A Friend in Need

Hiro hadn't ever met the general manager of Tension but she knew her name. It was signed at the bottom of several contract and welcome documents she had tucked away back in her apartment. What type of person were they? Would they forgive what happened here today or would they seem to punish the both of them. There was a small chance this could put her on the bad side of management as well, the last thing she wanted was more problems stacked on top of the existing ones. Today started with such promise, how had it spiraled out of control to this degree?

Their internal gloom dissipated as Nobu walked through the storm cloud surrounding them. She found herself quietly looking his way, distracted if for just a moment. This was the first good look she had gotten of him outside their initial bathroom encounter. An interesting style, to be sure, but Hiro couldn't really judge. Her own tastes were rather archaic by most standards. There was a jarring control between the two of them in nearly energy regard… it was almost humorous.

She was slowly coming around, nodding with what Nobu was saying. A fresh start sounded good. There was some merit in the fact that she was very much alone here in Tension, save for some of her fellow rookies, among them being Micca. Having someone who knew this place a bit better would be nice… perhaps she could even be a good influence on Nobu who seemed to be a bit of a troubled soul.

While she didn't quite understand everything Nobu was telling her, the core message was there. It was one she was familiar with. After all, she had been fooling people for years now pretending to be something she wasn't. What harm would a bit of selective truth do, so long as she was responsible about it. The young girl briefly considered making terms in which Nobu would follow so this agreement had more to it than. Whatever he was setting up… but the promise to behave seemed all Hiro could ask for.

"My name is Shiba Hiro." Drawing in a deep breath, she straightened herself up, offering a hand to Nobu. "And you are?" She was taking the who fresh start a bit literally, perhaps trying a bit harder than she should with a forced smile. This was better than the alternatives though, right?

Nobu's friends always used to remark the prankster prince "had a mouth that belonged in a circus." A description he could never tell whether it was a compliment or not, but one that was remarkably appropriate given that he could honestly give pretty stirring speeches and convincing diatribes if given the opportunity. Nobu's uncle just so happened to be an esteemed lawyer, so perhaps tactfully pleading your case simply ran in the family. Though for Nobu, it was a talent of his most often utilized when he was being tugged up and off of his feet up by his collar in the wee seconds before potentially getting walloped by a humorless pranking victim. Although Nobu started this particular winding dialogue simply to curtail him from tattling on him to the principal, he ended up swerving it into being completely genuine.

In this specific case, he meant every word. Nobu knowing musclebound friends firsthand who were given their walking papers with nothing to show for their efforts but a dismal win/loss record and a fractured coccyx...whatever that was. He could already envision this new-blood here just waltzing into the Tension locker room and standing up for some pipsqueak getting bullied...only for that pipsqueak to bolt and leave her alone to get compacted into the trash bin. He'd seen it happen so many times...he just didn't want to see this new guy washout like the rest. Not after he was cool enough to fight off his attacker. Plus he associated even moreso with Shiba because they were of comparable size and stature. But now that he got a better look at Shiba, it turns out the dude had those natural good locks that probably makes him a hit with the ladies. Lucky devil...but the golden-haired prankster would hardly suppress his elation when Shiba took him up on his offer on starting over clean.

"Awwww sheeeeet, Mah Man!!!!" Nobu ecstatically reared back his hand to smack theirs together for as manly a handshake he could muster before going into an elaborate yanking of her fingers into a bro-tastic fist bump. "Name's Nobu Tano...happy to make your acquaintance, and happy to meet a new friend. From now on, we'll have eachother's back through thick and thin, ol boy. Hey listen, why don't you take a load off while I turn some lights on or something. Dark as hell in here...." Nobu than merrily going across the room to start turning on some lights, the transition from dusk to night making visibility quite poor in the luxurious suite...

When it came to a proper, firm handshake, Hiro had him covered. A respectable grip that wasn't too tight but gave hints to just how much strength was hidden in that slender frame. When Nobu altered course to tie it all together with a fist bump, she fumbled harder then the losing field goal at the Superbowl. Shuddering as the unanticipated wiggle of departing fingers and caught limp fisted when her new friend brought their knuckles together. Clearly her bro etiquette was in desperate need of a brush up.

She was thankful when her embarrassing display was put to rest, not subject to any more specialty greetings or hidden handshakes. She took his suggestion to heart, turning away to eye the general layout of the room to find a suitable place to sit. The recliner seemed a bit too lavish, a couch in the center of the room as well. She settled by padding across the room to a small table with a bench. Perhaps a makeup station of sorts? Settling down, Hiro briefly  eyes the neatly organized contents on the wooden surface. Anti-chafe powder, various creams... She reached out to gently pinch the necks of a few darkly colored bottles, turning them around to read the labels. "The Great Pines", "Sunrise Snowdrift", "Tsunami", and "Aged Oaken Cask"... They all seemed to be scented hair oils. At a small sniff, even former, their smell lingered to the point of overpowering her senses, nearly making her eyes water.

Hiro leans back slightly, scooting the stool to the side to eye the last thing piled on the table top, a small collection of magazines. Several different ones with an overarching outdoorsman theme throughout. Most all of them depicted sweeping scenic backdrops in nature and either a large animal prominently displayed on the cover or a substantially larger man than herself with a rugged beard. Quietly she thumbed through the pages of survival accounts, protein dieting advice, and advertisements for various items such as tools or weapons... There were an alarming amount of knives. It was safe to assume this was a dressing room frequented by one or more male member of Tension.

Her eyes wandered up to the mirror mounted in the wall in front of her, frowning at her own darkened reflection as lights hummed to life, illuminating the backdrop. Carefully she adjusted her collar then her hat, making sure she looked need and presentable as the boy she was pretending to be. Just as she was finishing up, something caught her eye, a figure in the back of the room! She straightened up in a paranoid instant of jumpiness before understanding they weren't moving.

She blinked, peering back over her shoulder at a life-sized cardboard cutout of a massive muscular figure… holding a bowl of noodles. Some sort of commercial memorabilia? Her eyes continued across the walls that might as well have been wallpapered with promotional posters and advertisements. The only common thread among them was the man prominently displayed…

Dasher Inoba.

She knew him even at a glance. It wasn't just his reputation within Tension, he had been something of a household name at one point. It hadn't been until she overheard a few other hopeful members joking about being humbled in their training seminar that she had really found out about his current run in AFW and the toxic misogyny surrounding it. It had been a disappointing thing to find out, the sort of thing one would shake their head about and simply say "That's a shame."

"Maybe we should go." She found herself rising from the stool, looking back to Nobu. While part of her mind told her how unlikely it would be that the infrequent challenge maker would actually be in the building today of all days, it was pretty clear this particular room had someone assigned to it. The last thing they needed was to be spotted looting inside or found slipping out of it by a passing member of staff. Surely there were darker, quieter corners to lay low in.

Given that disastrously awkward floundering of fingers and uncoordinated fist bumps, Nobu knew he had a long way to go in terms of getting his newfound friend up to speed on how to chill and be one of the guys. Hiro was all uptight, rigid, law-abiding, and worst of all...honest. Nobu, in his own head-canon, just figured the dude was probably home-schooled all of his life and grew up with textbooks as his only friends or something. Probably only allowed outside when under strict supervision by his superstrict mom, but was nevertheless taught self-defence techniques in some weird obsession she had with raising the perfect son. Until he finally drummed up the strength to escape from her manipulation and ran away from home. Determined to survive out in the real world, of which he never truly interacted with.

...how tragic.

WELL LUCKILY, he just so happened to run into the bestest friend he'll ever need~...Someone to teach him all the ropes of this dog eat dog wrestling federation, guide him in the ways of wholesome social activity...and best of all, Nobu now has a gullibl-uh...dependable, partner to hide behind and fight all of his battles for him. Of which there were sure to be plenty moving forward, but after such a harrowing escape, he figured they earned themselves a relaxing break from all the action. Nobu's legs were killing him anyway...he hadn't run this much since high-school. "Hm? Go? What for? We just got here..." Nobu casually remarked while taking in the awesome view of the Kyoto setting sun. *Ahhhh...NOW...to see what's worth pilfering in this place-* Nobu's thoughts stopped like someone slamming on the brakes as he turned around, facing the illuminated dressing room with dilated eyes and trembling shiver down his spine. His vision darting across the room at a whirling, breakneck speed to each and every piece of evidence detailing who the obvious occupant is.

*...Outdoorsman magazine???!!...Black wrestling trunks???!!!...Cup O Noodles cardboard cutout????!!!!...AGED OAKEN CASK BOWL-CUT HAIR GEL?????!!!!!* Nobu took one hearty gulp and stuffed back down his trembling trepidation to try and sound as cool as the Caribbean. They shouldn't have anything to worry about just yet, provided they aren't already the luckiest guys in the entire freaking roster. But just in case...it's in both of their best interests to just skedaddle. "Uh...yah know...maybe we SHOULD go try another luxury suite. The one across the hall has a much better view anyway and-"

~~~Currently transpiring outside~~~

"...*grumble*...Incompetent students...*grumble*...THEY lost my keycard, not me!!!...Waste of my valuable time..." People in the hallway cleared a path for a brooding behemoth stomping down the polished corridor, dressed in an expensive tuxedo that stretched thin from the massive biceps within. Those bystanders wisely avoiding eye contact once observing his stewing temperament while muttering bitterly with white knuckled fists as if looking for a face to wallop. Dasher having just come from the front desk after reporting his keycard stolen from his duffel bag and having to pay for a new one. And yet despite him being the only person allowed to hold his keycards, he assured himself one of his students was somehow to blame for this irksome inconvenience. One that was rectified but still put his entire schedule out of whack. His darkening shadow enveloping the door to his luxury dressing room before he raised his hand to start frantically swiping the keycard through the slot...way too fast for it to register the signal...yet. But the false swipes and his ogrelike grouchiness could easily be heard within the room.

~~~Currently transpiring inside~~~

...a puff of smoke was all that would be left of where Nobu was standing, the yellow-belied trickster currently scrambling to fit himself inside an adjacent closet filled with suits and Dasher's unkempt laundry.

Nobu's own mental musings on the original of Hiro, while far from the reality of things did hold within them some wild ideas that weren't terrible far from tapping into the truths of her actual life. Strange how the absurd manifested in such a way, if only she could see the potential of marketing all of this into a book deal or a screenplay. Alas, the tragic story behind who made her into a him, was not something Hiro liked to dwell on and certainly wasn't keen on sharing with anyone, let alone strangers. Some things were better left alone, this was one of those things. Far too many painful memories attached.

When Hiro stood up, she reached down to pay off the cushioned stool, adjusting how it sat as if resetting it to a zero state, free from having been handled by her. There was nothing else to right to make the room pristine again, at least that she had laid hands on so the prompt exit of the suite seemed the obvious follow-up. Turning to Nobu, she gave a firm nod in agreement, glad the both of them were mostly on the same page. Taking over another private room however was something she would speak up against, but only once they left and she could force a more immediate choice from Nobu on the spot.

Her attention perked to the computerized pings coming from beyond the door, the high pitched beep even muffled was easily heard. Having caught her ear, it was clear someone was on the other side, possibly more… She could hear the mumbling. Turning back to Nobu to seek his counsel, she was left blinking at his sudden departure. Looking left than right, she caught sight of him scrambling inside a closet. Good call.

Hiro broke out in a jog, looking back over her shoulder with each passing moment to check on the status of the door. Reaching the closet, she turned herself sideways, trying to slide herself in beside Nobu… it was a tight fit to be sure, there was an awful lot of junk pile in here.

"Make room." She hissed in a low whisper, frantically trying to make this hiding spot work for the both of them

Self-preservation kicked in like a mother once Nobu overheard the buzzing rejections of a technologically inept, bowl-cutted troll at the door. He knew it was the bogeyman himself because that's just how rotten he knew his luck was. It was only through random circumstance that he spotted Dasher earlier in the day chastising his students for being late with his coffee...and his keycard dangling halfway out of his back-pocket. As rudimentary a pick-pocketing you could find...But Nobu knew better than to sneak into his luxury dressing room on the day he stole it, when the dude was practically still in the building. Hence the abject terror when he realized which room they had bungled their way into. Dasher used scrawny runts like them for toothpicks, and that's exactly what was gonna happen to him if Dasher finds the thief himself shacking up in his dressing room, and if he didn't fit himself inside this confounded closet already.

*Rrrrgh...friggin boxes...I can't...* Squeezing himself inside the closet jam-packed with offensively rank gym outfits and boxes of Cup O' Noodles soup, Nobu adjusted things around to the point where it looked like he could fit in no problem...but than Hiro started making his way inside too. Of course he chooses now for them to try and get closer as buddies, and wedged inside a closet was about as close as Nobu was comfortable with getting. Nobu tried to make room as best he could, but his extensive experience in the art of running and/or hiding indicated the cold truth to him almost instantly. This just wasn't gonna work, no friggin way were they gonna fit inside together. And eventually Dasher was going to accidentally swipe the card the right way and come barging inside...but than, something struck Nobu deep inside. An epiphany that reminded him how a man handles himself, and reminded him of what it was like to have a moralistic code of honor.

"Alrightlooklooklook..." Nobu sputtered before taking a hand and placing it on Hiro's shoulder, exhaling deeply to further steady his resolve as he looked into his newfound friend's eyes with resolute determination. "We've been running and running from our problems all day...and it's gotten us nowhere. This isn't how men of Tension conduct themselves. Sometimes...Sometimes a wrestler just has to plant their feet...stand firm...and face the music...andtodaythatwrestlerisyou." A forceful shove and slamming shut of the closet door later, Hiro would find himself square in the middle of the room just as Dasher managed to swipe the keycard correctly, and curiously come across an odd fellow inside of his dressing room. "Hm?...What the?! I don't recognize you from one of my wrestling classes...Who are you, and what in blazes are you doing in my private dressing room, eh??!!" Dasher barked while encroaching upon the supposed intruder, his meaty fists clenched as his ominous shadow eclipsed the young man in front of him...

While Hiro was remarkably good and puzzles, no matter which way she tried to wedge herself in she was either met with resistance from something inside or a blunderous misstep of Nobu getting in her way. If she couldn't find a space beside him… she planted her feet, trying to shove the slight man in harder in an attempt to squeeze them both inside and should have continued like that if not for her companions outcry.

She stopped, if for but a moment when Nobu clasp a hand on her shoulder, one of her eyes twitching slightly at the corner at the contract meant to be comforting. She kept her guy reaction in check this time and thankfully didn't unleash on her new friend as she did earlier to their pursuer. Her hard blue eyes met his in this moment of desperation, nodding slowly with what advice he was giving… until she found herself stumbling from a sudden shove. She lived on the ball of her foot, immediately rushing back to the closet just in time to have it slam in her face.

"Nobu… open the door." She gave the closet a thump with her fist, pressing herself up against the door. "You told me to avoid standing up, lay low you said… which is it?!" Her voice was a low stage whisper but easily heard through the wooden barrier between them as something that should have been yelled.

"The bro code, what about the bro co-" the rhythmic beep of failure finally was interrupted by the jingle of success across the room. Hiro whirled about, back pressed firmly to the closet as she stared to the opening doorway and a lumbering Dasher coming through. He didn't notice her ah first, grumbling softly to himself but when their eyes finally did meet there was a sudden stillness. Hiro remained pinned to the wall in hopes she had somehow turned invisible and he was just so happening to look in her direction, but when the Dashing One finally spoke it was undeniable towards her.

"I…" Words caught in her throat as she tried to figure out what to say. Hiro liked plans, making them, sticking to them, and figuring out all thing potential outcomes to better combat deviation. Snap divisions were not her strong suit as could be observed quite well throughout the day. Now with the looming threat of Dasher Inoba standing before her, primed and ready to grind her into the dirt, she had to do something…

So she smiled. The biggest smile she had ever put on in her life, to the point her cheeks ached. Stepping forward she bowed deeply, not making eye contact… then remembered her hat and swiped it off, bowing a second time.

"Inoba-sama. You honor me with your presence! Please forgive this most rude of intrusions upon your private quarters!" She stared long and hard at the floor, speaking far more worry than usual to buy her time to think. "I am Shiba Hiro, a reputationless cur that has only just joined the ranks of Tension, not fit to bask within the radiant glow of its most elite! Please accept my humblest of apologises for treading where I do not belong, but I have come for a reason… if you would allow me to explain." An idea clicked suddenly as Hiro stood straight up, reaching back to give the closet door another small rattle.

"For you see, Inoba-sama, in my travels I have found an item -most- important to you and wished to see it safely returned." She lightly knocked on the closet leaving an open palm at the opening of it so hopefully Nobu would hand her the key card back… an offering for the beast. "You have no doubt been missing this… allow me to set your mind at ease."

"TherearemanyfacetstothebrocodebutIbeleiveinyabuddy..." These would be the whispered words muttered back to Hiro at a breakneck pace from a terrified trickster still bravely cowering within the odorous closet after making the sacrifice play, which involved someone else making the sacrifice. In hindsight, it may not have been the wisest maneuver to believe Nobu would have done any different considering he had just gone on a rather verbose diatribe about the lengths to which he would go to for his own self-preservation. Hey, he wasn't completely heartless, this was tearing him up inside too!!! Throwing his newfound friend to the bowl-cutted wolves so soon in their budding bromance wasn't exactly an easy decision for him to make...but, he could still sleep with this. A lot better than he could sleeping in a body-cast with a shattered femur and twisted ankles if he ever had to square off with with the monstrously muscled mammoth of a man currently striding in poor Hiro's direction. Nobu audibly gulped and covered his eyes from the gratuitous violence that was clearly about to unfold before him, already making plans to make a break for the exit once poor Hiro was locked into the notoriously agonizing Inoba Clutch...

Dasher stroked his massive chin with an inspectful inquisitiveness to the oddly well-dressed young man before him, cocking an eyebrow as he approached the blue-haired rapscallion who he first assumed to be a thieving bandit whom he caught in the act. Which was quite fortuitous, as he needed a poor sap to be the recipient of all of his repressed irritation today. But...it he appears he may been mistaken. Dasher's menacing demeanor being retracted the more Hiro spoke and showed the Dashing grappler the proper level of respect and admiration as befitting a man of his fame, stature, and acclaim. Ever since signing his esteemed name on the dotted line of his Tension contract, none of the noodle-armed runts they call "men" in this league have shown him the proper reverence in so humbly a fashion. Nobu eventually peeking through his fingers in the closet when noticing the lack of pained yelping or floor shaking suplexes. Instead he gawked in befuddled confusion at what was transpiring and how any of this was working. But he nevertheless managed to recognize Hiro's hand gesture and the assuaging plan at play. He scrounged up Dasher's keycard from his pocket and carefully slid it into his buddy's palm trough the closet's shutters with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth from properly aiming the card drop right into her hand.

"Hmmmm..." Dasher skeptically accepted the keycard and studied it meticulously before sliding it back into his jacket pocket, forebodingly encroaching upon Hiro with a scowling step in her direction. "HMMPH...I think I know what we have here..." Threatening words being spoken as he leaned forward to fully eclipse Hiro in his looming shadow, fully believing he's seen all he needs to see to make his final judgment on the situation as to who this mysterious fellow really was. And in one deft blurring motion...his brawny arm would swoop around Hiro from the side for a commanding side-hug that brought the young fellow in right beside his beefy figure. "...a true man of honor, and first inkling of inspiring hope I've seen in this pitiful roster of so-called men....BWAHAHA!!!!" Dasher bellowed merrily with booming laughter, stepping them away from his closet with their back still turned to it and towards the middle of the room. "Such honor and respect shown towards your betters, and unmitigated wisdom in choosing your role models. Perhaps this newer generation has some fine young men waiting to be unearthed after all. Now how did you come across my keycard in the first place, young Hiro?"

Hiro wasn't especially silver tongued, but respect had been something demanded of her earlier in life. Her father was a unyieldingly obtuse man, one who left his mark on almost every aspect of her life. She had learned to give him what he wanted in hopes it would spare her the worst of things to come… this situation was eerily reminiscent to that. She told Dasher everything she thought he'd like to hear, being as vague as possible due to her lack of witnessing his full body of work past second hand stories. It seemed to be working...

When Hiro felt something finally drop into her palm, there was a sudden rush of joy that almost had her crack a smile. She needed to be certain though. Her fingers turned the item over in her hand, feeling its size and shape to get a good idea of what Nobu had actually slipped. It wasn't that she didn't trust her new friend… but he seemed to have certain quirks that made her wary of what she was handed. It was light in her hand, it certainly felt card shaped… this was as sure as she could be.

She brought her hands around, palms upturned side by side to present the key card as if it were a precious treasure recently unearthed. Head still bowed, she lifted it just enough to take a peek to make sure she wasn't about to be set upon by the lumbering lug. Everything seemed in order and the key had found its rightful owner again.

She finally rose from her bow once her gift had been accepted, hoping that it had been enough to satisfy but the look Dasher gave the key card before pocketing it and her made her chest tighten as her heart skipped a beat. "Oh?" Her voice cracked like a young man going through the beginnings of puberty as she was cast in shadow by the bowlcut beefcake leaning down to eye her.

She held back yelping as the large arm came around her, dragging her to Dasher's side to uncomfortably be side by side with him. Her whole body was tense, muscles locked in place making her more like one solid piece of matter than an articulating living being, not all to unlike the nearby cardboard cutouts. His laughter made her wince at first, still slightly confused that her attempt at deception seemed to have worked. After a moment she let out a robotic attempt at laughter as well, to join in with Dasher though it was tinged with nervousness.

"You are too kind Inoba-sama." She murmured with a small controlled how of her head. At his question though she turned her head to peer upwards at him, blinking. A roulette wheel in her mind started to spin, giving her a suite of places she could have found the keycard. The parking lot, bathrooms, locked rooms, entryway… the options were vast but came with the issue of not knowing where Dasher tended to travel in or around the arena. Every choice had a risk associated with it and came with a calculated risk. She hated this.

"On the ground." She suddenly blurted out. The most nondescript, universal answer she could imagine. No matter how divine Dasher might believe himself, there would always be ground… right? She hazarded an uncomfortably forced grin up to the muscled meatcastle, very subtly trying to wriggle from from his mitts. "I was only doing my duty  as a member of Tension and a citizen of Japan to ensure it saw its way back to your esteemed hands, safely"

And to think. Dasher was beginning to lose hope of ever finding a knowledgeable, respectful young man amongst today's namby-pamby stick figures people call "wrestlers" nowadays. The current crop of trainees at his specialized performance center not instilling much further confidence considering how they consistently moan and complain after one measly five mile hike in the woods at 6:00 AM. The Dashing Brawler always catchinghis students frittering their time away on their "cellular" phones, what with their "facebooking" and "tweetering" or some such nonsense. Instilling a strong sense of iron hearted discipline into these confounded Generation Z'er's can be a taxing effort even for him at times, especially when not a single one of them have treated him with the appreciative reverence that a wrestling legend of his caliber outright deserves for his myriad of grappling accomplishments...

...that is, until this fine day. When pure luck, happenstance, and misplaced keycards led to this meeting of like-minded men within his humble dressing-room. Now, Hiro here was the type of upstanding gentleman and promising youth that Dasher thought we might never come across. One who acknowledges the bowl-cutted paragon of lion-hearted manliness for who he is, and had went far out of his way to ensure Dasher had easy access to his dressing quarters. And here Dasher was, first entering the room thinking he was going to put this supposed "intruder" through one helluva back-bending, ankle-twisting, bear-hugging, vertical-suplexing malicious beatdown the likes of which could never have been seen on daytime television...instead, he's come across an aspiring youth...and probable pupil. "Hmm...I see. One of my absent-minded students must have dropped it. Finding capable trainees is quite the hassle, let me tell you..." Dasher lamented with a sigh, gazing to the side while unknowingly maintaining his brawny embrace with flexing rigidity. Squashing any writhing attempts on Hiro's part to squirm free, and kept him stuck between a rock and a hard place. Those being Dasher's bulging biceps and the rock-like musculature of his physique, until he perked up with an index finger pointed to the ceiling.

"Ah!!! Allow me to repay your kindness this day, my good lad. A promising young man and devout fan such as yourself deserves a reward fitting of such well-placed hero worship. A signed autograph from yours truly~..." Dasher bellowed with a beating fist pound to his pecs, smiling merrily as he strode towards the back of the room with Hiro still in hugging tow. The stiffened Dasher fan being carried along and held aloft to the point where the tips of her sneakers were scrapping against the floor rug until they came to his office cabinet, where Hiro would be released so that he could more easily search through it's drawers in search of his stack of headshots and a silver marker as well...unbeknownst to him, a certain blonde-haired trickster was watching this all go down to wide-eyed astonishment. And witnessing Dasher's turned back as the perfect opportunity to make his Great Escape. Nobu carefully and slowly opening the closet doors with the utmost of care as not to make a solitary sound...he cautiously closed it behind him and began making cartoonishly exaggerated tip-toed steps towards the only exit door in the room...fully knowing that the slightest noise could arouse Dasher's suspicion...

*CREAK*

...which was why it gave a Nobu a friggin heart attack when he managed to step onto the only creaking floorboard in the room. The petrified trickster frozen in place as Dasher perked his head up with a twitch to his ear. "Hmm...what was that?"