So here's my first contribution to Genrai week aw ye.
Summary: "The first time Raidou saw Genma was when he was 15, fighting a war that was well beyond his years." Raidou and Genma are just kids fighting a war way out of their depth.
Set during the Third Shinobi War.
The first time Raidou saw Genma was when he was 15, fighting a war that was well beyond his years.
The wind had stopped blowing instead there was a stillness that had settled across the battlefield. Sweat stuck to his skin and the thick blanket of heat draped over, smothering him.
He's cursed the wind when it was here but the humidity, it seemed, was much, much worse.
Raidou sat, his back pressed against the dirt wall of the trench. He had twelve shurikens, 20 kunai and his sword left. The thought bounced through his brain and he shuddered. How long would he last with his sad amount of weapons if the fighting started again before supplies came? He'd be seeing his dead friends sooner than expected.
A sweat droplet slid its way down his face and dripped into his eyes. He reached up wiping the back of his arm across his face only adding to the streaks of brown dirt.
73 minutes ago their captain had taken four kunai to the stomach and bled to death in his lieutenant's arms.
The lieutenant had taken up the mantle flawlessly but maybe it was because Raidou had spent so many days in his company that the tightness in his officer's shoulders and the wrinkles pulling on his face just made him seem so tired. It wasn't the first shinobi they'd lost and definitely not the last.
Raidou coughed into the corner of his elbow and tried to ignore the glare his other squad mate was trying to burn into his skull. He wasn't even sure what he'd done to cause someone so much anger. He'd spent the last few months fighting, not concerning himself with the finer details of his squad mate's sensitivity.
Another shinobi would be at their location soon to deliver some equipment and other necessities and any news.
Raidou let his head sag against the earth wall and tried to rest — a trick the veterans had taught him. Being able to recover some energy without letting yourself fall asleep and stay awake enough to respond to an attack as soon as it struck. He'd yet to perfect it but it was paying off.
He focused on his breathing. Purposely took deep breaths and tried to ignore the heat, the burning sensation on every inch of exposed skin. Tried to ignore the sweat that left a layer of itchy grime on his skin. Tried to ignore the cracked lips and the dirt under his nails.
His breaths lulled him into something more relaxed, and he carefully eased some tension out of his shoulders and arms working down to his legs.
Chakra flared hard and quickly enough to jolt Raidou from his slow descent into the most peace he'd gotten in weeks. He jerked up, pulling himself from the wall brandishing a kunai in one hand and other gripped around the hilt of his sword. His squad mate was squatting close to the trench wall gripping a kunai in each hand, mouth set in grim determination.
The lieutenant was facing them. He raised his hand and signed. Safe, stand down.
It took Raidou a full seven seconds to uncoil his muscles enough that he wouldn't stab the next thing that moved.
He watched the lieutenant raise a hand over the trench and sign a few in quick succession watching carefully towards the trees — the only coverage around them.
A figure — lithe and small leapt from the coverage and over the wall. He landed squarely in between the lieutenant and Raidou and his squad mate a small puff of dust pooling around him from the landing.
The shinobi wasted no time, saluting at the captain and began unloading the scrolls he carried with them. He called out the contents efficiently and quietly. His voice was hoarse and overused and as Raidou moved around to get closer to the exchange the shinobi looked as deeply tired as Raidou felt — and young. Two to three years younger than Raidou. His hair that was poking out of his hitai-ate bandanna was dirty. Clunks sticking together with dried blood sweat and his eyes held darkening bags under them.
The shinobi glanced at him through the corner of his eye as he finished delivering the scrolls.
"Good job kid." the lieutenant nodded tightly and unloaded some of the scrolls "they're working you to the bone it seems."
Raidou raised an eyebrow and the shinobi breathed out a heavy sigh closing his eyes for a moment. "When we're not fighting I'm the messenger." He said his voice clipped off. He knew his place. A thirteen-year old wasn't much use compared to veterans and that combined with his small body he'd be harder to spot and harder to catch.
Raidou nodded "thanks for the supplies," he said and patted the shinobi's shoulder.
"I think you got one of the worst jobs they have to offer" the smile on his face felt so forced and unnatural and he could feel his lips crack and peel, but he hoped the kid would see the humour.
"Yeah," the shinobi smiled back with a stiffness that meant he was no better off than Raidou.
"The name's Genma Shiranui" He pulled himself back together, eyes sharpening, muscles coiled and his features smoothed out to an unreadable mask.
"Raidou Namiashi." the two held each other's gazes for a second longer before Genma saluted the lieutenant and disappeared over the trench without a sound.
The first time Raidou met Genma his heart didn't pound in his chest. He didn't lose his breath. He didn't fall in love at first sight.
They were two kids caught in the crossfire of a war they should have no part in. They were two kids who were used to doubting they'd survive the night.
Their meeting was nothing special, barely worth a mention
But it was the beginning. Their beginning.
I'm not sure of the actual logistics of the Third Shinobi War. I'm not sure how old my boys were or how long it went… so I just made it up.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!
pls comment to keep my alive