The boy's eyes were soon to guide themselves back toward the quarry, the stamp of the beast's foot against the barren stone of the ground proving plenty enough to earn his attention. The columns of stone to lurch up from the earth seemed to be in result of the action, and as the creature hoist its leg a second time, the young shinobi plant a foot gently back, prepared to launch himself out of harm's way should the earth beneath his feet seek to shift.[break][break]
Sure enough, the ground trembled. Koma watched as the rock below tore open, revealing the army likely to have given the strange creature its name. Despite the threat the amass of horns present, his eyes showed calm, locked intently toward their target as it sought to take shelter within the leather and ivory of the herd. His posture was decidedly loose, easy, and the controlled nature of his breath proved deep and slow as he maintained his peace against the incoming storm.[break][break]
His gaze drift sideward as the ground tremored underfoot, the pound of feet in steady approach like thunder rolled through the rock. He was watching toward Aiko, weighing her reaction as he extend some patience in wait of an order. His eyes followed her forward as Anotsu's voice crackled against his ear, and as she made her intentions clear, he nod his head, fingers already reaching for four - five barrier seals housed on his person.[break][break]
"Done."[break][break]
Or as good as, anyway. The second Daichi put their outcropped stone in place, Koma was on top of it, slapping down his seals in quick succession upon its surface to grant an additional line of defense.[break][break]
With a knee anchored to the rock and the painted marks of his fuinjutsu in place, the shinobi hurried to connect his hands in ready, no tension finding the line of his brows as he focused his mind to molding his chakra. Energy drawn to flow through the markings of his seals, the barrier took shape within the stone itself - running as a protective sheet through its shape in an effort to preserve its upper half.[break][break]
The genin held his place, maintaining his focus to keep the structure of the barrier. With any luck, should the horde seek to break through the stone they'd be left with its upper portion, allowing them a safe platform with which to surf above the wave.
There wasn't a single alarm that wasn't going off in the boy's head. The anxiety to scorch its way red hot into his features elicit no response from the woman, and as his shoulders set tight, breath caught briefly in his lungs - he could only see red. The touch to his back saw his eyes closed again as he scrambled for focus, the hurried turn of mental gears the stark opposite of his decidedly still figure. The crease of his brow was all he was as much as he was willing to give in regard to what his thoughts - or rather, his feelings - might be.[break][break]
His ears felt hot, and with his heart steadily brought to hammer against his chest, the boy shook his head gently, the ruffle of his bangs shifting over the guarded pinch of his eyes. On her instruction his feet had already moved to follow along with her steps, but the rest of him was occupied, tied up in what mess his thoughts had tangled themselves in.[break][break]
"I can understand. You're worried."[break][break]
It was honestly impressive the way he managed his tone. The words sounded fully natural, though they still held some grit for the ache about his neck. The words flowed smooth from his lips, and despite his apparent turmoil, he spoke with soothing calm.[break][break]
"Your every action points to it."[break][break]
Was she really speaking to a child? These were not the words of some wide-eyed youth, and as he forced open the narrow of his eyes, his gaze failed to show anything of the wonder or brattish indignation that might normally spark in a young one's eyes. His gaze spoke of focus, the quiet determination not to be swept away by what bubble under his skin granting some steel to their watch as they linger toward the chunin guiding him.[break][break]
"But you don't have to be."[break][break]
Koma's brows loosed a fraction as some measure of tension smoothed from his unintended glare. The corners of his lips hint toward only the scarcest notion of a frown, and his shoulders sagged with relief. He hadn't given her much time to respond, and that was on purpose. It seemed necessary to him that the thoughts be aired.[break][break]
"I'm going with you because I'd like to."[break][break]
His eyes followed as Aiko found some reason to step forward. He could find only one reason for her lingering gaze, or the glance she'd settled brief toward his discolored skin. He prior choice in words, her apology and commendation, it all point toward a singular motivation - though Koma would show have little to offer in turn for this concern.[break][break]
The boy - the shinobi - didn't move. He wait patiently in his place, allowing the woman to draw near to him and lean down to better meet his eyes.[break][break]
And right away, he was going red. The scarlet hue climbed from his neck to burn its way up his features, his ears in particular an embarrassing shade more akin to a tomato than a young man. His expression held perfectly calm for his discipline. But he must have known. The heat in his face couldn't have been so subtle that it'd escape his notice.[break][break]
That a panicked light glint brief to life within his gaze was only further confirmation of his anxiety. Though he couldn't be so unmannered as to turn his eyes away, it was hard to watch. The comfort spelled across her face was too much.[break][break]
"Miss Hyuga -"[break][break]
The words didn't sound as even as he'd hoped. His voice wavered for the bundle of nerves he was quickly seeing himself reduced to, and as he caught that quiver, he found himself adamant just fast that he'd collect himself.[break][break]
"I'll join you."[break][break]
Koma bowed his head in concession, brows pinching over his eyes as he sought out his apprehension so he might strangle it from existence. The time he'd grant to collect himself proved to be something less than enough as he opened his eyes - conflict clear between the knit of his brows and the shadow of debate locked behind his stare. He had mind enough not to frown at least - but with his eyes open again...[break][break]
He couldn't break his staring - gaze pierced straight through the woman watching toward him. The embarrassment coloring his face wasn't going anywhere.
By now it was no surprise that the Hidden Mist sound out with complaint. Koma had the respect for the woman to offer her a glance as a curious light overtook his stare. His gaze turned to search over her posture as she groan her disagreement, head canting a bit before her command for his attention. Koma gave it without argument, disregarding her insult to her fellow shinobi to focus instead toward her advice.[break][break]
He was processing, though more than just her words. Her energy, her tone, and the fanged smile to bolster her assertion with confidence. He didn't move, studying her a moment longer before Seiichi spoke up to grant his own thoughts on the lecture, though that his eyes turned before he turned his head to fully face the man suggest he might merit some consideration to the woman's words.[break][break]
"Yes -"[break][break]
The genin spoke up gently on the mention of promise, still granting some focus to the altered flow of his breath. Slow, deep, and steady - as he'd been instructed a moment ago.[break][break]
"Thank you both."[break][break]
His gaze turned decidedly toward Makoto with his second offering of thanks, and after holding his position for only a moment to ensure the sentiment set with the woman, he was off.[break][break]
There was no effort to conceal the movement, sandals sounding in quick succession of gentle splashes as he dart for the treeline to take his exit. The boy wasn't keen to keep the pair waiting for his departure, and should he be left to cut through the brush, they would find his presence gone, lost to the shadows of the wood.
Daichi wasn't the only one seeking to make good use of their downtime. Like his fellow genin, Koma showed no interest in letting the time go to waste. Dressed in the traditional black and white of an Amegakure shinobi, the village's mark strapped about his arm, the canvas bag weighed light over his shoulders readily showed its contents. Scrolls. And no small number of them. At the very least, there must have been at least a dozen - their parchment curled and captured in bamboo cases to keep them safe during the group's travels.[break][break]
Like Daichi, Koma sought the light, and for the purpose of his own studies he moved to close in at the edges of the campfire's heat, a bland gaze cast toward his companion.[break][break]
"Mister Konishi."[break][break]
The respectful greeting sound quiet and plain from his lips, no judgement in the stare settled toward his momentary companion. It would have been rude not to announce his presence, though he'd likely have preferred a moment longer to study the subtlety of the young man's expression. The trepidation in the other's eyes brought questions to mind, and while the dull nature of his stare failed to express his curiosity, the subtle tilt of his head did something to convey his wonder.[break][break]
More like flesh and bone. Be himself. They were contradictions, but he'd do his best to find the middle ground. In his fellow shinobi's lapse of certainty, he knew well. He should offer his teammate support.[break][break]
"You look troubled."[break][break]
And what would a "normal" boy do? Invite himself. Rudely. Take a seat beside Daichi and give him no room to turn him away. It just wasn't him. So Koma simply stood. Waiting. Watching on with no threat to offer.[break][break]
"Maybe you'd like some company?"[break][break]
The curious lilt of his voice was mild, an attempt to stave off the even nature of his tone that seemed to unsettle others so. The blank of his eyes showed a faint spark of life for his effort. He had no reservations in showing his intentions to connect with his squadmate.
[attr="class","glassslipperkoma"]Daichi Konishi[break]if you're here because i accidentally tagged you - sorry xD
Only a breath ago, it was clear. 'Uzumaki Koma.' Respectful. Formal. It set a certain distance between them. But now, only in the next moment, things had geared to change. "Koma." The name resound in his ears with little effect, only a mild trace of curiosity to steal into his eyes as the Uchiha prefaced the statement to come.[break][break]
The words offered were not lost on him, thought apparent in his eyes as they searched toward those of the man opposite of him. He grasped onto them, both the words of the request and the gap of silence to follow. He read them like a puzzle, and with a mental list clear in his mind, began checking off the boxes one by one. It would seem that musing contemplation was all he had to offer the jonin, but as the suggestion that he might be unaware of himself met the air, he found it. The final check for his list.[break][break]
What Koma might have done if not interrupted by the waitress may have been hard to say. His gaze had yet to withdraw from Anotsu, and he had found little time with which to formulate a response. The curious, almost innocent nature of his eyes lift toward the woman to approach them, gaze immediately locking toward the ramen brought along with her.[break][break]
"Yes." His head bow itself in a thankful nod as he agreed alongside the Uchiha's gratitude. "Thank you."[break][break]
He wasn't retreating. That was for certain. Though some restraint held as a lock over his vision, there was a mild glimmer of anticipation there, and for his lapse in focus - [break][break]
Koma's stomach rumbled with a hungry roar.[break][break]
In an instant, the boy was beet red - the color flaring brightly at his ears before crawling up his neck to overtake the full of his expression in a shade to match the singular lock of Uzumaki crimson adorning his hair. For only a fraction of a second, he felt his throat cinch itself shut. The line of his lips drawn taut as he eased closed his eyes. An effort to hide what otherwise might reflect from them, surely. It was only unfortunate there was no easy way of hiding the color seeped into his features.[break][break]
"Excuse me," was the polite murmur to cover his blunder.
Koma was keeping both of them in his sights, and he was offering no room for an easy approach. Thankfully, it seemed the woman was content to let him scuttle off, and the hornless oni too halt his steps with the boy's retreat. Despite the distance he'd managed to claim, his guard remained in tact, even with the jovial tone of the woman just ahead of him.[break][break]
The cruel nature of her encouragement saw a glance from the boy, the impassive nature found in his relaxed features near the complete opposite of the amused smile to pull at the woman's lips. The jab, either to his age or apparent cowardice, found no purchase upon his ears. She was having fun, or as much as she could between an apathetic pebble and the craggy mountain of the Cloud shinobi, and while Koma wouldn't blame her for it - he seemed uninclined to participate.[break][break]
That he was an amateur was obvious. His shoulders had readily betrayed his escape, his steps failed to gain the full distance for what energy he expend, and though he plot his course with careful attention - his steps lacked the light touch of a more experienced shinobi, stones displaced along the riverbed where his sandals once anchored themselves. He had a long ways to go.[break][break]
The words that rang from Seiichi's lips filled the silence, and with his admonishment, Koma's eyes direct themselves toward the man, fixing upon him. Though some cautious itch kept a fraction of his focus toward the cackling Inuzuka, his attention toward Seiichi was rapt. The instruction to release his tension saw the boy rising to the full measure of his less than intimidating stature, the vague rigidity to cling to his shoulders forced to ease as he watched on.[break][break]
It seemed not a detail of the shinobi's movements would go undocumented. The Amegakure genin searched each one for meaning. The flowing draw of his hands, the measured swell of his chest as he breathed. Koma was taking notes, and before he was even instructed, he was moving to try and mimic the actions himself.[break][break]
Back straight. Shoulders loose. His hands set before him to ape the form of the man just across the water, and with slow, gentle movements, he guide them in toward himself - daring to close his eyes a moment as he guide a deep, slow breath down to the pit of his stomach, hands moved smoothly to aid in visualizing the effect of the excersize. His gaze was quick to crack itself open, watching intently from beneath the pale canopy of his lashes, and as Seiichi's words commit to memory - hands dropping as he bow himself forward in gratitude.[break][break]
"I will."[break][break]
His words resonate as a quiet promise, posture righting itself gently as he further watched the man. Though there was no smile to warm his features, his expression had brightened a fraction - some light of appreciation in his eyes.[break][break]
It wasn't insulting to hear. Anotsu seemed to recognize his cynicism for what it was, and the jaded child had neither argument nor shame to offer for having been called out. He simply nod his head as the man made note of the meaning behind his reply, a polite gesture of unspoken thanks for the consideration offered him.[break][break]
It only made sense that their trip to the restaurant would have some ulterior motive behind it. Koma had come to expect such mind games, and as the jonin made his intentions clear, he failed to cower under the pressure of being assessed in such a way.[break][break]
"Alright," he agreed easily, the tensing of his stomach subtle under the fabric of his clothes. "Thank you."[break][break]
The last thing he wanted was for his gut to sound out with a rumble, but with the clink of dishware, the warm atmosphere, and the scent of seared pork lingering on the air, it was proving to be a real threat. Relaxed as the rest of him might have been, it was a constant effort to hold his stomach tense, denying it the ability to gravel out in request. With his eyes dropping down to the menu, he was finding the script painted across the page doing little to aid him in his efforts. Reading off the ingredients was only making matters worse.[break][break]
As was that of the jonin across him, Koma's gaze was swift, flickering smoothly from one item to another in search of specific ingredients. It seemed to take him little time at all to hone in on what he'd been searching for - apparently a boy who well enough knew what he wanted.[break][break]
His gaze drift up as the man's voice called out again, lingering toward his own at the suggestion of 'acting'.[break][break]
"The wasabi shoyu... please."[break][break]
The thanks nearly came as an afterthought as he lowered his menu, gaze turning in consideration of the man across from him. He was still parsing his advice, weighing its potential meaning to make something productive of the words.[break][break]
"I know how to act," he assured. "But I get the feeling that that isn't what you're asking for."[break][break]
His gaze dulled a fraction, focus retreating into himself as he turned over his thoughts.[break][break]
"What would you like me to do?"[break][break]
He was willing to apply the advice, but the vague nature of the man's words left much open to interpretation.
The flicker of life in the Kirigakure's fingers earned the genin's attention with a sense of immediacy, though he scarcely had time to steal a glimpse of the sign before she struck like a bolt to appear as an ominous presence at his back. Koma failed to flinch in the woman's presence, scrutiny vague in his eyes as the mild rest of his lips hint toward a frown, disapproval adding some scarce trace of weight to the corners of his mouth.[break][break]
Unlike Seiichi, the genin was not content to have the strange woman positioned in his blind spot, and though he sense no malicious intent in the woman's presence, he saw no reason to humor such a bold request. Near as soon as she'd arrived, the boy disappeared with a splash - sandals kicking to the river rock to try and shoot him aside a ways, hoping to afford some distance between himself and the Hidden Mist jonin.[break][break]
He had an answer for her, likely as simple as the ones afforded Seiichi, but given the man's approach Koma opt to hold his tongue. What question slipped into his stare was slight, the hint of disagreement to threaten a furrow at his brows smoothed away as he followed the towering figure's steps with his eyes. The man had already expressed disapproval in some aspect of the reply given him, and Koma was not keen to let the bear-like man within arm's length of himself.[break][break]
The boy was on defense, taking measure of just how far the man's reach might extend if he exert himself. He wouldn't allow him in near enough to land an attack.[break][break]
Koma's foot edged back in preparation as Seiichi drew near. He was ready to flee, and with what welcome he had received seeming to disperse under the pressure of suspicion to permeate the air, he proved less than approving of the jonin simply stepping forward to stand himself before him.[break][break]
Before the man could move to offer a strike, Koma had dart off, steps skating at an angle along the riverbed to purchase some distance from the tower-like shinobi.[break][break]
"For him."[break][break]
The answer to Makoto's question finally came, the splash of his retreat settling to reveal his being crouched over the water. He looked ready to spring himself away at any moment, not yet electing to flee entirely from the scene. His eyes didn't leave Seiichi, gaze fixed toward him in an effort to gauge whether or not he might give chase. If he did, the smaller shinobi was sure to make a break for it.[break][break]
"I thought he might be a master of taijutsu. And I wished to learn something."[break][break]
Despite the foreboding weight of the tension in the air, Koma had lost none of his calm. Though he kept his distance, fear failed to flicker in his eyes, what focus they offered rendered distant by the aloof nature of his gaze.
There was no argument from Koma. With the radio in the chunin's care, his eyes were immediately for the unsteady wreck of a man, apathetic to the way his crumped form bowed over a puddle of bile. The shinobi stepped himself toward the man, standing there as an unblinking sentry as he regard him with faintly narrowed eyes. The boy had no quarrel with standing watch, and until reinforcements arrived, he fixed the dull of his stare intently toward the stranger - gaze narrowed in an unspoken dare.[break][break]
It seemed it was over near as quickly as it had began. The thieves were being gathered up and taken away, leaving Koma with -[break][break]
His thoughts were interrupted, the rattle of his chain stilled to silence a moment as the woman's praise caught his ear. The thought didn't strike him to continue with his task. Not straight away.[break][break]
The dark amber hue of the child's gaze turned even for Aiko's own, the bland line of his lips failing to give way to any form of expression. No light showed from his stare, though the fix of their watch assured his attention. She'd been heard, and the words were of enough merit to earn his focus.[break][break]
"No need to apologize, Miss Hyuga."[break][break]
His voice echoed vaguely hoarse from the trauma to his throat, the color still bright about his skin in promise of the bruise to come.[break][break]
A steady blink of his lashes and his gaze dropped right back to his chain, looping its length over itself to draw it neatly into an even coil. He offered nothing on the topic of her mussed hair, mind caught on other matters as he drew the ring of chain to settle its weight about his shoulder.[break][break]
The boy's eyes closed, a faint thread of tension pulling at the line of his brows for his practiced restraint.[break][break]
"Nothing severe."[break][break]
It seemed he was going to shrug off her praise altogether, the pale of his lashes fluttering open to fix her with a decided glance. He'd regard her properly when speaking.[break][break]
"I'll write up a report when I get home. Thanks for your help."[break][break]
His body bowed itself forward in humble gratitude, voice quiet against the murmur of the busy street nearby.
The tension caught between his brows eased, the defiant flame snuck into his stare snuffed out in an instant. Some brief worry found itself of his faintly furrowed brows, but as soon as it was there, it smoothed itself away, a familiar hollow emptying his stare. His gaze held itself passive toward his superior, offering no hint of resistance to the order posed to him.[break][break]
It was almost mechanical. The way he brought his eyes forward. The mannered bow of his head to the eatery's staff. Even as he low himself to set neatly atop a cushion, there was no show of enthusiasm, what chord of apprehension stole into his aura snapped to leave him as a mere spectre in terms of presence, and a small one at that. It was still a challenge to find a proper answer, though at this point, he'd given up hope against throwing himself to the wolves.[break][break]
"Because no one else will."[break][break]
The soft of his even tone failed to waver under the scrutiny of the jonin's gaze, the calm to have washed over the amber of his eyes lift to rest toward Anotsu's own. His perception was likely keen enough to catch the thread of fear to lurk behind the convincing tranquility of the boy's watch, though the restraint that bind his tongue failed to surface in any other aspect of his easy, upright posture. Everything about him was practiced. Overpolished, perhaps.[break][break]
Guiding the weight of his grocery bag from his shoulder, he reached to collect his own menu in the mild touch of his fingers. Koma made no move to drop his gaze, still in full attention of the man seated along with him.
And mind he didn't. Makoto's riot of laughter fell on all but deaf ears, only the vaguest sense of curiosity to reflect from the fiery color of his eyes as he spared a glance toward her outward display of humor. Koma simply stood there, making no further steps to advance as the water cut its way around the shapes of his ankles.[break][break]
His answer was silence, focus drifting itself back for the halted figure that folded the trunks of his arms across his chest as he pose the first of his questions to the boy. Despite the apparent discrepancy in physical might, the shinobi showed no sign of cowering, standing in quiet attention as he heard out the foreign ninja's request. At first, it seemed the first of his questions would go unanswered, as soon after his request for a name he saw an answer. First in action, then in word.[break][break]
"Koma."[break][break]
The boy had bowed himself forward in respectful greeting, showing no hesitation in finding the man's eyes once more as he right his posture. His introduction was simple and to the point, much as the plain tone that carried the name across the water.[break][break]
"I didn't want to give cause for alarm. I'm not here as an enemy."[break][break]
With the words offered, his gaze turn itself for Makoto, curious if she might find some joke in his straightforward reply. His posture seemed much in harmony with his words - no trace of fear or doubt in the tranquil nature of his stare. What little his gaze offered showed as harmless curiosity, some quiet thought spun slow in his mind as he took measure of how the pair received him. It was no long-winded explanation, but to the little shinobi, his reasoning was sound. His age seemed to play little part in his manner of speech, offering some clue to his rigid upbringing.[break][break]
The boy that stood himself in the murmur of the river thought himself more a small man than the child that he appeared to be.[break][break]
Attention fixed back toward the pillar of a man ahead of him, his head bowed itself forward in polite request.[break][break]
"I'd stay. If I have the choice. As I'd mentioned before..."[break][break]
His voice trailed off a bit as he pick up his chin.[break][break]
The line of his brows knit, Koma's lips bent toward a subtle frown, a pensive gaze turned guarded toward the woman to have swept in to his rescue. It was all the answer the young lady was going to get, though whether it was due to poor manners or the scarlet hue flared about his throat for the previous assault may be difficult to discern. In either case, it was a reply, and one of affirmation at that.[break][break]
His chain sound off with a noisy rattle as he dragged his prey in toward him, a couple of steps taken forward to better close the distance as the man flail like a terrified fish against his capture. He was truly giving it his all in trying to kick off the restraint, and as he managed the success of one foot, the chain was drawn tight to circle with a painful grip to the lone ankle left in its grasp. The fearful yelp to escape the man's lips was almost childish, hands fumbling over his clothes as he reached to secure his knife into his fingers. Koma however had drawn his weapon long ago, kunai grasped in the curl of his fist in full ready to follow through with the careless threat cast as a veil over his stare. Try as he might, he couldn't fully disguise his animosity, ears flushed red with irritation as his blood thrummed a rapid beat against their drums.[break][break]
Sparing a glance to ensure the woman's safety, his foot came to slam down on the man's wrist in the moment he managed hold of his knife, effectively splaying his fingers and sending the weapon to clatter to the ground. For a moment he paused, staring on, and in a moment of forgetfulness, heedless of the chunin's presence, he pressed. Harder. The line of his lips pressed grim as the pressure behind his heel built further and further, and as the man squeal out in agony, fearful of the very real chance of finding himself with a broken wrist, a voice called out - snapping Koma from the merciless act that may have otherwise been carried out to the full.[break][break]
Swallowing thickly, the shinobi turned his eyes toward the woman, searching her over a moment before dropping down to bind his captured criminal in the chain still caught about his leg. Looping its weight through a link in its chain, he hooked his fingers in through the bindings, hoisting the man scornfully to his feet as he sound out with a hiss. Perhaps the chain was a bit tighter than necessary.[break][break]
Koma lift his kunai to settle its grip between his teeth, fingers moving discreet to steal back his pouch and fasten it back to his belt as he drug the man along to the radio in question.[break][break]
With "Chatters" out of commission and emptying his stomach alongside the surface of the wall he'd been kicked into, the muscle was having second thoughts. Thankfully for him. When the chunin had drawn in to attack the mouthy of the trio he'd turned swiftly to try and catch her skull with the hammer of his left fist - but given her speed and the quick draw of her crossbow - he found himself to slow to actually bring his fist down to fully carry out the attack. So he stood there, sweat trailing down his brow and blood dripping from the stars and bolts adorning the meat of his right arm. Cautious, he uncurled his fist, offering his surrender as the boy retrieved the radio in question.[break][break]
The trio seemed well enough subdued for the moment, with the larger looking rather bitter over surrendering to a comparatively little girl.
A simple "No," was good enough for him.[break][break]
There wasn't another word from the genin as he followed along, moving in step at the jonin's heel as he made his rounds through the streets. The man was fixed with a studious gaze, each of his actions taken into careful account. Between it all, acts of charity, brief exchanges with the fragile, and practical help of offered muscle - Koma was withdrawn. Only once did he step forward to help with hoisting an elder's groceries, and even then, no sign of a smile. An impassive line seemed all he had to offer, each task treated as a matter of duty rather than kindness.[break][break]
Koma, too, failed to wilt under the downpour. Thoroughly drenched from the time spent wandering the streets, he hardly seemed to notice. His mind was toward what seemed to be their task, the grocery bag toted at his side of little concern in comparison to the direct request from his commanding officer. He was only vaguely distracted at the time of the question's being offered to him, gaze having wandered off to linger toward a little girl taking pause to stamp her feet in the muddy water of a gathered puddle.[break][break]
With a blink, his head turned, attention shone subtle in the passive red of his eyes as he regard the Uchiha.[break][break]
It was a trick question.[break][break]
The boy didn't answer. Not at first. He simply cast his eyes forward, tracing alongside the jonin's steps as he sort the question in his mind. Finding a satisfactory answer wasn't coming easily to him, and as the prolonged silence found itself filled with the roar of pouring rain, he found his gaze wandering back toward the man, searching his features for some hint as to the answer he might want to hear.[break][break]
Maybe it was an anxious gesture. The way he adjust the strap of his bag. How his fingers clenched at its canvas. He didn't even notice it, gradually wading further and further into his thoughts. The waters they were treading into felt dangerous, and it kept his jaw trapped shut.[break][break]
"I don't want any trouble," was the conclusion he came to.[break][break]
And there it was. An expression.[break][break]
His brows furrowed subtle over his eyes, the corners of his lips edging to a frown as his gaze narrowed in the faintest gesture of a surprisingly bold threat. The uncertainty that flickered behind his stare was scarce, but no less perceptible - as was the conviction that sparked behind his quiet challenge.
It was more than enough time. Even before the aggressive distraction of the team's chunin, Koma's fingers were moving in a flurry of signs, digits point and curled in practiced gesture to weave a signature shinobi technique. Perhaps he could have run away. The fingers that had coiled about his throat had withdrawn with the bolt embedding itself in the attacker's hand, but as the threat of his knife clattered to the ground, curses spat against the humid air, it somehow seemed beyond the ninja to retaliate. Instead he crumpled, curling fearfully beneath the man as he lift his hands to hide the terror spelled across his features. The work of his jutsu seemed set against bearing fruit, leaving the boy to cower in his place.[break][break]
Mortified as the young shinobi seemed to be, he earned no pity from the man set to be riddled in bolts and shuriken. The iron spades that root themselves in his flesh quivered with his movement, pain quelled by the rush of adrenaline set to course through his veins. Despite it, there was some exhaustion setting in, and the man found himself drawing a heavy breath as he lift his hand to support the bloodying mess of his offended arm. With his eyes locked intently for the Hyuga's own, he stomped his foot forward in defiance, heel aimed to crush the skull of his captured prey.[break][break]
It may have come as no surprise to a fellow shinobi. The sole of his boot crashed through the empty air to strike with a loud splash against the puddle where the boy's head reside only a moment ago. Koma had flickered off to safety - the illusion left behind in his place erupting in a cough of smoke to reveal the battered roll a weathered mat he'd opt to leave in his place.[break][break]
Now it was the thieves' turn to worry. With the muscle now lacking his good arm and not one but two shinobi to contend with, the bandits found themselves with some hesitation in deciding how best to proceed. The unharmed pair spared each other a glance, and before the mouthy of the two could grant some sardonic commentary in regard to their situation, the thief to lead the initial chase tore off in an effort to escape to the open road on the other side.[break][break]
Koma wasn't having it, and before the man could gain the distance his steps plead for, the rattle of chains chimed off against the dark, reaching out from the shadows to circle their weighted length about the ankles of the escaping bandit. With a yelp, he was falling to the ground, hands thrown out before him as his chin met the floor.[break][break]
"They're just kids," came the exasperated complaint of the accomplice to be left in the dust. The sudden appearance of the chain had made the genin's position all too apparent, and with his sights now set toward where the boy had holed himself away - crouched in the dark behind the cover of a stack of crates - he launched himself forward, seeking to take opportunity of Koma's distraction.[break][break]
The muscle, apparently, had been granted the honor of his meatshield, the more cunning of the three halting his steps just behind the respectable tower of his figure. While his compatriots were still keen to the idea of fight or flight, the injured man found himself at a loss with the young woman keeping her distance. Holding his ground, his hand lift to nurse the injuries to his arm, muscles coiling to see if he could garner any use out of his stricken hand.
