The Fluorescence of Falling Snow [PRV]

[Higeki Tenko]

It was cold.

Lines of white drew their way across the tight-fitted vest of black that Tenko hugged a minute amount tighter to her frame. She refused to shiver and it took only her force of will - as well as her teeth dragging across the chapped bottom of her lip - to force that stubbornness into being recognized as reality. Low, soft breaths panted through her nose and fogged the air before her, pace of her feet slowing to what could almost be deemed a crawl. A stray hand detached itself from the inviting warmth of her jacket sleeve and lifted to her cap, moving to pull it down snugly and shield the rim of her ears; this time she couldn't help the slightest rattle of her teeth, locking her jaw with a cold glare towards no creature but herself.

Her arm returned dotted with flecks of snow that had begun its gentle descent just a short while ago, trapping the young shinobi-in-training in an environment she wasn't quite suited for. She shook off the weather and huddled into her frame once more, coming to a full stop with a shuffle and sway of her feet. Shuriken cuts? Kunai nicks? The occasional headache after Genjutsu? These she could handle. Third degree burns? Injecting herself with weak toxins? Three day self-imposed survival missions? A routine regime!

This, however, was her undoing. The snowflakes that billowed around her short, lithe form quickly became the hardest opponent she had faced ye - snff. Snnnffff --

Achoo!

She quickly shook this abrupt interrupt off with a literal flail of her head and a wipe of her sleeve across her nose - bweh. The climate in Kumo was gloomy and even downright frigid at times, sure, but those storm clouds above rarely acted upon their desires to pelt the poor denizens of the Cloud Village with any such precipitation. An aspiring battle-hardened maiden or not, Tenko hadn't had the chance to adjust or build up an immunity towards changes in the weather. The effects were quick, and ... bothersome.

Another wipe of her nose with an inward grumble and she urged her feet onward once again, ignoring the cold biting away at her exposed toes. The weather had befuddled her so much she had wandered indirectly into Kumogakure's own Entertainment District; only to make matters worse, as the girl had also rarely perused this side of town. She wasn't only cold and uncomfortable, she was lost.

Well, it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. The key difference here being, of course, that she wasn't surrounded by creatures to hunt for meat or caverns in the mountain rock to hole away in. Just ... loud people and loud ... establishments.

Instinct kicked in and she quickly ducked into the first opening she happened across, just to get out of the snow and into whatever light poured from the doorway.

[MFT 12/17 - 12/24]

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

A cloud with legs bound it's way through the blanket of purity, creating giant holes as it dived in and out. Ever the pup Kumo enjoyed each fresh snowfall as if it was his first, with a snout pressed without fear into the ground and teeth that snapped at the flakes as they fell onto his nose or in his eyes. He was a ridiculous sight to behold. A constant geyser of misted breath jettisoned from his mouth and nostrils while his ears worked overtime flicking back and forth to pick up the sounds of the busy district, head turning this way and then that way, backwards and then forwards. He loved this place. So many things to see, smell, hear, every day something new. Like tiny blonde children standing in doorways.

For a moment all movement in the animal ceased and he only stared at the blue-clothed child, the cap plunging her face into shadow as the light above her head beamed down. Then his head lowered, cautiously, as if gauging a threat and one paw was lifted into the air, ready to flee. It was then he felt the chill, while idle and unoccupied with the world around him, and that chill inspired him to move again. With large eager strides the dog loped right at the girl, tongue lolling from one side, ambiguous growls and half-barks booming from it's throat. Just as quickly as it had begun it's charge it seemed to change it's mind, and for a moment was unsure of what to do as it's body continued it's forward momentum while his head swung back to retreat and he fell, rolling in the snow snuffling. A moment later he was up again and happily leaping away.

Takeshi soon found himself with an overly excited ball of white and black fur, listening to the canine growl and pant and quietly howl it's way through the retelling of his short but enjoyable adventure up the street. A black gloved hand reached out to fuss Kumo's muzzle, a gesture that was responded to with an agreeable bark.

"We'd best go get her then." Was all Takeshi said to his companion before he followed the akita back to where he'd found their classmate.

Snug and warm in furs and leathers Takeshi didn't envy Tenko, dressed in her customary blue jacket and hat, open toed sandals, and shorts. Neither did he think her stupid, however. It was a good thing to expose yourself to the elements when they were at their worst, so long as one knew their limits. It built up a resistance, made one stronger for having endured. But she was lost. It wasn't hard to see. Never before had he seen her wandering the entertainment district on his walks with Kumo, and if she had a destination then surely she'd be heading toward it. If left out in the cold too long the effects of the bad weather against her unprotected body would begin to deteriorate it, she'd grow sick, weak. That was unacceptable.

Kumo ran right up to her again, this time without falling over and running away and sat in front of her, panting with pleased deep gusts. He peered up at Takeshi expectantly as he approached, then returned his attention to Tenko.

"Lost?" Takeshi's face moved only to form words, snow clinging to his hair and furs, making him look like an old gray bear with a human head. The hilt of his sword poked out from beneath his cloak and he placed a hand on his dogs head to show they were together. "Kumo wants me to show you the way back."

 

[Higeki Tenko]

Ku ... mo?

The moment that cacophony of excitable noises so much as teased the edges of Tenko's ears she was on her guard, the cold both momentarily yet entirely forgotten within those few seconds of surveyal her reflexes kicked into. A sharpened gaze broke through the crust of frost forming over her alert expression, the stony lines now grim and serious as opposed to frozen into her features. Aching fingers slid over the compartment of her ninja toolbelt, a set of kunai no more than a flick of her thumb away. She stood - rigid - within a doorway she hadn't quite entered, earning absolutely no attention from the merry residents within. The smells of lavish foods and raunchy entertainment tickled her nostrils, earning a twitch of her nose but not a single diversion of her senses.

All of this to say she was ready to slay any beast that had the misfortune of targeting her that evening. It was likely the discombobulation caused by the unfamiliar weather and the unfamiliar surroundings that led to such a defensive reaction when she should have not only recognized the sounds but realized she was in the middle of the village, away from any typical dangers. Still, as she slowly melted out of her guarded stance, she had to feel a small sense of pride at the speed of her response towards something unfamiliar - even if it turned out to be a puppy.

Okay, she felt silly.

"Hey -," she began, no less tense than ever but no longer ready to skewer the poor creature. It was all she could get out before Kumo turned, stumbled, fell - and then bolted the direction he came, leaving Tenko to slowly remember the cold creeping across her skin. She blinked once - twice - then exhaled, the softest of sighs that barely left her lips before the dog rounded the corner once again. This time with his owner.

Tenko stood straighter, focusing more of her efforts than before on ignoring the biting chill. She had to remind herself this was good training, even if impromptu - she had no right to complain and therefor wouldn't, but she also wouldn't be caught simpering by an equal. She'll deal with this problem - subconsciously - the same way she did every time something felt "tough" or "hard" or "emotionally traumatic" - stuff it in a box then tape it up around yourself.

No therapy like exposure therapy!

She stepped out of the gaudy, glowing archway and away from the merriment inside to address the man who had come to address her; a fellow classmate, she remembered, and one not without her respects. Takeshi Takahashi, he was her senior by an odd few years but no higher in the ranks of the village than she - he put a notable effort, similar to her own, into everything he did for the village as a ninja-in-training. It was hard not to feel a sense of kinship, regardless of it not quite leading to the warm and fuzzy feelings of friendship. Kumo, however, earned minutely more affectionate glances from the young kunoichi; everyone had their weaknesses and Tenko found a soft spot in animals. Especially ones as kind, cute and ... goofy, as this particular Ninken.

She wouldn't stand there like a deer in the headlights for long; contrarily, she met Takeshi's eyes with a measured gaze of her own and tilted her head forward in a polite bow. This caused her ponytail to bob with the movement back, shifting until her arms found themselves clasping her hands behind her. "Takahashi-san," she greeted him, her voice mirroring the evenness of her stare. "I ...,"

Tenko wasn't prideful enough to not realize when she needed help, just dedicated enough to chide herself when she realized that was the case. "I suppose I am, yes. The flurry sent me in a direction that isn't customary for me." A sly glance to the side offered Kumo a look of gratitude that was as much as she could muster before her sights returned to the man. "If you would be so kind."

So she stepped towards him, falling neatly in a rank-and-file placement to his side. "I'd very obliged for your assistance."

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

Before now Takeshi and Tenko had kept a polite distance, their regard for other people seemingly mutual, this was the first time either of them had approached the other for something that wasn't academy related. She and Kumo were on much friendlier terms though, if he wasn't with Takeshi on academy grounds he was with her; paying her a visit just to give her a quick sniff, find out if she'd been anywhere interesting, then he was off again to find his master. The way the little puffed-up ball of hair was running circles around them you'd think he'd just accomplished something great and exciting by getting his master to show her the way home. Once the sudden burst of energy had been spent and Tenko removed herself from the doorway Kumo began sniffing around her, as was his custom. Where have you been? Takeshi could almost hear the animal say. What did you do there?

The older boy nodded silently when she confessed her situation, expression solemn as always. There was no shame in admitting fault, only in refusing to do better next time. He could have criticized her for not being familiar with her surroundings, not knowing the ways in and out of a particular location. They'd both been here for a few years now and had had plenty of time to explore and learn, so there was little excuse for being lost. But nothing he could have said would have been worth the breath wasted. She already knew where the imperfection was, he guessed, and was already scolding herself for it. No need to stoke the flame. Instead he turned on his heel, a motion that prompted Kumo to do the same with a short hop and a low bark. "Understandable." He said.

Takeshi hadn't caught the look that Kumo received from the blonde child, but a few passive growls and snuffles from the beast and he was soon aware.

"Kumo seems to have taken a liking to you." The boy stated matter-of-factly, reaching out to stroke the animal in question as he bounded up to him. Then they were walking, heading back the way they had come, their feet grinding prints into the already freshly blanketed snow. The dog nipped and bit at it's masters gloved fingers, growling playfully and twisting his head. Takeshi gave Tenko a meaningful look over the rim of his fur collar, a single eyebrow raised.

"Not that that's difficult to achieve. Kumo likes everything." Kumo snorted in disagreement and a ghost of a smile found the boys lips. Again the little ball of snow that barked tried to grip it's teeth around one of Takeshi's fingers and the young man finally relented with a sigh, tearing one glove off, then the other, and allowing his companion to take both into his smug awaiting jaws.

"Taking advantage of the weather to build tolerance is smart. Not being prepared for it isn't." He flatlined as Kumo chewed and shook the snow off of the thick woolen gloves, creating a spray of half-melted flakes. "If you get frostbite the first things to go will be your fingers." Circling them again, and poking his snout into Tenko's palm, the pup brushed Takeshi's gloves against her digits, warming them with his breath.

 

[Higeki Tenko]

Tenko didn't boast any capacity for hurt feelings; her emotions were the first thing to have hardened about her, way back when. It was a need - even more pertinent than working muscles into her frail form and thickening her fair skin until it laid marred with its various scars and bruises was the reflexive instinct to block out the torrent of awful realizations that came with her situation. While arguably sociopathological it served its purpose in making her a better shinobi and from her new perspective that made this a "the end justifies the means" situation.

It also meant she could take her mistake at face value, accept it, and compartmentalize all her shame until it could be neatly dealt with. She internalized her failure to not only keep track of her surroundings but also somehow remain unaware of this section of the village despite her years spent in Kumogakure no Sato. The truth behind this folly was that she couldn't stand the sounds & the sights. The snow - as it billowed around and nipped at every bit of her exposed skin, as well as Kumo's excited frolicking - was more a blessing than anyone else would ever realize. They allowed her smaller points of focus, directing her sensitivity.

Tenko's pure dedication to the shinobi lifestyle offered her a variety of boons when it came to protecting herself, her village and, situationally, others; but this constant state of alertness had her almost bordering paranoia at all times. It was a very rare moment when she wasn't on her guard - when she wasn't prepared for the inevitability of some ... inexplicable event. It was, perhaps, one of her greatest weaknesses whilst also being her greatest strength - it proved easy to overload the senses of someone who used all of theirs at max capacity all of the time. It no longer wore her out in typical situations, not after all these years of training, but when exposed to the elements of a district that knew nothing but merriment and night life ...

She wasn't perfect. She just wanted to be. Not out of any desire to be better than anyone else, just to be better than who she was. A muscle in her jaw twitched as they began to walk, maintaining a safe but comfortable distance to Takeshi's side while humoring Kumo with various glances and mutely affectionate expressions thrown his way. The reaction was born from the the frost as it continued to eat away at her, something she was doing an astoundingly good job at both pointedly ignoring yet registering in increments all the same. It worked similar to stabbing your hand as a distraction from the knife through your skull, then pretending like you weren't currently mutilating yourself to better entertain your company.

She was being both polite and foolhardy, but what mattered to her was that she was trying. She was learning. Even now, she was adapting to the cold and would be better suited to deal with it in the future. It's never as bad as the first time you're exposed - like poisons, or true love. She took her breaths and kept them measured, quietly & subtly adjusting her jaw to keep her nose from leaking like a fool. She was better than a cold; if she wasn't, she could never call herself a Shinobi.

"He's well-trained," she spoke, for Takeshi's benefit as much as it was for Kumo's. There was little to stop that soft hint of endearment from lingering just under the tenor of her speech - the dog deserved it, though. He might not be on the level of the child soldiers when it came to emotional and physical warfare but he was a solid Ninken all around; and more than that, he made a fine friend. Those intermittent moments he'd spend with her throughout her days at the academy were a secret pleasure of hers, that little bit of kindness and normalcy she wouldn't and couldn't get anywhere else. She could tell, also, that he meant a great deal to his owner; after all, the two of them were practically inseparable, at least where Takeshi was concerned. She never saw her fellow ninja in anyone else's company.

Not that it was her place to comment or judge. As far as she was concerned, even if she couldn't quite frame it herself, the two shared a very similar perspective of the world. Her thoughts rose rather than wandered, a ladder of contemplation that kept advancing to new heights and ideas - as these "climbed" she almost reached out and pet Kumo, noticing him sniffing around her fingers. Almost. Tenko was never quite that comfortable, nor would she be that careless. The Ninken was not hers to indulge.

Her steps slowed briefly as Takeshi spoke, earning a curt but not impolite nod. "I agree. This was my mistake." She wouldn't argue with him, nor would her pride take any shots - it wouldn't make sense, seeing as he was completely right. It'd also look silly if she denied this specific issue while her cheeks grew increasingly more reddened. Just like earlier she would face her mistake and resolve to improve for the future; she welcomed the criticism more than she minded it, even if this would become ammo for those quiet cruelties later when she was alone. "I will be more prepared next time. Thank you for your concern - ?"

Her tone shifted questioningly before she could finish her declaration of gratitude, gloves pressed against her palm by a very kind dog - and his just as kind owner, if not of a more subtle nature. It was this confusion that slowed her acceptance of the gift, eventually relieving Kumo's maw of the woolen mitts and holding them in front of her; cupped precariously between her bone-white fingers. "... That's impractical, Takahashi-san. Now your hands will get cold."

It was the first time an emotion appeared in her words as more than an undercurrent: genuine perplexity.

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

"No," Takeshi responded, eyeing the pup that had never been taught a command in his life. "He's not." It was easy to see why people thought him trained. Kumo hadn't always been receptive to the orders and social cues of others, that was true, but neither had Takeshi tried to teach him any tricks or instill a sense of obedience in him. The "intelligence" that his dumb dog displayed was inherent. He seemed to know exactly what the people around him were saying and, stranger still, Takeshi had developed the ability to understand what Kumo was trying to say in return. Figuring out the growls and yips and barks was impossible, of course, but it was more than just listening and translating, it was simply knowing. He knew what Kumo was telling him, just as Kumo knew what Takeshi was saying and through that shared knowing they knew what other people were saying. It gave Takeshi an edge on the information gathering front; when a young boy in dark clothing stands inconspicuously close to a group of whispering ne'er-do-wells they know to move out of eartshot, but when a fluffy little black and white stray happens to be digging through the trash right next to them nobody pays it any mind.

Takeshi didn't peer over when her statement became a question mid-way through it's speaking, merely slowed to match her pace as the surprise hit her. Give me your gloves, you know she needs them. Had been the intent behind the playful noises the dog had made. Now the result of Takeshi's relent was apparent. Kumo had jumped and ran off the moment she'd taken the gloves from his jaws, vanishing into the snowy mist for a moment before he came pelting right back in front of them to see her reaction. If dogs could smile he'd have beamed.

"They will." Takeshi admitted, holding one of his now bare hands out in front of him for her inspection. Thick fingered from countless hours of gripping a sword hilt and striking dummies, with little nicks and cuts to tell the tales of his mistakes. Snowflakes fell gracefully into his palm and melted into the creases. A warm glow permeated his skin, compared to the whiteness of hers they were practically orange. Kumo sat just ahead of them as they meandered down the path, puffy white head tilted to one side as his tongue lolled and his smart bright eyes flicked between the two of his companions. Then he was off again. "But they're no colder than yours are right now; all stiff and clumsy. You probably couldn't even draw your kunai, let alone throw them. If this were not the village, instead a training exercise, it wouldn't do to have only one of us able to use their fingers."

Suddenly the cloak around Takeshi's shoulders slipped free and fell, revealing the stocky barrel-chested boy beneath and the form-fitting leather clothing he wore to protect himself. Tiny tufts of fur poked out from the cuffs and collars, and shifted as he whirled around on Kumo. The pup was struggling with the giant heap of hide and cloth, pulling it in different directions trying to get a good grip on it with his teeth. His master only watched, two dark brown eyes staring from beneath a furrowed brow as his pet made all sorts of sounds in his frustration. Now that he was more exposed it was easy to see that he wasn't quite fully grown yet; the sword hanging from his waist left a trail in the snow where it hung too low, and the cloak may have been big enough for a man, but to Takeshi it may as well have been a blanket.

Eventually the dog managed to bundle the furs up enough to carry most of the weight on his back, holding only a corner of the hem in his teeth. Happy with the success he trotted over to Tenko and bobbed the flapping garment up at her, tail swiping the air frantically.

Takeshi sighed, and attempted to hide his now flushed face behind one of his hands. "Forget it. Just stay warm, you get the point."

 

[Higeki Tenko]

She considered his words.

"You underestimate me, Takahashi-san." Her voice came low, even - impossibly so, considering the chill that had pervaded her teeth. In a flash a kunai was drawn from the notch in her pouch and held high between two flexing fingers, handled right before the both of them. It hurt - it hurt like hell, every muscle in her arm and digits straining to keep the action so mechanically precise. It held her bones taut, sharp enough to show through her razed skin and white knuckles. Even still, she didn't falter, didn't miss a beat or stumble a motion. She returned the ninja tool to its place and her eyes continued to show absolutely nothing. Not even a glimmer of the person inside. "I understand."

"This was my folly," she soldiered on as if nothing happened, feet continuing their gentle steps around Kumo's eccentric ... puppying. Her gaze returned to the gloves held tight in her other hand, the fire in her soul keeping the frostbite from quivering her grasp. A moment more of thought and she was pulling it over the hand she had just used, curling and uncurling the aching digits so grateful for a warmer home. With the other glove, however, she strode to Takeshi's side and handed it back to him. Her expression didn't change, not a feature out of place, but there was the softest waver to her voice; if you listened just hard enough. "I'll accept your help, but I won't allow you to pay the same due for my mistake. If it pleases you, we can both keep a single hand in working order."

A joke?

"We must be prepared for anything, after all." Less of one. She fell back a few strides, into her motions, and spent her attention focused on the small, excited dog. He expressed a wonderment for the snow and his surroundings that, deep down, Tenko could only envy. Even with Takeshi's earlier comment - denying that he was well trained - she refused to believe there wasn't value to both how & what he was. It was the little things. Tiny threads of good that hung this world of evil up and kept it all from crashing down. That's what Tenko considered Kumo, in a way, if she ever spent a little too much time thinking about it: good.

He then devolved into antics. At first, the way he acted with his master when he pestered away his gloves almost shocked her; it was partly that and partly a diluted sense of admiration and gratitude, though she'd weigh larger on the shock. A typical Ninken - especially one in a village such as this - wouldn't get away with something like that. Tenko, however, could tell that Kumo wasn't just a ninja's dog. He was a friend. This led to hidden amusement, rather than indignation, as he once more seemed to bully around Takeshi while tugging off that large, furred coat of his. Boys.

... Boys, indeed. Even she found her movements slowed as the man beneath the cloak was revealed to the world; her eyes caught on his short, lanky frame and the awkward aura he permeated with every motion he made. The sword he carried around hung a little too low for someone of his size, a quality you wouldn't really be able to note under all those furs. It was a very large shift in perspective, for her, as Takeshi could seem intimidating to strangers on a day-to-day basis. Now, however, Tenko could only find him ...

She bent down and relieved the wriggling dog of his burden, taking this chance now to cup the air against his cheek. She didn't touch him, pulling away before he could get the idea to press into her fingers, but in this one moment - a gentle look in her eyes, her tone dropping to a murmur - she looked at ease. She whispered, low enough that Takeshi wouldn't be able to pick up, and then allowed her words to be lost to time itself. In a blink she was up and moving again, the heavy weight of the male shinobi's coat coming bundled in her arms. It was only another moment before it was being slipped over his shoulders once again, covering his boyish figure from the snow that continued to paint them both.

His flustered expression would be allowed the chance of hiding in his furs as she lingered, this time, her stride seeming to match his pace next to him instead of slightly behind. "Forgive me," she said, facing forward with only an ephemeral glow to her cheeks. "He is, however, a good dog. Shall we?"

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

Takeshi watched the kunai between their bodies, held in fingers that were as white as the snow around them. Why did she have to do that? It wasn't an under-estimation, it was cold hard fact that when the body is subjected to temperatures this low for a sustained period of time it begins to deteriorate and under-perform. She would have had to use some kind of chakra technique to draw a weapon that fast in her condition. But what did the expenditure of that chakra for such a tiny action mean? Was it her own pride that had caused it? Or had she just wanted to harm his ego by proving him wrong? Then she gave one of the gloves back to him, as if that helped anybody. Just take them both or not at all! He took the glove, but he didn't put it on.

By then Kumo had pulled his cloak down and Takeshi was blushing behind one of his exposed hands. Why was this all suddenly devolving into a mess? She should have taken the gloves, been thankful, and that should have been the end of it. They could have swapped every so often, Takeshi could hold the cloak and pull it around himself to slow the cold and his fingers would have been fine, instead there were unnecessary actions confusing him and now he didn't know which way was up. He'd wasn't walking anymore, though he didn't remember stopping.

Then the furs were back, his childish frame hidden beneath the thick obscuring pelts and his face rose sharply from his fingers, a look of fury and fear swiftly melting as it came into contact with the snow and Tenko's gaze, replaced by the same sullen frown. A fog had descended over his his gaze. Kumo was on his other side, apologetically licking the dangling fingers that held the other glove. Too late the pup had realized that his master wasn't comfortable any longer, that his master didn't understand what was going on, that he was beginning to panic. Now that the cloak had been returned to him though some amount of courage had returned with it.

"I don't need it." Takeshi said, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. "You do." Thrusting the glove back out from beneath his cloak he let go of it whether she took it or not. He was just trying to be nice, why couldn't he just be nice? Why did everyone have to prove how strong they were? Why couldn't they just know. Takeshi knew, he didn't need to show it off. So why?

"I'm sorry for turning it into a matter of pride." He said finally. "We're in the village, there's no need to worry. Just keep your hands warm until we get to the academy." And with that he was marching off, leaving Kumo behind to wait for Tenko to follow. The pup, almost fully grown, but just as undeveloped and awkward as it's owner watched the girl with a remorseful gaze. A hopeful little "aroo?" croaked from it's throat.

 

[Higeki Tenko]

It was as if, all at once, the color had drained from their already bleak scenery - the snow had lost that fluffy white touch, the bazaar of lights & merriment around them dulling to a throb. It was that moment that Tenko felt the hints of casual camaraderie she hadn't even realized they'd been working towards practically bleed out the atmosphere. Neither her inward feelings nor outward expression changed in any notable way, but that small bit of light within her solemn eyes dimmed to their usual nothingness.

She halted before he did, having picked up on the signs of stress just moments earlier. She was one or two paces behind him, keeping an acute stare on his shoulders when she had nowhere else to look. She could hear Kumo, could track his little movements and stammers from the corner of her eye, but she didn't look away from Takeshi. It was a sincere befuddlement on her part, dredging up that deep down empathy until cracks within her chest let the barest lickings of light peak through. Not enough - she didn't indulge it.

This was largely because of that split-second look he had given her before it dissolved. Tenko might not have been well-versed in reading social cues in a lot of scenarios - more of a fighter than a lover and what have you - but she could read very clearly that the other party here was angered by her actions in whatever way. For whatever reason. It was, however, lost on her; and try as she might she couldn't quite keep a glimmer of that confusion from reflecting in her eyes. It was with this perspective that she reacted when he thrust his glove towards her, her entire body going taut while tense muscles reflexively snatched the article from his fingers before they could too closely near her frame.

She was on the defensive now, those strict lines of her face severely more guarded than just seconds before; a monumental task, considering the harshly puritan way she always appeared. With the sudden shift in his temperament he had caused the same in her, in the only way anyone else could actually effect her - she directed her caution towards him. It was a very good thing a true ninja couldn't have hurt feelings.

Her gaze flickered briefly to the the two gloves she now held in completion, sliding her fingers into the second woolly home after her moment of consideration and allowing them their sigh of relief. Fingers, too, did not entertain feelings. This was one of the many rails her ladder of a mind crossed as she tried to make sense of the situation. "I have not been acting out of pride," she began, keeping her timbre at its usual steadiness to her credit. "I merely wanted to assure you that I would not be a burden should an event happen. I can take care of myself, and you, whatever the circumstances my body is in."

Even with such a moderate tone her words rang with her particular brand of authenticity. She both meant and believed everything she was saying. "It was meant to be a gesture of good will. I apologize," an uncommon, but courteous way of dismissing a tense situation, "if the way I presented myself caused you discomfort." Good faith between allies was a very important part of shinobi life; you couldn't, during a mission, have a team that hated you. Distrust and resentment bred danger. This wasn't to say you needed to love your fellow ninja - emotions were strictly not meant to be at the forefront of one's mind - but a neutral respect was the goal of any partnership.

She didn't look at Kumo when she matched Takeshi's new pace.

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

"I didn't think you'd be a burden." He snapped, too sharply. Recoiling from his own tone slightly he gave her a look, the faintest shadow of melancholy creasing his forehead. Slowing his pace he tried to calm himself, first through his breath, then by pawing the air with his hand until he found Kumo's fur and clutched it lightly. White mist blew from his nostrils like smoke from a furnace. "I don't doubt you." Takeshi said finally in a voice that wavered like his throat hadn't formed the sounds in years. Not once had Tenko hissed at him in spite, or been caught whispering behind his back. Kumo had taken a liking to her and that spoke volumes about her as a person. She deserved more than what he was giving her, a cold shoulder and confusingly worded concerns. It was clear that out of all the academy students he knew she was the most like him. Perhaps there may even be more of them like her blending into the icy walls of revulsion and xenophobia, just waiting to be chipped away from the rock and shown some warmth.

Beside him the growing dog gave it's master an encouraging half-bark, and bumped his snowy white head into Takeshi's flank, nudging him forward.

Kumo's fur was released, allowing the canine to bound away and sit so he could watch the two work themselves over this little road-bump. A rocky start, but a start nonetheless.

"I was just trying to be nice." Barely more than a whisper he spoke as if his words could break laws and leaned in, stepping closer. "It's... Not easy for me." Kumo grumbled his agreement.

"We're in the village, we're trained to a degree, there are skilled combatants everywhere ready to mobilize themselves at a moments notice if anything happens so there's no need...." The more he spoke the more unsure he was of whether he should speak, eventually trailing off into silence and turning his head away to collect his thoughts. They were taught not to feel, taught only to think, and when they thought they were taught only to think about their jobs. It all fit together perfectly with what the boy knew, but there was something deep down that just didn't line up quite right and he was afraid of sharing it. For a moment that fear flickered behind pupils alive with individuality, the spark lasting just long enough for him to turn his head back before it died out again and went frigid.

Takeshi straightened. Stepped back. Spoke.

"It was my fault. I'm afraid I might be wearier than I thought. I only meant to show you gratitude for showing me a respect that the other students haven't extended by giving you my gloves, and to foster a sense of trust of course. We may well work as a unit one day, trust will be vital. I have my furs and leather, my hands will be fine. Yours, nimble or not, won't be if exposed too long. Kumo meant to give you my cloak as well." He shot the dog a cool glance. "I have my fur-lining to keep me warm, and pockets for my hands. The cloak I can do without, at least until we get back to the academy."

He began to shift it once more from his shoulder, his stature as tall as if it were still about his shoulders. Chest puffed and prideful. Determined not to be reduced to the awkward young man he appeared to be.

"You may have it until then."

 

[Higeki Tenko]

"I understand," was how she replied. Her tone had softened enough to be noticeable, the quietness to her eyes a little less steely. She didn't look at Takeshi while they spoke, politely letting her eyes roam elsewhere around them; catching individual snowflakes in her sights or counting the number of times a sign flashed in a controlled interval. A widening of her senses, free from their focus, that she used now as a distraction rather than something to escape from. She wasn't good at processing feelings, hers or anyone else's. This was the best she could do - listen and allow brief glimpses of her empathy. She couldn't open up with him because she was literally unable.

His words trailed around her ears, grounding her thoughts as they wavered on their rickety ladder. There was a part of her, subdued, that was surprised by his elaboration; she agreed that he had been nice to her, but it was strange to hear it outloud from such a gruff-presenting figure. She wasn't so haughty as to assume she knew everything about a person just by looking at them, but she had possibly underestimated the depths of Takeshi's kindness. His ability to feel. Perhaps that was only because she had likened him to herself. She assumed they were similar, soldiers with a single clear goal in mind, and maybe they still were - but he had heart. He continued to speak and he gave voice to a tumble of words she couldn't quite piece together, only understanding there was a meaning behind them. Emotion.

If she could see behind that lost expression of his she wouldn't have much more luck with the clearer thoughts beneath. Tenko Higeki had never questioned the way they were raised or the things they were taught. She never had that option - she would doubt Takeshi had been given much of one either. She was protecting herself, in a way, by simply going along with any instruction she was given. Her past was almost entirely blocked out, remaining only in a series of images that brought her a glimmer of warmth on her rougher nights, those lonely moments she began to slip from her convictions and ... feel, again. A smiling man - her father, she would have to guess ... and apples, she would always see apples. She could feel them in her trembling hands, could taste their sweetness. Dusty mountain roads, her legs sore to a quiver that got worse as she trekked onward yet never relented. She couldn't recall more than that. Her village was all she had now. This was all she had, which meant she had to do it right.

Her teeth scraped over her tongue, having inexplicably "zoned out" while her mind processed Takeshi's misgivings. He had gone silent and her eyes had picked a particularly blank spot of the sky encroached by stars to lose her in. It was only the growing silence between them that snapped her back to reality, a tremble to her spine while she straightened and tore her chilled countenance away from the night. Her gaze flickered to Takeshi to read the lines of his face before returning to her front, staring down the dark road before them. It was peppered with snow, crunching under their feet. The sound rung out in the cool, quiet air around them. It seemed they had left behind the entertainment district a good mile back while they were lost in themselves. Now they were just ... walking.

She didn't mention it.

He returned to his telltale stony visage before he finally spoke again, Tenko following suit with a squeeze of her warmed hands together. Back straight, eyes forward, shoulders tensed. An angular expression accented by her sharp cheekbones, the frailty of her birdlike appearance only highlighted in a way that brought her no pleasure but added a particularly jarring severity to her gaze. They were ninja, she reasoned. This was right. This is how they were supposed to be. Her thoughts would stall, returning her to the moment and allowing them to continue as they had up until now.

"It was - is - gracious of you, Takahashi-san, and you're correct. Building a healthy rapport between ourselves is as important as any combat exercise." Her timbre had returned to normal, smooth and uninflicted. "I respect your diligence." Her body turned towards him, not faltering in her pace while she deftly closed the distance and relieved him of his offered cloak with a polite lilt of her head. "I'll simply thank you this time, then. You and Kumo both," her eyes then flickering to the golden-hearted Ninken for the skeleton of a smile to tug at her lips.

She stepped back, watching the self-assured way he now strolled. That was good. That's how it should be; he deserved his pride. She busied herself with pulling his coat of furs around herself before she could stare too long at the man next to her, breathing out low in a veil of fog. Snowflakes nipped at her sharp features until she could pull the warmth of the borrowed article up and shield the lower half of her face from the elements. They then relaxed, a hushed softness overtaking her features. A flutter of her tired eyelids led to her leaning into the furs, no longer tasting the frosty air - instead, she was breathing him in with an unburdened red blooming just under her skin.

He smelled nice.

 

[Takahashi Takeshi]

A bare hand found it's way to the smooth metal pommel of the sword, tilting it slightly so that it didn't drag in the snow, the other hand wriggled into a fold in his clothing for warmth. This was how it should have gone. He thought to himself, comforted by the return to form. It was still a little way beyond his comfort-zone, but it wasn't so far as to make him panic, and that was what mattered. Inch by inch, slowly, he'd forge himself anew each day and make himself a better man than he was the day before. He just had to remind himself that this was only part of that process. Heat, fold, flatten, repeat. Like a good sword.

Kumo gave a joyous bark that vanished into the snowy mist, loping around them and resuming his usual routine of sniffing, marking, investigating, licking, then returning to either one of his current companions for ear scratches.

Inside his cloak Tenko looked like a giant ball of fur with a little girls head and Takeshi wondered if that was how he looked when he wore it. Her short legs poked out like a pair of white twigs holding up a house, then the cloak was dropped and trailed along the ground. Swiftly he brought his eyes back up, not quite sure why he felt the sudden twinge of embarrassment, nor why his shadow of a beard was being stretched by a tiny grin at the corner of his mouth. Too late he realized that she was looking at him and he discarded it as soon as he knew it was there.

"Yes, well," He cleared his throat and turned his focus to the path before them. "Even furs won't protect us forever, the sooner we get back the better." Another affirming yip from Kumo and he came bounding over to join them as they walked, sticking his snout into the furs to find Tenko's fingers.

It wasn't much longer before they were on academy grounds. As their trek began to reach it's end Kumo had taken to trotting beside them, wandering off less and less as the almost-limitless reserves of energy within him were swiftly drained. Words were scarce between the two ninja-in-training and what little communication there had been involved talk of their studies, work-out regimes, tests, exams, but it was all in the interest of building a connection, though neither of them would admit it. Each of them hiding behind one excuse or another. Shadowed smiles and private glee permeated their conversation.

"We're here." Takeshi said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice. It was a long walk from the entertainment district to the academy, he hadn't expected it to be over with so soon. A hand was held out between them, whitened by the cold, and openly expecting the cloak to be handed over to it though Takeshi was almost hesitant to take it from her now that he was used to her having it.

"You should come with us the next time we go for a walk." He suggested before he could even think to keep the words from tumbling out. Kumo offered one of his complimentary barks of agreement. "We could even get in a little extra practice together, pull ahead of the rest of the class."

 

[Higeki Tenko]

It wasn't so bad.

There were many things different for Tenko tonight; a new place, a new face and new feelings that she couldn't quite work out within that entanglement of nothingness her insides had become. [She] was a single twine of thread, looped through these other parts of [her] infinitely. Her individuality, at times, almost didn't exist - that meant when she was reminded of the things she was capable of emoting it could come as a shock. A twang of that string, reverberating through her bones and across the red flush of her cheeks. Neither of them could see, so neither of them would know. A tree falling in a forest still fell.

They talked for awhile, intermittently here and there. She didn't know how long. She had stopped tracking the seconds as they passed, losing her general awareness for a more picturesque focus on Takeshi and his words, his thoughts, his life. His expressions. Even Kumo's happy little yips fed this transitory distraction from the consuming yet unseen burdens of their day-to-days. The first few times she felt fur brushing against her fingers she would jolt, the bundle of the cloak hiding her small form within jostling and swaying in the snow misted air. It was instinct to pull away from contact, not to touch anyone or anything else; to avoid those small, inconsequential moments of intimacy.

This became forgotten with the rest. The next time she felt a wet nose excitedly nudging at the pads of her gloves she spread her hand out, absently running it across the top of Kumo's head in time with her steps until he wandered off again. She hadn't even noticed, might not ever even remember the moment. Even her monotonous speech couldn't quite mask the girl wriggling from her shell; they kept up their airs, lies and masks unbeknownst to themselves, but there was something different. Something greater than just the both of them and their disturbed worries. A connection, perhaps; the first of these red strings to snap from their bundles and tie at the ends. The smallest of knots, missed in the blink of their eyes.

They met their destination with a sluggish, sheepish acknowledgement held tight behind indifferent gazes. She came to a full stop, holding herself beneath the furs to stop from falling forward from their weight. Her eyes met his; a short nod at his words, punctuated by a slower reaction time than expected towards his outreached hand. She blinked down at it for one slow moment: catching up with her own thoughts to start in muted surprise and shrug off the coat. It was held out in her own thin, pale arms, almost steaming as they met the air and breathed the cold once more. "Thank you, again, Takahashi-san. You have treated me well. If there was ever anything you might require my assistance with, I'm not hard to reach. Think of it as repaying your favors."

Her sights slid once more to the gloves nestled around her hands, quietly prying them off before holding them out in the space between the two and dropping them within his grasp. "Warm up, too." She stretched and splayed her fingers, following with a subsequent stretch of her spine before looping into a stride that would have her pass the male with a polite farewell. His offer caught her ears and momentarily slowed her pace, a single foot frozen midair for the glimmer of a moment before falling once again to the snow.

"That seems practical."

See you again.

[ thread end ]