Genma had waited outside Mizuki's house for hours. With the patience of one of Konoha's great trees, with the intent of Konoha's great assassins, he'd waited outside, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette he'd taken from a young Jounin.

He normally didn't touch the things. Scent was too strong; even after he washed his clothes, he could smell it. Meant any highly trained mark might smell it, too, giving him away.

Today, it was nicotine or alcohol, and he wanted his wits and his hands steady.

Eventually, Mizuki's door opened.

Genma flicked his fingers. The butt went sailing in one direction, and another flick of his fingers sent a senbon sailing in the other. It sank into Mizuki's shoe, between his first and second toes.

Mizuki looked at it in surprise.

Genma slid away from the wall and sauntered forward, bandana keeping his hair back, loose clothes hiding muscle twitches and tension that might give away his next move. His senbon was in his mouth, his hands in his pockets.

"Can I help you?" Mizuki asked, setting down his pack and bending to pull the metal from his shoe. He yanked, hard, bare arms showing muscles straining before the weapon came free. He stood, offering it to Genma, annoyance on his face. "And you missed."

Genma's eyebrows rose fractionally. His head twitched, his tongue flicked, and he spat all at once. The senbon in his mouth sank into Mizuki's other boot, between the first and second toes.

Mizuki started at it, hand still outstretched, metal needle still hanging between his fingers. When he looked up, wariness had entered his eyes. "Okay, you *didn't* miss. Thanks for sparing my toes, then."

Genma would rather have his balls, but he didn't say that. He pulled a hand out of his pocket, taking the offered weapon gently. Then he slammed forward, elbow against Mizuki's neck, smashing the kid into the wall.

Idly, he danced a senbon between his fingers. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, deceptively mild.

Mizuki opened his mouth, breath wheezing through his nearly crushed throat. He tried to talk, but it came out broken, garbled, nothing more than hacking noises.

"Do you know *what* I am?" Genma asked again, voice terribly soft.

Mizuki's fingers scrabbled at Genma's arm, twisting and tearing cloth where his nails dug in.

Genma ignored it, leaning harder until Mizuki stopped struggling and focused on breathing. Then he let up, ever so slightly, point made.

He lifted his other hand, tapping Mizuki with the point of the senbon. "If you hurt Iruka again," Genma said causally, weapon drifting closer to Mizuki's eyes, "I'll kill you. Do you doubt me?"

Mizuki shook his head frantically, blue eyes nearly bugging.

"Huh," Genma said, surprised. "Not even knowing I'd go to court for it?"

Mizuki just stared at him.

Genma smiled. "No, I wouldn't go to court. I'd make it look like an accident." He leaned closer, lips next to Mizuki's ear, leaving his skin open to being bitten but trusting terror to hold the man's teeth. "It wouldn't be an accident, you know. It would be very, very painful. Torture by enemy troops, maybe. Oh, no," he said, half laughing as if he'd forgotten. "We're at peace. By missing ninja, then. Or maybe I'd lock you in a room, and set it on fire. I hear burning to death is a terrible way to go." He leaned. Mizuki choked.

"Or," he continued pleasantly, "if I find out you've tried to rape Iruka again, if I find out you even *looked* at him inappropriately, I don't care what kind of problems Iruka feels gives you the right to be a shit, I'll leave these pretty little things at home," he tapped Mizuki with his senbon once more, "and shove a gods-damned knife up your ass to let you bleed out. We clear?"

He felt Mizuki nod, but just leaned closer.

"Didn't catch that. Sorry?"

"Y-yes--" Mizuki managed. Impressive, really, since Genma had most of his weight on the man's neck.

Genma leaned away, bent, yanked his senbon from Mizuki's boot, and smiled lazily. "That's nice, then." He tucked the weapon into his pocket, pulling out a clean one and tossing it. He caught it with a snap of teeth and sauntered away, languid.

Behind him, he heard the cretin drop to his knees, choking and gasping for air that struggled to get past his windpipe.

He walked past a young boy staring at him, dango forgotten. "You made him pee himself," the boy said, mouth a nearly perfect 'o.'

Another boy, nearly hidden in the shadow of the first, hushed him. "He's a Jounin, Chouji," the skinny child said, rubbing his pug nose with the back of one hand. "Don't trouble him."

The heavier child swallowed and held out his food. "Dango?"

Genma paused. He smiled, pulled the senbon out of his mouth, and took a bite.

He chewed thoughtfully. "Little sweet for my taste," he said, patting his pockets. He found the lump he was looking for and drew it out, offering the wrapped candy to the kid. "Here. You might like this. It's too sweet for me, too."

"Thanks," the boy said, grinning hugely. The tribal tattoos--inane looking swirls, Genma thought--seemed to grow with the smile.

Behind him, he heard Mizuki retch.

Genma walked on.

--End

Author’s notes: Nightshade, also sometimes called belladonna, is a narcotic, diuretic, sedative, antispasmodic, and mydriatic. It is VERY deadly, and I’m just guessing--through research--that it could induce the state Iruka was in. For more information, go here: http://www.botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/n/nighde05.html Among other places. ;)

Other notes: Many thanks to Darksideofthestorm, who's beta'ed the whole series thus far. She's pretty amazing, able to keep up with this, innit she? *grins*

Other other notes: Woot! Just one more main story to go in the series! (And a few companion pieces I have ideas for . . . ;))

J

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