Unread postby AntiNaba » January 5th, 2010, 6:38 am
It was chilly in the mornings of Konoha, at least by Kojira's standards. The air lacked the humidity to trap the heat, but kept the air to evaporate what little sweat remained on his skin. He would rather the temperature remain at blood temperature, or even slightly less, to make it easier for him to relax.
It would be better, because it would make it so much easier for him to break his concentration about how he would manage his sister. Just thinking about her was enough to distract him from thinking about her, as ironically as it seemed. He would get the urge to trace over old wounds, the twin scars of necrotic tissue flanking his spine, the healed lines of fractures he had sustained at her hands, old pains, old coughs, old nerves twitching in alarm. He didn't need that kind of distraction.
The sun had risen not long ago, but he could tell by the way that rays seems clouded in the distance that she was coming. Anyone who knew Kojira would be able to tell you the ways he worried: Scratching his cheek, grinding his teeth, finding a tree and flicking balls of resin off the bark. Few had seen him scared for his life. He would breath in through his teeth, he would finger his knives, his augments would flare.
This was new. This was the first time his eyes had ever bulged slightly, his pupils daggers as they rapidly scanned the forest and the road. His teeth were constantly chewing, his face unflinching, his feet switching stances every few seconds, his skin was cold and pale, and if one were so inclined to press ones ear to the back of his Jounin vest, you would hear the low whining of his augments running full tilt.
Kuroda Kojira, Master of the Dead-that-wander-aimlessly, container of wanderering spirits, Jounin with a mastery in Suiton and Doton jutsu, deadly, silent and possessed of a cruel and brutal cunning that made him the end of so many ninja, was stone-cold terrified.
Kumiko was late.
No.
... No, she wasn't.
... Kumiko was never late. She just never made sure to be seen was she arrived on time. And when you waited, you became impatient, frustrated, worried, fretful. You let your mind attempt to figure out the whys and wherefores, and you let your guard do-
It was almost a dance, the way he withdrew his lower back blade and spun to strike behind him with enough force to cleave a man in half (Something he had personally failed to achieve). Obsidian-laced steel clashed with its ilk, and in the rush of adrenaline, Kojira saw his sister's grim face light up into the smallest of smiles. She was balanced precariously with her blade against his, her legs reaching for the air, almost frozen in her spring. Kojira spoke one word, knowing and hateful.
"Wall."
Kojira pushed the last of his swing and launched Kumiko off his blade through her own weapon. She landed lightly three metres away, sheethed her blade and nodded, her smile growing wider and wider as she saw his eyes blaze with the strangest combination of utter hatred and fierce pride.
Kojira, however, was taking in the differences in her size since he had left her so many years ago. Her ponytail had been shorn off, to reveal a thick frame of wavy brown hair that halted at her neck. She stood tall, as she always did, but now the difference between their height was even more pronounced, estimating that she would barely reach his collarbone on hightoes. Her eyes were still the insane shade of green, her mouth just as small and defined, her chin a little sharper, her posture a little more predatory. But it wasn't so in the way she held herself standing still, not through some hulking loom did she find that last effect. It was in the way she moved, her mouth opening and closing, neck hinting of a pounce to rip and bite through your carotid. It was in the way she stared, watching you, sizing you up, dismissing you not out of arrogance, but out of analysis. She was staring at Kojira, too, obviously deducting the advantages she now possessed, lithe and oiled verses ponderous and powerful.
"You did not watch the wall."
Her voice was, given her reputation and grim nature, somewhat charming and pert, like a schoolteacher who was simply explaining a slight flaw in an otherwise perfect test answer. This did little to affect the image of a pyschopath that was slowly creeping up on the observers. No amount of kind voices could disguise the twitching.
"The wall is monitored by the village's elite forces from a central location, using a jutsu not entirely dissimiliar to our own kagesouhou technique." Kojira replied, curt and clipped.
"And that is an excuse... why?" Kumiko cocked her head, eyes still trained on her brothers face.
"Your intrusion would have been noted, and the activity would have clued me in."
"But there was no activity."
"You've already negated it?"
"At considerable exertion, brother. A rather wonderful way to start the morning."
"Then you have been in the vicinity since last night."
"But of course."
Brother and sister, twin and twin considered each other, and the meaning behind their words. Kojira broke the silence and turned to the side, bowing his way towards the gate.
"My house, while modest, has been prepared for your arrival, imouto-ue. If it is not to your satisfaction..."
Kumiko grinned, and suddenly her resemblance to her brother was crystal clear. "Oh, it won't be."
Did I flinch? I hope I didn't. Kojira stamped down on his thoughts, "In any case, welcome to Konoha."
Grinning immensely, Kumiko turned to pass through the gates. Kojira followed behind, trying not to envision the future.