Facing a grown man, Tsuru refuses to bulk.
This is the moment her siblings have been preparing her for, the academy.
Tsuru moves, watching bones sprout from Hirosuga's pale flesh. Lengthy, blood stained points, that remind her of a opening bud, encoring his hand like a pistal. The growth leaving long jagged gashes, that quickly heal.
Clearly not as talented as his son, or underestimating her.
He charges.
And misses, snagging nothing but air.
He takes his time, studying her.
"My son is not worth your talent, girl."
Tsuru motions for him again. "I doubt your son will ever forgive me for taking your life, but sometimes you cannot stop fate.
"Now please come. Enough talk."
He frowns.
"Move brother, or i will strike you both down," growls the clan head. Crossing his arms.
Tsuru sighs, when the other man still does not move. Gaping at her.
"I am sorry, for this."
Tsuru moves. Shoves the knife in, as far, and deep as she can into the man's spleen. There won't be enough time for another few strikes, to properly damage it as his bones try to stop the blade.
But he is a dead man standing.
She manuvers, keeping out of his range. The skin healing over the blade.
Striking when she can, trying to jostle the blade from its confines.
The man winces, but that move only works once. The man quick to adjust.
0o0o0
Tsuru stands behind the fallen man, her hands pressing his head down. Shinigami surrounding them. Strange, demonic figures of different shapes and sizes. Masks covering their faces.
She slides the same blade, she used to steal his son, to slice his neck.
"How cute." The second shinigami coos, patting her cheek. "You are an adorable one."
Tsuru's freezes, and Hirosuga strikes. Catching her side, with the last of his energy.
Bleeding, and holding her throbbing ribs, Tsuru watches the shinigami approach the man.
Watches him get swallowed.
0o0o0
Tsuru can see desire warring in Kimimaro's eyes, as she unlocks his cage. A wad of torn cloth pressed tightly to her injured side.
"If you need a time to say goodbye, take it."
He stares at her for a moment, and then the body across from them.
"I cannot thank you for this."
"I know. You loved him."
0o0o0
The anbu are waiting outside the compound, ready to escort them home.
Tsuru shakes her head, refusing the hunched figure motioning to his back. Swats away Kaisa, and her glowing hands away. "It can wait."
She has nothing to hide, and the pain is welcomed.
Tsuru stares right ahead. Kimimaro following behind her with glassy eyes.
It is a long walk back home through the market and Tsuru wants to hug the boy, but shes afraid too.
Afraid he will break down.
Afraid he will refuse her.
His fathers dripping head, held up by his hair only worsening matters.
0o0o0
Haku rips open the door.
"I can't believe your plan wor-."
"Kimimaro needs a hug, Haku-kun.
Rounded eyes regard her, and he nods. Moving slowly to embrace the other child, Tsuru feels his sleeve brush hers.
Yagura tugs her into the house, and pulls her hand from her side. She lets out a low hiss, as the cloth tears from the sealed wound, and it begins weeping in earnest.
Brows furrowed, Yagura chides her. "You should of let the medic check that.
"It was just close shave."
"I could put my finger in there."
"Don't you dare."
0o0o0
Tsuru stitches Kimimaro's hand, under the medics supervision.
She can't bring herself to look at him.
"I don't hate you Tsuru-chan."
"That a little hard to believe."
"Look at me," the boy demands.
He raises his hand between their faces. "You chose to save me, and this is my promise. One day, I will save you."
"Haku says it is my purpose, to serve and protect you."
"Good luck with that, kiddo," Eito says, stopping to ruffle the boy's hair as he passes.
Kimimaro flinches, and her brother frowns.
He turns to Tsuru fully, and she can almost imagine his hair standing fully up as he bristles. "How badly are you hurt?"
"Did you two idiots, did you even tell father what you were planning?" he asks, glancing at Yagura. The man preparing to sneak out.
"There's an envelop in his desk?" Tsuru tries, hoping Yagura had forgotten about that.
Her eyes narrow when the man smiles wide. His tone almost gleeful. "I sent mine."
Fuck.
