~Counterpart-Multimuse~

"— so you'd think Anko would have learned her lesson by now," Genma chatters on, squinting at his wonky, lopsided crochet. He wraps the yarn around the hook, hesitates, then wraps it a second time before catching the top of the stitch. Or what would have been the top of the stitch, if his chain didn't roll and twist like one of their aformentioned friend's snakes. "But no, her and Raidou got into a mixup."

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

He stares at the coin in silence for a moment, considering his options. Right now, the only option he had was to put on the cat years and complete the look. The last part of the deal was to wear the costume for the rest of the shift, or until they got spotted by Tsunade. Both of them were banking on the idea that she wouldn’t need either of them today and it became a small joke.

Well, that small joke has hit a growth spurt and is about to grow even larger.

“…triple or nothing,” Kotetsu demands as he stands up straight again with the shadow of despair clouding his eyes.

"I have a guard shift this afternoon." He says instead. "I can't be out of uniform on top of the Hokage's office."

But... Just maybe... The itch to fuck with Kotetsu is right there.

You—!”

A stabbing finger points at Raidou directly, coin hidden in palm.

“You’d just get a smack on the wrist and told to go change, I could get reprimanded for making the entire country look like a joke!”

Kotetsu flips the coin with so much force it looks like it might go straight through the ceiling.

He’s not done bitching in Raidou’s direction about the risky game of coin toss Kotetsu had started.

“I gotta be the first line of defense for the village. I gotta meet with diplomats and politicians and tradesmen!”

Clap!

Skin strikes skin as his patience wears thin. He gives the results a cheeky preemptive peek from behind his other hand.

It’s obvious what the coin says with the way Kotetsu rolls his head along with his eyes. He spirals out of control like a one-winged airplane plummeting toward the ground. A chair at the lunch table breaks his fall yet he’s ungrateful.

He’s like a monkey trying to figure out technology as he rattles its wooden legs against the floor.

Anything to relieve the mounting tension in his jaw.

When he’s had enough, the chair becomes the balcony on which he hangs his solemn head and rests his forearms.

“…four outta five,” pleads the man who hasn’t won a single round.

That ought to be enough of a blackmail threat to stop Kotetsu from being a little shit to everyone for at least a day. Hopefully. Or for Raidou to pull out when they're in the mood to fuck with each other.

He stares at the table in front of him, lifeless.

Raidou claps his shoulder yet Kotetsu feels nothing.

Always so smooth. Always calm and collected where Kotetsu became a victim to the turbulence that were his emotions.

It’s nothing serious, this game. These bets. All made up and not real. Kotetsu didn’t have to wear the cat ears, tail and maid outfit, no. He wasn’t being forced.

But he definitely felt like he was being held hostage now.

“You know I don’t like the idea of owing people,” the words take a seat in the chair in front of him. His eyes catch Raidou in the corner and lead his head in the direction of the other.

“Maybe you should be the one tossing the coin.”

Kotetsu opens his palm to reveal the coin and holds out toward Raidou in offering.

I’ve gotten enough of my bad luck germs all over it, there’s no way he’d be able to win a fourth time in a row.

Redemption!

Salvation!

Kotetsu perks up instantly. His smile returns along with the life in his eyes.

“Tails.”

No hesitation. No second thought. It was the choice that Raidou made and that won him three times already.

So, if the coin is cursed, or somehow possibly rigged, there was no way Kotetsu would be able to lose by choosing tails.

Catches it with a cocky, dramatic flourish.

Slams it down on the top of his hand, and peaks at it without letting Kotetsu see.

His face falls.

Not because he's lost, but because he knows he's about to bust a rib laughing at the shitty turn of luck for Kotetsu here as he stares at the current Fire Daimyo's bust stamped on the top of the coin.

At this point, the bad luck is just pitiful. He's almost tempted a slight of hand to turn the thing over between his knuckles if he knew Kotetsu won't immediately catch the trick.

Even as Kotetsu moves to celibrate the dumbfounded look on Raidou's face, Raidou grimaces. "Alright, I'm changing the dare. Go walk backwards under a ladder. Pet a white cat. Throw salt over your shoulder. A moldevite ring. Something." He pulls his hand back to reveal the head-up facing coin.

He pushes himself up from the back of his chair and starts doing a little victory dance. The look on Raidou’s face says it all: the young shinobi’s plan had worked. Depriving Raidou of the magical choice of tails had gone in his favor and he was scott-free from punishment!

“Too late to change the dare now, pal! I’m already—“

Fucked.

Completely screwed.

Anything could be substituted at the end of that sentence so long as it was synonymous to the horrified look of despair Kotetsu now wore on his face.

His mouth arches in a perfectly downturned U as he gawks at the heads laying up on the coin.

Heads.

He cups his hands around it and shakes it like a maraca. Still heads.

“Okay, I call tails this time.” He said, flipping it for a seventh time.

It is not, in fact, heads. The symbol for Fire stares up at them.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

He stares at the coin in silence for a moment, considering his options. Right now, the only option he had was to put on the cat years and complete the look. The last part of the deal was to wear the costume for the rest of the shift, or until they got spotted by Tsunade. Both of them were banking on the idea that she wouldn’t need either of them today and it became a small joke.

Well, that small joke has hit a growth spurt and is about to grow even larger.

“…triple or nothing,” Kotetsu demands as he stands up straight again with the shadow of despair clouding his eyes.

"I have a guard shift this afternoon." He says instead. "I can't be out of uniform on top of the Hokage's office."

But... Just maybe... The itch to fuck with Kotetsu is right there.

You—!”

A stabbing finger points at Raidou directly, coin hidden in palm.

“You’d just get a smack on the wrist and told to go change, I could get reprimanded for making the entire country look like a joke!”

Kotetsu flips the coin with so much force it looks like it might go straight through the ceiling.

He’s not done bitching in Raidou’s direction about the risky game of coin toss Kotetsu had started.

“I gotta be the first line of defense for the village. I gotta meet with diplomats and politicians and tradesmen!”

Clap!

Skin strikes skin as his patience wears thin. He gives the results a cheeky preemptive peek from behind his other hand.

It’s obvious what the coin says with the way Kotetsu rolls his head along with his eyes. He spirals out of control like a one-winged airplane plummeting toward the ground. A chair at the lunch table breaks his fall yet he’s ungrateful.

He’s like a monkey trying to figure out technology as he rattles its wooden legs against the floor.

Anything to relieve the mounting tension in his jaw.

When he’s had enough, the chair becomes the balcony on which he hangs his solemn head and rests his forearms.

“…four outta five,” pleads the man who hasn’t won a single round.

That ought to be enough of a blackmail threat to stop Kotetsu from being a little shit to everyone for at least a day. Hopefully. Or for Raidou to pull out when they're in the mood to fuck with each other.

He stares at the table in front of him, lifeless.

Raidou claps his shoulder yet Kotetsu feels nothing.

Always so smooth. Always calm and collected where Kotetsu became a victim to the turbulence that were his emotions.

It’s nothing serious, this game. These bets. All made up and not real. Kotetsu didn’t have to wear the cat ears, tail and maid outfit, no. He wasn’t being forced.

But he definitely felt like he was being held hostage now.

“You know I don’t like the idea of owing people,” the words take a seat in the chair in front of him. His eyes catch Raidou in the corner and lead his head in the direction of the other.

“Maybe you should be the one tossing the coin.”

Kotetsu opens his palm to reveal the coin and holds out toward Raidou in offering.

I’ve gotten enough of my bad luck germs all over it, there’s no way he’d be able to win a fourth time in a row.

Redemption!

Salvation!

Kotetsu perks up instantly. His smile returns along with the life in his eyes.

“Tails.”

No hesitation. No second thought. It was the choice that Raidou made and that won him three times already.

So, if the coin is cursed, or somehow possibly rigged, there was no way Kotetsu would be able to lose by choosing tails.

Catches it with a cocky, dramatic flourish.

Slams it down on the top of his hand, and peaks at it without letting Kotetsu see.

His face falls.

Not because he's lost, but because he knows he's about to bust a rib laughing at the shitty turn of luck for Kotetsu here as he stares at the current Fire Daimyo's bust stamped on the top of the coin.

At this point, the bad luck is just pitiful. He's almost tempted a slight of hand to turn the thing over between his knuckles if he knew Kotetsu won't immediately catch the trick.

Even as Kotetsu moves to celibrate the dumbfounded look on Raidou's face, Raidou grimaces. "Alright, I'm changing the dare. Go walk backwards under a ladder. Pet a white cat. Throw salt over your shoulder. A moldevite ring. Something." He pulls his hand back to reveal the head-up facing coin.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

He stares at the coin in silence for a moment, considering his options. Right now, the only option he had was to put on the cat years and complete the look. The last part of the deal was to wear the costume for the rest of the shift, or until they got spotted by Tsunade. Both of them were banking on the idea that she wouldn’t need either of them today and it became a small joke.

Well, that small joke has hit a growth spurt and is about to grow even larger.

“…triple or nothing,” Kotetsu demands as he stands up straight again with the shadow of despair clouding his eyes.

"I have a guard shift this afternoon." He says instead. "I can't be out of uniform on top of the Hokage's office."

But... Just maybe... The itch to fuck with Kotetsu is right there.

You—!”

A stabbing finger points at Raidou directly, coin hidden in palm.

“You’d just get a smack on the wrist and told to go change, I could get reprimanded for making the entire country look like a joke!”

Kotetsu flips the coin with so much force it looks like it might go straight through the ceiling.

He’s not done bitching in Raidou’s direction about the risky game of coin toss Kotetsu had started.

“I gotta be the first line of defense for the village. I gotta meet with diplomats and politicians and tradesmen!”

Clap!

Skin strikes skin as his patience wears thin. He gives the results a cheeky preemptive peek from behind his other hand.

It’s obvious what the coin says with the way Kotetsu rolls his head along with his eyes. He spirals out of control like a one-winged airplane plummeting toward the ground. A chair at the lunch table breaks his fall yet he’s ungrateful.

He’s like a monkey trying to figure out technology as he rattles its wooden legs against the floor.

Anything to relieve the mounting tension in his jaw.

When he’s had enough, the chair becomes the balcony on which he hangs his solemn head and rests his forearms.

“…four outta five,” pleads the man who hasn’t won a single round.

That ought to be enough of a blackmail threat to stop Kotetsu from being a little shit to everyone for at least a day. Hopefully. Or for Raidou to pull out when they're in the mood to fuck with each other.

He stares at the table in front of him, lifeless.

Raidou claps his shoulder yet Kotetsu feels nothing.

Always so smooth. Always calm and collected where Kotetsu became a victim to the turbulence that were his emotions.

It’s nothing serious, this game. These bets. All made up and not real. Kotetsu didn’t have to wear the cat ears, tail and maid outfit, no. He wasn’t being forced.

But he definitely felt like he was being held hostage now.

“You know I don’t like the idea of owing people,” the words take a seat in the chair in front of him. His eyes catch Raidou in the corner and lead his head in the direction of the other.

“Maybe you should be the one tossing the coin.”

Kotetsu opens his palm to reveal the coin and holds out toward Raidou in offering.

I’ve gotten enough of my bad luck germs all over it, there’s no way he’d be able to win a fourth time in a row.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

He stares at the coin in silence for a moment, considering his options. Right now, the only option he had was to put on the cat years and complete the look. The last part of the deal was to wear the costume for the rest of the shift, or until they got spotted by Tsunade. Both of them were banking on the idea that she wouldn’t need either of them today and it became a small joke.

Well, that small joke has hit a growth spurt and is about to grow even larger.

“…triple or nothing,” Kotetsu demands as he stands up straight again with the shadow of despair clouding his eyes.

"I have a guard shift this afternoon." He says instead. "I can't be out of uniform on top of the Hokage's office."

But... Just maybe... The itch to fuck with Kotetsu is right there.

You—!”

A stabbing finger points at Raidou directly, coin hidden in palm.

“You’d just get a smack on the wrist and told to go change, I could get reprimanded for making the entire country look like a joke!”

Kotetsu flips the coin with so much force it looks like it might go straight through the ceiling.

He’s not done bitching in Raidou’s direction about the risky game of coin toss Kotetsu had started.

“I gotta be the first line of defense for the village. I gotta meet with diplomats and politicians and tradesmen!”

Clap!

Skin strikes skin as his patience wears thin. He gives the results a cheeky preemptive peek from behind his other hand.

It’s obvious what the coin says with the way Kotetsu rolls his head along with his eyes. He spirals out of control like a one-winged airplane plummeting toward the ground. A chair at the lunch table breaks his fall yet he’s ungrateful.

He’s like a monkey trying to figure out technology as he rattles its wooden legs against the floor.

Anything to relieve the mounting tension in his jaw.

When he’s had enough, the chair becomes the balcony on which he hangs his solemn head and rests his forearms.

“…four outta five,” pleads the man who hasn’t won a single round.

That ought to be enough of a blackmail threat to stop Kotetsu from being a little shit to everyone for at least a day. Hopefully. Or for Raidou to pull out when they're in the mood to fuck with each other.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

He stares at the coin in silence for a moment, considering his options. Right now, the only option he had was to put on the cat years and complete the look. The last part of the deal was to wear the costume for the rest of the shift, or until they got spotted by Tsunade. Both of them were banking on the idea that she wouldn’t need either of them today and it became a small joke.

Well, that small joke has hit a growth spurt and is about to grow even larger.

“…triple or nothing,” Kotetsu demands as he stands up straight again with the shadow of despair clouding his eyes.

"I have a guard shift this afternoon." He says instead. "I can't be out of uniform on top of the Hokage's office."

But... Just maybe... The itch to fuck with Kotetsu is right there.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“500 ryo is chump change, are you crazy?! And it’s not even Halloween, no way in HELL am I putting whiskers on my face too!”

The younger shinobi threatens to turn a darker shade of pink as he thrusts his fist out at Raidou in threat.

“So just call it already,

Heads or Tails?”

This is why you don't gamble, Namiashi.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

Kotetsu fixes Raidou with a smirk before snatching it out of the air, slapping it on the back of his hand, then shoving the results out into the middle distance between the two of them.

“Don’t get upset if you lost! You know the rules.”

Raidou would be the winner this time. The coin came up tails and witnessing his loss, Kotetsu’s smug smile comes to an end.

There is no tantrum. Or argument. Or best two out of three. Kotetsu huffs, palms the coin, and begins lacing his punishment through the belt loops of his pants.

He hisses another embarrassed sigh as he gives his hips a wiggle to experiment with the added weight of the black cat tail now hanging off of his backside.

“Okay,”

He holds the coin out again and glares into the pit of Raidou’s soul.

“Alright!”

Some bet needs to be settled. He’s itching to win and can’t afford to lose. The coin he pulls from his pocket is evidence of that.

“Call it;

@designatedadult | @counterpart-multimuse

The chunin says something but it’s of no use trying to translate it- he says it under his breath in a slurred mumble, he might as well have been trying to put a hex on Raidou.

“S’nothin’ butta bunch’a glasses-wearin’ bitches,” he pulls his mouth out of the crook in his elbow just long enough to spit the statement. When he gains control of his motor skills again and looks up to see who it is that’s talking to him, his cheeks take up all the space for his eyes from how hard he’s smiling.

“Raidooouuu,” his contained howling has him tilting backward like a wolf to the moon,

“My maaaaaannnn!

Whassup buddy? Gotta drink?

Play’sum cards?

Si’ddown’n I’ll deal you in.”

"Maybe, if you can manage to produce a deck of cards, because I'm fresh out." He remarks dryly, giving the chunin a once over for said deck out of sheer curiosity in case he'd missed something. Two and change hours from sunnup and he's still drunk as a skunk in August.

He’s looking. He’s looking real hard. He’s looking down at the ground all around him, looking in the crate only to be mildly perturbed by the sight of cantalopes, and then to be further distracted with his inability to put the wooden lid back on the box properly.

It’s only then that he takes a proper look at his surroundings does he forget all about playing a hand of poker and get seriously concerned about where he was at;

“Oh shit,” he slurs as his head swings wide to look back at Raidou. His eyes take another moment to catch up and make proper eye contact,

“Bro, we’re outside.

Fuck we doin’ out here for?

What the hell?

Where’re we…?”

And for his next trick, Kotetsu performs a miracle almost as glamorous as Jesus walking on water by pushing himself up onto his feet with the help of the wooden crate.

He staggers around and ends up laying lopsided against an oversized burlap sack of potatoes.

“Oh shit—

Why we outside?

What we doin’?

Weren’t we…

Did we get our food? Where’s my nachos?

Fuck dude, think I might’a passed out for a minute there…

Where’s Aoba? What time is it…?”

Consciousness is slowly steeping in as this chunin holds his head in his hands and shuts his eyes to the rapidly spinning world around him.

... he might let out a sympathetic little snicker, though, at the way Kotetsu wobbles precariously on his own two legs. He's usually got decent balance, enough that Raidou at least trusts he knows how to duck instead of eating shit during a spar.

Usually.

He steadies Kotetsu with a hand on his shoulder, the smell of alcohol not quite overpowering the smell of bile. He could definitely take a guess what happened to Kotetsu's nacho's, anyways.

"You're on 4th Street, behind the daymarket." Raidou adjusts his steading hand more towards Kotetsu's back to keep him from toppling back into the empty crates behind him, and also to keep himself out of the splash zone in case Kotetsu's stomach decides to back up that threat.

He wails much like the shit-faced ghost he could’ve turned into during the night had Raidou not stumbled upon him.

“‘Ssumo…” the name summons the spirit of love into his heart, then the demon of depression quickly comes to snuff it out.

Kotetsu’s glossed over eyes stare unfocused like a solider who had seen too much on the battlefield.

“No…

He’s’a’mission,” the chunin slurs as his chin falls to his chest in embarrassed defeat.

Izumo was the whole reason he’s gone and drank himself stupid again. You’d think the man went and died on his lover but no, it was the pain of missing him for too long and the depression of coming home to an empty bed night after night that encouraged him to drink himself off a proverbial cliff.

“Miss him…

Miss him so much, man.

I don’t feel like a person when he ain’t around.

S’like he takes half my heart with him when he goes… won’t be back f’nother week.

He pats Kotetsu on the the back, sympathetic, and tugs an arm over his shoulder.

"Okay. New plan, then, since I can't dump you off to be his problem." He says far too cheerfully for this hour of the morning, "You're gonna come sit with me and sleep this off for a day. Think you can walk, or am I adding you to my ruined work out as weight training?"

Team Six's office has a good couch for napping on and it's own bathroom and microwave. If Kotetsu's been even more stupid than it looks like, he can have the honor of becoming the first non-ANBU to grace the Stupid List in the infirmary. Toshirou-sensei can have the absolute delight of having a patient that actually listens and fears him.

@designatedadult | @counterpart-multimuse

The chunin says something but it’s of no use trying to translate it- he says it under his breath in a slurred mumble, he might as well have been trying to put a hex on Raidou.

“S’nothin’ butta bunch’a glasses-wearin’ bitches,” he pulls his mouth out of the crook in his elbow just long enough to spit the statement. When he gains control of his motor skills again and looks up to see who it is that’s talking to him, his cheeks take up all the space for his eyes from how hard he’s smiling.

“Raidooouuu,” his contained howling has him tilting backward like a wolf to the moon,

“My maaaaaannnn!

Whassup buddy? Gotta drink?

Play’sum cards?

Si’ddown’n I’ll deal you in.”

"Maybe, if you can manage to produce a deck of cards, because I'm fresh out." He remarks dryly, giving the chunin a once over for said deck out of sheer curiosity in case he'd missed something. Two and change hours from sunnup and he's still drunk as a skunk in August.

He’s looking. He’s looking real hard. He’s looking down at the ground all around him, looking in the crate only to be mildly perturbed by the sight of cantalopes, and then to be further distracted with his inability to put the wooden lid back on the box properly.

It’s only then that he takes a proper look at his surroundings does he forget all about playing a hand of poker and get seriously concerned about where he was at;

“Oh shit,” he slurs as his head swings wide to look back at Raidou. His eyes take another moment to catch up and make proper eye contact,

“Bro, we’re outside.

Fuck we doin’ out here for?

What the hell?

Where’re we…?”

And for his next trick, Kotetsu performs a miracle almost as glamorous as Jesus walking on water by pushing himself up onto his feet with the help of the wooden crate.

He staggers around and ends up laying lopsided against an oversized burlap sack of potatoes.

“Oh shit—

Why we outside?

What we doin’?

Weren’t we…

Did we get our food? Where’s my nachos?

Fuck dude, think I might’a passed out for a minute there…

Where’s Aoba? What time is it…?”

Consciousness is slowly steeping in as this chunin holds his head in his hands and shuts his eyes to the rapidly spinning world around him.

... he might let out a sympathetic little snicker, though, at the way Kotetsu wobbles precariously on his own two legs. He's usually got decent balance, enough that Raidou at least trusts he knows how to duck instead of eating shit during a spar.

Usually.

He steadies Kotetsu with a hand on his shoulder, the smell of alcohol not quite overpowering the smell of bile. He could definitely take a guess what happened to Kotetsu's nacho's, anyways.

"You're on 4th Street, behind the daymarket." Raidou adjusts his steading hand more towards Kotetsu's back to keep him from toppling back into the empty crates behind him, and also to keep himself out of the splash zone in case Kotetsu's stomach decides to back up that threat.

@designatedadult | @counterpart-multimuse

The chunin says something but it’s of no use trying to translate it- he says it under his breath in a slurred mumble, he might as well have been trying to put a hex on Raidou.

“S’nothin’ butta bunch’a glasses-wearin’ bitches,” he pulls his mouth out of the crook in his elbow just long enough to spit the statement. When he gains control of his motor skills again and looks up to see who it is that’s talking to him, his cheeks take up all the space for his eyes from how hard he’s smiling.

“Raidooouuu,” his contained howling has him tilting backward like a wolf to the moon,

“My maaaaaannnn!

Whassup buddy? Gotta drink?

Play’sum cards?

Si’ddown’n I’ll deal you in.”

"Maybe, if you can manage to produce a deck of cards, because I'm fresh out." He remarks dryly, giving the chunin a once over for said deck out of sheer curiosity in case he'd missed something. Two and change hours from sunnup and he's still drunk as a skunk in August.

He raises his head, bangs escaping his bandana plastered to his forehead. He's sweaty and sooty and covered in stray dirt, but mostly alright. Alive, thanks to Dai. Genma can think about it later.

We almost died today.

Not for the first time. It won't be the last. But Genma's still not over the way his insides twist at the thought.

"But they could want us. We saw them. They know we know they're here. If they have even a passing whim to see our bodies right next to your father's, we'd be giving it to them on a silver platter. All they'd have to do is wait for us to walk right back into their arms." He raises his head, knowing it's not what Gai wants to hear. It's not what Genma wants to say. But he refuses to lose either of his teammates today.

The echo strikes cold in his chest, and tears well up again. How would he know? They haven’t even seen him, they didn’t even watch anything happen; he could be there fighting still, or he could be crumpled on the floor, and whatever it is, he’s alone out there, and the thought is crushing his windpipe.

“I’m going back.” His voice cracks with the force of emotion as he wobbles to his feet. “I abandoned him, and he’s all alone.”

There’s probably still time before dawn arrives for him to retrace his steps and … he’s fast, lightning fast, with unmatchable endurance. They won’t be able to catch up to him, no, he’ll make sure of it.

And Genma is not carrying back two bodies. Genma is not carrying back Gai, and he is not going to let Ebisu help when the other's already exhausted. "Please. Just wait a bit." He says, a lot more tired, and a lot more softly. "Just give the sun time to go down, Gai."

And maybe, just maybe, he'd rather Gai find someone already still and quiet. Maybe, selfishly, Genma would rather Dai be gone and beyond help, so he doesn't have to see the look on Gai's face if they get there and his father is still alive and Genma's a medic so he'd have to try, and he'd have to see any of Gai's hope die a bloody, brutal death when Genma fails.

Maybe Genma would rather Gai be angry at him now, than have the blood of his teammate's father on his hand when Genma fails. Than have Gai hate him for an impossible task.

If Dai is alive, if, and they get back in an hour, maybe Genma could do something. If Dai is alive in an hour, maybe he can be moved, and a better medic can help.