Title: When Life Deals You Olives
Author: iniq
Characters: Asuma, Genma
Rating: PG
Category: gen, drama
Challenge: #36 (blanket fic)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Masashi Kishimoto. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
When Life Deals You Olives
--
It was cold in the forest at night at this time of the year. Asuma wasn't sure where Genma had wandered off to. He hadn't been at Hayate's grave, neither at his family's – the forest was the next option. Asuma slung the strap of the backpack over his other shoulder, relieving the right one of its weight. Then he stopped in the breeze, turned and lit another cigarette.
"Genma?" he tried quietly. There was no need to yell. No one had to know about this.
He looked up into the tree tops, expecting his friend to sit there, dangling his legs down like he used to do when he had been younger. There was, however, no reaction, but the quiet rustling of leaves. He went on and tried again a little further down the path. This time, he heard the quiet shuffle of feet against wood, and he climbed to one of the lower braches.
"Go home, Asuma," came the quiet rebuke.
"Can't," he replied grumpily; not really. He climbed his way toward the source of the sounds he heard and finally sat down next to Genma on the old tree. "I brought you a blanket," he said quietly. "They worried you might get cold." Which was a lie. No one was missing Genma, not so shortly after the mission report had been handed in and he was on his three days sick leave that usually came with S class missions. "And olives," he added after finding a glass hidden in the depths of the backpack.
Genma looked at him. "And alcohol?"
Asuma shook his head. "You don't need alcohol. You need a good night's sleep in your bed, not up on a tree." He unscrewed the cap of the glass and plopped an olive in his mouth, testing – he was unsure how long they'd been there.
The other man shook his head. "Can't," he said tersely. His eyes said the rest.
"She left?" Asuma asked bluntly.
"Yeah," Genma replied. He speared an olive with his senbon and brought it to his lips listlessly.
"It was to be expected," came the answer. Asuma watched Genma still for a moment. Then, Genma popped the olive into his mouth.
"Yeah," he said with his mouth full.
"But you didn't want it to end," Asuma guessed. It was so hard to get Genma to talk these days. Hayate had been the last one to really connect with him.
Genma shrugged at that. "No. I came home yesterday, and I didn't expect… she had made her mind up."
Asuma wanted to be angry for his friend, but found himself lacking the energy. "Yesterday?" he wanted to know. He hadn't thought the woman that cold. On the other hand, it was better than telling Genma before he went on a mission.
"I… Maybe…" Genma didn't continue. Instead he stabbed another olive and chewed it with the same listless detachment.
Asuma didn't know if his friend even liked olives. "She won't come back. Not this time," he tried carefully. Genma was too old for hope.
"I know." Genma slumped over. "That's okay."
Grumpily, because it was expected of him, Asuma pulled the blanket around his friend and tugged him close. He rested his cheek against Genma's temple and waited. They would spend the night, probably, forty feet above ground level, dangling their feet from a tree.
--