naruto: "even" (2/2)
Title: Even, Part II
Genre: General, Introspective
Characters/Pairings: Genma, Yuugao
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: [ Bitter Cup] Genma can't imagine he'd ever get sent to rescue a team of ANBU.
Chapter Summary: Genma goes to see Yuugao in the hospital -- after all, he does owe her the favor.
Notes: Written in March 08. Set after Rescue.
ff.net x aff.net
The hospital was among Genma's least favorite places to be -- it was right up there on the list with the Academy and compromising situations. Genma had managed, successfully, to avoid the hospital completely for all of seven months by now, but the only things that could bring him to set foot in the hospital for any real length of time, short of a serious injury on his own person, was someone he intended to visit.
He didn't even visit people in the hospital that often. His friends, these days, were few, nor did they tend to wind up in the hospital much -- Raidou was a walking brick wall, and Genma swore that Aoba possessed some sort of gods-blessed dumb luck that had him walking away clean from all but the nastiest of missions. Genma could remember, though, how he'd stayed in the hospital for weeks on end after the Kyuubi attack -- stayed of his own free will, keeping Raidou sane while the medics tried to put his face back together.
But Yuugao wasn't Raidou -- she wasn't even close. Genma had barely met her more than once -- which begged the question of why he was taking time out of his evening, after he'd only returned from the mission earlier that day, to venture into the hospital to see her.
Genma supposed it had something to do with evening the score. She'd saved his ass and then visited him in the hospital, once, so why shouldn't he do the same for her? Besides, she might not even have other friends or family to visit her. An injured shinobi should always have visitors, whether they were welcome or not. Genma was convinced that his invasive presence in Raidou's hospital room had been one of the few things that pulled the man through that hellish time after the Kyuubi attack.
The sterile white room was suffocatingly silent when Genma stepped inside -- he didn't bother knocking, as the door was already cracked open. Yuugao was already looking towards the door -- she'd probably sensed his chakra from the hallway. ANBU is ANBU, on duty or off. Nevertheless, there was a faint look of surprise behind her eyes. Genma just grinned lazily and leaned against the doorway, cocking the senbon in his mouth upwards.
"Remember me?"
Yuugao blinked twice -- she had thick lashes, Genma noticed. "Genma-san." Her voice was slightly questioning, but affirming at the same. She pushed herself into a sitting position slowly, her long sheet of hair falling into pieces over her shoulders and back. Her arms were bare, just as pale as her face save for the scarlet tattoo on her right bicep and the dark bruises that formed scattered patterns on her skin. Both hands were in bandages, and Genma could spot more than one finger splint beneath them. It was hard to tell if she had any leg injuries beneath the stiff hospital blanket.
"Not looking too bad, for less than a day after your admission," Genma offered, pulling himself away from the wall. He stuck his foot out toward the doorway, in a gestured offer. "Want me to shut the door?"
Yuugao nodded, almost distantly. Genma pulled the door in with his foot, watching her face for the realization that had already unfolded there -- she'd probably suspected it from the moment she recognized him. Her white face was the only part of her that seemed to have escaped injury, protected as it had been by her mask -- all features left intact, like the china doll she seemed to resemble. It only made her look more delicate.
"Seems like you were the lucky one," Genma added as he ambled over to her bed. "Almost got away clean."
Yuugao looked down, examining the bruises on her arms. "It looks that way," she said, and Genma thought he detected a wry tone in her voice, "but two broken ribs, one sprained knee, and puncture wounds in several places isn't too close to clean." She flexed her fingers experimentally. "But it's close enough. Yuuki-senpai went into surgery today, I heard. He took worse injuries than I did."
Genma nodded, a bit distantly. "We didn't get there quick enough to save your other teammates," he said, frankly and unabashedly as he usually spoke. No doubt by now that Yuugao must have realized that she and Yuuki were the only survivors of that mission. "Sorry." It was a short apology, but it was sincere.
Yuugao just offered a slightly bitter smile, resting her bandaged hands over her lap. "There's no need to apologize. It happens. I didn't know them well." It was a poor justification -- a selfish one -- but one that shinobi used often. The words fell loosely from her rouge lips, her hands spread over her lap as if to catch them like small drops of water from a dripping tap. Genma couldn't think of anything useful or pertinent to say right away, and so a pregnant silence hung between them, suspended in the thin air of the hospital room, before Yuugao spoke again.
"Why did you come here?"
Genma shrugged glibly. "You came to visit me after you saved my ass, last year." He rolled the senbon between his lips before cocking it upward as he grinned. "I figured I ought to return the favor."
Yuugao smiled again, just a little, but it wasn't quite the tragic smile Genma had come to associate with her face. It was something a little warmer, a little fuller. Genma wasn't sure which one he preferred. "Thank you, Genma-san."
Genma didn't know exactly how old she was, but the way she kept addressing him, he figured she had to be at least a couple of years younger than him. That or she was just being respectful. "Shall we call it even, then?" he asked, holding out his hand. Yuugao looked down at her bandage hands, raising one tentatively with a cocked eyebrow at Genma. She placed her better hand -- the one without any finger splints -- against Genma's, and the man just looked down at her with a kind of cynical amusement as she shook his hand.
"You should get some rest," he told her after a moment, an ironic smile twisting his lips. "So you can heal up and get back on the field."
Yuugao could tell he was laughing behind those lazy eyes of his, and she looked at him intently for a moment in bemusement. Genma just watched the realization dawn on her face for the second time -- it was something oddly interesting to watch, on her -- and finally, she laughed aloud. It was quiet, nothing more than a breath accompanied by a smile, but it was something, Genma thought. "Thank you, Genma-san," she said, again, placing her hand back on her lap. There was something sharp and demure about the way she moved, grace with practicality. Genma just let his arm drop to his side, shaking his head.
"Just call it even," he said again, before he turned and left the room. He had little doubt that Yuugao was more tired than she let on, and he would let her rest as she had done for him. His feet quickly carried him out of the hospital without much thought at all, and he headed back home, feeling strangely satisfied.
Genre: General, Introspective
Characters/Pairings: Genma, Yuugao
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: [ Bitter Cup] Genma can't imagine he'd ever get sent to rescue a team of ANBU.
Chapter Summary: Genma goes to see Yuugao in the hospital -- after all, he does owe her the favor.
Notes: Written in March 08. Set after Rescue.
ff.net x aff.net
The hospital was among Genma's least favorite places to be -- it was right up there on the list with the Academy and compromising situations. Genma had managed, successfully, to avoid the hospital completely for all of seven months by now, but the only things that could bring him to set foot in the hospital for any real length of time, short of a serious injury on his own person, was someone he intended to visit.
He didn't even visit people in the hospital that often. His friends, these days, were few, nor did they tend to wind up in the hospital much -- Raidou was a walking brick wall, and Genma swore that Aoba possessed some sort of gods-blessed dumb luck that had him walking away clean from all but the nastiest of missions. Genma could remember, though, how he'd stayed in the hospital for weeks on end after the Kyuubi attack -- stayed of his own free will, keeping Raidou sane while the medics tried to put his face back together.
But Yuugao wasn't Raidou -- she wasn't even close. Genma had barely met her more than once -- which begged the question of why he was taking time out of his evening, after he'd only returned from the mission earlier that day, to venture into the hospital to see her.
Genma supposed it had something to do with evening the score. She'd saved his ass and then visited him in the hospital, once, so why shouldn't he do the same for her? Besides, she might not even have other friends or family to visit her. An injured shinobi should always have visitors, whether they were welcome or not. Genma was convinced that his invasive presence in Raidou's hospital room had been one of the few things that pulled the man through that hellish time after the Kyuubi attack.
The sterile white room was suffocatingly silent when Genma stepped inside -- he didn't bother knocking, as the door was already cracked open. Yuugao was already looking towards the door -- she'd probably sensed his chakra from the hallway. ANBU is ANBU, on duty or off. Nevertheless, there was a faint look of surprise behind her eyes. Genma just grinned lazily and leaned against the doorway, cocking the senbon in his mouth upwards.
"Remember me?"
Yuugao blinked twice -- she had thick lashes, Genma noticed. "Genma-san." Her voice was slightly questioning, but affirming at the same. She pushed herself into a sitting position slowly, her long sheet of hair falling into pieces over her shoulders and back. Her arms were bare, just as pale as her face save for the scarlet tattoo on her right bicep and the dark bruises that formed scattered patterns on her skin. Both hands were in bandages, and Genma could spot more than one finger splint beneath them. It was hard to tell if she had any leg injuries beneath the stiff hospital blanket.
"Not looking too bad, for less than a day after your admission," Genma offered, pulling himself away from the wall. He stuck his foot out toward the doorway, in a gestured offer. "Want me to shut the door?"
Yuugao nodded, almost distantly. Genma pulled the door in with his foot, watching her face for the realization that had already unfolded there -- she'd probably suspected it from the moment she recognized him. Her white face was the only part of her that seemed to have escaped injury, protected as it had been by her mask -- all features left intact, like the china doll she seemed to resemble. It only made her look more delicate.
"Seems like you were the lucky one," Genma added as he ambled over to her bed. "Almost got away clean."
Yuugao looked down, examining the bruises on her arms. "It looks that way," she said, and Genma thought he detected a wry tone in her voice, "but two broken ribs, one sprained knee, and puncture wounds in several places isn't too close to clean." She flexed her fingers experimentally. "But it's close enough. Yuuki-senpai went into surgery today, I heard. He took worse injuries than I did."
Genma nodded, a bit distantly. "We didn't get there quick enough to save your other teammates," he said, frankly and unabashedly as he usually spoke. No doubt by now that Yuugao must have realized that she and Yuuki were the only survivors of that mission. "Sorry." It was a short apology, but it was sincere.
Yuugao just offered a slightly bitter smile, resting her bandaged hands over her lap. "There's no need to apologize. It happens. I didn't know them well." It was a poor justification -- a selfish one -- but one that shinobi used often. The words fell loosely from her rouge lips, her hands spread over her lap as if to catch them like small drops of water from a dripping tap. Genma couldn't think of anything useful or pertinent to say right away, and so a pregnant silence hung between them, suspended in the thin air of the hospital room, before Yuugao spoke again.
"Why did you come here?"
Genma shrugged glibly. "You came to visit me after you saved my ass, last year." He rolled the senbon between his lips before cocking it upward as he grinned. "I figured I ought to return the favor."
Yuugao smiled again, just a little, but it wasn't quite the tragic smile Genma had come to associate with her face. It was something a little warmer, a little fuller. Genma wasn't sure which one he preferred. "Thank you, Genma-san."
Genma didn't know exactly how old she was, but the way she kept addressing him, he figured she had to be at least a couple of years younger than him. That or she was just being respectful. "Shall we call it even, then?" he asked, holding out his hand. Yuugao looked down at her bandage hands, raising one tentatively with a cocked eyebrow at Genma. She placed her better hand -- the one without any finger splints -- against Genma's, and the man just looked down at her with a kind of cynical amusement as she shook his hand.
"You should get some rest," he told her after a moment, an ironic smile twisting his lips. "So you can heal up and get back on the field."
Yuugao could tell he was laughing behind those lazy eyes of his, and she looked at him intently for a moment in bemusement. Genma just watched the realization dawn on her face for the second time -- it was something oddly interesting to watch, on her -- and finally, she laughed aloud. It was quiet, nothing more than a breath accompanied by a smile, but it was something, Genma thought. "Thank you, Genma-san," she said, again, placing her hand back on her lap. There was something sharp and demure about the way she moved, grace with practicality. Genma just let his arm drop to his side, shaking his head.
"Just call it even," he said again, before he turned and left the room. He had little doubt that Yuugao was more tired than she let on, and he would let her rest as she had done for him. His feet quickly carried him out of the hospital without much thought at all, and he headed back home, feeling strangely satisfied.