Chapter 20
One could almost smell the sparks of steel flying in the air as the two blades crashed upon each other, scrapping and clanking in their movements. Both pressed against each other for a moment longer, before the larger blade slid over the smaller one, forcing its wielder to stumble as force met no resistance. With a decisive kick to the back of his knees, Kama went down, the soft skin of his throat breaking underneath the touch of a sword.
"Dead," a gruff voice spoke up above him.
He didn't answer, too mindful of not bobbing his throat lest he get cut even worse and instead dropped his own blade.
The cold steel disappeared and with an exhausted sigh Kama let himself plonk down on his bottom instead of remaining kneeling. A shadow fell over him as a tall and broad figure stepped into the sun's path, the sound of a sword being sheathed following.
"All right, spill it."
"Spill what?"
"Why you're so distracted today."
Kama hesitated for a second, before sending him a smirk. "Can't help it that you're the expert in ken-jutsu, Koguma."
Confusion flickered across his face, mouth slowly and silently repeating 'Koguma'. With a grace that was almost ridiculous with his sheer size, Koguma sat down opposite him, sitting in a relaxed cross-legged position. Kama didn't give any indication of any emotion, except keeping that obnoxious smirk plastered to his face.
"Kama-" the brown-haired man started.
"Koguma-" Kama mocked in return.
His eyebrows scrunched together, a deep crease appearing between them and mouth pressed into an unhappy line. "If you didn't want to train together today, you should've just said so."
Kama leaned back onto his hands, eyes closing as if he were enjoying the sun on his face. "Oh no, I absolutely love getting my ass kicked by you."
"Apparently, since you so clearly sucked today."
The silver-haired man merely scoffed, dipping his head back even further and pulling his legs underneath his body.
"Everything alright with Nari?"
"Does everything always have to do with her?"
Koguma cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he searched for some kind of clue on what was going on with his friend. "It usually does."
Kama opened his grey eyes, lazily staring up into the perfectly blue sky, sparrows chasing each other across its endless planes. "You have no idea," he mumbled, making it hard to understand him.
"You have been acting weird a lot lately."
"I have always been a weird person."
"Let me rephrase," Koguma started, folding his hands in his lap and slightly leaning forward, "you have been acting rather normal lately."
Kama's legs dragged ever so slightly closer to his body. "Isn't that good? Normal instead of weird?"
"I like you better weird."
He only hummed in reply, still refusing to meet Koguma's eyes. Koguma uttered an exhausted sigh and rubbed his jaw as he leaned back again, gaze turning inwards. With one fluid motion he got back on his feet, strapped off his kodachi and moved back to the centre of the training field. Kama watched him roll his shoulders and neck, before getting into the opening stance of his katas, surely to prevent any muscle soreness the next day.
His eyes flickered down to the sword lying in front of him- the shaft was worn, the sleek wood lined with several scratches and the dark stain rubbed off by fingers touching it again and again. The leather hilt itself look pristine and it had to be. It wouldn't do for a swordsman to walk around with loose or tattered leather, risking a failing of grip. Even though he and Sutoro had given Koguma his father's odachi back over a year ago, he still preferred using his uncle's kodachi. If it was due to him being so used to its form now, nostalgia or any personal preferences, he couldn't quite say.
He continued staying seated on the hard soil, sometimes watching Koguma and his precise movements through the corner of his eyes and sometimes turned his head to follow birds hopping from one tree to the next. After maybe half an hour Koguma joined him again, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.
"You'll be so sore tomorrow."
"Probably," Kama hummed.
Koguma reached down to take up his sword and strapped it back to his left hand side. "Alright, last chance, Kama. I'm leaving on a mission tomorrow morning, probably three weeks."
"Who's coming with?" He got up as well, lazily dusting off the dirt clinging to his clothes.
He merely shook his head. "Solo."
Kama shortly stilled in his movements, before raising an eyebrow at him. "No Susumu?"
"Nope. He's got his in-laws coming for a visit."
"Team Tobirama?"
"On a mission themselves."
"Three weeks?"
Koguma hummed in reply, his hands resting against his hips as he stared off into the distance, beady eyes scanning for threats even within the village.
"Can I come?"
"'Mission's already assigned." He turned his head towards him, gaze slightly softening. "It's only a B-rank."
Kama huffed and cocked his hip to subtly try and stretch his already souring muscles. "I don't doubt your skill. I just find it rather selfish of you to not share your mission."
"Need to get out that badly, mh?" He shot him a knowing look, giving him the chance to get off his chest whatever was bothering him.
Birds whistled as they flew above their heads, almost mocking the silence that answered Kama's opening and closing mouth. "Nari's pregnant," he admitted tonelessly after a while.
"Congratulations." The remark had been dry and blank. Both men stared at each other for a moment, Koguma's eyebrows lifted in worry. "It's what you wanted, no? The reason you forced yourself and Nari into this loveless marriage?"
"Yeah."
Koguma took an almost hesitant step forward. "Then you'll be done once you're a father, no? Duty fulfilled and all?"
A sneer spread on Kama's face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "One won't be enough."
Silence and shock met his declaration. "What."
"Don't be a fool." All of Kama's pent up anger was now directed at him, making him take a hesitant step back again. "How could one child be enough? We're eighteen left. Eighteen, Koguma! Six children, a dozen grown-ups. How could one child ever be enough?" He pulled back further, hands grasping hard around his arms as they strained in front of his chest. "We're dying and no one is doing anything about it."
"We're not a breed, Kama," Koguma scolded harshly. "If that is the fate of the Hatake, so be it."
"Are you out of your mind?! So be it? Shit, Koguma, I thought you were at least learning to accept being part of our clan again. Do you hate us so much? This is your family, your kin, your flesh and blood too! How can it leave you so unbothered?" Kama's hands were now shaking beside his body, lips pulled back in a snarl and usually half-lidded eyes scorching with anger.
"You know that I only joined the clan because I had to," Koguma spat back just as harshly.
"You only joined because of Susumu!"
"I also joined because of you!"
Kama recoiled, surprise and suspicion lining his face. "Bullshit," he chuckled bitterly after a while.
Something inside Koguma visibly snapped upon the accusation, a wild look leaking into his eyes and his fangs started to peek out of his lips. "I wouldn't have touched the clan with a ten-foot pole if it weren't for you, you absolute dimwit. I fucking hate the clan, I hate it. All of them, all the clans. Every. Single. One. Of. Them." The words were spat out with such vigour that it shortly made Kama's breath hitch. "Always pretending there even is an us- as if you could ever love over a hundred people with every fibre of your being and soul. As if you'd protect and care for every one of them with equal veracity. As if none of them are pretending to be a unit, only to turn a blind eye to those suffering and falling through the cracks. Saving their own skin and those of their blood first. Kicking and trampling those lying on the ground, trying to smooth them into the mould they have created for their own little circle. Hypocrites, all of them. Illusions. Nothing more."
He took a step closer to Kama, who stiffened underneath the hint of madness in his eyes. He grabbed him harshly by the back of his neck and leaned forward to hiss into his ear, "I'll let you in on a little secret. If it weren't for you and your persistence, I would have burned the Hatake to the ground the second they let me in that longhouse of theirs. Even if I would have died trying. Anything to wipe their stain from the face of the earth. They keep saying that I only take after my ojisan in looks. Not being as wild and cruel as he was. They're wrong. So wrong. I will gladly watch the clan fade into oblivion by circumstances of their own making and I will dance upon their graves when they do. And if the gods decide to punish me for such thoughts when my day comes, I will spit onto their faces with a smile on my lips."
His lips were ghosting the shell of his ear when he added, "Don't ever mistake my compliance for loyalty. Don't ever mistake my silence for acceptance. Don't ever mistake my words for forgiveness. I'll never forgive them. I'll never forget it. Only my pack is deserving of my loyalty, of my forgiveness. Deserving of a Kuma's heart. The rest of the world may rot for all I care."
He let go of Kama's surely bruising neck, let him lean backwards and stared down at him with a burning intensity. "Do you hate me now, Kama?"
An ever so slight tremble was racing through the man's body, but no expression flittered across his face. A few seconds passed until he swallowed hard and replied, "I could never hate you, Kogu."
Koguma shot him a wild grin, the sun reflecting on his razor sharp canines. Then he leaned forward and let their foreheads bump together. "Kogu," he breathed. "That's better."
After a few heartbeats of shared breath, he pushed himself away again, his face meticulously changing into his usual scowl. Then he turned around and left Kama standing on the training field.
It was cold and damp. Water was dripping down in a steady rhythm, splashing onto the already wet stone of the ground. The light flickered in the dark, a small draft constantly on the move this deep down in the mines of the Land of Earth.
A man sat bound on a rough chair, his eyes darting left and right while he continued fighting against the gag propped in his mouth. He was blinking vigorously, trying to keep the blood from a head wound from spilling into his eye. When soft steps echoed along the barren stone, his eyes strained to the right, head unable to move with how tight it was bound.
"Now," a deep and gruff voice spoke up right behind his right ear. "I have all the time in the world, while yours is most definitely limited." Cold steel whispered against his neck and fluttered down to his spine. "But let's see how long it'll take for me to break you. A little race if you will." The man winced as the blade cut into his skin as it ghosted over his naked back. "After all, it's in your best interest to get this over with as quickly as possible."
The man shuddered as warm breath tickled against his neck. "Oh don't worry, I won't drag it out long enough for fever to take you. What a waste that would be."
The man's eyes stared at the figure prowling around his right side, until he was looming over him. "Now, my employer wants you to suffer for what you did to his daughter. Gave me weeks to do it even." Koguma crouched down in front of him, almost gently patting against the whimpering man's cheek. The soft cloth of his bandages left no sound while doing so. "But that's truly a civilian way of looking at things. Suffering really isn't something bound to time." Sharp canines flashed in the light of the candle. "Don't worry. I'll make you pay thoroughly enough. A matter of honour really, even if he doesn't wish for your corpse at the end of it."
The man was now choking on his own sobs, tears and snot streaming down his face and leaking into his already damp gag. His wrists were getting bloody in his desperate attempt to shed off his bounds, chair bobbling back and forth in his desperation.
Koguma's face fell into an icy mask from one moment to the next, his voice merciless as he stated, "It's not as exciting when you're the one strapped to the chair stark naked, is it?" His grip was merciless around the man's fingers, bending them backwards ever so slowly. "And just like poor Hana-chan, no one is going to hear your cries."
Sharp screams soon enough drowned out the steady dripping of water. It's echo sounded more and more alien as it bounced back and forth between the walls while it made its way deeper into the mine.
It sounded like demons screeching in delight.
Ten minutes until the man had begged him to be let go. Four hours until he had begged him for death. Twenty-one hours until the only word leaving his lips was 'mother'.
What a disappointment.
At least the sharks had had a feast on his chubby flesh, even if they had to forgo his tattooed pinkie-finger. He should keep some sort of memento for his employer, lest they accuse him of being sloppy. It was sometimes fascinating how much could be read from such a small part of the body. He would be pleased with how the man had ended.
Koguma wiped the water running down in rivulets from his face. The rain was still dripping down from his hair into the back of his shirt and occasional lightning flickered across the dark sky. The sea was in upheaval, roaring and churning and crashing against the rough stones of the island. Even in the dark one could recognize the colourful houses mounted on top of the cliffside, lights glowing through the parched windows.
"Seals? To keep them whole even in such a storm?"
"Probably," an equally deep voice answered. He looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, both sharing an anticipating smirk after a few seconds.
His scoff was filled with warmth as he slightly adjusted his position on the ledge he had chosen as a venture point. Finishing the mission after thirty-eight hours had really left him with a lot of wiggle-room until he had to report back. No need for anyone to ever know it had only taken that little.
He turned his head slightly westwards. A much larger town was sitting at the very top of the island, its shape only hazy in the heavy downpour. What luck that even in these lands segregation between clans was a thing. The nobles on the hill and the scum at the base, right where they belonged.
It made it almost too easy.
Koguma's left hand fluttered across the freshly oiled scabbard of his uncle's kodachi, now of a deep ebony colour to make it less conspicuous in the night. Then he grabbed onto the other figure and kawarimied them into the village.
For a moment both men stilled in their spot underneath a balcony- but his recognisance proved right. No barrier to keep them out. Only his now carefully placed seals to keep them in and once he activated the them, to keep anyone not already inside at a distance.
Getting Danzo and Hiruzen drunk enough to share their seal used to keep Kama and Susumu away from Nami's house hadn't been a problem at all. He even doubted they still remembered their slurred conversations with how hammered they had been. It had been a miracle that they had been able to hunt the bandits the next day at all. Truly difficult had been adjusting it in such a way that it fitted his needs. Weeks and weeks of careful experimentation and planning and failing. The premise was easy enough: Any chakra signatures inside upon activation will be locked onto it, giving them the chance to come and go as they pleased. Anyone outside the barrier at that initial setup stayed out of the loop. The shocks were actually created by drawing out of the static in the air- meaning on a normal day you'd simply get a little flinch, but on stormy days like these- maybe it would be enough to fry off entire limbs.
The truly tricky part had been tweaking it in such a way that those inside couldn't get out anymore, but leaving the both of them out of that equation. It had really driven him to the edge of his mental capacities finding a way around that and he was sure his solution was messy as hell, but it worked. At least during his little test-runs. And what a delightful test subject his whimpering target before had been.
Seeing that after a minute still no alarms were being raised, he lifted his hand in the sign of rat and sent a pulse of chakra through the seals placed strategically all-round the district. He felt it resonate through him, even when he hoped no one else did. His kodachi sang as he drew it out of his shaft, the blade stained black with oil to keep it from reflecting any light. The sound of another, slightly longer odachi being drawn followed suit.
"Ready?" he mouthed.
"Always," the other replied, the scar on his cheek prominent even in the dark.
Koguma laid his bandaged hand against the side of his cousin's face. Although unable to really feel anything underneath the numb scar tissue, he sensed his warmth still. And if Yasashiko's softening gaze was anything to go by, the gesture had managed to convey what he couldn't express in words.
Gratitude.
After exchanging a short nod, Yasashiko made his way to the opposite side of the district. They would meet up again soon enough.
Then he turned his gaze upwards to the balcony above him, a grin spreading on his face.
Time to give Tari a little visit.
He was silent when he entered the bedroom and cut her throat before she had even noticed someone standing beside her bed. The sheets turned just as blood-red as her hair, her eyes staring in pure horror up to him. She must have regretted her careless words right then. It was truly a pity that her daughter had to bump into him on the hallway, clutching her pendant in fear. Probably had been scared out of bed by thunder.
He moved onto the next house just as silently as he had started with the first. Thirty-nine houses, sixty-one people. He had counted them all for over a week. Sure, some of them could be on missions or flittering somewhere along Uzushio, but it didn't matter. They would be too few to make any difference in the end.
At least one stain being wiped off the earth.
It was all going rather smoothly until he heard the first screams echo through the night- he had taken down twenty-eight by then. Too slow, but nothing he could do about it now. He stabbed the man startled out of his front door with a swift movement, not even sparing him a glance as he collapsed onto the paved ground slick with rain water. The woman's screeching a few streets further down ceased with an abrupt silence. He and his cousin must be getting closer to each other now.
He leapt up onto the roof and made his way to the next house, ready to wait them out until they stumbled through the front door. His clothes were by then clinging to his body, rainwater dripping down his nose in an unsteady rhythm. Movement caught his attention, the flash of steel being the only warning he got to duck away (should have oiled their blades). The razor sharp sword still managed to cut off the tips of his hair as he raised his own weapon to deflect the next blow. Lightning crashed down once more, giving him a clear view of his opponents- hair the colour of carrots and the other one's face pulled into a grimace by a harelip.
"Koguma?" the first man called out in disbelieve.
"Ninji. Bani," he replied, dipping his head at them. "Fancy seeing you here." He lifted his fist for them to see- a silver necklace dangled from it, depicting a fox eating the sun. "Is the bet still on?"
All three of them spurred into action at the same time, Ninji swinging at him with his katana and Bani trying to corner him with his tanton on the other side. Two against one. Exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Exactly what he had been training for all his life.
Steel hummed as it swung through the air and groaned whenever it clashed upon each other. Koguma kicked loose some of the rooftiles, only to use them later on for his kawarimi. The unpredictable movements surprised both men for a moment, giving him the chance to sloppily cut of the tip of Ninji's fingers gripping at his hilt. The man roared in pain, lifting his bloody stumps upwards as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Koguma used the chance to stab his blade clean through his throat. He had barely time to pull it out before Bani was upon him, face twisted in a snarl and a deep growl rumbling through his chest. Koguma escaped every one of his angered swipes with ease, almost dancing his way out of his attacks. Sometimes he would latch a rooftile against the soles of his feet with chakra to fling them at him with force.
As he was gaining the upper hand against his opponent, a whole different set of growls resounded over the rooftiles. He groaned in pain as sharp teeth cut through his lower thighs and hip, jaws locking together and tearing at his flesh. He cursed and swung his sword at the first summon, cutting off its little sharp head with ease. Bani used his distraction to get at him and where he had lost one, seven more foxes locked down onto his torso and neck.
Red hot anger and the slightest tinge of fear soared through him. He chose to ignore the little beasts and instead chugged out a kunai to finally end Ninji with a precise shot. But when the kunai dug into his head, only half of the foxes disappeared in a puff of smoke, making his eyes dart around for the other caster of the jutsu.
He made effort to twirl around with every one of his moves to try and get rid of the beasts, but instead they simply locked on sharper onto his muscles. Having had quite enough of it already, he charged up to a panting Bani, easily managing to use his stronger leverage with his kodachi against the smaller tanton to disarm him. His head was rolling off the roof not five seconds later.
He flung himself onto the opposite ridge, finally spotting an elder woman standing there, who was shakily clutching onto a kunai. Her unbound white hair clung to her face and body.
"They'll come before you can leave." Koguma didn't even need to scent her to know she was trembling with fear.
"Bold of you to assume that anyone will come to help you," he spat back while grabbing onto the fox biting into his neck. Its little head broke underneath his grip, making it poof out of existence as it tore out his flesh. Blood trickled down the wound in hot rivulets, the rain unable to wash it away completely.
"I always knew that if only one Kuma lived, we wouldn't be able to run away far enough." She took a shaky step towards him. "Especially when it's you, Kenji-kun."
Koguma bared his teeth at the blind bat. "Then come and take your death with honour."
She roared as she stumbled at him, kunai clutched inside her fist and raised against him. His uncle's kodachi had cleaved her in half before she ever got close enough to use it. Finally, the last two foxes biting at his waist and upper right leg poofed away as well.
He shortly stumbled as he made his way down to the street. His sword gleamed with oil, blood and rainwater as he flicked it through the air.
Another scream cut off short told him exactly where he would find Yasashiko at.
Koguma's eyebrows scrunched as he dapped with a boiled-out cloth against the slash going from the corner of his cousin's eye up until his hairline- the flesh was slightly flapping back and most definitely needed to be stitched up.
"Don't look at me like that, cub. I never was a handsome man to begin with." Koguma let out a surprised chuckle, doing his best to be as gentle in his movements as possible. "Did I say something funny?"
He shook his head and threw the bloodstained cloth back into the boiling water cooking in an iron pot over the fire. "I'm just not used to being in the company of people not acting like vain peacocks."
"The stocky white-haired one?"
Now he truly had to laugh, hissing as the movement stirred the still freely bleeding wounds on his neck, torso and limbs. "Yes." He lifted the needle and thread he had pulled through alcohol before and with steady hands began to sew the flaps back together again. His cousin cringed, but tried his best to not move his face too much, lest the stitches came out all crooked and uneven. Silence spread over their hidden campsite, rain still splashing down on the sea outside as it leapt at the coarse pebbles of the beach.
Sparks flew up from the fire when the logs collapsed on each other just as Koguma finished up with the last stitch. Once all bound up, he chugged the needle and thread into the iron pot as well and then proceeded to stack a bit more wood on top of the dying fire.
"Come on, shed your shirt. I think the one on the neck's worst," Yasashiko spoke up, mindful of keeping his face still while doing so to not tear the stitches.
Koguma sat down on in a cross-legged position and with a stiff movement, pulled off his top. His cousin hissed as the flickering light revealed a whole array of bite marks across his torso- some showing the imprints of teeth perfectly, others but teared-out chunks of flesh. "We'll need to burn some of them out, cub. They'll surely infect otherwise. Nothing more riddled with filth than a beast's mouth." His gaze dragged further down to his still covered up legs, without doubt noticing the bleeding wounds there as well.
A bottle of sake got pressed into Koguma's hands and he chugged down five big gulps on the silent advice, especially when he saw Yasashiko laying a kunai into the glowing embers, flaming the heat with a fire jutsu as he did.
"Don't worry, I think Kama will still like you with them." Koguma shot him a dirty look upon his remark, to which his cousin merely shrugged his shoulders. "Only sharing some observations."
"Just finally get on with it," he spat, fists clenching into his trousers. Yasashiko chuckled and tugged out the now red-hot kunai with a wet piece of cloth to not burn himself.
"Wanna have something to bite down on?" A piece of wood appeared in front of his mouth, which he gladly locked between his teeth, the material splintering underneath his harsh grip. A heartbeat later flesh sizzled when scorching steel met ripped flesh, followed by miserable groans ravaging through Koguma's throat. The sound grew even more retched as his cousin moved the kunai to properly reach all affected areas.
When the searing sensation finally lifted, Koguma was panting with pain and cold sweat glistened on his skin. He swayed in his seated position for a moment, eyes blinking vigorously and face deathly pale. The smell of burned flesh stung in their noses.
"One down-" his cousin remarked, pausing as if counting, "-eight more to go." Koguma's muscles started to tremble underneath the weight of that statement. "Let's see how many you can endure before you pass out. Kenji once made it up to six until he sagged together. You're onisan had been down after three already." The grin was almost audible as he added, "But you're older than both of them had been then. So, let's aim for seven."
Koguma managed five.
He came back to himself maybe half an hour later, form sagged against Yasashiko's shoulder, who was busy wrapping his wounds. He stared into the slightly burned down campfire, watching embers fly up into the air and the logs flitter with a red hue. The rain outside sounded only like a light drizzle, the sea much calmer in its rhythm against the shore.
"Could've told me you got a history with burns," he remarked softly as he held his hand to bandage a bitemark on his lower arm.
"Didn't matter," Koguma croaked back.
"They look nasty."
"They were." He cleared his throat but found himself rather unwilling to lift from his position against his cousin's warm body. Nausea was making it rather easy to take the decision not to move. "One of the many things that killed ojisan."
Yasashiko secured the soft cotton, still lifting his arm up to the light of the fire to watch the scars, surely laying notice to some few slightly smoother patches. "What else?"
"I'm guessing internal bleeding, resulting dehydration and a head wound. Maybe all of them, maybe none of them. I'll never know."
A deep hum vibrated his cousin's torso as he laid his hand back into his lap. "You forgave them?"
"Never." An expectant silence answered his fierce declaration. "I forgave Kama," he added a tad more softly, "I don't care about the others. I even challenged Baa to a fight of honour the moment I laid eyes on the Hatake."
Muscles tensed underneath his cheek. He knew Yasashiko had been roughly of the same age-group as him. Had probably grown up with the Okami, just as he had with Koguma's uncle. There had only been a three year gap between Yasashiko and Kenji after all. A surprisingly late gift to his grandparents he must had been. No wonder everyone had always called him the runt of the litter. "What did he do?"
"He saw. He abandoned us." The fire cracked. "I killed him."
A foot dragged across the stony ground while Yasashiko adjusted his position, surely having to process the information for a moment. "What about the others?"
"They'll kill themselves soon enough." His head raised and lowered ever so slightly with every breath Yasashiko was taking.
"You spare them because of Kama." There was no accusation, just simple observation.
"They're his pack. He wouldn't forgive me if I didn't." A pause. "I wouldn't."
A deep chuckle made his head bobble up and down. Nausea welled up inside of him again and he lifted his head with a groan. "You'd be surprised with how forgiving some can be."
"There has to be a line somewhere. And I'd rather not cross it."
"Why?"
"He's pack." Koguma's head was starting to throb with a headache, so he started massaging with his right hand against his temple, unwilling to move the injured left one.
Yasashiko hummed again. "I distinctly remember a little boy tugging along to everything his absolute idiot of a friend that truly no one liked because of his general assholery came up with. Maybe it's you that would forgive him anything." He paused, before he slightly bumped against his shoulders. "Typical puppy love, that much we could all agree on."
Koguma sneered in reply, turning his head away and towards the cave's entrance as he did so.
"Your kaasan even had a betting pool going on how long it would take the kid of an, and I quote, 'emotionally stunted Kuma' to admit it." He paused and clothes rustled as he leaned forward as if to get a look at his face. "She would be pleased to know that she was winning."
"What?" Koguma scoffed, staring at his cousin with disbelieve.
"She said you'd deny it to your dying breath."
"Fuck off."
"Language."
Koguma stared at him big eyed, face illuminating as if remembering something long forgotten. Yasashiko laughed again, the sound turning into a hiss as the movement tugged against his wound. "Whatever. Maybe I'm making it up as I go- you'll never know."
"Sweet kami, I had almost forgotten what a pain in the ass you could be." Koguma wanted to continue scowling at him, but the corner of his mouth was being rather uncooperative in keeping a smile down. "Dessert stealing idiot that you were."
Yasashiko braced his hand in front of his chest in mock hurt. "And here I thought I had been forgiven! The scorn of it must have hurt you deeply indeed for you to remember that."
"First thing that crossed my mind when I saw your ugly mug." They grinned at each other, shadows flickering across their faces from the fading light of the now almost burned up fire.
"Come with me, Kogu." Yasashiko's gaze softened as he took in the hint of longing in his Koguma's eyes. "I missed you. Just come with- Let me take care of you, as kin should."
"No."
He leaned forwards into Koguma's space, his gaze imploring and slightly desperate. "News'll travel soon enough about what happened to the Kitsune. When they'll see your scars-"
"You burned them out rather thoroughly."
"Not all of them-"
"Yasashiko, no." Koguma shook his head again. "It doesn't matter. The only ones ever going to see my scars are Susumu and Kama and even if they were to realise what they mean, they'd never tell a soul." He sent his cousin a warm and genuine smile. "I missed you too. More than I have ever thought I did. But I have to stay with them. I'll always stay with them. They're mine to look after."
Yasashiko returned his smile. "Then at least promise me you'll find happiness."
"I have. At least something similar to it. And I can ask for nothing more."
That earned him a smack to the backside of his head. "You look like shit, cub. White hair peeking out all over your thick mop."
Koguma had to resist pouting as he rubbed the bruised spot. "Pah, the gods are fickle in their mercy. Good things come with bad. The better the thing, the worse the drop."
"What a cynical old man you have become."
"Haven't we all?"
The screeching of seagulls interrupted whatever his cousin wanted to add to that. Both their heads snapped over to the entrance of the cave- the fire had long since burned down, but still the slate walls were cast in a dim reddish light.
The sun was rising.
"What a bunch of idiots we are talking the night away like that." Yasashiko clapped his thighs and rose to his feet. He proceeded to pack all signs of life away into his backpack, sometimes stopping to help Koguma whenever he winced as he had to reach down for his own clothes. The ashes of their fire were scattered along the rocky ground and the iron pot sealed into a scroll.
"Burn it all before you enter the Land of Fire," his cousin advised once they stood next to each other at the entrance of the cave. The waves in front of them were dipped in a golden hue from the sun just looming at the edge of the horizon. It looked like fine silk moving in a breeze and licked against the coarse, dark pebbles. The storm of last night had left the air feeling cool and soothing, the smell of the ocean fresh and heavy with the algae and driftwood washed ashore underneath the relentless tug of last night.
Koguma nodded, carefully adjusting his stance to not stretch his wounds too much. "How will you get back?"
"Officially I got a mission in the Land of Mist. I'll just head down south along the coast. You?"
"Got two weeks to get back to Konoha. I'll probably need it."
They turned to face each other. Koguma was slightly taller than his cousin, but only by the width of two fingers. While his limbs were longer, Yasashiko was certainly the bulkier between the two of them. He looked the perfect image of a Kuma. Massive, intimidating and rough. Koguma wasn't a typically lithe shinobi either, but he did feel somewhat smaller, scrawnier standing next to him. He wondered how alike he and his uncle really were, or if time had simply clouded the memory people had of him. Just for once, he would like people to recognize him as his father's son when they looked at him. Takeo's son, the man that could snap people's backs in half with his bare hands. The man capable of showing mercy even to his enemies. The last elected leader of the Kuma. But then again it probably hadn't helped that he had had phases of malnourishment during his childhood. No sense in wishing for what couldn't be changed.
Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because his cousin's face crumbled ever so slightly. He stepped forward and very gently wrapped him into his embrace. The hug they shared was one of aching wounds, sore muscles and stiff joints, but it was warm and comforting.
"Your tousan would have been proud of you. Take care, cub."
Koguma's fingers splayed across his cousin's firm back as he buried his face against the soft skin of his neck. "Take care, Yasashiko."
They didn't look back the moment they walked off into opposite directions.
"You need to adjust your stance. Legs shoulder-width apart, shoulders relaxed and don't halt your breath." Long, strong fingers pressed down on his hitched up shoulders, while a foot was coaxing his legs further apart. "So, now look at the target. Not the kunai. Breathe in, breath out and let it fly."
Koguma screwed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them with a snap to focus on the target standing a hundred steps away from him. He breathed into his stomach, like he had been taught and let the air flow out of him at a steady pace. His arm drew back, before it snapped forward, forcing the kunai to fly out of his grasp with speed. It hit just a hand-width away from centre. Pure disappointment was coursing through him and he had to resist the urge to stomp his feet in frustration.
"It's alright. Nothing to be ashamed off. As far as I've heard, Kama's shots are way more unpredictable than yours."
"Tousan-"
A hand gripped down firmly on his shoulder. "You shouldn't take everything tousan says so seriously. You're still young. Let me worry about anything he wants."
"But onichan-"
"Come on now. Let's try again. Maybe you can show Kama how good you've become during the next clan-meeting?"
At first a smile had spread onto his lips, but as his brother finished his sentence his shoulder's sagged as he dipped his head backward and pouted, "But that's months away."
He saw a small smile peeking out behind a curtain of reddish-brown hair. "With a bit of luck, we'll have a joint hunt again. Then you can show off much sooner." The head turned, pale eyes looking out of a shadowed face. "But first you need to improve, no? Perhaps the both of you can take down a rabbit together then."
"Yeah."
He opened his eyes and blinked blearily against the morning sun trying to find its way through his parched windows. A slight groan rumbled through his chest and a shiver ran down his spine as he noticed that he had pushed the blanket away from him during the night, leaving him merely on his furs for warmth. His room smelled like sweat, weapon polish, unwashed clothes and-
"Go away," he croaked, blindly grabbing for his blanket and pulling it over his head.
"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Kama sang from his crouching position to the right of him. "Really, not going to chug me into the Nara river like you had threatened you'd do?"
Koguma didn't grace him with an answer and instead pulled the blanket even tighter around himself.
"Why is it that I had to hear of your return from the guards at the entrance? Ashamed of getting injured on a B-rank?" Of course he knew, had probably smelled the injuries on him, if not seen hints of bandages. A hand ghosted across his back above the blanket, forcing Koguma to bite his tongue lest he hiss underneath the pain radiating from the tender wounds. He shuffled out of his reach, having to realise that Kama wouldn't simply go, so he rolled onto his stomach and achingly got up from his position. He felt sticky and warm underneath the long-sleeved shirt and trousers he had worn to bed, certain that he needed a bath and the bandages should be swapped.
"You okay there, Kogu? You look a bit flushed." His words were teasing at first, but seeing Koguma's slightly glazy eyes, his gaze hushed down to the bandages surely peeking out of his collar. Maybe he needed to start wearing turtle-necks like that albino from now on. Kama's hand snapped forward as if wanting to touch his forehead, but Koguma batted it away.
"Don't touch me." He pushed himself up on his feet and, underneath Kama's scrutinizing gaze, made his way over to a jar of water standing on his dresser. It was empty after eight gulps. "What do you want, Kama?"
"I-" A pause. "Just checking in on you."
"I'm alright." He let out an exhausted sigh and opened his dresser to take out a fresh set of clothes. "Anything else?" he asked, still facing the wall.
"I-" Kama started again. "Do you need help?" The words were spoken with such a genuine care that it made Koguma relax from his defensive stance.
"No." Turning around he saw the silver-haired man still crouching down next to his furs, hooded-eyes dripping with worry. "I'm fine. I'll come over for breakfast in an hour, if you want."
Kama luckily took the dismissal also as the olive branch that it was and rose from his position himself. "Yeah, of course. See you in an hour."
The warning of him coming back if Koguma hadn't shown up by then was audible. It almost made him want to chuckle. "In an hour," he confirmed and shot Kama a small smile. His friend's returning grin was still slightly crooked and unconvincing, but he left nevertheless. It was really more than Koguma could have hoped for. He hadn't left Madara alone when he had told him to. Maybe the advantage of still being sound of mind that Kama trusted him to not get himself killed.
Rather stiffly, he made his way to his back garden to pump up some water from the well. Seeing that he only had an hour, he forwent heating it up in the kitchen and instead used a small fire-jutsu to warm the iron pot. It was something you really could do only a limited number of times, since the instant heating and cooling put a strain on the material, making it crack after a while. He sat down on a large boulder he had placed at a protected part of his garden where no one would be able to spot him so easily.
Some of the bandages stuck to the slightly oozing wounds, forcing him to crunch his teeth in pain. Once off, he took a soft cotton cloth and began washing himself head to toe, only dapping very gently at the injuries. Some of them had begun healing rather well, even those Yasashiko had burnt out, while others were reddened and warm underneath his touch. Once he was satisfied with his work, he washed his hair as well over the pot, glad to get rid of the sweat still clinging to it.
When he was all washed up, he took up a little box of salve Risu had given him what felt like a life-time ago and lightly dapped it across the infected wounds. Really- either they started to heal or they didn't. There was nothing more Koguma could do without having to visit the hospital. Then he wrapped some fresh bandages over the wounds that still weren't healing, covered his usual scars over his arms and legs and lastly dressed himself in loose trousers and a long-sleeved shirt.
He stood before Kama's porch with three minutes to spare. The Hatake was already sitting on it, a low table in front of him and all sorts of little dishes placed upon- soup, rice, vegetables, meat-
"I never knew you could cook." One of the steps leading up to the porch groaned underneath his weight as he made his way to him.
"Don't pat me on the back yet, you haven't tasted it." With a slight groan he got down in a cross-legged position at the other side of the table and took up a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks. When he plopped a bit of it into his mouth, he paused, eyes locking onto Kama's.
"I think I put too much salt in it."
"A bit," Koguma agreed easily, forgoing to mention that there shouldn't be salt in rice to begin with, but still swallowed down his mouthful underneath Kama's anxious gaze. "But it's eatable." To underline his statement he shoved another mouthful between his teeth, making his friend's downtrodden gaze lighten up.
"You don't have to eat it."
"But I'm starving."
Kama shook his head, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Fine." He lifted his own bowl and just as determinately ate his way through it.
They sat in silence during their meal, the sun slowly retreating from the porch as it rose higher in the sky. The first hibiscus-flowers were fluttering down the bush as birds hopped onto the branches- with its purple colour it was a slightly darker twin to the one in Sutoro's back garden. The air was mild and heavy with the scent of late summer flowers. It was peaceful.
Once he had cleared the last of the thin soup, he leaned back in his position, trying to take some of the stress off the pulsing injuries. "Anything planned for today?" Kama spoke up. He had abandoned his food a while ago and had instead resorted to facing the garden, while keeping his gaze on Koguma out of the corner of his eyes.
"Watching the clouds?" Koguma ventured, not really feeling up to anything today.
"Okay."
"Okay?" A chuckle rose up in him. "Don't you got anything better to do? Like training, or taking on a mission or doing whatever duties the son of a clan-head has to do?"
Kama shrugged his shoulder, before he leaned back onto his hands, his head turning back to Koguma. "Probably. But cloud-watching sounds more fun."
"Fun? I'll probably nod away after an hour." He stretched his right leg underneath the table, mouth pressing into a thin line as he shifted.
"Napping sounds fine to me."
Koguma didn't reply and instead robbed slightly away from the table to lie in a warm spot of the porch illuminated by the sun. Very carefully, he leaned back down, until he was lying flat on his back. He groaned as he stretched his legs completely and moved to lay his right arm behind his head. The wound at the left hand side of his neck pulsed in protest, but he ignored it. With a deep sigh he opened the eyes he hadn't even noticed were scrunched together and instead gazed upwards into the deep blue sky. Some soft little tufts of clouds were ever so slowly moving across it and occasionally a bird would fly through the scenery.
"How can you still not hate me?" he whispered after a moment.
"Do you want me to?" Koguma shook his head. "Then I never will."
"Why?"
"Because you were the first one to like me because of my flaws, not despite them." Clothes rustled as Kama turned his head to watch the scenery in his back garden as well. "You made a little boy feel good about being himself. You make me feel good about being myself." Guilt twisted in Koguma's stomach as he thought back to all the times he had pushed Kama away because it had simply been too much of him. "It's okay, Kogu," his friend added almost softly as if he had spoken his thoughts out loud. "I think I sometimes need a line drawn in the sand. Otherwise I'd never know when to stop."
After a short moment he heard Kama standing up and dishes clutter as he moved to put them away. The clouds continued drifting across the sky, stretching wide and thin until it only vaguely veiled the deep blue. He must have spaced out already at some point, because suddenly Kama was sitting down next to him, holding up a cushion for him to see.
"Come on, Kogu, before your arm grows numb." It already was when he lifted his head in silent agreement, but he didn't say anything, too pleased with the feeling of the plush pillow cradling his head to bother opening his mouth. "What happened?"
He hummed upon the soft question, taking a deep breath through his nose- hibiscus, wet fur, ozone, straw, warm cotton, lush grass, oiled wood, minty herbs-
Feeling the deep pull of sleep coming over him, his eyelids drooped down. The warm sun was lulling and the scents surrounding him were clouding his mind. "Just a mission. I was too slow."
A short pause. "I was worried."
"Mh. Don't be." He bothered cracking one of his eyes open, feeling the heavy silence. Kama sat cross-legged next to him, his back hunched as he rested his elbows onto his thighs. His ponytail was hanging over his right shoulder, slightly swaying in the air with his breaths.
"Take me with you next time. Don't go solo again."
A sleepy grin spread onto his face and he closed his eyes with a satisfied hum. "I will." He reached out with his hand, sure his earlier request of not wanting to be touched was still echoing through Kama's mind, and got rewarded with slender fingers hooking around his.
He let himself fall asleep with a deep and relaxed sigh.
The ground scrunched underneath his steps, the first autumn leaves starting to litter the ground. He dipped his head back with a calm breath, the corner of his mouths lifting ever so slightly. He was determined to enjoy the fresh air for a moment longer. Another set of footsteps walked a tad desynchronized next to him. He reached out and tugged his brother close to his side.
"Ah, Susumu, I'm sure Kikyo will forgive you."
"You weren't there!" he whined miserably. "She had worked on the kimono for months, months! How was I supposed to know it was hanging out to dry? Not my fault!"
"Yeah, really, how could you have known that it would be a bad idea practicing your kata's with paint-traps?"
His brother pouted, actually to god stomped his feet and pinched his lips as he tried to slither out of his embrace. "Don't you mock me, Koguma!" Feathery hair bounced up and down with his fruitless attempts, making Koguma chuckle upon the sight. "She was furious-"
"Oh yes, a little puppet of a woman with hair the colour of strawberries would be quite the fearsome opponent to face-"
"-and she chased me with her chopping board. Chopping board! Any sane person would use the wooden spoon, or a kunai, but she came at me with three kilo of massive wood! Right on my head!"
Koguma was cackling as he pulled his brother even tighter and playfully threatened to push his lips onto his head. "Shall I kiss away your achy-aches? Maybe sing you a little song-"
"It's not funny, Koguma!"
He pressed an audible smooch onto his hair, before erupting in laughter upon his pink ears. "Oh, I disagree. It very much is," he hiccupped breathlessly. "What a deathly shinobi you are. Kami, it's almost embarrassing that I taught you. What are people supposed to think?"
Finally, Susumu managed to stumble out of his grasp, slightly losing his balance as he put a healthy distance between him and Koguma. "You weren't there. You're never there when she's like that. If you were, you'd understand."
In a matter of seconds, Koguma sobered up, his gaze turning icy as he processed the words. "If she's actually hurting you, you need to tell me, Susumu."
Now it was Susumu's turn to stop in his tracks, his eyes blowing wide upon the turn Koguma's thoughts had taken. "No," he breathed, before stepping up to him and almost raising his hands in surrender. "It's not like that. Shit, Kogu. I'm just whining. Just whining, nothing more. She's a good woman."
Koguma held his gaze for a second longer, hands achingly slow unclenching at his sides, before a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes spread onto his face once more. "Good."
"Koguma, I swear, she's good. Too good for me, actually. She's not hurting me. Not any more than I deserve anyway." He cringed seeing his eyebrows scrunch together in distaste, the crease between them sharpening. "No, she's not- she's not- shit, Kogu. It's alright."
"You know I'd always look after you?"
"I do, I do."
"Good."
Susumu shared a hesitant smile with him, which Koguma returned after a moment, his own gaze softening again. They took up their walk through the Hatake compound.
"What are you looking all fancy for anyway?" Susumu ventured after a while, eyeing his clothes. "Since when do you wear turtle-necks? Maybe you hate the albino so much, because you actually have a crush on him-" That earned him a hard knock on his head. Susumu smirked in reply. "A clan meeting?" he pushed, tugging slightly against the deep green haori he was wearing above the dark shirt.
"Yup."
"You sound thrilled."
"Oh, I can barely contain myself."
Susumu snorted hearing his dry remark. "Doesn't that mean I'll need to come as well?"
Koguma lifted his eyebrows at that and shot his brother a deadpan look. "I actually always make sure you don't have to. If you want, you can- but once you start, you're in."
"Ugh, no thank you," he sing-sang. "Although I am curious what you're all doing during them."
"Talk, complain, argue, talk." He shrugged his shoulders. "Boring as hell." Lifting his head to stare off into the distance he added, "There was a time where such meetings actually carried weight, when everyone had a say. Now it's really just Sutoro informing us about the decisions he made and he'll continue to make. Nothing more."
"Sounds lame."
"It is." Further down the road, Kama stepped out of his house, the slate grey haori and hakama swooshing with his sauntering steps as he walked onto the road. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, Koguma saw the sneer spreading on Susumu's face, making his nose scrunch, eyes narrow and teeth peak out ever so slightly. "Why do you hate him so much?" he asked, using the chance since Kama hadn't spotted him yet.
"He's an asshole."
"So are you sometimes."
He scoffed and crossed his arms in front of him. "Because he's trying to replace Risu," he spat out after a moment.
"He could never do that."
"I know and yet he tries to." A hint of accusation coloured Susumu's tone as he added, "And you're letting him."
"Should I not?" The question was a genuine one and shortly took the wind out of Susumu's sails. His arms loosened and his mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. By that time Kama had already spotted Koguma and lazily trudged over to them.
"Kogu," Kama called out with a grin, "ready for hour-long discussions?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." He spared another look at Susumu's still dumbfounded expression. Then walked into step with Kama, moving further into the district and left Susumu to stew over his question on his own.
The closer they got to the compound, the more Hatake joined them. Koguma's eyes hushed over the pitiful number, pale blues almost getting lost among the slaty grey. He hadn't even noticed that he had tensed up ever so slightly, until Kama joked, "What devastating thing had happened to lure Susumu further into the compound? Lost his hairnet?"
A soft snort escaped Koguma as his eyes still darted around the other clan members surrounding them. "Ah, some marital dispute. Any advice?"
"Keep as far away from that as possible?" Kama drawled back. His own eyes now locked onto his wife's figure dressed in the pale blue yukata. She was barely nine weeks along, so no true sign of her pregnancy could be seen, but she looked miserable. Probably one of those unlucky women who didn't glow up while expecting, but rather ended up emptying their stomach every morning and night into a bedpan.
"From marriage?"
"From women."
The ferocity of that statement made Koguma almost laugh out loud. "Shouldn't have married one then."
"Unfortunately they're necessary for the whole process of having children."
"Pity."
"Indeed."
He shortly clapped Kama's back seeing his miserable expression, before shoving him into the longhouse. Once inside, he took a closer step up to him, leaned across Kama's shoulder and whispered into his ear, "Wouldn't it be more efficient fucking as many of them as possible?"
His friend shortly chocked on thin air, making Koguma clap his back to save him from suffocating. "Hard enough managing to fuck one already," he hissed back after a moment, his voice somewhat shaky. One of the older members turned back to them in shock, most certainly having heard Kama's words. Koguma merely sent him an intimidating sneer to mind his own business. He picked a spot on the other side of the hall. Clever man.
He leaned further down, letting his breath fan against the man's bare neck and almost purred into Kama's ear, very pleased upon feeling the shudder run down his spine, "Perhaps you need to switch partner." Then he gave him a decisive shove towards the platform. "Have fun up there with Sutoro." Koguma grinned wide upon his friend's incredulous look, his cheeks flushed deep red and mouth slightly parted, before Kama tried to compose himself and walked up to his father. They always thought him so naïve and innocent- how foolish. Koguma had gone through puberty alongside Susumu. He knew all the tricks. Seeing Sutoro's eyebrows furrow and nose scrunch as his son sat down next to him definitely belonged to the top ten of most entertaining moments in Koguma's life. Fantastic. Way to make a boring meeting interesting and Kama embarrassed.
The meeting was tedious- of course it was. Sutoro recited things the village council had agreed on (which basically translated to the hokage having ordered something and the rest putting it into writing), the new numbers having joined the rank of jounin and the latest statistics from mission's Hatake had taken on. Koguma was certain no other clan sported such a high percentage of S- and A-ranks. He was certain no other sported such high casualties.
His eyes fluttered across the nineteen active shinobi still left – a fourteen-year old had joined their ranks two weeks ago. He looked boyish, silver hair chopped short enough to almost pass for baldness. But his grey eyes were hardened as they met his gaze head on- he must had been just a toddler when he escaped Yama no haru. One of the last generation of younglings still born in the Hatake mountains. Baa's widow was sitting two people down from him, her fists clenching into her yukata as she noticed his gaze, but she refused to acknowledge his presence. She had kept this up for over two years after all, would be a pity to break tradition now. Gengaku sat next to Nari, actually managing to look interested as he listened to Sutoro's blabber.
"And lastly I had been called to the hokage's office yesterday." The strained sound of his voice made him snap out of his contemplation and instead share his attention. He wasn't the only one stirring, as the other members had felt the shift in mood as well. "A report had reached Mito-san from Uzushio- one of their districts had been attacked and nearly an entire clan eradicated in a single night."
The man's mouth twisted in badly repressed anger. "I was asked to not share this information with you, but I think it is your right. You deserve knowing this, even when they kept it from us for over a month." His eyes shortly locked with every member, before he said, "The Kitsune had apparently found shelter with the Uzumaki-"
The hall fell into uproar, a few members audibly growling, others baring their teeth and some even tensing as if to leap to their feet.
"Who did they betray this time?" a middle-aged Rinkusu shouted, shaking his fist against Sutoro.
"You misunderstand," the man barked, trying to regain the attention of his clan. "It was them massacred." Silence spread through the room, almost echoing with the obvious emptiness resulting from too few people filling it. "They were killed in Uzushio, right before the Uzumaki's doorstep." Some of the members that had jumped onto their feet dropped down again in a daze.
"Who?" one Okami spoke up, his eyes darting through the hall as if expecting someone to claim it. "It had to be one of us-"
"That's what Hashirama-sama and Tobirama-san thought as well. That is why they asked me to share any suspicion about any of my people." He paused, his sharp canines flashing as his upper lip pulled back into a snarl. "As if I'd ever betray one of us, even if I knew."
"Maybe the Inoshishi or Fukuro-" Gengaku ventured.
Sutoro shook his head. "No. They had left the clan four and six generations ago. Our grievances are no longer theirs."
"Who?" the first Okami almost demanded. As if he needed to know to regain closure.
"Does it matter?" Kama spat. "They're dead."
"How could you not know?" Baa's widow spoke up, staring at Sutoro. "How could you not know that our hokage's wife, her clan had sheltered them? Had taken them in after their betrayal? How could you not know that the village we joined has an alliance with a village sheltering those responsible for the fall of our home?" Her voice broke underneath her anger and disbelieve, eyes red and brimming with helpless tears. "How did you not know?!"
Sutoro's mouth drew into an unhappy frown, having no answers to her questions. Of course he hadn't known, otherwise they would have never joined the village. And the possibility of not gaining one of the fiercest clans must have bothered those cold-hearted Senju bastards deeply. Obviously they'd never tell.
Koguma's gaze hushed across the members once more, taking in their rage, anger, the old wounds torn open once again. But when he came to the young Okami, he found the boy already staring back at him, his dark eyes inquisitive and curious. "How come you don't say anything, Kuma-san?" His voice was hushed and croaked ever so slightly, as if he was amidst the phase of breaking voices all teenagers found themselves at.
Koguma simply cocked his head, his eyes narrowing in silent request for him to elaborate.
"I can't remember the other Kuma, but from all the stories I heard, your family had been supposed to be unforgiving. 'Roaring like a Kuma' is a phrase my father had used whenever someone snapped." He mimicked his slightly tilted head. "So how come you don't say anything?"
Koguma felt all eyes on him. He leaned forward in his position and let out a steady breath through his nose. "What do you expect of me? Do you want me to roar?" His lips stretched into a mocking grin, the tips of his fangs peeking out underneath. "I think the rest of the clan is doing that rather well without my help." He waited until the boy started to visibly stiffen underneath his gaze and then turned back to Sutoro. "They'll find themselves opposite all of our dead soon enough, if they haven't already. Let them try and justify their actions before them."
"Spoken like your tousan, Koguma." He dipped his head as of if in gratitude of the compliment, but rather used the chance to hide the mocking twinkle to his eyes. Sutoro cleared his throat and proclaimed, "Are there any other points we need to address?"
That was definitely the wrong thing to say, as everyone started to speak over the other, raising concerns to the amount of trust that could be given to Hashirama and Tobirama now, how they should react to the Uzumaki and their insult, what should be done with the Kitsune still left-
Koguma stared blankly at the opposite wall. He could brace himself for sitting here for another three hours at this rate. Feeling someone's eyes on him, he turned to face Kama. He was looking at him with his hooded eyes, the clocks in his head visibly turning as they flickered to the turtle-neck he was wearing. Koguma replied his gaze head on, not showing anything on his face but absolute boredom. He saw the precise moment suspicion turned into absolute conviction in the stilling of his friend's breathing, his blank face, the eyes staring head on- and then Kama plastered on a smirk and jumped head first into the arguments.
When they had finally adjourned (not ended) the meeting, he was beside him the second he stepped out of the hall. He said nothing, but in the protection of the darkness reached for his bandaged hand and gave it a short squeeze. Once they were far enough from anyone to would hear, he whispered, "You could have told me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I could've helped." He paused. "The wounds-"
"I told you, I had been too slow."
"It wouldn't have mattered if I had had your back." Koguma stopped in his steps and turned to face Kama. "You could've died," he added with a pressed voice.
"We can always die. That is the life of a shinobi."
Kama took a step closer, eyes pleading as he beseeched, "Take me with you the next time you do these things. Take me with you always."
Koguma's face softened and his beady eyes glowed with warmth. "I told you I would already." He hesitated as if wanting to say more, but after a moment his lips pinched into a thin line and the crease between his eyebrows deepened. With an almost self-loathing scoff he turned around and walked onwards, Kama's hasty steps soon catching up to him.
They walked back to their houses with only the sounds of leaves crunching underneath their synchronised footsteps accompanying them.