taoreshi

[taoreshi]

continued from here @colorescaelistis

A QUIET HUM preceded the offering's acceptance. Both hands navigated with surgical precision to acquire the cup and its matching saucer. Fragrant, floral, and a mild sweetness. At least there was no absurd amount of sugar stirred into it. A stray tendril of steam swirled up; this advance tickled the underside of his nose, and elicited a soft, aggravated grunt. The tip of his tongue pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth. It would have been uncouth to jam his knuckle against his septum, after all.

The threat of sternutation was quick to ebb away, however, and the glaze over bright hazel eyes dissipated after a few owlish blinks. "Typically," Kento's lithe fingers wove around the ear of the teacup as he spoke, "Warm, and what I suspect is a decaffeinated drink put people to sleep instead of keeping them alert." One swift sip confirmed it. Mhhm. "Osmanthus." A question begged for the chance to be asked but rationale absconded with the notion. A hushed "But, it's lovely. Thank you." was uttered in its place.

"Well, at this hour, if I loaded you up on a coffee..." Gesturing to the empty workplace they shared and the glaring absence of any other forms of life, Arlen chuckled. "You might not ever get home." A knowing twinkle glimmered in his dark eyes. The twinkle blossomed into a knowing, mirthful smile. "But with a little luck, I'll be able to convince Mr. Workaholic to head out and get some shut eye. I'll take care of the mess there." Celebrations and sorcerers had a proclivity of getting out of hand, especially if a certain Satoru had any say in it. Party streamers, confetti, cake on the walls and furniture from the impromptu foodfight and the blood from a collision gone very wrong. Just another day at the office.

[taoreshi]

Continued from here @angelofamegakure

"I forget how backwater Ame is. Nose stuck in the mud from being run over by everyone else, you don't get the luxury of keeping tabs on everything else." There was not a word out of his mouth that was not structured like an insult, but his tone contradicted it some; it was sympathetic, or pitying, depending who you asked.

"One of Seven, from Kiri. Traveled here a lot as an escort when the Fourth Mizukage tried to acquire Ame." He referenced the late Mizukage with disdain enough that he might as well uttered a curse.

[taoreshi]

Zabuza's upper lip twitched in a snarl, skin prickling at all the delightful possibilities that this complete and utter stranger could possibly threaten. "Don't think you are getting anywhere with that Samaritan act." All too good to be true; made for a highly suspicious offer. He did, however, catch a little morsel of intrigue at the end, using it as an opportunity to put the pressure back into the stranger.

"Other? Awfully revealing for someone who doesn't really know who crashed their camp." Now, anyone with a bingo book might be familiar with his muh, but truth was not always the virtue it was played off to be. Intimidation went further in many cases. "I'll consider forgetting though; water. Now."

He is silent under the threat. He doesn't move as the man sits down he doesn't even react as if surprised. He had heard him from a long way off. Didn't know there were two of them. Also, judging by the state of them both they were in a brutal battle. He reunited the clothes the girl?... was wearing. However, the child looked much too young to be a special forces shinobi. Seeing as they are coming this way while wounded, they were either missing or rogue ninja. So he would help them if needed. He stokes the fire and stirs the pot that was simmering on it.

"I am not going to ask your name, where you're from, or what happened. The only thing I will ask is, can you eat? And do you need a place to stay?" It wouldn't be his first time putting up ninjas who were on the run. By the looks of it, they could use a place to get better. So, he will give the invite. "I have a house not far from here. We can head there in the morning. If you need a place to hide then my place is your best bet. I have no obligation to turn in other missing nin."

[taoreshi]

Kisame releases the breath he did not know he had been holding when he heard the faint, but present voice of his partner. Alive, albeit trembling like a leaf. The human body was such a delicate thing, Itachi's a delicacy upon a delicacy. And while there was an anatomical overlap between their bodies, the difference, especially now, was poignant. It did not help that the sacrificial bastard was worried about literally everyone but himself.

Typical.

Kisame shook his head. "She'll purge in time. Spoil her a little with a nice warm lap, and I'm sure she'll perk." A large hand pat the serrated scales of Samehada's body, causing them to ripple, albeit weakly. Even with a little treat of chakra, she hardly had an appetite. "Poor girl.. shame." And then, that same hand moved, seamless, pressing against Itachi's forehead, it practically being the only bit of skin within the layers of clothing. Too early to tell if the extra coat did anything. He would check again soon.

"You, on the other hand... Too cold for a human." A fire was no good in these conditions, even if the inverse bubble could keep it intact. Fires were bright and one of the easiest means to alert everything in the area to your location. Not the brightest choice so deep in enemy territory. ... But he knew Itachi needed sleep. Frequently disrupting him to assure his own doubts was counter productive.

Kisame then grinned a little as an idea struck him. Shifting from off his knee to propojg his back against the trunk of the tree they had nestled up against, the ningyo patted his lap. "Pillow for Samehada, pillow for you. Only fair." Kisame could keep an eye on him this way.. while Itachi and Samehada rested.

Hey. You awake?

ㅤHonestly? He was barely so. Which was rare; their dynamics revolved a lot more around his partner scolding him for never getting enough sleep, as it was. Alas, it had been a very unfortunate combo. Rain and humidity always made Itachi's body hurt at every joint and bone, like the poorly oiled, rusty gate of a haunted house. And properly generating body heat? Good luck with that, which explained why he currently was curled up over himself, huddled under the comforting weight of the black coat with the red clouds. Or... two coats, he realized with a slow blink of confusion, tiredly reopening his eyes at the sound of Kisame's voice so close to him.

«I am.»

ㅤAgain, barely, but the Uchiha was stubborn enough to push through the thick layer of fatigue, aching, mild fever, chakra depletion after activating his mangekyou to free them from the gods-damn pesky plant, the migraine that always resulted from it - all of it on top of each other, like a tiered cake where every layer was a different sort of physical ailment. Small wonder that Kisame looked so concerned, perhaps. Regardless, hearing the gentle but grumpy wiggling of Samehada beside them, Itachi's own frown was directed at the poor sentient sword instead. And how could he not? She was their mascot, it'd be the same as one of his crow summons getting poisoned. Still, he resisted the urge to bring a hand out of the coat(s) to pet her, mostly because he knew she wasn't fond of fire-natured chakra. Just her luck, to be partnered with an Uchiha. Then again... even if Itachi's chakra were to be the yummiest in the world, it wasn't like he'd make for much of a feast, given how inherently modest his chakra pool was. As naturally skinny as the user, really.

«Isn't there anything we can do for her?»

ㅤBeing a former ANBU captain, he had some decent knowledge about different kinds of poison and how to counter them - but this was hardly a human being they were speaking of. The last he wanted was to accidentally make it worse for Samehada. With a soft little sigh, Itachi turned back to face his companion, huddling even more under the improvised blankets; practically only his eyes [for once deep onyx instead of the eerie crimson; chakra reserves still on the mending] and the top of his head visible, voice slightly muffled by the dark fabric.

«And won't you get cold like this?»

[taoreshi]

continued from here @koi-nin

Nothing quite ruined a good day like finding your home broken into. Umi had been so focused on mentally sorting the trinkets he'd scavenged that he'd walked right inside to find someone else already there. Immediately his heart was in his throat, but there was no reaching for the knife at his waist, no lunge to deal with the intruder. Those instincts had never been hammered into him, and it took a second for the order to be heard through the panicked thoughts. The sack was gingerly set on the table by the door before he carefully made his way closer to the stranger, both empty hands open as he raised them to tie the makeshift sling. Once he was finished, he quickly backed away again, silently scanning the stranger for any other injuries... of which he had many, a few of which looked like they'd been reopened. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a second before returning to the table for a notepad and pencil. You're hurt. I can help, said the note that he showed to the stranger.

Every move was watched with prejudice, one wrong one to result in an ugly end for this unfortunate victim of home invasion. Slow movements did well to stay Zabuza's hand. And when the stranger did as instructed, he even gave him the grace to venture to his table and... write?

A hand moved silently to grip the handle of the kunai from the sheathe on his back. But he waited, something about the read on this stranger did not alert his intrinsic fight or flight. And when he read the note, he stared, blankly. incredulous.

"No shit." He grumbled, still brooding on the second bit. His near death experience had left him in a state he had only felt once before; and that had become the catalyst for his hellbent drive to assassinate the Fourth Mizukage. It was not a feeling that begat kindness nor safety.

What an idiot, to throw himself into the maw of a wild animal that could so easily snap his frail little neck. But as it stood, Zabuza was in no condition to not consider the offer. Although he did not take his eyes from off the sea whelp, an adolescent child slept in what was assumingly this stranger's bed, unmoving... Presently, Zabuza could hardly move his arms, one immobile, the other only marginally better off, put to use only by sheer force of will and without regard for consequences the future might bring.ore than enough to kill this unfortunate stranger if he misstepped even a little.

"Grab a needle, start a fire. If you've got alcohol, get it too." Zabuza instructed expectantly. Only one way to find out of this stranger was of any use to him.

[taoreshi]

Slowly, Tenzo nodded, briefly replaying the events that had led them there, to that campfire. A forest full of flowers holding corpses. It was hard to see the headband protectors, harder still the masks which had succumbed to age and neglect. The ones that had attacked them were falling apart and not a particular struggle, but it was difficult to brush aside that they were just animated bodies. One even had used a jutsu familiar to Konoha practices; truly, a disturbing thought.

Then there was the one that had gotten away.

Tenzo ladled the humble porridge into a wooden bowl and handed it to Kakashi. Warm, filling, and yes, edible this time. "I made sure not to let it become glue." Lightly, he smiled inclining his head some. "We should collect enough samples to pass on to the Inuzuka clan for tracking. And..." The more unpleasant part. "Take an inventory of the deceased. Return the headbands to relatives if able." A way to honor the dead after finding them in such disgrace.

Kaskashi sighed heavily beneath his ANBU mask. He was used to seeing his comrades' lives lost for less on the missions he always went on. That's not to say it wasn't painful to watch. Especially the way they'd found those poor souls.

"I know, Tenzo. I just thought we might have found someone alive, at least. Anyway, I understand." He stared thoughtfully at the bonfire in front of him. Even though he was good at what he did and had worked for years in the ANBU. Sometimes it felt like Kakashi didn't belong there. Maybe he cared too much.

"I hope your porridge is good this time. We need to get up early, and I don't want any side effects in the morning." A small chuckling sound came from beneath his mask. Kakashi decided not to dwell on the lost lives and focus on what he could do. Disguising it with a little humor might help distract himself.

[taoreshi]

// Head canon: Izuru Kira

Topic: Love life / interpersonal relationships / sexual orientation

Undoubtedly, Kira has a lonely disposition, resigned, but not unhappy. Despite his appearances, he is not a complete social loser, and, in fact, has a quiet, warm charm which makes him good company in all sorts of group settings. I personally view his loneliness to stem from his confused love life and relations with others. In the past he has dated on and off and had a decent amount of serious long term relationships, but almost always is the one to break it off, never quite feeling them to be 'right'. Yet, he maintains incredibly amicable relationships with his exes, and has a proclivity of being 'the guy' at the girl's sleepover. While there is speculation that he is in the closet, even Kira is unsure. He does, however, love company and happily plays bouncer for the girls' night out. He is incredibly reliable and an excellent secret keeper.

This said, he doesn't just socialize in female circles. Kira tends to be that +1 in a variety of groups of male friends who, aside from him, do not share mutual friends with. He has a non-standard charisma which has him easily fit into most social groups. Whatever the composition of individuals, he can be found perfectly content as an observer. That said, he is the first to intervene if tensions rise and does not hesitate to act.

Sexually speaking, he has had some one night stands and an occasional tender moment with a partner in a relationship, but has found that while he enjoys sex, he has a lower libido than most. And he may even just enjoy the intimate nature of sex moreso than the physical act. He does crave good companionship, and finds himself reasonably fulfilled as a quiet protector whether or not a relationship is involved. That all said, he has only ever dated women. He acknowledges his attraction to both sexes, but finds himself somewhat intimidated to open that can of worms with men.

[taoreshi]

For a shadow of a moment, Zabuza quietly observed that old blade like one might a lost companion. But nostalgia for old times could only carry so far. Familiarity did not mean he would be spared a culling if Samehada was put to the task. Still. It was nice to be remembered. He did not think it would; in fact, he thought the opposite, returning home where he had far more enemies than friends when his coup failed. It was almost sad. The closest thing he had to a friendly face was a sword that would eat him whole without remorse.

"Not by blood, anyway." He spoke gruffly, snatching up the hilt of his blade, using it to push his weary body up from the temptation of the common room couches. Indeed, he had no intention of giving the Akatsuki or Kisame to second guess his ability. That said, he knew he had to thread the needle with the information he offered. Enough to satisfy, but not jeopardize.

"I'll put it to you simply, ningyo. I didn't become the Akatsuki's bitch for a roof over my head. Steer clear of the kid, and I'll put up with you. Hurt him, and I will feed you to Samehada piece by piece." It was equal parts a threat and promise; the kind someone made when something more than just words was involved. His terms were clear. The line was drawn. And every bit that Kisame was to watch him, the same would be done in kind.

After all...

Zabuza did not try to overthrow the Fourth Mizukage for sport or for power. It was for a hatred that to some was noble, to others, foolish. Whatever their opinions were, he had long silenced the dissent of their voices in his mind. Kirigakure would not create any more monsters. No more pawns to be thrown away in someone else's gain. Haku was no different. Inheriting a kekkai genkai was to be born with a target on your back, the kid's bounties were a testament to that.

Zabuza took a fearless step to the sitting Kisame, glowering down at his glorified babysitter and potential executioner. "... And I'd like to get the assignment done. Now. That woman said you had the details."

Kisame's grinning did not fall as Zabuza spoke his name like a curse spat between his canined teeth. He didn't mind it. In fact, he had expected much worse.

Samehada twitched, reacting to the attention with a delighted purr. Her bandages fluttered faintly, like gills tasting the air, catching the scent of an old acquaintance. And the blood-soaked steel of her sibling sword. Kisame didn’t miss the way she responded.

"She remembers you," He said, giving the blade a casual pat. Samehada pulsed greedily beneath his palm, siphoning a little bit of chakra as a snack "She remembers you. And Kurouchi, too." Kurouchi being the nickname for Zabuza's sword, Kubikiribōchō. As christened by its old owner, Biwa Jūzō.

Kisame's eyes gleamed. "I spoil her a bit, yeah. Wouldn’t you? When you’ve got a sword that purrs when you kill a man with tasty chakra…" He chuckled. "Be rude not to treat her now and then." Plus, he treated her a lot better than that old parrotfish, traitor Suikazan Fuguki had. She was much happier--and fatter--with Kisame.

There was no menace in his voice. None he wore openly, at least. Just the comfortable ease of a man too confident to need threats. The kind of presence that said, I’ll gut you if I have to… but I’d rather swap stories first.

Kisame chuckled when Zabuza made that dry quip about "not my kid."

He leaned back slightly, elbows loose at his sides, posture relaxed. Though his eyes never left the other man. Like a shark circling just beneath the surface. Zabuza wasn’t a fool. He knew damn well why God and Angel had paired him with Hoshigaki Kisame of all people.

"You’ve changed," He said, stated as a matter of fact. "But not enough that I don’t still see it. That old Kiri mean streak is still there." He grinned again, teeth gleaming like polished knives. "Glad they paired us together. Was startin' to get bored with all the whispery ones." Sure, he liked Itachi. Worked well with him, even respected him. But this? This was going to be different. Louder. Bloodier. Fun.

"Don’t worry, Zabuza. I’m not here to gut you. Not 'less ya give me reason. And even then--" He gave a slow, theatrical shrug. "Only if Samehada asks nicely."

Kisame tilted his head, a grin still carved across his face like it was chiselled there. He drummed his fingers once on the hilt of Samehada, then let his hand rest there casually, like one might hold a leash. "Not your kid, huh?" He repeated, chewing on the words with idle curiosity. "Well then… what is he?"

The question was casual, but not careless. Kisame didn’t ask things he didn’t want answers to. And he didn’t believe in mysteries when blood, loyalty, or leverage were involved, especially in the Akatsuki.

"Just seems like an awful lotta trouble to go through for someone you don’t claim." He meant it more as an observation than a dig.

Joining a terrorist organization just for the free healthcare seemed... drastic.

[taoreshi]

A certain silence pervaded, interrupted only by the gentle slosh of water against the cavern walls, shore and dock beyond the little aclove. "Selfishness, I reckon." He slid the needle as he spoke, positioning it just so, almost painless. He stuck many over a lifetime, but where his graces in this execution flourished, his bedside manner was perhaps lacking. Tsubaki did not fraternize with the living all too often. Only the nearly dying and his buyers.

"Or, rather..." Shifting closer, straw-brim hat nearly touching his wounded guest's forehead, he lightly touched her chest, near the heart. He waited for Margaret to take a breath, tapping on her skin in emphasis. "You are still capable of that-- significant, because you breathe." As if this was any more illuminating, but evidently, to Tsubaki, this was a perfectly clear response.

He removed his hand, reaching up to the IV bag to unclasp the drip. Nothing more than a bit of saline, but it was a marvel what a body could do with just a bit of fluid. If she became painful, it served as an easy vessel to offer relief too. Now, to stitch her up. Having sufficiently made comfortable that his life was not in imminent danger, Tsubaki was far less timid. Lithe fingers buzzed with a precise cut of chakra to ease away the soiled bandages.

Placing the flat of his palm near the wound site, Tsubaki activated his Byakugan, only, rather than as a tool to ascertain a snapshot of his surroundings it was one of precise investigation. This woman clearly had an augmented healing factor that accelerated all but the most troublesome sites, the ones he had specifically mended with chakra infused threads. Normally, this sewing technique saw great success, but here... It was as though it was a hindrance. Disrupting, isolating. ... Entirely too fascinating.

"Neither would be preferred." She stated flatly. "But... I get you gotta do what you gotta. Just pick one. I don't care."

She cared a lot, actually. Getting jabbed by needles was her least favorite memory. So she looks away, preferring to keep her eyes on the rocky wall or ceiling. Anywhere else that wouldn't have her looking at the needle. The worst part was knowing it was coming even if she wasn't looking.

"...Why drag me here?" She asks, after a long silence. "Why go out of your way to heal me?"

She was used to being on her own for so long, to being chased around for the bounties on her head. It just didn't make any sense to her as to why a medic like this would go out of his way for her...

[taoreshi]

@kiigan

[taoreshi]

Obedience was earned only by fear or love, the former rooting Tsubaki where he stood, hardly daring to breathe as the stranger rifled through his scavenged goods. Being the last of the haul, the majority of what was found there were hardly the notable belongings that fetched top dollar. Tactical vests, food pills, maybe a salvageable weapon or two. With some patience and a steady hand, these low-grade materials could be given a new lease. But anyone with a good deductive eye could glean that this was the leftovers of a much larger haul.

Tsubaki did consider playing the idiot. He considered releasing a series debilitating pulses of chakra that could disorient and buy him time to properly flee... But the stranger, while explicit in his threat, had yet to show the sort of aggression where risk taking should be considered. Lifting a hand, slow, deliberate, he pointed towards the river. "... Some. But not all-- at the bank. The rest are stored." Cooperation, for now, seemed to be the path of least resistance, the safest bet too.

"Leaving now, before the tide. Come, if you wish. Search." Then, he gestured to the partially deflated burlap sack and it's littered contents. "I need this first, to bring back." But aside from his gesture, he did not move. Even if the tide was shifting, rushing to repack and haul the sack to the river where his punt boat waited was unwise.

So, he waited. Waited, and forced his thoughts to abandon the frightening fragments of that horror within flesh. How curiously it had writhed. Peak again, however, Tsubaki felt his sense of reason might abandon him entirely. He could not afford that here. Not now, at least.

Kakuzu wasn't chakra sensitive like some. The most he got from the other's action was a pulse, a brief pressure washing over him like a breeze. Whatever the result of that was…

The stranger was absolutely terrified of what he saw. 

Kakuzu didn't take any further steps forward. Did he recognize him? Was he about to run off, and potentially tell someone who he'd run into? The missing-nin would kill him if he had to, just to keep any additional whereabouts from getting out…

But there was no bolting, just a stiff scramble to get to his feet, stammering something about… his loss? 

Ah. He thought this was personal. There was no scoff or chuckle from Kakuzu as he drew nearer to the sack on the ground. …But he did issue a growled warning: “Stay right where you are, or I will kill you.”

He crouched and started pulling weapons out of the bag, one by one. He'd inspect what was in his hand, and set it aside on the blood stained earth. After a few minutes of digging without success, he growled softly to himself.

“Is this everything you've found, or did you have more?”

[taoreshi]

"Captain Byakuya look!" She presents the captain with some sweets she got from the human world. "These are for you!"

If the head of the Kuchiki house was a rash man, the sudden appearance of the Arrancar would have likely resulted poorly. Instead, his steely gaze lowered to the aforementioned sweets. They did not offend him... however. "And what might be the occasion, Ms. Odelschwank?" Polite, but expectant.

[taoreshi]

For every “X” my muse gets in the inbox, they’ll name one thing that makes them squeamish.

Muse isn’t squeamish at all? For every ask, they’ll try to gross out your muse.

[taoreshi]

Frame filling the doorway, Kisame hummed in quiet amusement, taking a moment to soak in the glamor of the mundane. Something about how pristine Itachi's method made even the triviality of laundry a sort of art. He expected nothing less.

"I'd sooner run the Akatsuki out of funds before you'd have to nurse a hangover. Might have to beat the old man off me if I did though." His kind did not metabolize alcohol in the same way a human did. It gave a whole new meaning to 'drinking like a fish.'

But then he grinned, entering Itachi's room to sit on his bed. "Unless you are looking for reasons to dote on me." He winked, highly amused.

@taoreshi/Kisame said: "Ho.. Word is that Konan underestimated just how wicked a drink the zealot can make. Just how much sleep did you get last night playing nurse?"

The hideout is small and word clearly travels fast.

ㅤOr... well. It wasn't like any of them had tried too hard to keep the celebration a secret, anyway. It didn't surprise him that his partner noticed the little ordeal and - it also did not surprise him that there's subtle care to be found in the otherwise blunt words. They worked in subtleties, the two of them, as much as they worked in vehemence. Always depending on the context. It put the semblance of a smile on Itachi's lips, currently entertained with something as mundane as folding his clothes; one shirt on top of the other, all of them perfectly pristine. All the glamor in this criminal life, and still they had to do their own laundry.

ㅤ«Are you asking with the intention of scolding me? Because I can easily lie,» was the cheeky reply given, mirth shimmering in the crimson of his irises. In reality, no, he did not get much sleep at all, but it was not to be blamed on poor Konan; still regretting all her life choices at this point, more likely than not. Rather, because that was pretty much the life of a chronic insomniac. «Or did you come to complain because I should have been playing nurse for you, instead?»

[taoreshi]

Kisame made no such move to get rid of 'that thing' which had partially splatted, partially crumbled after being tossed aside. A marvel, really, how one could make a creation of clay too wet and too dry. Then again, a deft hand and no thought of mixing could create any strange consistency.

"Hey, hey, now. That's my art!" He bellowed with a roar of laughter, evidently having nailed his impression of Deidara. "Not my fault you've never seen a noble sea cucumber! Or any fish, for that matter. All insects, birds, birds and insects from ya"

The music was too loud for him to hear Kisame the first time around, but the sudden weighty plop he felt on his lap startled him upright and he ripped the headphones off his head.

"Rgh!! What--!?" eyes quickly darted from the gross brown thing that fell from his lap in the commotion, to Kisame who was flashing his sharp teeth in what was the worst grin he'd ever seen.

Deidara made a disgusted face at him and wiped his hand across his pajama bottoms that were now stained and sort of wet from whatever the hell touched him.

"It's a pile of shit," he shot back. Deidara pulled his feet up on the couch just to keep as far away from the thing as he could, now that it was on the floor and picking up dust and dirt.

"There's no way I'm keeping that gross thing so get rid of it. Hmph."

[taoreshi]

It was with careful consideration that Shikamaru took in Sai's words, tossing them around in his head, scrutinizing their make, their implications. Now, officially, Shikamaru had no idea who Lord Danzō was outside of being a well-respected elder within Konoha. But as a Nara, steeped in the shadowwork and intelligence of the village, his father had entrusted him with far more. One had to know all pieces and their movement to understand the larger picture. Naturally, there was much talk of who would succeed the late Third Hokage... Lord Danzō's name had come up more than once. Loyalties were everything now, especially in times where power so abruptly shifted. "Tch... Could say that again. Even on the outside, it's hard not to get pulled along." Naruto's unyielding drive had that impact on people. Sakura's loyalty too. "Makes you itch to do something a bit.. more. Step outside your comfort zone. Become... something." And, for a brief and rare moment, Shikamaru chuckled a bit. "Let's hope that the impact will be the better for us, huh?"

The way Shikamaru says that sounds foreign in his ears but he doesn't try to refute him. He figures that would be foolish. Instead, he makes an attempt to smooth over the point of contention.

"That may be so, but I still serve a purpose, executing Lord Danzō's will," he says, explaining it in the simplest terms. "It might not be my singular purpose but it is still my highest and most important directive."

This felt strange. Even Sai can recognize how oddly liberating it feels to talk like this. It's almost terrifying, a sour and nauseating feeling sitting in his stomach at the prospect of sharing more; like looking over a cliff's edge, there was the tug of an instinctual tether at the core of his being, begging him not to take the leap, and the simultaneous pull of the open space with the hopeful self-reassurance that something will catch him and fly him over the horizon if only he could make the decision to jump.

"Though... I admit, working with Team Seven has had a significant impact on me," he confesses. It sounds like an afterthought but is clearly anything but.

[taoreshi]

// speaking of fighting styles..

Here is Tsubaki's! Puff up, intimidate and if threat remains, gtfo

Jkkk, I will get an actual fighting style but this is all I have managed on my lunch! Stay tuned!