| Coming and Going [Kuromaru, Yasuo, Waki] |
[Jun. 24th, 2009|05:34 pm] |
[Companion piece to the Pirates thread. Takes place during Pirates and Ninja.]
"You're a bad ninja," Kuromaru mumbled, his muzzle resting on his forepaws as he lay across the hospital bed.
Yasuo refrained from pointing out that Kuromaru was the one needed in the hospital for chakra surgeries -- even if they were mostly certain the rot was gone this time. He also refrained from pointing out that if Kuromaru hadn't been so determined to leave the village, they could be home in the clan grounds right now waiting for Tsume's return, rather than locked in a hospital room to ensure Kuromaru stayed where he belonged. And finally, he refrained from pointing out that he was following orders, while Kuromaru was disobeying them at every turn -- his doctor's orders to stay put for surgery, the Hokage's orders that Tsume go without Kuromaru, and Tsume's orders that Kuromaru stay here.
( Refraining was getting easier. He'd already pointed everything out many times over the last two days. ) |
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| Blood Will Make It Right [closed to Ryouma and Tsume] |
[Nov. 30th, 2008|05:25 pm] |
[[Set the day after The Safest Place You've Found, Gestalt, and Ryouma's journal entry of March 6.]]
Ryouma had never considered himself much of a morning person. True, there was that whole exciting vista of a brand-new day spread out before him, but facing it generally involved getting out of bed. When Tsume slipped out, sometime after dawn, he rolled over, mumbling something incoherent, and snuggled into the pillow she left behind.
Then he smelled coffee, and woke up properly.
Tsume was puttering between bathroom and kitchen, hair still mussed from sleep, toothbrush wagging in the corner of her mouth. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow to watch. She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment to rinse and spit; when she wandered out again, she was raking her fingers through her hair, sorting the messy locks into some approximation of order. Silent in thick woolen socks, she padded back to the tiny kitchen-nook to check the coffeepot and fetch down a mug. Even in the overlarge tee-shirt she'd slept in, standing on tiptoe and reaching over her head, she was one long lean line of muscle and elegance.
Ryouma grinned at the world in general. "Putting the mugs on the top shelf was my best idea ever," he said, and sat the rest of the way up. "Did you make enough for me?" |
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