Confidante Who: Shiranui Genma and Balfour Vallet When: October 7, after It’s just a game Where: Kitchen, then Balfour’s room. What: Genma needs someone to talk to, Balfour is there. Warnings: Genma, flirting, a little smoching. Open or Closed: Closed Observable: The part in the kitchen, yes; in Balfour’s room, no.
The fight left Genma feeling very old, more than anything. He didn’t show any particular distress on his face or in his posture, and when he was back in the dorm areas, he roamed about with his usual lazy manner. He wandered out of several hiding places when other people stumbled across them, and couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to be alone or with others.
Restlessness. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t want anyone to see it.
That left him with the task of finding something useful to do that he didn’t run the risk of getting out of control, which left training straight out of the equation.
This was how he wound up in the kitchen, for once lacking his jounin vest, instead dressed in the navy uniform shirt and pants, no bandages holding them tight against his skin, for once. The senbon still between his lips was the only visible weapon, no pouches strapped over his clothing. His eyes swept the room as he considered what he would like to eat... and then stopped, zeroing in on one young man he’d met before.
His head tilted to the side a little as he considered.
The soldier with the sweet kiss the and the Izumo crush.
The soldier who hadn’t enjoyed being a soldier.
Genma silently moved toward the young man, then leaned himself against the counter beside him, not even offering a verbal greeting.
Balfour was at the counter with a cookbook and several ingredients that all added up to lemon meringue pie, biting his lip as he followed an instruction, then corrected, shaking his head and cursing softly. He’d never made this before, but he was determined to make something that Izumo would eat...hopefully.
He glanced up when he was suddenly joined, smiling softly at Genma, then finished what he was doing before putting it in the oven to cook.
“Hey,” he said softly, flicking his eyes up to his face, cheeks turning slightly pink as he remembered the kiss.
“Hey,” Genma replied, the corner of his lips tugging up a little at the blush. That was about the best he could manage, but he wasn’t always the most expressive in the first place, so he didn’t think it would likely give him away.
Unbeknownst to Genma, of course, his collar chose that moment to malfunction, and a little holographic symbol appeared about his head. A frowny face.
He peered at the cookbook the other man was holding, not realizing what he was giving away, and spoke again.
“Making something special?” he asked, very quietly.
Balfour blinked at him a moment at the frowny face above Genma’s head, but he happened to mention food at that point, successfully distracting him.
“Oh, well, I haven’t made this before,” he said with a shrug. “I’m afraid it won’t come out right--no way I’m feeding anyone this if it doesn’t taste right--but I figured it’s time for a challenge. Not to mention, I can’t seem to get Izumo to eat any of my desserts, but I found out what he liked recently, so he might eat this.”
He beamed at Genma, laughing softly.
“Ahh, for Izumo, of course.”
Genma managed a soft laugh, though there was little real humor in it. Part of his mind was still back in the Arena. No regrets, he’d thought then, but that wasn’t really how it worked. It was how he wanted it to work, and that was an entirely different thing. Despite having lectured Minato on pretty much the same thing recently, he couldn’t completely take his own advice.
He peered at the recipe Balfour was using, bobbing his head a little.
“Looks fairly solid. The meringue is the hard part, getting the texture just right. But I bet you can manage. Perhaps if this one doesn’t come out quite well enough to feed your dearest Izumo, I’ll take a slice.”
“Ah, you’ll have your piece,” he said with a grin, scooting a little closer, trying to decide if he wanted to get close to this guy or leave it be. It often made him wonder what he was missing, being so attached to Izumo.
As they would have said back home, he needed to get out more.
“You might have to do me a favor, first, though.”
What that favor was, he wasn’t sure. He was trying his hand at flirting, though.
Unfortunately, he sucked at flirting.
“Oh?”
Genma tried for a playful tone, almost hit it. He cocked the senbon between his lips a little, bouncing it between his teeth soundlessly, carefully.
“Well, I’m a little tired today, but I could probably manage a little something, depending on your taste,” he said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.
He chuckled softly, a lopsided grin on his lips as he leaned against the counter, fingers pulling, tugging, twisting at the gloves in his belt. He tugged them back on after a moment, his eyes averting.
“Are you okay?” he whispered after an awkward silence. He could tell. Perhaps it was too much time with Izumo, but he could almost sense the false note in his smile.
Perhaps it was the grumpy face that had shown up moments before.
Of course. Genma was used to being better at this, being able to get away with it. But he’d been put so far off balance by this world, by the situations of the ninja here, by the Game. Life and death weren’t supposed to be a game. Playing with power... it brought up too many bad memories.
The ninja gave his companion a long look, doing nothing to hide the fact that he was searching Balfour’s face, trying to come to a decision.
Izumo had said that Balfour had spunk under his politeness. Genma had thought much the same when they’d spoken before. And Balfour himself had said that he was learning from Izumo. Suddenly, Genma was very sure that he wasn’t just talking about in the bedroom.
He leaned a little closer to the younger man, testing, without saying a word.
Balfour shivered slightly at the sudden closeness, glancing back up at him for a moment before dropping his gaze, a hand coming to rest on Genma’s upper arm, squeezing gently, reassuring, offering.
He was there, whatever Genma wanted from him, he was there. As long as it wasn’t something unnerving.
Genma’s eyes slid from Balfour’s face to the gloved hand on his arm. He’d noticed the gloves being put back on, and that... was an interesting thing in itself. Something to file away and remember, think about later. Still working, always working.
He slid the senbon to the side of his mouth, carefully, and closed the last small bit of distance between them... to brush a kiss against Balfour’s cheek, very carefully keeping the needle out of the way, with long years of experience.
“You’re a good kid.”
“Hm, and you’re rather talented with your lips and tongue to control that needle like that,” Balfour said with a sassy smirk, meeting Genma’s eyes despite the fact that he was blushing like no one’s business. His hand remained on his arm and he stayed close, still there. He didn’t know what else to do.
Genma straightened a little. He wasn’t much taller than Balfour at all, and with the way he tended to slouch, it didn’t seem like much difference at all. The senbon was shuffled from one side of his mouth to the other again, and he shifted back just enough to touch the counter again, not enough to take him out of contact.
“Practice.”
There was still a thoughtful expression on his face, and then he wrinkled his nose, gave a wry laugh.
“Do I look that much like shit?” He wasn’t injured, had showered and changed, and didn’t think he should look too ridiculously like a mess. But if this guy was used to dealing with Izumo... well. Genma liked Izumo - a lot, he was realizing - but he was also realistic about the man’s state of mind.
“You seem sad,” Balfour said softly. He was getting more familiar with false notes in the smiles as he was trying to get to where his held none, no matter how upset he was. Sometimes it was intentionally empty, his smile, but most of the time, he didn’t want people to know that he wasn’t really okay. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know,” Genma said, honestly.
Sometimes, being honest was the easiest way to deal with things. Genma enjoyed it when that was possible, and he didn’t suppose it was really necessary to lie to Balfour. He wasn’t going to be facing the young man in the Games, and somehow he doubted Balfour would have any reason to cause him harm.
The only person they really knew in common, that he knew of, was one Genma was quite determined not to set himself against, no matter what happened.
So Genma glanced around the kitchen, making note of the full situation, deciding how much he could relax his guard. He took the slightest of steps to the side, sliding down the counter a little, and then gave a little twist of his lips, definitely not a smile this time.
“Aren’t you going to make your pie?”
“The pie can wait,” he said, frowning deeply as Genma slumped against the counter, touching his shoulder again. He saw a friend in need and food held no sway over him in that case.
He didn’t know what would possibly have Genma down like that, as opposed to how relaxed he was so often, almost to the point where he wasn’t paying attention. He seemed so...
Balfour wasn’t sure what the word for it was, but he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around him, hugging him tightly.
“Talk to me.”
Genma didn’t stiffen under the contact. He didn’t tense. He wasn’t that far gone, at least. He was distressed, upset, and somewhat hating himself, but he wasn’t out of control. If he had been, he certainly wouldn’t have approached this young man. He’d have most likely drugged himself and let it pass, or perhaps gone to Izumo.
Not Minato.
The arm he slid around Balfour moved slowly, and gave one single gentle squeeze before he withdrew it.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you hugging ninja was a bad idea?” he asked, softly. “If you want to play therapist for me, we’ll have to go somewhere more private. I could help you cook instead, if you’d like.”
He didn’t really care which, at this point, and his tone said so.
“No,” Balfour said with a shrug, giving him another squeeze and backing off. “And I don’t care.” As far as he was concerned, Genma needed a hug, and he didn’t care whether or not it was a bad idea.
“Let me put the pie in for a few minutes--shouldn’t take too long--and then we can head to my room. I don’t have a roommate and I am sure my drawers are stocked with snacks.”
He grinned at Genma, but not too broadly, no longer joking and flirting. He put the pie in the oven and set the timer, then moved to clean up his mess. There was no reason to leave the task half-done.
Genma gave a slow nod, and after a moment, he stepped to the side, reached for a washcloth, and added soap to it. A few seconds held under the faucet, and then he moved over to begin wiping down the counter as Balfour cleared away his ingredients.
“Might as well help,” he said idly, his lids lowering again into his favorite placid expression. A friend at home had teased him that he looked like a cow, doing that face and chewing on his senbon, just like the big dumb animals would chew their cud. He didn’t particularly care what it looked like; it got results.
“I had a nice little chat with our mutual friend about you, not too long ago,” he said, his voice once again light and playful. There was no sign now of strain in it; he’d simply slid back into his normal tone for the moment.
“I appreciate the help,” he said gratefully, carefully putting things back where they belong, nice and neat, just for something to do with his hands. He huffed out a laugh when Genma mentioned that he and Izumo had talked about them, but there was a slightly frightened note to it.
What had they talked about?
“Oh?” he asked playfully, wrinkling his nose up at Genma as he moved by him, pulling down some tea to put on for them before they disappeared back to the room. “What did you guys have to say?”
“Only good things,” Genma said honestly. Or at least, they’d been good things as far as he was concerned. Though he supposed their banter about whether Izumo would be passing Balfour over to him might seem a little churlish to anyone not used to such rough talk. It’d been entirely teasing, of course.
Well, mostly, at least.
He gave a long slow wink. “And I see you are learning a lot from him, aren’t you?”
“Well, I try,” he said with a blush, looking down, seeming somewhat ashamed that he hadn’t learned quite as much as he would have liked. He smiled and squirmed slightly, then glanced back up at him, shrugging. “He’s a good teacher, no matter what he says.”
He slipped past him, checking the pie, then nodded, pulling it out.
“Come, we’ll eat this one--save a piece, of course--and drink some tea up in my room.”
“Need me to get anything?” Genma asked, the corners of his lips turning up a little. That blush of Balfour’s had been one of the topics of conversation between him and Izumo, but he wasn’t going to say that.
He was comfortable enough offering to help Balfour, as he wrung the rag he’d been using out a little and left it hanging by the sink.
“No thank you,” he said, grabbing the tea kettle, tucking the tea and the wrap under an arm, the pie held in his other hand. He frowned at the pie for a moment, then turned to Genma.
“Actually, if you could carry that, that would be great,” he said with a small smile.
Genma gave an amused little snort, reached out to take the pie, and balanced it on one hand.
“Got it.”
He settled his other hand against Balfour’s back for just a second, and then gave a little nod.
“Lead the way,” he said simply.
Balfour grinned back at Genma when he touched his back, nodding to the instructions and quietly leading him to his bedroom and putting the teapot on a knitted doily on his desk, tea and wrap set on the desk, a place cleared for the pie, a knife pulled out of a wrapped packet.
“Do you want a large piece or a small one?” he asked.
Genma didn’t sit down as soon as he entered the room. He had to take a look around first, standing just inside the door and sweeping his gaze around the room. It was a room like the other ones in the dorm, like his own. The only truly personal thing he saw right off was an obvious love of pillows, a sentiment he agreed with heartily. Books as well, another thing they shared.
He didn’t see any particular traps offhand, but if Izumo and Balfour were close, it wasn’t out of the question.
He slipped the senbon back and forth across his mouth a little, then stepped over to the bed, took a seat on it, leaning back a little into a pile of the pillows.
“Might as well have a large piece. I burned a lot of energy in a Game today,” he said, casually.
Balfour nodded a little bit, putting the piece on a plate, then putting another piece on his own plate, pulling two forks from his drawer, then going over to place himself among some of his pillows, smiling softly at him.
So he’d been in a game.
“What kind of Game?” he asked, poking at his pie for a moment. His experience with the Games, even though it was just a maze, had been enough to upset him.
Perhaps that was what was bothering Genma?
“Simple enough,” Genma said, deceptively lightly. He gave the pie a considering look, as if deciding if it was edible. Of course, he didn’t expect it to be perfect: meringue was difficult. But it looked fine, and he slid his fork into the fluffy stuff on top, wiggled it a little. The meringue was not quite as stiff as it could have been, perhaps, but good.
He slid the fork in a little further, getting some of the lemon filling and crust as well, and took a bite before speaking it.
“Fight to the death. Large enough area to run around in, not a close fight necessarily.”
“I take it you won?” he said softly, leaning over to put his fingers gently on his wrist, comfort. He wondered if he liked the pie, but he didn’t say much about that. “If...if it helps any, they’ll come back. One of my friends was in two games and got killed and he came back.”
He still frowned. It wouldn’t have helped him. One bite of the pie later, he shook his head.
“It’s not permanent here.”
“So I’ve heard,” Genma agreed. He didn’t shake off Balfour’s touch, but he didn’t acknowledge it, either.
In the kitchen, Balfour had made him want to talk. Now that they were alone, he was back to considering it, weighing it. He could have spoken to Izumo, but that was quite different. And he wasn’t sure that it would make any difference. He wasn’t sure that talking to Balfour would.
He took another bite of his pie, gave a little nod.
“I like being a shinobi. I hadn’t thought about whether I liked it or not, before you said something, but I do.”
“Well, that’s good then,” he said softly, his legs curling slightly, his hand retracting to take a bite of his pie. Oh, it didn’t taste too bad. He nodded in appreciation of his own cooking, making a note to keep a rather large piece back for Izumo, then turned his gaze back to Genma.
“I mean, isn’t it better to like what you are than to dislike it?” Even if it consisted of killing. He tilted his head slightly, wondering what the point of the statement was.
“Not always,” Genma said, frowning. His thought was of certain shinobi who hadn’t liked what they are, what their families or their world made them be, who had fought to change those things. Sometimes it wasn’t good to be content.
But that wasn’t what Balfour had meant, was it? And it wasn’t what Genma himself had meant by his comment either.
He shrugged a shoulder, took another bite.
“A shinobi is what I am at home. Here, it’s not so simple. Izumo told me to stay away from the Games.”
He knew that his words were coming out a little unnecessarily vague, but he figured if Balfour was used to shinobi, he could handle that.
“Good advice,” he said about Izumo advising Genma to stay away from the games. He had hated it and his game was just a light one, just a maze--that ended up in Izumo having to kill the competitors before they killed him and Izumo.
“I can understand, somewhat. At home, I was a...a soldier. Not a good one. I was...a brother... Not a good one of those, either.”
He laughed, making fun of himself as he shifted.
“I suppose it all comes down to what you want to do? You don’t have to be a shinobi, even if you’d liked it. You can, I don’t know... I went into healing, myself. Or you could, heh, teach, I guess? A waiter. A bartender. A maid. There’s loads of stuff you can do.”
He was babbling, so he bit his lip and forced himself to be quiet.
“No, I couldn’t,” Genma said simply.
He shrugged his shoulder, took another bite, and then gestured to the pie. “This is pretty good, especially for a first attempt. Not too sweet. Izumo-kun will like it, don’t you think?”
He wasn’t changing the subject. Well, he was changing the subject. But only long enough to find the words to properly express what he was thinking. If he’d been with someone he knew better, he’d have just been silent, but strangers tended to find that awkward.
“I’m sure you could,” he said softly, forking another bite to nibble at. “And...well, I hope he does. I still owe him big time for all he’s done for me. I just...”
He sighed, shook his head. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, so he put the bite in his mouth. Sometimes silence was the best. Silence wasn’t as bad as trying and failing to fill the silence, grappling desperately at all the wrong words, making an utter fool of yourself.
Sometimes silence was best. The good thing about food was that it allowed for silence. He took another bite and waited for Genma to speak.
“What is Izumo?”
Genma said the words very quietly. His eyes slid to the side, toward Balfour, and he reached up to slide the senbon from his lips. He’d been eating around it, as he often did when uncomfortable, but now he slipped it into a hidden pocket in his pants, carefully.
“I think he works at a club?” he said softly, unsure. He wouldn’t mention the fact that he suspected that he had some sort of information ring going. Oh, no. No, that wasn’t something for him to tell, especially if Genma didn’t already know.
Genma rolled his eyes and snorted. “And is that what he is or what he does?”
The little emoticon reappeared about his head, rolling its eyes as well.
“Well, that’s what I thought you were asking. As for what he is... I suppose you have to ask him,” he said with a shrug, unable to keep the smile off his face when he noticed the emoticon rolling its eyes at him.
“Me? I’d say, oh... I’d say he’s...a good person. Intelligent, more than he gives himself credit for...” He seemed to struggle for words, tossing out descriptions as they came to him when they seemed to personal. He couldn’t say what he knew, after all. It would be an invasion of privacy, among other things.
“Simply, a good guy. I’m not that good at describing others. I can’t even describe what I am.”
He laughed softly, hiding with his laughter the fact that he didn’t know what he was.
Genma had to admit, he was rather impressed. Balfour might not completely understand what he was driving at, but he wasn’t giving away anything Genma might not know. Of course it was possible that Balfour didn’t know a lot about Izumo, but he didn’t think that was the case. He couldn’t be sure though, which limited what he would say as well.
It didn’t matter too much. Izumo had only been brought up as an example, a convenient one.
Genma gave a slow nod.
“People are complex. Defining one - even yourself - isn’t easy. And sometimes, to make it easy, people define themselves by various things.” He frowned, because that wasn’t exactly what he was trying to say.
“Would you expect Izumo to be something he wasn’t?”
“No,” he said softly. “I like him as-is. I know a lot of people want him to be something he’s not...” He knew that what Izumo presented was a mask, from his mannerisms to the sight of his skin. He said nothing about that, either, tight-lipped with his best friend’s secrets. Izumo trusted him, after all, and there was no need to destroy that trust.
“I don’t think it’s fair to ask someone to be something they’re not.”
A red face, steam coming from its ears, came up above his head. Despite the placid face, such a thing truly did piss him off.
“But that doesn’t mean that they can’t choose to be something...on their own terms.”
When Genma noticed the face, he didn’t show any sign of it. A jutsu, maybe? Or some kind of hallucination? He wasn’t sure. It seemed a simple enough thing, and harmless, but he wasn’t sure what to think about it. The realization that Balfour could keep a calm face even while extremely angry, though... that was important information.
Had he learned that from Izumo, or had he always been that way?
Genma added it to his mental file, and as he did, the symbol above his own head had a thoughtful expression.
“That’s true. But those choices are complicated things, they don’t come easy. And I’m...” He drew in a breath. “Okay, so you think I’m sexy, but in my world, my age is old for an active shinobi.”
Balfour was tempted to say something about what he had thought he was when he came, the fact that he was trying to change himself, trying to figure out what he was other than a failure of a soldier and a failure of a brother.
But Genma’s words made him laugh, the emote above his head wiggling its eyebrows at Genma as Balfour moved in a little closer.
“Oh, well, in my world you’d not be that old for a soldier, too, but what you call ‘old’ is part of the appeal.” He laughed a bit more, leaning forward to smack a kiss on his cheek, no real grace or pretense in it, just friendly and flirtatious.
“Anyway, my chief sergeant was older. Still sexy.”
And that emote, well, was not safe for many peoples’ eyes, though not explicit.
Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Genma couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He set aside his now-empty plate, not moving to get another piece of pie just yet, and stretched out on Balfour’s bed. A slight shift of one leg had his senbon in easy reach, but it was an automatic gesture. His head wound up leaned against Balfour’s leg casually.
“I had a crush on an older man when I was a teenager,” he said, feeling quite comfortable enough to share the information. He wasn’t in a hurry to get back onto the other subject, not yet, and the little symbol that was betraying his emotions looked... sleepy.
“See, so age does have its benefits,” he said softly, smiling and relaxing as Genma laid down beside him, fingers touching his forehead, back of his knuckles swiping along the bandanna, his mind drifting off somewhere for a moment before it came back.
“Probably have all the younger ones drooling after you, don’t you? It’s good, I guess...”
Balfour didn’t seem to think that he would be one of those.
“At least they’ll pay attention when you tell them to do things.”
Genma shook his head, smiled a little. “That’s not really the case. In fact...”
He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not really like that. I have a few friends... and that’s all.” He frowned, because he had been on a particular topic, and now he’d made his way all way around it in a circle.
Bringing him right back to his original point.
“I’m a shinobi. And a clown, sometimes. And a friend, to some people. I’m not a leader, precisely, and the leader I follow has changed, three times in the course of my life.”
He shrugged a shoulder, and then reached up a hand, his fingers brushing Balfour’s for a moment. His hand continued, though, and slid aside to swipe the bandanna from his head, dropping it beside the bed as if it didn’t matter. The clink of metal that the plate made as it hit the floor was enough of a reminder that it wasn’t the case.
“I’m a shinobi. I fight shinobi. But today, the person I had to fight... wasn’t a shinobi. Or a samurai. Or a warrior. He was a dumb kid on a winning streak, who looked at me like he’d never known real terror before that moment.”
Balfour sighed quietly, his fingers dancing along the man’s hairline, rubbing his temple, and then buried his fingers in his hair, combing through it gently, fingers massaging the scalp. It was something he’d done with his sister, a friendly, familial thing to him, just a way to show affection.
“That’s terrible,” he whispered when Genma told him about the guy he’d had to beat. There was no other words for it, really.
He’d made a mistake. Genma had been thinking that the whole time he was in the Arena, and he thought it again now. His body stayed completely relaxed, and he even melted a little into Balfour’s touch, turning his head into the fingers in his hair.
But the little symbol that had been giving away his emotions was still doing so, though he couldn’t see it himself. The thing suddenly closed its eyes tight and began to shake.
“It’s life. At home, sometimes, civilians get caught in the middle of fights. It happens. But here... it’s different. There’s no reason to it but someone else’s amusement, and that’s... I don’t know what to do with that.”
He didn’t move away from Balfour. He wanted to. He’d miscalculated something, let himself become too comfortable. Because Izumo trusted Balfour, or seemed to, he’d done the same. But Genma was different, and this much intimacy with a stranger was too much.
He held still, tilted his head back a little, and smiled up at the man.
Balfour let out a soft, soothing noise as he continued to move his fingers through his hair, head tilting down a little bit, returning the smile just barely. It was a sad look, agreement with Genma’s sadness. He ran his fingers through his hair again.
“You can always refuse to fight,” he whispered.
“I could.” Genma closed his eyes, a concentrated effort to feel as relaxed as he looked. If it had been any of his close friends at home stroking his hair this way, he’d have been fine. Hell, if it had been Izumo, he’d have been fine.
But this young man he’d only spoken to twice, and it was stretching his own limits, despite the man having done nothing that showed that he was dangerous.
Genma gave a soft sigh.
“I don’t think I will, though.” He wasn’t sure how to explain why, not exactly. He wondered if he understood it fully himself.
“I don’t think I’d be much more comfortable if I did. If it’s not me, it’s just someone else.”
He nodded. It made sense to him, what Genma was saying. If it wasn’t them killing people, it would be someone else. It was good for your own conscience to not be in on it all, but then what about the others.
“Probably wouldn’t do much good anyway,” he said softly. “I never once signed up for a game, never had any intention of getting into one, but got thrown into one nonetheless. I don’t think they care.”
“What was your game like?” Genma asked, curiously.
He rubbed his head against Balfour’s hand like a pet, rearranged his long legs a little, propping one up on a pillow to put his hidden senbon closer to his fingers.
“Just a maze. No one was supposed to die,” he said softly. “And then someone came at Izumo with a broadsword, another with a bow and arrow... Not something I’d particularly like to do again, but no one was supposed to die.”
He smiled at Genma, but the emote above his head flashed between sadness and frustration.
“Is that how you and Izumo met?” Genma asked, his eyes barely flicking to the image above Balfour’s head before moving back to his face.
He slid his hand up to play fingers against the younger man’s for a second, curious about Balfour’s limits. He was, Genma had noticed, wearing gloves still.
“Ah, no. He found me wandering around, like, my first or second day here and we ended up chatting in the cafeteria for a while.”
And then retreating to Izumo’s room for a nice long night together. He left that bit out.
“So we’ve...more or less, we’ve been friends since I got here.”
He ignored the fingers against his hand, something he was getting good at thanks to Izumo.
Genma nodded.
“Did that make things easier for you?”
He was still quite uncomfortable, but he continued to play the game, his hand dropping from Balfour’s and then reaching out again. This time he slid a finger against Balfour’s cheek, his eyes watching his face as he did so.
“Yeah,” he said softly, eyes fluttering a little at the finger to his cheek, leaning into the touch somewhat. “Yeah, it was great having a friend here. A lot less lonely.”
He smiled, fingers drifting back to Genma’s temple.
“I used to do this for my sister on her bad days. She’d lay with her head in my lap, you know, and beg for me to stroke her hair. Brushes hurt. She also wanted me to sing but I doubt you’d want that.”
He laughed.
“Hey, don’t decide for me like that!” Genma protested, playfully. There was laughter in his gaze as he met Balfour’s eyes, and the smile on his face was a little more real than it had been earlier. Despite the tension he was feeling, the lack of certainty about Balfour, he was... enjoying this a little.
“In fact, I’d love for you to sing to me,” he said, grinning.
Balfour chuckled softly.
“Really now? You would? I can’t promise that I’m all that good,” he warned softly. He actually wasn’t a half-bad singer, but he doubted himself quite badly about most things.
“Trust me, no matter how bad you are, I’ve heard worse.” Genma laughed, pursed his lips as if considering, and then gave a little something more away. He’d already been pretty frank with Balfour the first time they’d spoken, after all.
“I had one sister who sang like an angel, and one who... well, quite the opposite. You can’t be the worst.”
“You should tell me about them some time,” he murmured before starting in on the old lullaby his sister had so loved. He only sang a verse of it, the foreign words so familiar on his tongue. He didn’t know if it translated, but he hoped it didn’t. He wanted Genma to hear his language as well.
Genma had been mostly teasing Balfour. At least, the idea of Balfour singing to him had been a funny thing, an amusement. He hadn’t expected his own reaction to it, the way the relaxation he’d been at least partially faking became quite a bit more real.
Dangerous, he told himself. And he resolved to ask Izumo a little more about Balfour, soon.
But for the moment, he was lying there with his head on the man’s leg, his eyes closed, and his hand dropped from where it had been resting on his leg near the senbon he had stowed earlier.
He was completely silent until Balfour finished singing, and when the song ended, he whispered, “thank you.”
“You said you wanted to hear it,” he whispered right back, his fingers still resting at Genma’s temple for a moment before his hand dropped out of his hair completely, his head tilting back against the wall, his shoulders relaxed as well. Genma wasn’t too bad, he decided. He should hang out with him more, get his head out of Izumo’s ass a little.
“Feeling better now?”
“Somewhat,” Genma said, honestly. Of course, this particular fit of... whatever emotion it had been... being soothed wouldn’t really do anything about the overall situation. He had decisions to make, and the person that he would have loved to take orders from wasn’t thinking about things in a way he could accept.
Still, he couldn’t think about it logically if he was as upset as he had been, and he did feel a little lighter now.
“You’re good at this.”
“I had a little sister,” he said dismissively, shrugging a little bit in response. He was glad that Genma felt better, even if it was only a little bit better. He didn’t like seeing a friend hurting, and whether Genma liked it or not, Balfour considered him a friend.
Genma nodded. Balfour had said that already. But the words seemed almost a way of deflecting the compliment.
He would have argued, but he was a little too comfortable to do it at the moment. So he let it go.
“Mm.”
He shifted a little, then gave a sigh and rolled away, pushing himself into a sitting position. He’d gotten about as relaxed as he could let himself, with someone he didn’t know well, and he offered a sheepish smile as he moved. “Give me another piece of that pie,” he said.
Balfour chuckled quietly and got up to walk over to the desk, carrying both plates with him and loading them up with more pie. He set another piece on the wrap he’d brought, a very large piece, and wrapped it up carefully. He’d turn that over later.
“Here, lazy bones,” he said with another chuckle as he went back to Genma, handing him the plate and fork before folding himself up in his bed again and eating his own pie.
Genma laughed as he took the plate, then gave his best slow lazy smile. “Hey, I’m not about to pass up an opportunity to let an attractive young man spoil me rotten.”
He curled up against the pillows and dug into the second piece of pie, focusing on nothing but enjoying the food and the company. Now that the initial stress was past, he could manage that.
Balfour just laughed and waved his hand, mouth full of food. He didn’t see a need to answer it, though. He just ate, and once he was done with that piece of pie, he nodded in approval.
“I’ll have to remember the recipe for this one. It’s really good. Not as good as brownies, of course, but good.”
Genma’s eyes lit up. “Well, brownies are always good. And cookies, that’s usually what I make when I want a treat. But of course Izumo-kun doesn’t need anything to sweeten him up, does he?”
He laughed, because honestly “sweet” wasn’t a word he’d use for Izumo, exactly.
“He’d a pretty lucky guy, having a... friend... like you to cater to his tastes so.” The sly grin on his face was inevitable.
“He doesn’t like sweets,” Balfour said, as if that was something so obvious. Even still, it had taken him a while to find something that Izumo might eat. He would also have to make sure to secure some lemon drops and licorice, as he’d been told. Sure, he knew it wasn’t a request, but he’d taken it as one.
Genma’s words about him catering to Izumo’s tastes quickly brought out the tomato in him, a hand coming up to rub roughly at his cheek as he averted his eyes.
“No, uh...heh. I’m, ah. I’m the lucky one. I’m sure he could find someone else to, ah, cater to his tastes, as you say.”
Genma didn’t even try to keep a straight face. The sly little grin turned into a huge smile. He rolled his eyes a little, and then tapped a bare foot against Balfour’s leg.
“I knew he didn’t like sweets, I was making a joke.”
He considered cutting himself off there, but it was too funny to pass up.
“Also, taking advantage of the fact that his name is the easiest way to get that look out of you. The cute one.”
He winked, as if there were nothing odd at all about finding Balfour blushing about someone else attractive.
“That’s not fair!” he grumped, glaring at Genma, the face above his head turning firetruck red. “You shouldn’t make fun of people like that, you know? That’s not nice at all.”
But he leaned over, nudging his arm with the back of his hand.
“Who knows. Maybe soon I’ll be blushing over you.”
Maybe. He wasn’t that bad a kisser--oh and there it was, pink in the cheeks.
He must not drop the pie. Or fall off the bed. Those were Genma’s first thoughts, as he burst out laughing and pushed his plate a little away from him on the bed to protect it. He shook his head, and when he looked at Balfour again, his smile was apologetic.
“It’s not mean when it’s all meant in good fun,” he said, and then amended that a little. “I don’t intend for it to be mean.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to the other part, but he took a stab at it. “Fickle pretty boy, aren’t you? But I can’t say I’d mind.”
“I suppose you’re right, but it’s still not very nice at all to tease someone like that.” He wrinkled his nose at Genma, his face heating even more when he was called fickle. It was true, sure, but it was more because he was making himself be fickle, trying to not get too attached to any one person.
He didn’t see a need to let Genma in on that one, so he just continued to blush at him, the face above his head doing the same, hiding its face, even.
Genma figured he really should have mercy on the poor kid. But he missed having his friends to joke around with, and while he could do so somewhat with Minato, that was a little more complicated. By things like loyalty and death.
This was somewhat simpler, even if Genma couldn’t say he trusted Balfour completely.
He pressed his lips together to hold back another laugh, picked his pie up, and took a couple of bites before saying anything further.
“Hmm, I suppose I’d better start being nice if I want treats.” There was a pause before he waved his fork at the pie. “Treats like pie and brownies, of course.”
“Yes, you need to be nice to me or I’ll keep all the sweets from you,” he said, sticking his tongue out at him, nudging him with his foot.
The lighthearted teasing was something he could deal with, something he could tolerate. He liked lighthearted teasing. Once he finished his slice of pie, he gave into a whim and flopped over, putting his head on Genma’s thigh, grinning up at him.
Genma blinked at Balfour in surprise, and then gave a soft laugh. He wiped his hands on his pants, not because he’d made a mess with his pie, but out of habit. One scarred and calloused hand drifted down to play in Balfour’s hair, much as the young man had done with him earlier.
“You already know I’m a good cook myself though. So I’m not sure the lure of treats I didn’t have to make myself is quite strong enough to overcome the urge to make you blush.” He tilted his chin to look down at Balfour, a smile on his lips and mischief in his eyes.
Balfour’s eyes slid almost closed at the hand in his hair, the boy’s body relaxing completely against Genma. He wouldn’t let on, exactly, how nice it was to have his hair played with, but he did seem to like it quite well if how he as acting was anything to go by.
“Then I’ll have to find something else to convince you with,” he said, wrinkling his nose and giggling at him a little bit. He actually wouldn’t, considering he saw it as friendly instead of torture. “Then again, maybe I’ll just stop blushing.”
“Don’t do that.” Genma emphasized his point with a slight tug at a short lock of Balfour’s hair.
“It’d be a terrible waste. Better to learn to use it to get your way than to just stop doing it. But I figured Izumo-kun was teaching you that.”
“No, he hasn’t taught me that yet,” he said, squirming when his hair was tugged, cheeks darkening again, only slightly. “Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. I don’t know if he’ll want me learning how to use it against people.”
Genma’s eyebrows went up at the reaction to the hair pulling. He filed it away to think about later, then went back to gently combing through the strands.
“Hmm. It’s a useful skill.” He leaned back against the wall, then spoke again, a little softer, almost as if he weren’t teasing anymore. “As for other ways to convince me, you have to overcome my laziness for that. Working for things I can take care of myself just seems silly. Izumo hasn’t managed it yet, even.”
Not that Izumo couldn’t have, if he’d been trying, but he wasn’t going to come right out and say that.
“I suppose it would be, but I’m sure he doesn’t want me using it against him,” he said with a little chuckle, pushing up against the hand in his hair, encouraging it. “And as for convincing you, maybe I can just look into things that you’d really rather not do yourself and that would benefit you to behave.”
“I don’t know about that. Izumo likes to be kept up with, in my experience.” Genma laughed easily, remembering the flirting that had passed between himself and Izumo. He didn’t mind saying that much about it to Balfour, as that aspect of Izumo’s personality didn’t seem like a secret thing.
He slipped his fingers along Balfour’s earlobe on the next pass, gentle teasing.
“And you’re starting to sound almost cocky, kid. Plan to teach an old dog new tricks?”
Balfour giggled, winking at Genma.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve had a good teacher,” he said, grinning up at him. “You sound like you have a lot of experience, ah, keeping up with Izumo.”
Genma snorted at that. “He’s a champion flirt.”
The little image about his head got that thoughtful expression again, along with a little scratch of the chin. Thinking hard. Genma’s face, on the other hand, was completely relaxed and still playful.
He leaned down a little, his own long hair - missing the bandanna that he’d tossed in the floor earlier still - falling forward. “Takes a lot to make me behave. Even my superior officers say so.”
“Oh? Really now,” he said softly, his knee propping up, shoulders pressing back against him just slightly, a teasing nudge since he was afraid to flail his elbows. He might hit somewhere he didn’t want to, after all. “Even if not making me blush would get your room cleaned?”
‘Ooh heavy hitter.” Genma put on his best pout, though the thoughtful expression above his head didn’t budge.
“That’s such a tough call. I do hate doing my own cleaning.” He could do it, of course. He’d been doing it for years. But that was beside the point. He gave another playful little tug at Balfour’s hair, watching his face as he did so.
“I might have to think about that one.”
His cheeks heated again when his hair was tugged as the emote above his head waggled its eyebrows at Genma, squirming ever so slightly.
“You do that. It might be worth behaving.”
“Well, let’s see. First we have to outline what counts as behaving then.”
Genma licked his lips, starting to miss his senbon a little, and then teased his finger down over Balfour’s cheek, lightly.
“Making you blush by talking about Izumo is misbehaving. But you said you might blush over me...and you’re certainly blushing when I pull your hair.”
Genma grinned, reaching up with his other hand to push his own hair back a little.
“And considering the-” his voice dropped teasingly at this, “ squirming going with that, I’m not sure whether it’d be categorized as good or bad. I’m afraid you haven’t given me the most clear picture of your desires, Balfour-kun.”
Balfour chuckled quietly, shivering at the finger on his cheek.
“Saying dirty or suggestive things about Izumo just to see me blush is out. Anything else is fair game,” he said, face going a bit darker at the suggestion that the hair-pulling was getting good to him. He frowned a little bit at it.
“Well, the position isn’t the most comfortable in the world. I’m trying to shift so my lower back isn’t scrunched up. I had to shift my hips.”
And if he sounded a bit defensive, well, that may or may not have been Genma’s imagination.
“You know, there’s an easy way to solve that riddle,” Genma said. He put on his best serious face, one that had fooled enemy and ally alike for years. Sadly, the little emoticon determined to give away his real attitude was busy falling over laughing. Thankfully, Genma couldn’t see that to be annoyed about it.
He slipped backward out from under Balfour, and then moved completely off the bed, bending down to retrieve his bandanna as he did so. He continued speaking as he tied it back on his head, the metal plate in the back and the knot in the front as usual.
“Stretch out and get comfortable, and we’ll do a little experiment to see if that’s the issue,” he said, mildly.
Thankfully for Genma, Balfour hadn’t noticed the face above his head, too busy internally freaking out (panicking emote giving that away) to think about why it would be laughing like that. Instead of letting on about his nervousness, he gave a sassy smirk and stretched out on the bed, pointing his toes and stretching his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders to crack a knot that had gotten in there.
“Oh? What experiment?”
He was worried, yes, but he’d give Genma the benefit of the doubt. Izumo trusted him, after all, so he should.
He just hoped he wasn’t wrong.
There were certain things for Genma to consider, of course. The way Balfour had twitched away from him that time in the kitchen before, and Izumo’s comment about the young man having been a virgin when they met. He didn’t know how hard Izumo had pushed Balfour, but he did know that Izumo’s behavior with him had seemed... almost a letting go of something pent up.
That made him wonder a little how softly this young lover of Izumo’s was being treated.
So when he took a step back toward the bed, he leaned over it rather than crawling on, avoiding trapping the young man.
His expression was still serious as he moved in close, his eyes on Balfour’s and his face nearly close enough to kiss. His hand slid up into Balfour’s hair again, touch very gentle.
“You sure you’re comfortable?” he asked. “No... kink in your back now?”
“Nope, no kinks in my back,” he said lightly, still grinning up at Genma. He didn’t press up against the hand in his hair, though, nor did he lean up for kisses. He was nervous and Genma’s attitude was only making him more nervous.
But he seemed like a decent guy, like someone who wouldn’t take advantage of him for an answer. Despite his rather obvious nerves, he was allowing the experiment to continue.
“Now what are you going to do to me?” he purred. “Am I going to like it or am I going to have to slap you?”
“You’d slap me, would you?” Genma asked, sounding a little dubious about it. He could feel the young man’s nervous tension, and he had to admit that it was... interesting. He could almost envy Izumo a little.
He licked his lips, his tongue lingering over one of the scars Balfour had been so curious about on their first meeting, the movement intended to remind the man of the kiss they’d shared before.
“As for whether you’ll like it, that’s what we’re testing, isn’t it?” Genma asked. His hand was extra gentle for a second in Balfour’s hair, and then he gave a single quick pull.
Balfour tensed as his hair was pulled, eyes wide, his lip between his teeth. Nerves rang through his body at the tug of his hair, but even still, a treacherous blush creeped into his cheeks. Yes, he did like that. He was just afraid to show it.
The grin that crept over Genma’s face was perhaps a little more intense than the expressions he let people see from him most of the time. There was a bit of the real hunger he had shown with Izumo in it.
He carefully kept his upper body held away from Balfour, not pressing into him, even as he leaned close enough to brush lips against his cheek.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, amused and more than a little tempted to pull again. He didn’t, but he kept his fingers wrapped around the short locks, as if he might change his mind.
“What’s what you thought?” he asked, looking at him curiously, leaning up slightly into the kiss, turning his face to brush his lips against Genma’s gently. He had no idea, but he figured flirting wasn’t out of the game quite yet.
Genma raised an eyebrow, honestly surprised that Balfour hadn’t understood. He was a little surprised at that kiss, as well, but that was a pleasant surprise.
He released his grip on Balfour’s hair, then ruffled it. “That was not a negative reaction to having your hair pulled, now was it?”
The grin was definitely edging on a leer. “I’ll keep it in mind... just in case.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he said softly, shifting on an elbow, leaning up a little closer, his whole body inviting more. His other hand, the one that wasn’t supporting his weight, slipped up to Genma’s neck, winding around the back of it to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at a lock at the back of his head.
“What, are you planning on having your dirty little way with me?” He grinned, looking for all the world like a confident young man. The emote above his head was trembling, though.
That thing would ruin his game of pretending like he was okay.
“My ‘way’ is neither dirty nor little,” Genma said, his tone utterly casual. His head tipped back just a little at the tug to his hair, but he didn’t allow any other response. The little trembling image was in his peripheral vision, and he wondered again what it was, where it came from, whether it could be trusted.
Balfour was doing a very good job of seeming comfortable. Izumo’s student.
The information Genma was looking for, here, was coming at him pretty easily. Of course, a part of it was just a curiosity about how Balfour would respond to him, if he did decide to... attempt something there. But he was wondering too about the emotions he’d thought he’d seen from Balfour before, and Izumo’s comments about him.
The image about his own head had that thoughtful look again.
He closed the distance between their mouths and kissed Balfour, hard.
“Oh, no, I doubt it’s little at all,” Balfour said with a quirk of the brow, looking embarrassed to say something like that and all too glad to busy his mouth with the kiss, groaning into it as he returned it passionately, his fingers tangling, clenching, but not pulling. No pulling. Pulling was bad.
Izumo had taught him that.
The little trembling image stopped trembling after a moment and started blushing again, just as Balfour let out another soft little noise.
Well, at least the kiss was welcomed.
Damn, the kid could kiss, Genma thought. He was still holding back a little, despite the intensity of the kiss, and he didn’t rest his weight on the younger man, despite that hand at the back of his neck that made it easy to want to move forward.
The image was there in his mind for a second, of simply sinking into the near-stranger’s bed, pressing his body over Balfour’s and giving himself over to the moment.
It was a nice image. It was also about as likely as him suddenly giving up fighting.
His muscles tensed with the effort of holding back, though, even as he pressed deeper into the kiss itself, as if not intending to break it off until Balfour did. That was, after all, what he was testing.
Balfour let out another quiet noise, leaning up closer when Genma refused to come down to him, managing to get their shoulders pressed together even though he couldn’t get him any closer.
He wanted more, that much was clear, but he was nervous about pressing for more. Most of the reason he was even going along with it at all was because it was safe. Sure, the kiss was great, but it was also safe because Genma was...Genma. And Balfour had no feelings for him.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d end up falling for Genma. At least that was more possible than Izumo. After all, Genma wasn’t exactly a known playboy.
Genma held his shoulders rigid for a moment after Balfour leaned up toward him, and then very deliberately relaxed, letting his upper body press down over Balfour. He placed one knee on the bed, balancing himself, and then slid his hand up to play in Balfour’s hair again.
He backed off from the kiss enough to nip at Balfour's lips, lightly, and then spoke against them.
“You were pretty nervous there for a moment,” he accused, almost gently.
He hummed in appreciation as Genma relaxed and pressed his body down over him, going with it until he was back on his elbow again, his hips shifting, knee raising slightly to make himself more comfortable underneath him.
“I wasn’t sure what you were going to do,” he murmured in return, just accepting the fact that he was bad at pretending things were okay. Izumo had told him several times that he was a bad liar, after all.
“And what is it you think I’m going to do now?” Genma asked, his lips sliding across Balfour’s face. He allowed himself another slight tug at Balfour’s hair, now, amused and curious.
He thought he had made it clear that Balfour would need to get to know him quite a bit better, the first time they met. Then again, he supposed this little game could be considered giving mixed signals. He really didn’t know what Izumo had been teaching Balfour, beyond ‘many kinky things.’
He didn’t know if Balfour understood this was a game.
Balfour’s face turned up under the kisses and he gave a pleased little purr--the quiet hum could be called nothing else--smiling into the brushes of the lips.
“The kisses are nice,” he said softly. “But really, I don’t know what you’re going to do. I suppose that’s the fun of it.”
He didn’t know whether he was being played with or not, but he definitely knew that sex with the man wasn’t in the cards, at least not yet. He did remember that he wasn’t into sex with strangers. As for Balfour, he wasn’t sure he could do more than kissing with Genma, either.
“You could tell me about those sisters of yours.”
Genma laughed, though there was a bit of real surprise in the way the sound puffed from his lips. He shifted backward, then slid his knees under him at the edge of the bed, so that he was perched there.
“You’re...” He really couldn’t think of a proper word for it though. He’d been quite sure that he was going to get to leave the kid panting, and then... well, that.
He laughed again, shook his head, and reached down to retrieve his senbon from his pocket.
Balfour chuckled, shifting on the bed to scoot up against the wall, pulling one of his little pillows to hold as his knees drew up to his chest. Yes, he was hiding the fact that Genma had left him wanting. It was better that way.
“Come up on the bed. I’m not going to bite. You’ll fall off if you sit there,” he said with a quiet laugh, nodding to the place next to him. “I promise. No biting.”
A pause.
“Unless you want me to.”
That would have been much smoother had he not paused.
Genma couldn’t stop the burst of laughter. He leaned back dramatically, not even having to use chakra to maintain his balance on the edge of the bed.
“I’m a ninja. You’d have to throw me for a bigger loop than that if you expect me to go falling off things.”
He scooted in anyway, though he didn’t flop all over Balfour as he had earlier. Besides, Balfour’s posture wasn’t inviting such things, not now. He’d closed it up when Genma moved, and the shinobi found himself wondering if Balfour thought he was in some way uncomfortable. That wasn’t really the case.
He graciously ignored the slight clumsiness of Balfour’s attempt at teasing. “Biting can be nice sometimes. Preferably not right after bringing up my family though.”
“Oh, no, that’s definitely not the best time to be biting,” he said softly, shaking his head, still in good humor despite the way he was curled up against the wall with the pillow in his lap. He laid his face on the soft material.
“So? I’ll tell you about mine if you’ll tell me about yours.”
Genma shrugged his shoulders. He thought about explaining that talking about personal things was a little too intimate when a moment before he’d been... playing with Balfour, if without any particular malice.
He didn’t say it. Instead, he scooted a little more, until he was sitting next to the other man, and leaned his head back against the wall. The metal plate at the back of his bandanna made a slight clink as it impacted.
“They were twins. Did I tell you that before?”
He didn’t remember. He knew he’d mentioned them, at least.
“No, you didn’t,” he said, shifting to get more comfortable, smiling softly at the idea of twins. Twins were supposedly fun to have as siblings. He’d known a set of them, always playing pranks in ‘Versity. He wondered, briefly, what had happened to them.
“What were they like?”
Of course, there was only so much Genma would say. But he’d learned quite a bit about making himself seem like an open book when he wasn’t one, too. And he was trying to be friendly.
A soft smile came to his lips, and that was completely genuine.
“I mentioned them when we were cooking, somewhat. They were... different. They looked just alike when they wanted to, but the rest of the time... Emiko was into all the domestic things, and Sumiko definitely wasn’t. They were both amazing fighters though. They had... different kinds of strength. For example, Sumiko knew everything there was to know about being a shinobi, from various protocols to jutsu to fighting moves. But Emiko had this power and energy about her... she had a sort of spirit that overwhelms a lot of that stuff.”
He realized belatedly that most people probably didn’t talk about their siblings professionally instead of personally right away, and laughed. “They were quite a bit older than me, and Emiko did a lot of the raising of me, actally.”
Balfour smiled, filing away the information for later, conversation material. His sisters didn’t seem anything like Carina, but then Carina hadn’t had much of a chance to be more than what she was. The only thing that Carina had in common with Emiko and Sumiko was the fact that she was strong--much stronger than many people would guess.
“They sound quite interesting,” he said, nodding to himself. “And they were in the same profession?”
Genma frowned, trying to think how to explain it.
“They sometimes worked together. They started out on different teams, when they were younger, and then discovered they fought well together and started getting assigned together. Emiko was a very good scout, and later a decent healer, but Sumiko...”
He shrugged, then slid his eyes to the side, watching Balfour’s face for a reaction.
“Amazing assassin. I learned everything I know about poisons from her.”
The thinky face popped up over Balfour’s head as he smiled, nodding a little more at the information.
“They sound great. Must have been great to have older sisters like that to learn from. I wish I could meet them.” He raised his eyebrows a bit, shrugging. “They don’t sound anything like my little sister, not really.”
But then, how could they? Emiko and Sumiko were warriors. His baby sister had been a sickly aristocrat.
“It was awesome,” Genma agreed, leaning his head back a little more and closing his eyes. The rest of his senses went on alert as soon as he did so, of course, but he didn’t give any sign of it. The little emoticon above his head, however, suddenly had very wide eyes, as if startled awake.
“They knew a lot of fun games, and would usually let me tag along when I shouldn’t have. I probably wouldn’t have graduated as early as I did if not for them.” Then he raised one shoulder, lowered it. “Later, it was terrible of course. I wished there were someone in my family who was a civilian, for a while.”
Balfour hid a smile in his pillow when Genma’s emote suddenly became alert. It was enough to tell him that Genma, despite the fact that he was closing his eyes and pretending to relax, was doing just that--pretending.
“I can understand that. The military is hard on families.” He didn’t know about having two older siblings who were military, but having a brother who was, a brother you were expected to be just like, was terrible.