidou, Genma] |
[Jun. 11th, 2008|10:36 pm] |
[[takes place two days after Three is a Crowd. Four is Salvation.]]
Inside ANBU Headquarters, information spread through a precise and rule-regulated path. Intel field agents collected it; Intel internal agents distilled it; Oita Gennosuke, the director of Intel, read their reports and briefed Arakaki Hisoka, who personally briefed the Sandaime Hokage.
But if anyone really wanted to know what was going on, they had to talk to the chuunin who staffed the HQ Mission Desk.
Ryouma was there now, perched on the edge of the desk, swinging one leg and gossiping happily. Reiko was happily married and eight months pregnant, but she was also cheerful and funny, and she loved gossip as she loved breath. She and Ryouma were speculating vividly on the exact nature of the rumored relationship between two Hunters--Ryouma thought they were sleeping together, and Reiko wasn't so sure--when ( a man in the casual clothes of an Intel agent ducked his head in. ) |
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| Marked for Life [closed to Haruichi & Genma] |
[Apr. 25th, 2008|02:58 pm] |
Every now and again life throws you a bone. Genma got this particular one in the form of an anonymous message from someone in Arakaki Hisoka's office that one Hyuuga Haruichi was on the list for induction. It was a time-honored ANBU tradition--part hazing, part ceremony--that new agents were brought in for their official induction into ANBU by senior agents. When the time came for a new ANBU field agent to receive his tattoo and mask, to get his armor from the quartermaster and swear his oath before the Hokage, a senior ANBU--Hunter for a new Hunter, Intel for a new Intel--would be sent to the home of the rookie to escort him in.
Now technically Haruichi wasn't a rookie, seeing as he'd served as ANBU's in-house medic for several years already. But he was a brand new field agent, officially a Hunter-Medic. He'd never been tattooed before, never been issued a mask or uniform, because he'd never left the building. He'd been, like the chuunin who manned the mission desk, the Intel data analysts, the other non-combat staff, ancillary. Unmarked.
( Not Anymore. ) |
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| How to Lose a Life [closed to Genma & Kakashi] |
[Apr. 19th, 2008|06:48 pm] |
Backstory, set in September, three and a half years ago, one month after Genma's return to active status following his detention by Iwagakure and subsequent medical leave.
The room the woman led them to was no different from any of the other briefing rooms in Intel. It was windowless, with a screened vent bringing in an air-conditioned chill that at this time of night made goose pimples rise on Genma's bare arms. There was a table with metal legs and a faux-wood top, peeling in one corner where some nervous agent had chipped at it with a shuriken or kunai while awaiting his Intel handler. There were chairs, six of them, though only three would be in use. One for the debriefer, one for Genma and one for Kakashi. If they'd all made it back from the mission, two more of those chairs would have been occupied, Genma thought bitterly, seeing ghosts of Ishida Nobuki and Oda Ayako waiting at the table. Masks off, faces exposed, they looked accusingly at him. Ayako's dark good looks marred forever by the explosion that had shattered her mask and torn her face in half. Nobuki's chest protector gone, his sternum open. His blood on Genma's hands.
Genma sat mechanically, glancing at the camera in the corner of the room. Quiet, unobtrusive. It would record this debriefing, as all debriefings were recorded. It was probably even sending a live feed to someone important, seeing as there had been deaths. Seeing as the mission itself was a failure. They hadn't recovered the stolen scrolls. They hadn't eliminated the ninja who stole them. They had returned with only half their team. The camera's black lens mocked him, a tiny black mirror, just one step away from the one-way glass that lined the "real" interrogation rooms. How different was this, really? A debriefing, an interrogation. If he and Kakashi gave the wrong answers, this would turn from one to the other in a matter of seconds. The fact that two sentries had accompanied them and stood outside the door now attested to that.
He didn't even glance at the morose agent beside him. Kakashi was as grim and silent as Genma, stiff-backed and tense. They had been relieved of their weapons, checked and treated for injuries, and brought to this room with a curious mixture of severity and gentleness on the part of their handlers. He could see it in the eyes of the sentries who took their weapons, and on the faces of the medics--the one who'd splinted his fractured ankle, the one who stitched Kakashi's scalp and bandaged his burned right hand, scorched black by his own jutsu. They were sorry and afraid, and thinking quietly to themselves, thank god it wasn't me on that mission.
He wanted a cigarette. He needed a cigarette.When the woman from Intel sat down across from them with a small, almost kind smile, and held a pack out to him, Genma could have wept. She waited while he took one in shaking hands, waited while he struggled to light it, not once offering to humiliate him by doing it for him. Waited while the powerful ventilation system drew the smoke up in a long blue spiral. Then she finally began.
"Debriefing for Mission DL-5407-13. Agent Akayama Kimiho, 004463 taking statements from Agents Hatake Kakashi, 009720 and Shiranui Genma, 010203. This debriefing will be conducted in tandem with both agents reporting in from the mission present." She looked up at Genma and Kakashi and gave them that same soft, not-quite smile. A look full of sympathy and understanding. It made Genma feel ill. She was trained. One of those debriefers. The ones who got sent to take the statements from men who shared a debriefing room with ghosts. |
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| Three is a Crowd. Four is a Pain in the Tail. [closed to Tsume, Raidou, Genma] |
[Apr. 17th, 2008|06:53 pm] |
Directly follows/continuation of Three is a Crowd. Four is a Massacre.
Time passed.
Kuromaru wasn't great at telling time beyond animal instinct. The storm fouled his ability to measure with the accuracy he needed to know how many minutes were sliding by. The watch helped, though he found it difficult to read. He peered at it, puzzling out hands and numbers, waiting for the right time.
She'd been gone too long. Not longer than three hours, but longer than he believed the trail would hold. Two hours passed, and he watched the freezing storm with mounting anxiety. They wouldn't find her in this weather, if something had gone wrong. She would hole up. She knew how to den in, stay safe until movement was possible again. He realized he was whining and stood, pacing to the door and outside, trying to find her trail just beyond the ice where Genma had tossed dirty water.
He couldn't, of course. Her trail was long since dead. Kuromaru howled. Nothing responded except wind and lashing rain. He returned to the fire, eying the men absently, pondering Raidou. The watch ticked. One ear flicked toward the entranceway.
( It had been too long. ) |
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| Spilling the Beans [Closed to Aoba and Genma] |
[Apr. 13th, 2008|03:37 am] |
A sense of calm had pervaded over the upper levels of ANBU HQ. It was like a collective breath had been released, and Aoba felt it especially (mostly it meant that all the best, juiciest rumors had gone flat). Shibata was in a better mood (at least as far as he got), Genma and his burly luggage were released from the hospital, and even Ren-chan and Ayumi-chan were around. In all, Aoba was in pretty high spirits and he had Murakami to thank for it -- wherever she was.
He adjusted the bottles of beer in their cardboard home and the pizza in his other hand, careful to keep his eyes peeled for any other hungry ANBU that could be lurking in the hall. It wouldn't be the first time he'd have to defend dinner from some rookie that was too poor to go out and too cautious to head into the cafeteria for Monday's Special. Really, balls were important in this line of work, but hell-! Let a man have his damned pizza. This evening's target was Genma, he needed some loosening up and some good old buddy time.
Aoba felt a little guilty for being so busy while his friend was out. Besides, Machiko wasn't allowed on the Suicide floor to visit them (not to mention Raidou could be a damned bitch about someone seeing him when he was on his back), and he didn't like going alone. He turned the corner from the elevator and found the object of his current interest inching up the hall towards The Princess's Chambers. "OI. GENMA." |
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| A Game of Go [Closed to Genma] |
[Apr. 10th, 2008|09:56 pm] |
(set after It Takes Your Last Saving Grace)
Shikaku and Genma had a routine. Genma would get his ass seriously wounded on a mission and drag himself back half dead, and Shikaku would visit him with beer and a Go board as soon as it looked like Shiranui could maintain consciousness long enough to make a visit worthwhile.
It hadn't started as a routine. It had started as Genma getting injured, again, and Shikaku chewing him out, again. But the sequence had repeated itself often enough, and Shikaku was practical enough, that he figured he may as well accept that Shiranui was a death-wishing dumbass on missions, and that he may as well get some Go out of it.
Shiranui was even starting to get better at the Go.
Though between the IVs and their relative experience, Shikaku still gave him a nine stone handicap. |
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| Three is a Crowd. Four is a Massacre. [Closed to Genma, Raidou, Tsume] |
[Apr. 5th, 2008|09:08 pm] |
Backdated to before Thicker Than Water. Set after the It Takes... threads, and the morning after Stories We Tell. In response to this mission.
It seemed like a fairly easy mission, all in all. Oh, sure, the fighting was going to be a tin of bloodworms, but at least it didn't involve searching out missing scrolls or working undercover. Find the ball of cat turd who'd killed their ninja, kill him back, and come home.
( These were the kinds of missions Tsume rather liked. ) |
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| Freely Given [closed to Genma & Raidou] |
[Mar. 13th, 2008|02:27 am] |
Backstory, set in November. Immediately follows Fair Trade, Brother
Genma didn't remember a lot about his father. He'd died when Genma was only seven, so while he had some solid memories, they were mostly the sort that a child forms. Impressions as much as events. One thing he was sure of was a memory of his father waking him in the early morning by pulling the blankets away and lifting his sleepy son from his bed with the phrase, "Up and at em, Genma-chan. No rest for the wicked, you know." As a child Genma never quite understood why his dad called them wicked, but he had no doubt that his father meant both himself and his son when he said that, and he meant it with affection.
Genma wasn't sure why he thought of it now, but it was certainly apt. He'd been asleep maybe an hour when the agony of returning sensation to his frozen hands and feet broke through half-formed dreams. The first thing he was aware of after the pain in his extremities, was Raidou, right there, with one arm under Genma's head and the other thrown around his shoulders, pulling him in like he was afraid Genma might slip from his grasp. Funny, since Genma was really the one who was afraid Raidou was going to try to run away again.
His feet burned and itched and were an agony. The bones within ached. And what happened for his feet went double for his hands. It was odd how clear-headed he felt thinking about it. How he could tell himself I've had worse; it was worse in Iwa, and not have it set off the shaking, nauseating flashbacks pain like that sometimes did. He wanted a painkiller. He wanted it to stop. He didn't dare get up, because Raidou was still asleep, and undoubtedly would be hurting just as much when he woke. More because his ankle--broken or sprained in that desperate flight the night before--would be screaming now. Didn't dare wake him up because for the moment Raidou's scarred face was at peace.
Flashbacks, Genma thought, and could feel ever single scar on his hands, ever single mended bone, every single regrown nerve. That had to have been behind Raidou's break. Something like that. What else could drive a man so mad with grief he'd run for miles barefoot through the falling snow? |
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drained
pleased
hung over
aggravated