Many people, upon meeting Maito Gaia, would dismiss her as a lunatic - a grinning, amiable idiot, who was jounin due only to her freakish physical capabilities. Others, more paranoid, decided that no one could POSSIBLY be that eccentric and strange, and that the whole thing was an elaborate, complex facade that hid Gaia's true plans - which were
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She reminded herself that things had to be taken one step at a time. Right now, the first step was to get him to Tsurude.
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(Those white eyes though, he wouldn't forget those white eyes.)
He followed behind Sachiko because Sachiko was pulling him, and he had no reason to say no. At first. And then they passed a small, gaudy shop on the main street, with shiny things, and Tentsuke pulled away without a second thought. He plastered himself against the window like a small hungry child peering at a candystore, and drooling about as much ( ... )
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With a quick flick of his wrist he flung it upwards, eyes wide as it flipped end over end and laughing with pure, artless glee as he caught it easily by his fingertips, rolling the kunai over the backs of his knuckles like a cardsharp playing with a deck of playing cards.
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"Tentsuke, we gotta go. Plus, you don't want that touristy shit." She knew about this merchant and what he did to get his weapons. She also knew enough about Tentsuke to know that he'd rather melt down an inferior weapon rather than sell it, even to a civilian.
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Kiba could see now, watching critically, how he was changed. His face was off, his gaze far away. His body was too thin- he needed to be fattened up. And he was still not really responding them, going on autopilot almost. It hurt Kiba for a brief moment, but she shook it away. He would be fine- she had to believe that, and did believe that. They had Tsurude, and Kureno, both of whom could help. They just had to get him to Tsurdue.
"Yeah, fun to play with, but no good," Kiba grinned to him, hand lightly touching his shoulder. "I'm Kiba by the way."
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He dropped the shuriken too, and stared at Kiba with unrecognizing, wary eyes.
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"You bleed on it, you buy it," the shopkeeper informed them.
Sachiko fixed him with a vicious glare. "Here's a thought, Owner-san," she began as she put her bandage roll away. "You can either be paid what it's actually worth, or you can keep it and call it a 'blooded weapon' or some shit and jack up the price even more." She didn't care if blood was a biohazard, but she wasn't paying his inflated prices for junk.
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He eyed the new girl, the one who had touched his shoulder, warily, hunching his shoulders slightly like one of Kiba's own dogs when it was unsure of itself. Unlike with Sachiko and white-eyed Hinaji, there was no bleeding-over of memories and emotions, so all he saw was a stranger. (the pain may have had something to do with it.)
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