first patrol
Asuma

The forest is pitch dark at this hour, and ghostly quiet. I kinda like it.

In the stillness of tonight there are no extra sounds. No crickets, no cicadas. All I can hear is the rush of the wind in the trees and my own heart beating in my ears. The earth beneath my feet smells like ash and dusty leaves. Above, the moon is just rising, a sliver more full than it had been last night. The air is cool and soft on my face, and the sky is brilliant with stars.

This is the kind of night I can't sit still. The air feels electric and the wind pulls at me, urging me forward. When I'm tired enough and the mood is right, everything feels charged and wild. I just want to run and run and fight and scream until I can't breathe anymore. Go ahead and laugh at lazy ass wanting to do something for a change. Don't you ever feel that way once in a while, or is it just me? Like you just gotta do something or you'll disappear. Proof of existence and all that.

Anyway. I like nights like this. It's a good night for our first patrol. Despite my lousy mood at the meeting earlier this morning, things had gone well with the team today and then I had gotten a nice long nap to make up for the ungodly early awakening. I'm in a good mood for work. Better enjoy it while it lasts.

Sector E turns out to be a thickly wooded sector. I suppose it's suited to my style well enough. Plenty of places to hide and plenty to stop opponents from getting away quickly. Trees make a nice obstacle to close the enemy in, and they're also great for making traps as well. Chase the target, trap, engage, kill. That's my way of getting this done. My running speed is okay, of course, but if I can get away with finishing them off without having to chase them all over the place, I'll opt for that.

The first hour was spent simply skirting the perimeter of the area together. I find Kurenai's speed on foot very impressive. Her limbs are light and easily adapted to running silently through trees and underbrush alike. It's hard for me to stay quiet at times. I'm clumsier, I guess. I usually opt for the ground if I have the option because I find that the momentum is easier to stop. So she covered the high road and I the low.

She is running along with me, up above and a short distance behind. I can feel her eyes trained on my back. I can't get a good read on her mood so far. She seems tired or uncomfortable, I suppose. She hadn't spoken to me much at check-in so it was hard to say. I'm no mind-reader.

Kurenai showed up wearing different clothes than I usually see her wearing-- she's got her vest on over her usual white garment, and a pair of black pants underneath. Forgive me when I say this, but a million of us guys can wear the flak vests and combat pants and look non-descript, but when you see the same clothes on a nice-looking woman, I mean damn. Makes us look pretty shabby. The clothes look way better on her. Er, anyway. I was saying. She looks tough and cool tonight, and she isn't feeling chatty. In other words... the usual?

At first as we began to move through the trees, her stance was tight and her posture quite rigid, shoulders held defensively. But now we have completed a circuit around the perimeter of our sector and I get the feeling she too is starting to relax a bit. Her steps are silent and soft and her arms move loosely with her momentum.

"See anything?" Kurenai asks me over the wireless. Her voice is rich and smooth in my ear. It tickles.

"Dead as a doornail here," I reply. There is absolutely nothing to be seen anywhere. Nary a squirrel is out tonight. Kind of makes me wonder if we really have to be here, to be honest. "You?"

"Same." she answers. She is thinking, you can hear it in her tone. "I want to find a good vantage point." Kurenai really is by-the-book, I notice. Scout the perimeter. Then if there are no leads to follow, find a lookout point and survey the area from there. Those are procedures straight from the manual. Procedures I often... kind of skip. Or at least sort of make a half-assed effort at carrying out.

"Okay," I agree. "I'll keep moving around down here and see if I see anything."

"Got it," she replies. I turn and begin a wide circle around the area where she'll be. This is going to be a pretty unusual battle arrangement for me, teaming with Kurenai. I'm usually the backup. I'm not used to being the main dish as far as fighting goes, but it might be a good experience for me. I could use the workout, anyway. If need be, I'll handle the brunt of the work here, and she can pick off any that get away.

I still don't know anything about her abilities or style yet. She hasn't really offered any information, so I'm left to guess for myself. I figure she's more of a ranged attacker than anything else. Those lightly boned arms of hers probably can't handle sustained heavy close-range action. Maybe that's one reason why she only now became jounin. She seems quiet and thoughtful-- maybe even a little too thoughtful-- and so I'd say she is probably good at setting up traps and using tags and stuff as opposed to anything real in-your-face. Not to mention, the white outfit and polished manicure leads me to think she's probably the type who doesn't like getting her hands too dirty. Maybe she's into medicine or something. A lot of kunoichi are med-nin types.

So I scout around for a little while, then opt for stopping under a tree. I've run out of juice and therefore it is time for a break. Without even thinking about it I slip my hand into my pocket for my pack and tap a fresh new one out. I guess it's become involuntary motion by now, like blinking. I light up and let myself relax a little. The paper cylinder feels comfortable between my fingers, smooth and clean and white, so unlike my lungs...

Shuff, shuff, snap, shuff. The sound of human movements from a distance away catches my attention at 7-o-clock. Behind me, crap. Tucking away my lighter hastily, I get down and move in that direction, keeping to the shadows. Of course, I don't bother to put out my cigarette. I guess after all, I'm a Sarutobi through and through. You know, one of my uncles loved to brag that he and his brothers were so fast, that they smoked in battle just to give the enemy a fair chance. I don't think that's quite the case with me, of course. I think it's more like I'm too damn cheap to throw away a perfectly good smoke. "Got something," I mutter into the wireless. "To the southeast, maybe 40, 60 meters from me."

"How many?" Kurenai asks me. If she's apprehensive, it's barely detectable. I think she's got a lot more self-control than the average woman I know. Then again, this judgement might be a tainted one, based on the fact that my female cousins and their weird friends are a pretty rowdy bunch. Oh, stories I could tell you.

"Can't tell," I reply. "Movin' on for a a closer look." They hadn't been moving too fast, so I don't either. Best to sneak up on them and get a handle on how many there were and what I was up against before I jumped in, right?

"Ah-ha. I see them," Kurenai says softly in my ear, keeping her voice low. "There're a few groups of three... Wait, there are more. I'm coming down."

"Traps," I warn her, getting out my blades and sliding my fingers through the familiar cold metal holes. "One, two... at least seven visible. Wires and tags. If you move, be very careful."

"I'll circle around from behind them," she murmurs. "We can go from each side."

"No, wait." I protest. That was much too dangerous. Over half of them were sure to go after her, just assuming she'd be the easier kill. "You should get behind me and then we'll go together."

"Do you need help?" she asks me.

"Nah," I answer.

"Neither do I," she replies, pointedly. "So let's do this."

What the? I'm left blinking at the transceiver. I have a major bad feeling about doing it that way. How is she supposed to back me up if she's on the other side? And besides, shouldn't she be listening to me? I do have a lot more experience than she presently does, after all. She needs me to watch out for her in case things got serious. Come on, Kurenai, work with me here.

I spot some enemies creeping forward through the trees. They have no insignia visible on them, which means either they're just common thugs or bandits-- or that one of the villages is sending units to spy on Konoha without being held accountable for it. I can see at least 6 units in this group and a bunch more in the background. Then there is glimpse of white face and dark hair in the distance, and Kurenai has arrived in the trees at the back of the squadron.

"Kunoichi," one of the enemy yells, pointing her out. "Just one, moving. Trees at three o'clock."

"Puny bitch. Get 'er!"

Crap, shit, and dammit. What the hell is she thinking! All I can do now is try and distract attention from her to save her. I jump out and charge through the middle of the small group of enemy nin, giving a loud roar for extra surprise factor. A bunch of them turn, startled to see me bearing down on them. They turn tail and retreat a length into the trees to redouble their position. I follow right on their trail. They stop when they've found a good open area in the trees and turn to take me on. Three of them are to my right, three more hang back in the rear as support. I can't see Kurenai or the enemy units that had chased after her. This was not the way I would have chosen to do this at all. I had better finish this quick and catch up with her.

The three to my right get out weapons. I see shuriken and short swords on one, senbon and large kunai on another, and a chain and sickle on the third. All three are men, dressed in non-descript brown and gray. They have flakvests but no marks or insignia to identify them. This is a pain because as such, there was no way to guess what level or kind of jutsu they might be likely to use.

"Take him out," one of the supporting group orders his companions. "Then get the fancy napkin he's got on there. He's worth some dough."

Oh-ho, so they aren't commoners, they know something or other about the infrastructure of Konoha. Okay, this is either going to be child's play or an absolute bitch. Which is it, guys? Channeling chakra into my knives, my fancy napkin and I get ready. I want to wait for them to make the first hit so I can see what kind of moves they've got.

Now of course, this next part happened very quickly, but when you're fighting time seems to slow down. In battle, a lot happens in extremely rapid succession. If you blink, it's all over, so you can't waste anything. You have to have your senses tuned and ready, or you're dead meat in no time. And I don't plan on going home as the dead meat tonight. Sure, that's unfortunate for these six guys because that obviously means they will be. But it's not like they're here in our sovereign territory to stop by for cookies and milk.

The shuriken come first, of course, being the fastest offensive weapon they've got. They're easily dodged. I twist out of the way and swing my hands up and down again, using chakra from my blades to block the flurry of senbon which come next. The rush of wind and energy knocks the little needles from their path and they drop useless to the ground. At this moment I hear a strong reaction of shock begin to go up from the supporting cell.

I grinned inwardly. Looks like they didn't guess I could do that. They had it coming though. Should have known that it was a bad idea to come into our territory and mess with me. At least they don't have to regret it long. If this is all they have to offer, they'll be dead soon enough anyway.

The third guy starts swinging around his sickle bit. That will take him a few seconds to get going, so it would be best to take out the source of the senbon. Those things can be a major pain in the ass-- hah, literally, even, I kill me-- and they're not easy to detect while occupied with other things. It's easy to get tagged with quite a few during a battle and not realize it until whatever the user had on them kicks in. Thus he is first on the list.

So I keep alert on the chain sickle while going after the senbon user with a cross punch to the face. He gets me with a few of the hairlike needles in the arm as I move, but it doesn't stop my momentum. My blade cuts through and his skull splits, the blood and chunks of brain matter continuing on with the punch's trajectory to spray the supporting cell behind him. I catch a quick shot of them before I turn away again. One is just a young kid. Looks horrified.

I don't really dig on seeing their faces most of the time. It's easier to concentrate on the weapons. The weapons are what wants to kill me, not the faces. Once you see facial expressions, you start to see people you know or knew in their features. When that happens, you familiarize the opponent, humanize them, and then that causes hesitation. And even a split of a spilt second's hesitation can mean your life. Don't misunderstand me, now, I'm a killer. It's my job. I was born into it, born with it and I'm good at it. I enjoy it, even, sometimes-- especially on wild nights like this. I just try not to look closely at the faces. I don't know why.

Incoming from the left. The short sword slashes towards my arm, which is still retracting from the punch. That's annoying. I shift my weight to my right leg and send a kick in that direction. This sends the guy back a few steps to restabilize. I take this opportunity to tear the needles back out of my arm before they can get knocked any deeper and cause more damage. The sickle has had a second to get some speed going, but isn't fully ready for a good throw yet. I would have liked to stop him before he got a chance to attack, of course, but the sword and shuriken will have to come first.

The sword user grabs another handful of shuriken and sends them flying with his spare hand. His throw is nothing special or tricky, so it's no challenge to dodge the straight flight path of the metal stars. They lodge without purchase into the trees behind me. Thunk, thunk-thunk. I throw my weight forward against the sword as he comes forward with another attack. Crossing my blades in front of my face not only blocks his swing, but it does some damage to his arms as well. He opens his mouth to yell about the pain but he doesn't get the opportunity to finish.

I stomp forward heavily and break my guard, using the movement to slash at his torso. Then I go for a swing aimed at the soft tissue of the chest between the shoulder and ribs to continue that arm damage. Don't need him waving that sword at me anymore, after all. He makes no block or parry. Simply starts to crumble. Fine, then, I'll finish him off. A hook to the liver, and he blubbers something unintelligible. Blood gushes from his side and he is done for.

Now that sickle is coming. I bob and weave to the outside to evade the first outward fling of chain. The wielder, laughing, snaps his weapon back. I make a slip to the left to make sure it won't get me in the neck and lop off my head. Instead he catches me in the deltoid of my right arm as he pulls the thing back towards his waiting hand. The metal is heavy and it drags roughly into my shirt and cuts into the flesh underneath.

That slows me down some, I'll admit. The guys in the back have by now had a total of seven seconds to realize exactly what was going on and see two of their men go down. I see the two older ones spring into action, also readying weapons. The last one, the little one, doesn't move.

I put out my hands from my body a bit and transfer a large amount of chakra to my arms. The blades burn pale and blue in the dark of the forest clearing. The light reflects off of the wet shine of their eyes and for a moment we all become ghosts in the eerie glow. Somewhere off in the distance a tag explodes. It could be Kurenai, but I don't have time to think about that for now. The sickle is swinging again, I can hear it whistling in the wind. It shoots out and catches me, wrapping around my left wrist. I smile, pleased. Good. Stupid took the bait.

With the chakra I have gathered into my arms, I grab onto the chain and yank with everything I've got, flinging him around me like a tetherball. Of course the sickle user is holding on too tightly to let go very fast, already having his grip and weight positioned to pull against mine. The chakra increases the power too much for the lightweight user to handle, and I send him flying into the tree opposite me. He hits head-first, equating a really quick death as his skull and spine make impact. The sound is thick and dull in our ears.

Then there are just three of them left. The kid is shaking like a leaf, horrified. The older two step in front of him. Both are equipped with quite an array of weaponry but they don't begin any seals or jutsu or anything. Enough with this. If these guys have nothing better to hit me with than average run-of-the-mill weaponry, there's no need for me to play dumb with them. They're just barely better than hired thugs, it seems. Most jounin would have used something with a little more finesse by now, you'd think. Game's over for them. Kurenai is probably in real danger at the moment, and it's up to me to go make sure she gets out alive.

I whip my left arm around once to shake off the wrapped chain. One of the remaining three charges towards me, knife held up in an impossibly unguarded position. I slash once and his throat is slit and he falls. The next one, the one who had seemed like the leader, comes. I block his swing and give him a jab to the stomach. He shrieks as he rolls onto the ground and squirms and then he lies still.

The last one is that kid. He is still just a little guy, maybe sixteen, seventeen years old. He's probably never fought against anything near my level before. He looks hopelessly green, and now all that he has left between him and me is a scroll in one hand and a kunai in the other, held so loosely it looks like it's about to tumble from his thin, trembling fingers. I don't look at his face. I can tell he's terrified from the shaking of his legs. I feel sorry for him so I finish him quickly and as painlessly as possible.

I turn and sprint in the direction in which I think the others might be. I can hear the sounds of running feet not far from where I am. As I crash through the underbrush I hear a scream from ahead that makes my stomach tighten. It's Kurenai.

I rush in through bushes and find myself behind some enemies who seem to have just arrived on the scene, about 40 meters or so ahead. I can see them standing in front of a giant tree, five of them, and they're not moving forward. I start to run towards them and find that in my haste I've stumbled into a mess of tags and wires. Shit. I fumble back, trying to see just how I came in and how best to get back out. At the same time, I try to make some sense of what's going on up ahead of me.

In the shadows at the foot of the tree is Kurenai. She's clutching her leg as if in pain. Is it broken? Sprained? What happened? Somehow her vest has been lost, and without it she looks very small, very feminine, and rather dangerously vulnerable.

"Did I get her? I got her!" One of the enemies is saying.

"What should we do with her?" Another asks. "Kill her? Or have fun with her first?"

Oh, hell no. I'll get them first. I start to run just by instinct and get snared by the razor-sharp wires I forgot were there. Now, only does that hurt like a mother, but it's kinda unsafe. I don't recommend you try that, should you ever be in the same situation. So like the crafty and subtle genius I am, I whip out my knives and start swinging blindly at anything in front of me in my hurry to get out. Some jounin, eh?

Meanwhile in the shadows below the tree Kurenai is sniffling. "No, please, wait," she begs, and then something really bizarre goes down. Something I totally wasn't expecting.

Kurenai raises her head, and I can clearly see her now as she gazes up at them. The look on her face stops me dead in my tracks in my effort to get over there and help her. This is an expression I've never, ever seen her make before. Her eyes are bright in the moonlight and the garnet gleam in them is lethal. As I watch, those perfectly painted lips twist upwards into a cold smirk. All five enemy nin freeze in place as though something horriying has seized them. Then all of them start grasping the air around them, clutching their throats.

I have cut myself free by now and I stagger forward, puzzled. The mood in the air is absolutely electric, as though something so very wrong is happening. The five enemy units who just a second ago were about to attack Kurenai are now terrified, eyes wide and rolling frantically, lips gaping for breath like a fish out of water. They are standing on their toes, clawing the air around their necks as though trying to pry away an unseen force. I hear the sound of choking and rasp attempts to cry and scream for help, but it is to no avail. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Then I realize what it is that Kurenai can do.

"Genjutsu," I utter to no one in particular, in surprise.

Kurenai falls like lighting from the tree above, and the injured Kurenai who had been at the foot of the tree disappears like a curl of smoke and scarlet leaves. She lands at the center of the semi-circle of men and whips out kunai with a fluid motion. In a whirl she turns, swinging her blades out and spilling all of their guts onto the ground as though it were a graceful dance. She twists around, the light and even dainty motion of her footsteps and outstretched arms comes as a jarring contrast to the explicit violence of what she's actually doing.

I've worked with kunoichi before, but I don't remember it being like this. I don't know if I've ever seen anyone move quite this way. Effortless, flowing, a leaf on the wind. The red of her lips and the flash of her eyes, the lines and curves of her body, and the blood running down everywhere around her, it's alluring and extremely forbidding at the same time. As she finishes the last one, she releases the genjutsu with a quick seal and lets them enjoy the sensation. The gruesome sound of their agony is blood-curdling.

I'm left openmouthed, astonished. I'm not sure whether I should congratulate her on a nice kill, or wet myself.

She turns once and finishes, smooth as silk. There is blood splattered all over her front, but it doesn't seem to bother her at all. Taking a step back, she nonchalantly produces a rag from the kunai holster on her thigh. She dabs the blood from her face and neck, wipes her bare left arm and then her right hand. Then she notices me standing there gaping like an idiot. I shouldn't have this kind of reaction, not after so many years of this. I really shouldn't. But I do.

"Asuma," she says, quietly, calmly. Her eyes are even more intimidating in the dark than they are in the daytime. The bottoms of her irises show a thin crescent of ruby red when the light hits them just right, like the light in the bottom of a glass of dark wine. The color is exactly the same as that gushing out of the still-dying men on the ground.

I try to form a reply. If I were more sharp-witted, I'd use this opportunity to give her a compliment-- while at the same time making myself look good-- and cover up the fact that that thing she did just now has me scared shitless. I rack my brain as quick as I can for a good line. Something suave, something rakish. Thanks for getting that for me, doll, but really, I could have handled it. Well, now. You're quite the vicious little thing, aren't you?

But the reply doesn't come. Nothing comes. All I manage to say is, "Whoa."

Kurenai looks at me and her mouth presses into a thin line. Then she drops her eyes and starts wiping the gore from her kunai. So I decide to play it cool. "Thought you were hurt."

She doesn't miss a beat, as usual. "If I were hurt, I'd use the wireless." Her voice is even and matter-of-fact as she speaks to me. She finishes wiping one kunai and pockets it neatly. Then she begins on the next.

"Right," I agreed, feeling sheepish. Oh yeah. "But I wasn't sure."

"The bunshin wasn't wearing a vest," she explained, industriously cleaning her second kunai. "I hoped you'd get the idea if you saw. I figured the enemies would be too stupid to notice something like that."

I cringe inwardly at this remark. In other words, I was too stupid as well. I'm not sure how to respond to that at all. "Oh."

Then there is silence. Uncomfortable silence. I wipe my knives off on my shirt and tuck them away. Yes, they're still dirty. I'll clean them later-- and no, not in the office sink. The disembowled men on the ground are silent now. Kurenai finishes her kunai and slips it into the kunai holster on her thigh. Then she stands quietly, looking as though she is not sure what to say next. She folds her arms and glances around the surroundings warily.

"Genjutsu?" I ask, without really thinking. I'm definitely at my most articulate this evening, aren't I? She must think I'm a moron among morons by now. I try for a more complete sentence. "Was that genjutsu?"

"Yes," Kurenai replies.

"I didn't know you could use genjutsu," I tell her. "That's interesting." And I'm not just saying that to be conversational. Genjutsu is kind of rare.

You know, I should have guessed Kurenai was a genjutsu user. It makes so much sense that I'm surprised I didn't see it sooner. I mean, genjutsu requires an immense amount of determination and control, both of which the woman seems to have loads of. It takes a lot of mental energy, as well. It can be really tiring for most people. When I was younger my teachers used to tell me I had a good capacity for learning genjutsu. But for some reason it always seemed like way too much work. I preffered getting things done with my fists much more than taking the time to mess with people's minds. It's so much more direct, and it takes a lot less studying. And incidentally, I find it much more satisfying.

"It's in my file," Kurenai points out, ever civil. Her words are measured and careful as she speaks to me, the way a mother might speak to a very stupid child. The 'you are really trying my patience, young man' sort of voice.

"Right," I agree, with a little laugh. "But who ever reads those?"

"I do," she answers. She inspects her manicure and adds, "I took the time to read yours."

"Oh." I say again, contrite. Oooh, I hear the peanut gallery in my head jeer. Moded. I swallow a big gulp of smoke and try to regroup.

The expression on her face is once again inscrutable. Her eyes are fixed on the bodies at her feet, as though she were trying to mentally rearrange all of the organs back into their proper places. Stomach, liver, bladder, pancreas. I blink once and then again, and find I have to take my smoke out of my mouth. "Kurenai."

"Hmm." She muses, her gaze not rising from the ground. "Right. We should get back to patrol."

I force a rueful smile for her benefit. "Well, either that or," I pause, glancing at the gruesome mess between us, "Can we at least relocate this sorry attempt at a conversation a little ways that way or something?"

At this Kurenai looks up, and her face appears as though she finds this droll. It comes out in two small huffs of her voice as she says, "All right."

I amble a little ways to the left a bit, away from her handiwork and of course, mine too. We stop when we reach a little hollow. The moon is beaming down between the massive trees, the light filtered by the myriad needles and leaves between us and the sky. It's quiet. I take a long drag of my cigarette, feeling much better.

"Here's good," I remark when I am satisfied we have reached a better spot for talking. I drop to the ground underneath a tree, complacent as a cow. She nods in reply and eyes me, watchful. To look at her face, it is bothering her that we aren't patrolling while on patrol. But I figure a few minutes won't hurt anything. I need a break anyway. I rummage around in my packs looking for something to tie up the dribbling cresent carved into my shoulder by our late sickle-throwing friend.

Kurenai stands a safe distance from me, observing. She notices my injury. "How did that happen?"

"Eh." I grunt, unable to find anything really good in my various pockets. "It was a chain sickle. Don't worry, it's not deep."

"I wasn't worried," Kurenai replies, smoothly. "You look fine." At this I snort, amused. She's no med-nin, that's for sure. No sympathy for the large and stupid. She's right, of course. I am totally fine. I just don't have anything useful in my pouches other than projectile weapons. Some gum, and an empty cigarette box, a tissue (used), and a broken rubber band. Why's that in there?

I dig through my pants pockets in vain. "Got anything in the way of bandages on you?"

She tosses a neat roll of white gauze at me, almost as though she had had it ready and waiting. I catch it in the air. "Oh. Hey. Thanks," I stub out my cigarette on the ground and stick the remains in my shuriken holster. It's bad to litter in primeval forests, kids. Time to set to work rolling up my sleeve to get the wound tied up. She stands there with her arms folded, looking on quietly.

"Genjutsu, huh," I ponder aloud. I should read her file, I guess. If I ever have to kill time in the office it might be useful to know. Hell, I wonder what my own file says. She read up on me so whatever they've got in there, she knows now. I bet it has all the good dirt on me, too. Heh.

I have gotten my sleeve up to my shoulder. The cut is thankfully clean and not so deep that it would cause permament damage or anything. I've had much worse many times over. It'll probably just be sore for a while, and soon enough it'll all be forgotten. No big deal. I wipe the dripping blood up with the fabric of my shirt. The sleeve is already pretty gunky with the blood that's been leaking since, so this doesn't do too much good-- but it's fine for now. I'll clean it up more when I get home. The holes the senbon made in my wrists have already clotted, thankfully. Doesn't seem like there was anything too strong on them-- otherwise I'd be feeling it by now. I've been poisoned enough over 27 years that the light stuff doesn't work too well anymore. I grin at the memory of our umarked and so very naive adversaries. Amateurs.

I grab one end of the gauze in my teeth. Tucking the halfway point of the bandage under my arm, I go about wrapping the loose end. Then a question occurs to me.

"What kind of genjutsu was it?" I ask, feeling a little uncharacteristically shy. I mean, I don't know if it's too personal of a question. If you could use your mind to mess with other people's, how would you do it? I don't want to pry or anything, you know? Genjutsu users-- or at least the ones I've worked with-- tend to be on the fussy side, after all. I think it's because they think too much. "If it's okay to ask."

"It was just simple stuff, really," she answers, her gaze trained on my wrapping job.

"I hadn't seen that before," I admit. I've seen genjutsu before, of course, but each user has their own moves and their own repertoire, so I've rarely seen the same jutsu used by more than one person. So it's hard to tell when you're seeing it used exactly what is going on. Now, if they were using it on you, that's a different story.

"You seem curious," Kurenai muses, still watching me. The corners of her lips curve upwards, as though she might smile but isn't sure about it.

I chuckle, holding one end of the bandage in my teeth while tying the other end around it in a knot. "Yeah, maybe. Genjutsu isn't something I've seen a lot of. And everyone has a different style." Most of my years have been spent doing escort and bodyguard work, after all. Genjutsu isn't something popularly used in those fields, it's a pretty taijutsu-heavy occupation.

She runs her fingers through her sleek hair and looks away, off into the distance. "I could show you if you want," she offers, breezily.

I gulp inwardly. Uh-oh. Now I've done it. The memory of the spooked feeling in my stomach from earlier creeps back to me. Do I really want to let her do that on me? No, thanks. I can feel myself start to get goosebumps again. On the other hand, I'm really curious. And I don't often get curious about things. So when I do I usually give in to it. I'm curious what she can do. I'm afraid of her and I wanna know why.

Speaking of which, wait. Is this a challenge? Does she know I'm afraid? Is she testing me? I regard her for a moment, trying to get a handle on just what is going on. Kurenai's eyes trail back to mine and then dart away, but her glossy lips are pulling into a rather satisfied little smirk.

My eyes narrow. Yes, that was definitely some sort of challenge. Well, fine. This will be one I won't let go. Not sure why, but that sassy little smile was too much for even lethargic old me.

"Sure," I shrug, forcing my tone to sound agreeable. "I'm game." I lumber to my feet and stand up to my full height. Now her eyes flit back to me, and her lower lip quivers just so. I give my newly bandaged left arm a good stretch, and while I'm at it, the right, too. Two can play at the intimidation game.

Her eyes blink quickly, one, two, three, and then she regains her poise. She tosses her hair over one shoulder. "All right, then. "

"Go for it," I tell her, summoning all of my rather limited bravado. Somehow this evokes the same feeling I had the time I got my ear pierced as a teenager. That cringing in the chair, get-it-over-with kind of feeling. It'll be over quick, I hope, and then at least I'll have my stupid question answered, and she won't smirk like that at me again. "I'm ready."

Kurenai's eyes flicker and she purses her lips, thoughtful. That smirk is now nowhere to be seen. She takes a few steps nearer until she is standing directly in front of me. "Just hold still."

"Will do."

She chews her bottom lip briefly, in thought. "I won't... do anything to you, don't worry. "

"I'm not worried," I return her words neatly to her, accompanied by a smirk of my own. It's a flat-out lie, but hah! Take that.

Her eyes widen when she hears this, and she gives me a fleeting smile in acceptance. "Here I go." Then begins a sequence of hand seals, not dropping her gaze from mine.

I'm not sure at exactly what point it happens, but I find that suddenly I can't take my eyes from hers. The red irises seem to catch and reflect back the pale moonlight as though they were giving off light in and of themselves. Her pupils dilate, growing wide and dark, and I feel disoriented. My head spins and I lose sight of her. Wasn't she just standing right in front of me?

Suddenly from behind me, a vine sprouts quickly from the ground. Then another on the left, and another before me. Their speed is impressive, I don't have much time to react. This must be a jutsu that's pretty easy for her, or one she is really comfortable using. I don't move to block them or break the jutsu, since she's just showing me, but it isn't easy. My body's instinct is to defend myself, so it's hard not attacking back when I usually would.

A vine catches my left wrist, and then another grabs each ankle. At first the tendrils feel cool and silky as they curl around my limbs, just the way the morning glories in our old garden used to grasp onto the trellis. But these vines are growing thicker and tighter by the instant, and now they begin to constrict, holding me in place. I find I can't move, and I feel the blood to my bound appendages start to cut off. Then one last vine sneaks around my throat, brushing lightly against the exposed skin between my shirt collar and my chin. I swallow, apprehensive. I know I said I would hold still, but this is rather creepy.

The vine wraps around my neck and then in an instant the ground drops out from under me, and I'm falling, falling, and dangling from the vine like a noose. Instictively I gasp and try to free my hands to grab at the chokehold. And then there is a small sighing sound in my ears like a puff of breath, and it all disappears.

I blink and roll my eyes around, getting my bearings. I'm standing on the forest floor again. Thank goodness for solid ground. One of my hands is held up still, one is at my throat. I let my raised arm drop slowly, letting reality sink back in. Kurenai is standing there, observing closely. She has broken the jutsu, her hands still making the final seal she used. She isn't smirking, and she isn't upset, either. She's just standing there, with no readable expression, just looking up at me.

I take a deep breath and rub at my throat. "Whoa," is all can say. "Whoa." Uh. I'm at a loss for what I'm supposed to say here. Am I supposed to play it cool or am I supposed to flatter her? I don't know which will help us work together better. Which one does she want? What does she want from me, anyway?

The dark wisps of her hair are teasing her cheeks in the wind. Beyond her thick bangs her eyes are watching me, somber and honest. She blinks once. Maybe she doesn't want anything from me. Maybe she doesn't really care about being honest or being buddies or anything, maybe she just wants me to shut up and leave her alone.

My heart is racing like a thoroughbred, so I plop myself back down under the tree. I take out a new cigarette and light it, gulping in the smoke and holding it in for as long as I can before exhaling. My fingers still feel a little weird from the effects of the jutsu and I fumble with the lighter a bit as I try to tuck it back into my pocket. I look up at the sky through the crisscross of tree limbs overhead and sigh, feeling my muscles relax again. My body feels tired now. I opt for the truth, since I'm too lazy to think up anything better. "That was pretty freaky," I tell her. "The vines were really... real. It felt real, I mean."

She blinks and a smile flickers across her features. Her reply is even and calm. "It has its weaknesses, but with these kinds of enemies, it works pretty well."

I nod, appreciatively. It isn't everyone who can admit that their own skills have weak points or need improvement. Personally it took me much, much too long to get to that point. Guess she's more mature than I am that way. "The falling part was pretty scary. Even though I knew it was just genjutsu."

Her eyes soften. "Almost everyone is afraid of the feel of falling."

"I am, that's for sure." I chuckle, sucking down a long drag. "I hate it." Give me solid ground or trees, please.

Kurenai looks bemused. "Well," she says, straightening and smoothing her outfit back into place, "We should get back to patrol."

"Right," I agree, getting to my feet. "But first..."

"Hmm?" She tilts her head to one side just so, listening.

I pause, choosing my words. Tread carefully, Asuma. She just got into friendly mode again... "About earlier. When you took off like that."

"Yes."

"I don't like that," I tell her. "Let's stick together when we can."

"Fair enough," she agrees, with a good-natured nod. "There are things that I don't like, too."

"Huh?" I grunt, hard-pressed to think of anything I did that was objectionable.

Kurenai puts one manicured hand on her hip, as though preparing to speak candidly. Her voice is mild and civil, but she cuts right to the point. "I don't need you to protect me."

"That's what partners do," I object. That's what I do. That's my whole gig, come on now.

"Okay, then," she agreed. "So if you were with Kakashi, say, would you tell him to get behind you? Would you tell him to stay in the back while you handled the messy part?"

"I didn't say that," I pointed out.

"Not out loud," she frowns. Her eyes express somber disapproval. "But you certainly acted like it."

What, can she hear my thoughts, too? "No," I admit, in answer to her question. "I guess not." Then again, there are a lot of things I wouldn't say to Kakashi, you know? Any way you look at it, people are different. And we react to them differently because of those differences.

Perhaps Kurenai picks up on my train of thought. "I'm not Kakashi," she corrects herself, with a sigh. "I don't have half of his experience or skill. But I can handle myself on a battlefield. If we're going to work together, we have to work together."

"Okay," I agree, a little unsure what I'm agreeing to. I scratch my head, confused. Somehow I have a sense of foreboding, like I could easily get myself into hot water here. And hey, someone dying on my watch is definitely on the list of things I don't need to live with.

Kurenai looks up at the moon for a moment and then back at me. "I guess," she begins, and then stops short. She seems irritated, but I can't guess at what. "Forget it. I don't know what I'm trying to say."

I wave a hand in an admissive gesture. "No, no. I think I understand what you mean." And even if I don't, I will bravely say so, because I was raised to be the cowed thing that is called a modern man. You know what I mean. That uncertainty where I stand. I'm not sure if I should open doors for ladies or feel guilty about the urge to do so. And I have a gut feeling this conversation falls somewhere along those lines.

"No. It's okay. Just don't worry about it." Her gaze drops and she bends to adjust the fastening on her sandals. Then conversation time is given its death knell as she announces, "We should go finish patrol."

And so we turn to go and make another sweep of the perimeter. The truth is I'd much rather have just sat under that ancient tree and watched the moon drift through those branches just a bit more. But work is work, work is our lives. Work will cost me my life someday. I guess it's those fleeting moments of rest or enjoyment I wish I could hold onto. A moment in which things are beautiful or perfect just the way they are, and there aren't any major problems or stresses to detract from it.

I've known for a long time that my life isn't my own. It belongs to the village. I borrowed it. When I die it will go back to the village. Yet sometimes, I wonder. I have always wondered, and pushed the limits of that bond, even trying to cut it at times when I was younger. When you get down to it, I bet my life is spent constantly trying to steal a fragment or two back of that lost time.

I remember everything very clearly, even now. It wasn't fun or happy or particularly memorable. Just interesting, just hopelessly normal. The moon's pale glow and the sweet smell of the trees that night, the sound of her voice and the howl and whisper of the wind. That was a moment I wish I could have stolen a bit more of.