A/N: The long (not really) awaited sequel of Crimson Thread! The Downfall!
So how about the cover? Cool, eh? Nah. XD
“Get out!”
Residents from all around gasped as a red-haired young lady fell, face-first on the dirt path and outside the local dango shop. She was a kunoichi for sure, judging from the Konohagakure hitai-ate supposedly on her head and instead attached to one of the fingerless, full-length black glove of her arms … also covered by traditional wrist-to-knuckle-length white gloves.
A man soon followed after, except, he was quite different with his calm, authoritative demeanour and his silver hair and mismatched eyes. No one could tear their gazes away from the scar over Satoru Osamu’s one white eye. Especially as he someone who would look like such a formidable criminal seemed to “happily” chew on his mitarashi dango.
Fuyu Kohana groaned and slowly stood up, wiping the dust from her short, flower-print, light periwinkle kimono and her long white jacket. Upon seeing the katana strapped to Kohana’s dark (almost black) purple obi, some of the residents gasped in awe. However, both Osamu and Kohana ignored them. No matter how much the latter enjoyed the attention. Many people were surprised at how two people could still be using traditional sword.
Both master and student never exactly understood this, seeing as quite a number of ninja they encountered knew how to wield swords. Not to mention it was not like samurai no longer existed.
Kohana’s kimono stopped to mid-thigh and her short, black leggings and longer than knee-length, open-toed boots compensated for the large amount of skin revealed. Her sleeveless white hoodie was long enough to almost be mistaken as a coat, seeing as it almost reached the back of her knees.
Two and a half years caused Kohana’s hair to grow much longer of course, from its mid-back length to barely brushing the transition of rear to thigh. She had gotten rid of all the baby fat from all of the rigorous training, leaving a more… ostentatious set of curves perfectly hidden by her outfit. She’d grown taller of course, but not by much. However little her bodily features progressed in growth, Kohana’s face had turned out as beautiful as most had expected. Though it was not much compared to the famous Tsunade of the Sannin, it was still quite a flamboyant display.
Osamu was still as distinctly handsome as he always was, his skin a little more tanned and his hair a little shorter than it was. He’d let go of the ponytail and let his silvery hair flow to his shoulders. The twenty-four year-old man also changed from his usual Jōnin uniform to a set of traditional clothing for males: a simple, very dark blue kimono and black shinobi pants taped at the ankles. Like Kohana, Osamu’s sword was strapped to his thin-string obi.
“You’re mean,” Kohana complained to her sensei as they began to walk forward. The reason why they had just been kicked out of the dango shop was because of a little master-student brawl. It wasn’t really a brawl if blades were included but it was a small fight nonetheless. However, the owner or manager seemed to think that the two were reckless enough to harm the other customers.
After all, a small fight over who would get the last pop of dango was unreasonable to civilians’ eyes.
Also seeing as Osamu was a stingy man and Kohana was often broke from all of her food and weapons shopping, there was no way Osamu would pay for another batch.
“You’re the one who started it…”
Kohana pulled at the average glove that covered her right hand, casting a side-glare at her sensei. “Yeah, well… you were the first one who was planning on unsheathing the blade. There’s a difference; you were asking for it.”
“That may be so, but you gave in and stopped being civil.”
“You prolonged it…”
“You could have stopped me…”
Double-takes were sent their way from behind but the two carried on with their little childish dispute.
Once they were in a safe, unpopulated place (outside the local town), Kohana unsheathed Yoshinori, also known as Osamu’s father’s sword, the very blade that never seemed to tire of cutting and still managed to maintain its flawless, seemingly untouched state. The very second Kohana applied everything that had been taught to her, also the very second she had triumphed over the Jōnin exams was when Osamu unwaveringly gave his beloved father’s sought-out (yet at the same time not at all) katana to his student.
Osamu spared his student a fleeting glance, throwing the useless stick out of the way.
“Normally, I would take you up on that offer… but we have to hurry.”
Disappointed, Kohana sheathed her sword back, refusing the urge to kick her tutor.
“What’s the rush?” She asked.
Without so much as a flicker of emotion, Osamu kept on walking.
“We’re returning to Konoha.”
“Stop that incessant humming…”
Katashi grinned, golden eyes glistening with adulation at the picture in his hand. “She’s so pretty isn’t she?”
Nao rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
With a small laugh, Katashi leaned back, letting himself hang from the tree with only his legs as he waved the picture in front of Nao’s irritated face. “What? Is Nao-chan actually jealous?”
Before Nao could snatch the picture and rip it to shreds, Katashi pulled it away from her, far away. “Ah, ah ah~ you are not going to destroy this one… it’s the best picture yet! Hana-chan’s at her cutest here. She’s so cute, really! Don’t you think so too? Well, of course you don’t since you want to kill her… but that doesn’t mean you automatically hate her, right? I mean, she is totally cute… actually, she’s quite beautiful… she’s mesmerizing, isn’t she? Man… I love her so, so much! It’s both refreshing and disgusting at the same time, don’t you think so?” Bringing the picture to his face, Katashi kissed it over and over again, at each time, the kissing sounds grew more and more exaggerated, annoying the hell out of Nao more and more. If it wasn’t for their difference in strength, she would have bashed Katashi’s head in long, long ago.
“I love you, Hana-chan! I love you, I love you, I love you!” Sighing, Katashi ran a hand through his short, blood-red hair as he let the picture flutter down to Nao’s lap. Unsurprisingly, the girl placed it on the ground and unsurprisingly ground her foot against the picture.
“I hope you know that I’m not going to let you do that. Kill her, I mean,” Katashi reminded her, with a completely blank face; as if kissing a picture over and over again was nothing anyone would even spare a glance at.
“I know you won’t… but it’s not like I’m going to let you have your way.”
Katashi laughed another one of his appalling laughs, almost falling off the tree as he did so.
“You’re so interesting!”
Nao smirked.
‘Let’s see who’s laughing in the end.’
A/N: Gonna leave you guys hanging with this one, just a little sneak peek.
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And don’t demand for the next chapter, I want to focus on school… no matter how much I don’t want to. I want more opportunities to feel smart during my freshman year. J
