Tumgik
#yeah sure peace between rival villages
monstersqueen · 3 years
Text
i’m having so much gaara/naruto feels
#myposts#writing the suna chunin exams AU#and trying to get into naruto and touch#(and how gaara has basically teh same issues) and i'm overcome BY THAT FUKCKING HANDSHAKE#yeah sure peace between rival villages#yeah sure naruto acknowledged by a kage#blablabla let's be honest#this is about two kids who understand the issues the other have with connecting better than anyone else can)#it's a good ship really#and in that au they didn't fight?#but naruto is just as important to gaara as he is in canon?#i don't think he's gonna inspire gaara to become kazekage#gaara's proabbly going to stop the mindless killing on his own#because it was never who he was#and look for naruto#he was never looked at as his own person as A REAL PERSON A KID#until he started figthing and bleeding for the people around him#but here gaara is looking at him and.#this time naruto didn't even fight him to the death and cry for him?#it's mind boggling for him#(and also. once more i get where naruhina comes from because.#this too is valid for hinata?#naruto might not know it but he was important to her BEFORE he fought for her#and like. i think right i really want that for him#kiddo never had friends or family he didn't have to do miracles for before being accepted#after that many people are ready to protect him and make sure he doesn't take the whole world on his shoulders!#(gaara keeping him away from the war. sakura desperately trying to take away from him the promise he made her#etc)#at some level he must still think that if he doesn't manage to be strong enough to protect them#he doesn't deserve their love and will lose it
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shapeshiftinterest · 3 years
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Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay?: mao x considering multiple ships
mao mao heroes of pureheart pride month event
prompt mix:
prompt 1 - Questioning
side: current and possible future questioning, because sometimes ppl find a label that they vibe with more and that’s hella valid
prompt 2 - Realization
story under the read more
Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay? (also on ao3)
Mao and Badgerclops were sitting on the couch, having a lazy day watching TV. It’d been surprisingly peaceful as of late, and Adorabat was on a class field trip with her dad as one of the chaperones.
Badgerclops was laughing at one of the cooking contestants flailing about as dramatic music playing during the timed challenge.
Mao shuffled in his seat, sparing a glance to his left before looking back at the TV.
“...Hey, Badgerclops,“ he started, “do you think I’m gay?“
The cyclops in question hummed, lowering the volume and leaning back on Sofia’s armrest so he could focus on his friend. “Whaddaya mean?”
Mao mimicked the other’s pose. “I dunno, just been thinking about it recently and I think I might be gay. Maybe. Maybe not??”
Badgerclops nodded, a silent encouragement for him to continue.
“I’ve dated girls before,” he started, before grumbling under his breath, “well, one girl. But that was a long time ago.“
“I mean, I used to think maybe you were aroace and just like, super flirty by nature or something,“ Badgerclops shrugged. “Most of your attention was geared towards becoming a hero, y’know?“
Mao rested his chin on his knuckles, taking a moment to gather and reword his thoughts. 
“Sometimes I get flustered talking with the King but he’s always like that,” he said, more to himself than to Badgerclops, “I banter with Orangusnake a lot but we’re rivals so that’s normal hero business. Eugene’s pretty interesting but I’m sure it’s only because we’re looking after Adorabat, and there was that whole thing with Tanya when she visited and almost took you as a bounty...“
Mao gnawed on the index knuckle of his glove before looking up. “It’s kind of embarrassing but I’ve tried imagining myself in couple situations with guys and-.”
He sighed, picking at his gloves. “I’m not sure if it’s only guys is what I’m trying to say.”
Badgerclops nodded. “You don’t have to like girls just because you dated them in the past, I get it,“ he said, patting the cat’s shoulder. “Hmmmm. Did you feel anything when Tanya was here?“
Mao’s brow furrowed. “Irritation, frustration, some sad and confused feelings, I guess? I can’t really remember, I was more focused on getting you back.“
Badgerclops aaawwwed. “But she was hot though, right?“ Aaand moment ruined.
“Badgerclops!“ Mao blustered, sitting up and blushing. His friend just laughed  and swung a leg over, pinning the cat’s down so that both heroes were lying down on their respective couch sides with their heads against the armrests.
“Answer the question, Mao~.“
Grumbling, Mao bit out a huffy ‘yes’ and crossed his arms.
“Hehe, so we’ve established that you at least still kind of like Tanya,” Badgerclops stated, ticking a claw, “and before that, you said you like daydreaming about (and flirting with) the King, Adorabat’s dad, and the leader of the Sky Pirates.” He ticked 3 more fingers.
“Wh- I said we bantered, Badgerclops! It’s completely different!“
Badgerclops rolled his good eye.
"Oh yeah, you guys were tooootally just bantering during last week’s fight," he scoffed, crossing his arms, "was checking out his butt when his axe got stuck in the fountain part of your word battle or was it a distraction tactic on his part?"
Mao let out a string of indecipherable sounds as his partner snickered.
“Dude, Mao. The king gives you looks when the two of you ‘talk’. Looks and sass that don’t really come out when he directly talks to any of the villagers. From a third party perspective, he’s definitely flirting. Same with Orangusnake. Well,” Badgerclops made a face, remembering their recent hospital visit, “almost the same.”
“Honestly I don’t talk to Eugene all that much, but I’m pretty sure he’s been warming up to both of us. Plus, I do think you should also consider...,“ he gestured between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. 
Mao stared at his co-hero, unamused. 
Badgerclops repeated the gesture, this time wiggling the eyebrow and giving a suggestive hum.
Mao snorted, giving a few half hearted kicks to the other’s leg until the other freed him. The two sat up and faced the TV again.
“Maybe,“ Badgerclops said, “you’re bi, instead of like, being into guys, specifically.“
Mao blinked, heroic brain thinking about what his companion just said. “Huh. Maybe you’re right.” He glanced at his friend and smiled, before going back to watch the screen. “Thanks, Badgerclops.”
Badgerclops raised the volume back up. “No problem, dude.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Mao as he leaned into his side. The cat’s head rested on his chest as his ears brushed against the taller’s cheek. 
They stayed like that until both of them fell asleep.
________________________________________________________________
this is semi based on how i talk out my problems to my siblings sometimes
the couple situation is an actual thing i did when i was questioning if i liked guys and girls or just girls, in possible romantic ways
so like, could i realistically imagine and be ok with holding hands, kissing, just lying next to a person, having them touch my hair or something if they were a girl vs a guy if i HAD to be in a relationship with someone
bonus stuff i wasn’t sure how to write in:
mao and BC were holding hands while watching the TV before this conversation
mao has had dreams of him and BC living together before coming to PHV, and even after living there
mao and BC are both bi leaning towards men in this fic (badgerclops already knows about himself)
overall vibe is badgermao but they’re not dating (closer to queer platonic i think?), BUT neither of them would be opposed to dating the other
also if they did date each other later on in this fic they would definitely talk about the others (tanya, snugglemagne, orangusnake, eugene) and who would be their 3rd for a polyamorous kind of thing
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illogicalpunkwrites · 3 years
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Drive Me Crazy
Hi everyone! So this is a part 2 to The Cave (click the link to read!) that someone asked about (for some reason it won’t let me tag you but I’ll message you!). Thank you so much for reading!
Pairings: Leonard McCoy X Kirk!Reader
Rating: T
Words: 2.1K
Warnings: Angst, injury, comfort, confessions, cursing
Tagss; @theweepingvulcan91 @bloodangelballerina
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You could tell that Len was tense as you and Jim sat on biobeds. You clutched at your side that was still bleeding, spreading pain throughout your entire body. You’d gotten hit by a rival tribe arrow trying to take over a peaceful settlement between the main tribe on the planet and Starfleet studying the flora for medicinal properties. Jim suffered from a sprained ankle that got twisted in a trap set, something he know you’d never let him live down.
It all happened so fast and you didn’t have any time to think, just act. Even with an arrow impaled in you, you had to grab the explosive they made so it wouldn’t kill anymore of the villagers or other Starfleet members. You grabbed the device and threw it just in time so it hit the enemy. It made them retreat and it also made you pass out.
You hissed and Len pressed down on your wound before he quickly hit you with a hypospray, the whispering sound being one that you had been used to for quite some time. He quickly got to work as Christine ran vitals on Jim. 
“Bones, what’s wrong?’ Jim asked and you thought Len’s forehead was going to pop out of his head. It reminded you of when the two of you refused to get along.
“Nothing.” He got to work suturing you up, making you lay down. It had barely pierced your large intestine but your blood rushing with the adrenaline made you bleed out faster back on the planet. 
“Len, I’m fine.”
“The hell you are.” 
Christine and Jim looked at each other as she put away her tricorder and turned off the machine behind him.
“Just rest for a few days, Captain. Keep your ankle elevated and you’ll be fine.” She replied and he nodded. 
“Bones, we had everything under-”
“Don’t you are say you had everything under control, Jim! She could’ve died! She went after a live explosive!”  Leonard snapped. 
“I knew what I was-”
“She did what she had to do to protect the village! I was out for the count and she stepped up!” Jim replied.
“She should’ve-”
“Hey! I’m right here so talk to me!” You snapped. “I did what I had to do, McCoy! If I hadn’t then the entire team would be dead! I did what I was supposed to do, I did my goddamn job. Now it’s yours to patch me up.” That reminded him of an argument you two had not too long ago. With a grumble under his breath he quickly finished you up.
“You’ll be fine soon. Take it easy if that’s somewhere in your job description.” He walked out of the room to care for other patients on the other side and you and Jim looked at each other. 
“Alright, we’ve been in scraps like this before but he’s never acted like this.”
“I know. I think it’s been a stressful day for everybody.” Christine sighed and went ahead trying to sterilize some equipment. 
“That’s for sure. Good work down there but next time we need to be more careful.” You laughed but winced and grabbed at your side.
“Sure, we’ve been saying that since we were kids. Go get some rest.” He walked out of medbay as you put your regulation uniform back on to get back to your room.
“He was upset, y’know.” Christine said, making you spin around. “You scared him when they told him you were unresponsive. He thought you had died, Commander. After he found out what you did and that you had a pulse, that’s when he got angry.”
“He’s always angry.”
“Not with you anymore. I know he enjoys the time you spend together after the cave incident.” You looked down at your boots pensively. Your job was dangerous, what you did was dangerous, but it ultimately ended the fight and saved everyone that you were trying to protect. But maybe you had been too harsh on Leonard. However, it wasn’t helping that he was talking to Jim about you rather than talking to you directly. It made you feel like a child again, like Jim was supposed to be your keeper. “Just take some time to heal. Maybe while you’re doing that you can talk to Dr. McCoy.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
XXXXXX
You sighed down at your PADD as you wrote the report for the previous day. After being stitched up, you pretty much all but passed out on your bunk. When you came back to reality, you knew that talking to Leonard had to be on your agenda but You couldn’t bring yourself to him. It was weird though. You usually talked every day but it had been over 24 hours at this point. 
Taking one last sip of your liquor, you put on some flats and slipped out of your room. His room wasn’t too far away, but you also knew that he stayed in his office when he was stressed so he might not be there. You gave a soft knock on the door and you had wished you put on some pants instead of shorts with your baggy academy crewneck. 
He opened the door but he didn’t look excited to see you like every other time you would visit. 
“Hey, can I come in?” He moved out of the way for you and closed the door. “Can we talk?”
“Are you going to apologize?” You sighed and he took a sip of his bourbon. “Then there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Leonard, what do you want me to do?” You sat down in one of his chairs as he walked to the opposite side of the room.
“I just told you.”
“If I hadn’t done what I did then everyone would be hurt or dead! I’m sorry that I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that. But I’m not going to apologize for doing what I was trained to do.”
“To kill yourself? That’s what they trained you to do?” You felt your blood boiling over and you wish he would just understand. 
“To maximize the probability of my team living is what I was trained to do, Len!” You flinched when his glass harshly hit his desk as he spun to face you.
“Do you have any regard for yourself whatsoever? Do you ever think about your own well-being? I’ve said it  before and I’ll say it again, you get injured more than anyone on this damn ship! Do you even care about what happens to you?”
“Of course I do but one life is not as important as twenty others!” His brows furrowed at you. 
“What?”
“My life isn’t as important as-”
“WELL IT’S IMPORTANT TO ME!” He yelled and your eyes widened. He breathed out slowly and sat down at the foot of his bed. “It’s important to me. When they told me you were unresponsive, bleeding out...I didn’t know what to do with myself. I kept thinking about all the things that we hadn’t done yet, all the things I hadn’t told you, never gotten the chance to tell you. All the things you would have never known.” You were quiet, sheepish even. You searched around for the right words to say but you thought they might never come. He had his face buried in his hands, no doubt embarrassed by his outburst.
“My job is dangerous, Len. It’s hard knowing every time that I leave this ship it could by my last time seeing everybody. But I do it because I want to keep everyone else safe.”
“That doesn’t always have to come at the cost of you.” He replied and you nodded. 
“It often does. It kills me every time someone on my team gets hurt or dies. I always think about what I could’ve done or...” You shook your head and sat down next to him. “The worst times are when I’m away from the ship and...something happens when I’m not here but you are.” He lifted his head from his hands to look at you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “If something were to happen to you and I wasn’t there I don’t know what I would do. It fucking kills me thinking about that. I know that I need to be more careful and I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m just tired of being scared, of feeling guilt. But now I know I’m just making everyone else feel scared.” 
“I forget how many people you’ve lost on this mission.”
“And I forget how often you have too.” You were both silent but the room didn’t have the same energy. Tense? Yes. Anger? Not anymore. 
“I just...I can’t imagine not seeing you every day. You’re always on my mind and you drive me crazy. You’ve driven me crazy since the day you stepped aboard with your stubbornness and quick one liners.”
“Pot calling kettle black.” You sniffed and he chuffed. 
“But you’re courageous, funny, thoughtful. I’ve never met a person as caring as you. Even though that often comes out as suicide missions. I...darlin’ I can’t let anything happen to you.” He cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him. “You mean...you are...I’m not good at this shit. I haven’t done it in a while.” You smiled softly and leaned into his hand. 
“I promise I’ll be more careful.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” He replied.
“You’re not too bad yourself, y’know? Yeah you’re stubborn and sarcastic but you care. You’re an amazing doctor, strong-willed, funny, have excellent taste in liquor. I know it’s pathetic but I hated that we didn’t talk at all yesterday. I missed seeing your handsome face.” He laughed and got a smug grin. 
“Handsome, huh?” You rolled your eyes. “Lemme try this again and I hope this is what you’re trying to say too. I like you, a lot. Honestly I liked you even when I hated you. I want to be with you so you can drive me crazy all the time.”
You swore your breathing stopped but your heart kept beating rapidly. You felt like you might implode or pop your sutures. You couldn’t respond with words, so you did the next best thing.
You threw yourself at him, sutures be damned. You arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your lips against his, His lips were a little chapped and still had the taste of the bourbon he was drinking but he was soon kissing you back with the same intensity. His fingers threaded through your hair as his other hand went to your lower back, sliding a little underneath you crewneck to caress the skin there. Even though you initiated it, you were tense but you soon melted against him.  
“Len...”
“I shoulda said it sooner, before I thought you were dead.” You rested against him, your head against his chest to feel his heartbeat. 
“I...Len I’m so sorry. I just want to do my best.”
“And as long as you do your best to stay alive, that’s all I need.” He replied, his fingers digging into the small of your back. You couldn’t fight back the tears in your eyes anymore and a few dripped down. 
“I love you, Leonard McCoy.” 
Now it was his turn for his breathing to stop. His grip tightened on you and his eyes closed. He’d been wanting to hear that for so long. 
“I feel like I have for a long time, even when I was supposed to hate you. I mean, you’re Jim’s best friend.” He chuckled against you.
“A forbidden fruit?” Somewhere he thought that Christine’s head was probably exploding.
“In a sense.” You smiled. “But I can’t...I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel this way. When I woke up today in medbay all I could think about was you, our nights together, the cave. I promise I’ll be better, I’ll do better to take care of myself. Even if you can’t say it back, I’ll do better because I know what I’ve caused you to feel. What I’ve caused others to feel.”
“I love you too, darlin’. Have for a while.” You smiled and looked up at him, making him lean down and give you another kiss.  He wiped away the tears silently rolling down your cheeks. “I’ll always be there to patch you up, to do my job. But just make it less of a habit.” You nodded and rested your forehead against his. 
“Is it alright if I stay the night?”
“Your sutures-”
“Leonard McCoy! I’m a lady! I simply want to spend time with you and fall asleep in your incredibly comfortable bed.” You gasped mockingly, making him chuckle. “I just need to be with you right now.” He maneuvered you both so you were comfortably on the bed and under the covers, Your head was still on his warm chest and you looked out at the small window he had at the stars. You remembered how in the cave you told him you didn’t see yourself settling down. Well perhaps it was written in the stars that it would actually happen with the man you once detested. 
“So, when are we going to tell Jim?”
“Um...”
(Part 3 of Jim finding out and the ensuing chaos?)
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lotusfartstwice · 3 years
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“You did all of this for me?” Sakura & Lee? 🌸
[from these prompts]
“You did all of this for me?”
--
Rock Lee had all but forgotten about his dojo and his dream of fighting rival fighters.
Pain’s attack had decimated the village and along with it his beloved dojo. Soon after, talk of war came about so rebuilding wasn’t even a blip on his radar. Once that had passed he had considered rebuilding but ultimately all his efforts were a shaky skeleton of a building. He had become quite busy after becoming jonin so he simply had no time to pursue any passion projects. A fact he often lamented to his fellow shinobi when goals were brought up in conversation.
“I think, if I ever got a chance to just work on the dojo again I would make it more appealing.”
“Appealing?” Tenten asked, brow quirked.
“The exterior! I would add a garden or a fountain! Maybe even a koi pond! That would be pleasant, would it not?”
“That is if you ever had the time,” Neji said with a sigh. The two had just returned from a mission so the Hyugga was really feeling the fatigue start to set in.
“No kidding. I’m still looking for a place to set up a weapon’s shop,” Tenten said before patting Lee on the back. “No worries! One of these days we’ll be all set.”
The three rejoined the rest of their friends.
--
Sakura had been busy training medical ninjas but once that had been taken care of she found herself with plenty of free time.
What was a kunoichi to do?
She decided to foster her bonds.
Her and her fellow shinobi had gone through many trials and tribulations together. They now lived in a tentative peace but it was peace nonetheless. She had learned many things from Tsunade but one thing that always stuck out to her was her teacher’s occasional regrets in life. The distance between friends had not done the former hokage any favors.
Sakura found herself having lunch with Ino or Hinata when she could. Then one could find her sparring with Tenten or Kiba. Naruto and Shino were helping in the academy so when she could she would offer advice on reading material they could use (and maybe scam some dango afterwards). Choji and Shikamaru were busy working as representatives to visiting shinobi from other villages. She'd join either or in giving tours around Konoha which always ended in a satisfying meal.
Sai, Neji and Lee were the only ones she didn't have much chance to spend time with one-on-one. The three men were often sent away on missions before they could get a chance to breathe. So oftentimes when she ever had a chance to interact with any of them was when she and the rest of their friends invited them out.
She would take what she could get, sneak in some conversations when she could.
Sakura had just gotten done catching up with Sai when she moved to join Team Gai, only to pause when she heard their conversation.
“I think, if I ever got a chance to just work on the dojo again I would make it more appealing.”
She blinked as memories of spending time in the secluded building as genin sprang forward. Lee had been so proud of it. She was impressed he had finished building it while recovering from injuries. It really had been years.
“That is if you ever had the time,” Neji said with a sigh.
Time?
Well, Sakura had plenty of that to spare at least more so than Lee did.
--
It was a lovely spring day and Rock Lee was happy to have it off.
“Sakura where are you taking me?” Lee couldn’t help but ask as his friend guided him through the village.
“It’s a surprise, Lee!” She stopped for a moment. “We’re getting close so you’re going to have to wear a blindfold.”
“A blindfold?”
Sakura snorted. “Concept of surprise is really eluding you today.”
Lee blushed but complied as he tied the blindfold. He heard the waving of Sakura’s hand in front of his face, for fun’s sake he quickly grabbed her wrist like a snake. “I might not be able to see but my senses are still keen.”
“Yeah, yeah you just wanted an excuse to hold me.”
Lee felt the tips of his ears heat up and he quickly let go of her.
“No good I need to hold your hand, remember?” He could hear the mirth in her tone which just made heat creep up his neck. She was so insufferable in her teasing sometimes.
--
Sakura rolled her eyes whenever Lee was able to name a street or a shop nearby despite a blindfold. He was such a show off.
“I guess they promoted you to jonin for a reason.”
Lee laughed. “Ah yes, my skill of memorizing my village. A very important qualification.” He paused as she led them outside the village and into the woods. “Interesting...what could be out here, I wonder?”
“I’m not gonna keep repeating that it’s a surprise.”
“You just did.”
She squeezed his hand with some force. “So I did.”
“Mm.” He squeezed back with equal force.
--
Something was familiar about this but Lee couldn’t put his finger on it. Wherever they were he had been there before. They had finally stopped and he could practically feel Sakura buzz with excitement.
“We’re here!” she let go of his hand. “Go ahead and take the blindfold off!”
He smiled at the tone of her voice before doing as asked.
“Wha-” the words got stuck in his throat at the sight before him.
He took a few steps forward.
His dojo stood proudly before him. It was still quite simple and no doubt worked off of the bare skeleton he had built beforehand. It didn’t look like a patchwork mess like when he was genin. It looked structurally sound. He peeked his head inside and grinned. There was plenty of space to work.
There was a new addition of flowers outside the building and was that a koi pond? He walked closer to investigate and sure enough. There were two koi fish lazily swimming about in the water. Two lotus flowers floating on the surface made him pause. “This is…”
He took a step back, swallowing hard as his eyes took in the rest.
“Do you like it?”
Lee looked back at Sakura. She was smiling but she looked nervous? What was she nervous about? This was wonderful!
“You did all of this for me?” He managed to whisper, his voice somewhat tight.
Sakura rejoined his side. “Of course!” She then pouted slightly. “Rock Lee, are you saying I’m not capable of doing nice things?”
His eyes widened. “N-no! Of course not!” He felt an uneasy laugh escape him before he looked back at the dojo. “I just...I cannot believe anyone would go through so much effort for me.” He could see Gai-sensei with maybe the reluctant help of his teammates sure but Sakura? Or anyone else for that matter? “This must have taken so long and I had no idea.”
He swallowed again but despite his efforts he couldn’t keep the tears at bay.
“I had some help,” Sakura said. “Naruto and I tried rebuilding everything from scratch but wound up knocking the frame you had up over.” She sighed remembering the failure. “Luckily Captain Yamato was happy to help us.” She moved to hold her friend’s hand. “We told him to keep things simple because that’s your style. He really wanted to make a two-floor dojo.” She giggled at the recollection of his disappointed face when they told him the details.
Lee chuckled, wiping his tears with his free hand.
“Then Choji and Kiba helped me make the pond.” Sakura laughed. “Akamaru was swimming in it a couple times before Shikamaru was able to bring in the koi fish.”
“Then Ino provided the flowers and everyone who could help came and we planted them everywhere.”
Lee imagined all their friends working together, laughing as flowers were arranged.
Sakura let go of his hand and he watched as she entered the building only to reappear with a blank piece of wood. “All that’s left is for you to make the sign.”
He took hold of it. He was sure it was the same size as it was when he was genin. Back then it had seemed so large and imposing. Now his hands were so big as he held it.
“You’re lucky I managed to keep that away from Sai! He was really insistent he make it but we compromised. He got to decorate your walls with some paintings.”
He laughed. “I did not even notice! I will admire them later.” He clutched the blank sign. “I do not know how to thank all of you.”
Sakura smiled. “Well, let us help you make it a proper dojo.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “We’ve got a couple civilians who are interested in learning taijutsu so once you have the time…”
“Absolutely!” He grinned. “I will take anyone in as a student! We will all be splendid together!”
“Excellent.” She gave him the nice guy pose before giggling.
“Sakura.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
“Well, it wasn’t just me-”
Lee shook his head. “I am aware that you had help but you organized it and made it happen.” He set his sign down to wipe freely at his eyes. “I am so very overwhelmed with all of this. It is so wonderful. Thank you.”
“Well, maybe the two of us can take everyone out for a meal.” Sakura suggested. “Does that sound good?”
“That sounds excellent!” He grinned. He couldn’t wait to thank the others.
“Excellent.” He blinked when he felt Sakura lean her head against him. Shyly, he moved to put an arm around her.
“Y’know you never did answer my question: do you like it?”
Lee blinked. “I thought it was obvious.”
Sakura just hummed.
“I love it! I love it all!”
His friend cheered and pumped an arm. “There we go!”
“I think later on I would like to add a tree, close by.” He says after a beat.
“Oh?”
“Yes, I think it would be lovely.”
“What kind of tree? Maple or something?”
Lee blushed, pointedly focusing on anything but her. “I was thinking maybe a sakura tree.”
Sakura blinked before chuckling. “Yeah, maybe a sakura tree would be nice.” She sighed but made no move to untangle from Lee. “The blossoms will be a pain to keep out of the pond.”
Lee shook his head. “Not at all! I will think of it as training! All of it will be worth it.” He finally glanced at her, smiling now. “It will be a place to rest against. It will be lovely, I promise!”
“If you say so.” She poked his side, eliciting a laugh from him. “Ready to work on that sign?”
“Ah! Yes!” The two headed into the building where a brush and paint waited. 
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raendown · 4 years
Link
Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2964 Soulmate au: The one where the first time your soulmate touches your skin it leaves a permanent mark
Follow the link or read it under the cut!
KO-FI and commission info in the header!
Chapter 210
He understood the way Izuna watched him now, a little askance, a little curious. On a bad day Tobirama regretted telling his lifelong rival the secret he’d protected since he first realized it himself. Knowing someone like that carried such intimate knowledge about him was surely a recipe that could only end in violent disaster. On a good day he watched Izuna slowly integrating with a clan he’d once sworn to eradicate and felt hope for the future, hope that all of the people he cared about could live happy and peaceful lives. 
Today was a bad day. Hashirama sent him a pointed look from across the room but Tobirama looked away, not feeling up to pretending that he was surprised Izuna had discovered his soulmate among the Senju. He was the one who told his old rival that she was here, after all. When he was younger he’d assumed that all sensors could feel what he did, the shape of souls and the way two people fit together, but it was only through keeping his mouth shut and listening carefully to the right conversations that he learned he was wrong. No one else seemed to be able to feel which two souls would click together, ignorant until the pair touched each other and the soul marks appeared on both of them. And until the day Izuna demanded one good reason he should allow their clans to make peace no one else had known that Tobirama could. 
Knowing a soul pair before they discovered the bond for themselves was a delicate burden that sometimes required some interesting social gymnastics in order to bring the pair together without letting on that he was doing so. Not, of course, that he did so very often. Tobirama was many things but a rogue cupid matchmaking couples in his downtime was not one of them, not unless the couple’s happiness mattered in some way to him. 
He would never sully his brother’s ‘perfect love story’ by revealing that his meeting with Mito was only made possible by Tobirama’s machinations. 
Telling Izuna his secret had been a necessity he never expected but at least he didn’t regret it every day. He took a bit of comfort from knowing that he’d still made the idiot work for it a little, only telling him that his match was here among the clan he hated so badly but not revealing who exactly she was. Wasn’t the journey supposed to make the destination worth more or something like that? Still, as happy as today was for others Tobirama couldn’t help feeling little more than bitter. 
It was all well and good to feel the shape of souls, to know how they fit together, to reach out in to the world and know without years of searching exactly who would fit his own soul the best. It was another thing entirely to look them in the eye and know that he would likely never have the chance to complete his bond like so many others did. 
Feeling Izuna’s gaze move towards him with the same disapproving weight as Hashirama’s made him turn away and leave the room. He had no desire to know what was running through either of their minds. If he wanted to wallow in his loneliness while the rest of the world moved on with their little white picket fence perfect lives that was his own business. Better to remove himself to the engawa where he could sit in peace without Hashirama hissing in his ear to stop sulking or be happy for others or some other nonsense. At least when he was alone no one bothered him about whatever his face was doing. 
He had only just settled on the edge of the tatami mats outside when he felt a particular chakra signature break away from the rest to head in his direction. Tobirama sighed. Of course a moment’s reprieve was too much to ask. 
Madara rounded the corner with surprisingly quiet steps for a man whose natural gait was stomping, gliding down the engawa as if planning an assassination. Actually Tobirama would not have been very surprised if such an attempt were made. Neither of the Uchiha brothers had ever made secret their disdain for him and his insistence on considering the practical side of every issue that rose during council meetings. With his brother’s annoying voice in his head, however, he erred on the side of caution and held still without making any accusations. Let Madara be the one to announce whatever it was he wanted. There was no reason for Tobirama to make anything easier for the man who had made his own life so difficult. 
“Not even going to look at me?” 
Ah. Of course he had managed to do something wrong before the conversation even began. 
“I was hoping for a few moments alone,” Tobirama said. “Did you need something?” 
“Yeah. I’ve got...a question.” 
The uncharacteristic hesitance captured his attention, turning his head to where he could see the outline of Madara’s figure lingering several arm lengths away. “And you’re not screaming it in my face? Now that’s a novelty. Go on then.”
“Izuna told me what you told him.”
“Oh.” Facing forward again, Tobirama did what he could to swallow the terror riding up in his chest. “What precisely did he tell you?” 
“That you can tell who someone’s soulmate is, something to do with your sensing. He says you were the one who told him that his was in the Senju clan. I didn’t really believe him - he wasn’t even sure if he believed you - but now that we know it’s true…”
Choking on all the secrets inside his chest, Tobirama struggled to keep his face clear. 
“I think I can guess your question,” he said quietly. 
“What do you want in return?” Even without looking he could see Madara drawing himself up. “I won’t beg. But...I am willing to offer whatever price you ask…”
Tobirama shook his head. “You don’t want that.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, I do know who your soulmate is. Yes, they are here in the village. And to answer the question you’re trying to ask, no. I will not tell you who they are.” 
“Why the hell not!?” Madara’s presence took one menacing step closer, the fire of his chakra spiking. 
Tobirama tried not to be too obvious about basking in the warmth of something he knew was not truly being offered to him, the same hopeless wanting he’d been fighting back since childhood. Should it not have become easier by now? 
He supposed the difference was in the distance. For years their clans had been at war and it had been so easy to blame the impossibility of his situation on the endless rivers of blood between them. Now they were at peace. Now there was nothing for him to hide his pointless feelings behind but the ceaseless hatred the entirety of the Uchiha clan held for him as though his crimes of war had been any worse than their own. 
“You do not want to know,” he answered finally.
“Like hell I don’t!” Madara’s voice sounded affronted, something he really couldn’t blame the man for even if he was trying to protect them both. “You don’t get to make this decision for me!” 
Tobirama took a deep breath and focused his gaze out over the garden, splashed with gold in the setting sun. “I don’t mean to be difficult. This is an honest request; don’t ask this of me. When I say you don’t wish to know I mean it. Knowing will not bring you happiness.”
“It’s my soulmate! That’s- that’s the whole point!” 
As much as he wanted to argue that, he couldn’t. Not without explaining himself. By the rage he could feel building in Madara’s chakra, the deep-set yearning so many held for the ideal of a perfect soulmate, it was beginning to look like he might not have a choice in that. The man behind him was among the most stubborn Tobirama had ever met. He was not the type to simply let this go without a proper explanation no matter how someone tried to tell him it was in his best interest not to know. The look in Madara’s eyes said he was not leaving without an answer. 
Tobirama traced the shape of a lily with his eyes and did what he could to brace himself for the fallout about to come down on his own head. 
“Give me your word that you will take this knowledge and leave,” he said. “I have no desire to hear your inevitably negative reaction.” 
“Fine, whatever. I just...need to know. I don’t care if it’s someone I don’t like, it’s the not knowing that drives me mad.”
“Indeed.” That, at least, was something Tobirama could relate to. 
Still, despite having extracted such a promise it took a few minutes to work up the courage he needed. The truth did not scare him. It was something he had known for many years and made his peace with long ago. No, what gave him pause was the future ahead of them in which he would spend the rest of his life watching Madara pretending that they did not share this knowledge, pretending it wasn’t true. 
“I am your soulmate,” he whispered finally, closing his eyes against the spike of shocked chakra from behind him and speaking quickly to head off whatever outburst was about to wash over them both. “Spare me your rejections and denials. You gave me your word. I told you that you would not wish to know; if the answers don’t please you then you have only fate to blame.”
He waited, chest tight around a heavy heart, and yet the presence behind him refused to move so much as an inch. A breeze lifted the edges of his clothing but somehow the air around him felt still and stifling, the very thought of drawing another breath making his chest clench painfully. Tobirama squeezed his eyes tighter and waited even as the dread wriggled in that this moment of terror might stretch out in to forever with no answer. When finally Madara shifted behind him he winced, almost expecting the man to lash out somehow in denial. 
“You? All this time...you?” By some miracle, despite the shock clear in his voice, he did not turn to immediately storm off . “How long have you known that you’re- that you and I- you know?”
“I’ve known since I was a child,” Tobirama answered with as little inflection as possible. 
“Seriously? All these years you knew exactly who your soulmate was and you never even said anything!?” 
The deep breath he pulled in felt almost as though it tore his lungs on the way through. “We were on opposite sides of a war. Pointing out that the fates seem to have gotten their wires crossed was all but useless then.”
“We have been at peace for almost a year!”
“And what would you have done with this knowledge if I had told you at any other point before now? Nothing different.” Shaking his head, Tobirama finally opened his eyes to glare out at the flora around him. “You would have been just as disappointed, probably even more angry. What would have been the point in stripping away any hope you had left for a happy match?”
Madara’s hand on his shoulder startled him so badly he surged to his feet, fumbling a couple steps away from the engawa before turning around to see the other man blinking after him in surprise. The expression didn’t last long. It cleared quickly to make way for something like determination to take its place as Madara hopped down from the porch as well and stomped his way over until he could take a fistful of Tobirama’s clothing at the shoulder. 
“Quit putting all the responsibility for this on me!” he snarled. 
“What?”
“You’ve decided everything about this match without ever asking the other half of it! First you decide it’s somehow not worth even telling me and now when you finally do you’ve just decided on my behalf that there’s no point in doing anything about it. I’m noticing a distinct lack of any agency here! So far you’ve rather neatly avoided saying what you want.” Madara lifted one eyebrow challengingly, an expression that had led to more than one screaming match between them since neither was the type to back down from anything, but for once Tobirama couldn’t find it in himself to get riled up.
He was too busy listening to the silent wordless panic inside his head, the urge to flee before this could go any farther. When he gave in to the idea of revealing his biggest secret he hadn’t expected to be dragged in to conversation about what he wanted out of this. 
“I…” Despite the many thoughts chasing each other through his mind Tobirama found that none of them would settle enough to become actual words, leaving him staring at the other man helplessly.
“Oh. You...you want this...don’t you?” Madara stared back with wide eyes as Tobirama spluttered senselessly.
Unfortunately words were still avoiding him, any kind that would make sense or help him gracefully exit this conversation, anyway. He fumbled his way through a few garbled half sentences before snapping his jaw shut and closing his eyes again to take a deep breath. When he opened them again he was almost surprised that such a perfect opportunity to punch him in the face hadn’t been taken. 
“Let go of my shirt, please,” he said quietly. 
“No!” 
“Madara, would you just-”
“You don’t get to make decisions for me anymore! If I want to stand here and hold on to your shirt I will! And if maybe I want to rethink my opinions of you I’m gonna! And if I want to slap you in the face I might do that too!” 
Tobirama frowned. “What the hell would slapping me accomplish?” 
“It’d get my mark on you for starters!”
 With that Madara finally released his fistful of cloth only to shove it aside and press his hand against the front of Tobirama’s shoulder. Both of them froze. Pulling it away revealed a handprint in brilliant red, the same shade coloring the entirety of Madara’s palm when he turned it over to look. It wasn’t as though Tobirama had been expecting anything else, he’d known they were soulmates almost since they first met, but it was somehow different to stare down at the physical evidence of a connection he had lived with alone for so many years.
The last thing he expected was for Madara to calmly lower his hand and lift his chin with something like determination in his eyes. No anger, no disappointment. If not for the clench of his fist he might have been entirely calm. 
“Maybe it wouldn’t be entirely terrible to get to know you a little better,” he said. 
“A glowing offer if I’ve ever been given one.” Still tense and waiting for an explosion that wasn’t coming, Tobirama sighed at his own instinctual snark. “Sorry. I, ah, don’t have any objections to learning more about each other I suppose.”
His soulmate eyed him thoughtfully for a painful few moments. “I think you probably already know plenty about me. Looks like I’ll have to catch up. We should probably go back inside, though.”
“No one is looking for us, if that was your worry. Izuna’s chakra is entirely too wrapped around his partner’s for me to feel very comfortable being within visual range of them.” Tobirama shuddered. He’d watched Izuna’s soulmate grow up, a distant cousin of some relation several times removed, there was no need for him to see her be intimate with anyone let alone his lifetime rival. 
“Right. Uh. Maybe we just start talking now? I mean like having a conversation. Shut up, I know we’re already having one! I mean I could- oh forget it!” Throwing his hands up, Madara took a step back that seemed more an excuse to stomp his foot than anything else. 
“I would like that,” Tobirama agreed quietly.
Choosing not to let his own emotions overwhelm him turned out to be the right decision, immediately rewarded when Madara calmed down enough to nod with flushed cheeks, looking around for a place to sit. Tobirama let the other man get settled in before delicately lowering himself back in to the spot where he’d been moping before. To his credit, despite the incredibly awkward set of every line in his body Madara did not allow any chance for an awkward silence to fall over them. As soon as they were both seated he struck up a rambling narrative about how little they actually knew of each other and how perhaps he should learn more about someone before making judgments about them, all of which Tobirama listened to with the faintest shadow of a smile spreading across his lips.
It wasn’t exactly a confession, it wasn’t some grand love story about two idiots pining away for each other in secret, misunderstood and misinformed, but it was enough. It was a start. 
Watching his soulmate awkwardly trace shapes in the air as he spoke, Tobirama lifted one hand to discreetly press against the front of his shoulder where he had finally been granted the honor of carrying their bond mark. For now this was more than enough. For years he had kept his silence thinking that nothing would ever happen. If all it took was a little patience to encourage their bond to grow he was willing to give that - and so much more - to see where it would take them. 
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peebleswrites · 4 years
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Into Your Present, a Naruto Fan Fiction
A/N: So remember when I said I was considering writing another Warring States Era SakuraCentric story? Well, here it is!
Summary: What began as nightmare sort of turned into something of a dream come true. That is…until they started bickering over her like petulant children. Now Sakura just wants to go back home. 
Word Count: 1,277
Genre(s): Comedy, Romance, Drama
It was sudden. Really sudden. Sakura couldn’t have imagined that one night she would go to bed, stressed over hospital duties and failed missions only to wake up in the distant past. Like, distant distant past. Like Warring States past. Like Senju versus Uchiha past. Like—yeah, you get the picture.
Konoha was on the verge of being founded. The Senju and Uchiha were at peace. Hashirama and Madara were the best of friends and she was caught in the middle of everything. Because really, how could they possibly ignore a temperamental pink haired woman who randomly appeared in the forest one brisk sunny morning.
They couldn’t and they definitely didn’t.
“What a strange hair color…” Hashirama first discovered her followed by his nosy tag along of a brother who warned him against aligning himself with a wary woman of questionable character. An assumption that earned him a soft glare from her and a dismissive wave from his brother.
One thing led to another and before Sakura could properly protest, she’d been ushered into the folds of the Senju compound and shown around the area like she was some kind of refugee in need of coddling.
…well, that isn’t totally untrue—.
Then Madara entered the picture, as pleasant as she’d never seen him, and Sakura turned white as a sheet. Hashirama laughingly attested it to the fact that Madara just has a face that even a mother has a hard time tolerating only to deflate once Madara roasted him with flames hotter than a katon. And Sakura promptly found the color returning to her face a lot sooner than she expected.
Because despite being far from home, this still felt like home.
Then Izuna met her gaze and it seemed like hell was trying to break loose because what exactly was this guy’s issue with her. Was she public enemy number one to little brother’s everywhere? It seemed like both Tobirama and Izuna had it out for her merely for existing. It didn’t matter what either of their siblings said, she simply couldn’t be trusted.
Especially after he got cross with her one day and she threw a punch which he made the mistake of catching. And they certainly didn’t get to know each other as she spent the next hour or so mending the broken bones in his hand. An arrangement he only agreed to after he was threatened with the prospect of never being about to perform jutsus the same ever again.
She’d never seen a grown man hold a pout so strongly for so long. Naruto was a close second.
As fate would have it, the younger brother duo was about the only real issue she had. Well, aside from the obvious elephant of being trapped in the past with no real way of getting back home. Even still, life wasn’t so bad. Being present for the union of the two clans, the birth of Konoha and the literal construction of the village was kind of…refreshing, in a way.
Even more so since that pesky black Zetsu had been taken care of upon her arrival. Really, she had nothing to worry about!
Except for the plethora of young, single, thirsty bachelor’s all vying for her attention like she was a piece of choice meat up for auction. Sure, she’d been hit on a couple of times back home, but it was never this intense. It was like Rock Lee times a hundred.
“The women here marry quite young. It’s rare to find one who either isn’t already married or promised in marriage.” Hashirama explained it quite simply one day after inviting himself into her home one day. Well…not one day. He comes over like almost every other day. At first his reasoning was surrounded by escaping his duties. Then he claimed to be running from Tobirama. Then Madara. Then he explained her home just had a certain appeal to it.
She’s not really sure where the lie is but it’s there somewhere.
“I see…” It made sense to marry young. After all, the life expectancy of a shinobi in this era wasn’t very long. If you wanted your clan to have and maintain longevity, your sons almost always had to be married off to any available female from a non-rival clan. But that did not mean she was up for grabs in any way shape or form!
“You want to rid yourself of the vermin? It’s simple,” Madara also frequented her home, much to Hashirama’s initial chagrin. This was his safe haven! He didn’t want to share!
“Find yourself a mate.”
“A what?!” Sakura was quick to object with hands that slammed on the table, causing splinters to fly up and cracks to form upon the top surface. Great. Another piece of furniture she has to replace.
“It’s not his worst idea.” Tobirama would soon chime in from his spot by her kitchen window. Out of everyone, he was of course the most adamant about not participating in these daily hang outs.
“Or you could just allow them an opportunity to get to know you. They’ll come to their senses eventually.” On the contrary, Izuna loved showing up. He took many offered opportunities to make her life as hellish as possible. Though not without suffering the occasional blow to the head from a fed up Madara who really just wanted to have a place where he could spend time and relax without stressing over things.
It was rare that ever happened.
“Or! You could merely pretend to have a mate!”
“Pretend?” She wasn't really sure what Hashirama meant by pretend but the idea seemed far better than actually dating someone who could very well end up being one of her friend’s great-grandfather’s.
Wait a minute—.
“From your reluctance to entertain any of these men, it’s obvious you have no interest in them. Pretending gives you the luxury of being alone while also ridding yourself of unwanted attention.”
Genius. Utterly. Genius. Well, sort of.
“…who the hell are you?” Madara was quick to question Hashirama because unlike most of his schemes, this actually made sense. So, obviously the long-haired bozo had to be some kind of impostor!
“It is one of his better ideas.” Even Tobirama was a bit surprised, chiming in just loud of enough for Sakura to hear amidst the argument currently taking place between the two best friends.
“Hn. But who would do such a thing? That is, pretend to be her mate? Sounds like a fool’s errand.”
“One nice thing, Izuna. Just say one nice thing about me.”
“You’d need to have redeeming qualities to start with, Sakur—Ouch! Nii-san!”
“I’d say her most redeeming quality is the ability to completely shatter your hand from the inside.” She could practically hear the smirk on Tobirama’s lips.
“Che!”
“Was that a compliment…?” Sakura ventured a bit closer Hashirama, whispering her question to which the first replied with a comical shrug.
“I never know with him.” Questions that need answers.
“Back to the matter at hand.” And Sakura had to turn her attention back to Madara because he was kind of surprising her with how much interest he’d developed in the current topic. Could it be…? Was he…?
“I believe there is only one suitable candidate to take on the role of Sakura’s pretend mate.” He said it so clearly, with such conviction, that Sakura feared what his answer would be.
“And who is that?”
“Myself, of course.”
“EH?!”
To be continued...
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gwydionae · 3 years
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(Keep My) Back to You
A/N: Gosh dang it, I am determined to finish this thing if it kills me, which this chapter almost did. It’s over twice as long as the last two! Action scenes gotta make everything difficult. But yeah, more action, canon divergence, and Sakura in this one, but still a healthy dose of Naruto and Sasuke friendship stuff.
Posted on fanfiction.net >here<. Chapter 1 on tumblr >here<. Chapter 2 on tumblr >here<.
Teaser: Naruto just wants a friend. Sasuke will never allow himself to have one. But heavy burdens carried by small backs feel lighter when the load is shared with others.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Canon divergence. Rated T for mild language and violence.
Chapter 3: Teammates
"Damn it..."
Naruto's muttered curse hung in the small, dark room as he slowly pushed himself up from the floor, eyes straying back to the figure lying in the corner for what must have been the hundredth time that night. The stark white bandages covering nearly every inch of the body glowed in the dim moonlight, contrasting sharply with dark hair and clothes. After seconds that felt like ages, soft, rhythmic sounds and near imperceptible movement told his heart what his head already knew; Sasuke was still breathing. He was fine. He was alive.
Slipping out of his bedroll, Naruto silently stood and tiptoed his way past his sleeping teammates and out of the shared room. He didn't stop until he'd left the stifling closeness of Inari's house behind, allowing the salty air of the Land of Waves to fill his lungs as he slumped onto the dock, dangling his feet above the calm water.
The day's events had left him exhausted and drained, but every time he closed his eyes he could feel the cold of the ice surrounding him, smell the sweat and blood in the air, see the limp body in his arms. He'd never known joy like when he heard Sakura cry out to him, proclaiming Sasuke's return from the dead, but it hadn't made the experience of witnessing someone he cared about die in front of him any less traumatic. But then, it hadn't just been the sudden death of a teammate that had scared him, either. He clutched at his stomach, unable to keep his hand from shaking.
"Stupid fox..."
Ever since learning of the demon housed inside of him, Naruto had done his best to push all thoughts of it aside. It had often been difficult, the insults following him through the village suddenly taking on a whole new meaning, but he himself had never felt any indication that some great, evil entity had been living in his abdomen his entire life. But that day on that bridge, there was no denying its existence. The anger, the pure rage that flowed through him had been heinous and intoxicating, providing him with the destructive power to bring pain and death indiscriminately. And he had accepted it gladly.
There was some comfort in knowing that the Nine Tails hadn't wrestled away full control. He had, after all, retained enough willpower to stop himself as the masked boy's identity was at last revealed, returning him to his senses. But what if the mask had never been broken? What if he had continued to pour his unbridled hatred into a faceless opponent until it wasn't Kakashi's arm impaling the other boy's - Haku's - chest, but Naruto's?
The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine. He had always known, of course, that shinobi, at their core, were trained killers. The arsenal of weapons and techniques at his disposal were there so he could complete any mission, using deadly means if necessary. He should have been prepared for it, the possibility that a life would be taken with his own still-young hands. But upon witnessing such bloodshed in just one day, whether innocent or criminal, he felt his stomach churn at the thought, the idea of the monster living inside of him someday taking away his agency and restraint physically repulsive.
Naruto gulped down several deep breaths. He would have to learn to control it, overpower it. He couldn't allow himself to be so eager to use the fox's power when presented to him, and with more dangerous missions sure to be in his future, the opportunities to do so would surely rise.
Sasuke's cold and lifeless body flashed in his arms. Sakura's tear-stained face. Kakashi's bleeding chest.
"Damn it!"
None of that would have even happened if he hadn't been so weak in the first place. He wouldn't have been caught in an obvious trap, wouldn't have passed out or known the temptations that came with unbridled fury. Wouldn't have watched Sasuke die.
"He's not dead! He's fine!"
But even that wasn't entirely true. "Fine" was a relative term, but most weren't likely to consider having dozens of unnatural holes in their body a state to be thought of as "fine".
The hours following their ordeal on the bridge had been horrifying in their own way. Sasuke could barely stand let alone walk back to Inari's house for proper treatment, and while Naruto's offered shoulder for support may have kept him from collapsing, it was obvious that any pressure put on a needle caused him further pain. And there had been far more needles than it was possible to avoid.
Sasuke's legs were tended to first. He stood, one hand gripping a table while Naruto had hold of the other, a kunai handle wrapped in cloth clenched between his teeth as Kakashi carefully extracted the senbon one by one. Body shaking at the pain and effort to stay upright, Sasuke had grasped his hand so tight his knuckles turned white, muffled grunts of pain only occasionally sneaking past his normally stoic facade. Sakura had been shivering as well, uttering reassurances to both Sasuke and herself as she tried to focus on her task of applying the first aid to the newly opened wounds. It had taken every ounce of effort for Sasuke to not crumple to the floor the second they were done, still shaking as Naruto helped lower him. And that was only his legs.
His shirt had been removed in pieces, allowing for less pull on the senbon and access to the wounds in full. The sight of his small, bare chest, back, neck and arms covered in large needles with thin trails of dried blood leaking from each caused Naruto's breath to hitch in his throat, and Sakura had kept furiously wiping her eyes to keep them dry so she could concentrate properly. The pile of bloody senbon kept growing, achingly slowly but disturbingly large. Sasuke's breath grew more ragged with each extraction, Naruto's hand going numb in his grasp. When Kakashi had finally reached his neck, the kunai had needed to be removed from his mouth as violent coughing fits had begun to dye the fabric red. There was no hiding the agonized gasps and moans after that.
Mere minutes after the last of the bandages had been applied, Sasuke had passed out and was carried to their sleeping quarters by Kakashi. Naruto would never have thought it possible for him to look so young and fragile. Sakura had sat there in a bit of a trance, her gaze remaining on the doorway the rest of their team had left through. A moment passed before she had rather mechanically begun cleaning up the mess, but Inari's mother had stopped her, told her to rest. She would handle it. Said it was the least she could do.
If anyone had noticed that Naruto had managed to come out of the battle completely unscathed despite the many holes in his jacket, they kept it to themselves.
Raising his arm, he pulled back the sleeve to examine his skin. It was clear, unblemished as if he hadn't been in a fight for his very life less than twenty-four hours ago. No puncture wounds, no scratches, not even a bruise marred its surface. A far cry from the state he should have been in. A far cry from the state Sasuke was currently in. He supposed this was another gift of the Nine Tails, another reason to be tempted to unleash its power.
What if they did notice? What if they asked? What if Sasuke asked? Sakura and Kakashi had been distracted by their own life or death matters, but Sasuke, he was there. He had seen him fall unconscious. He had stood in front of his battered and worn out body and taken a blow meant for him because he had been too weak to protect himself. Of all people, Sasuke deserved the truth; he had more than earned that much. But...
"...damn it..."
He was scared. He could take down mob goons, use himself as bait in a deadly trap, and stand up to cold-blooded killers, but the thought of Sasuke, the rival he'd worked so hard to keep a connection with for five years, rejecting him, shunning him, calling him a monster?
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
The sudden creak of a footstep signaled that someone was approaching, having managed to sneak up on him while he stewed in his worries. But before he could turn around, Naruto felt a lithe but athletic form slowly lowering, seating itself behind him, and resting its back gingerly against his own with a stifled grunt. In an instant it was as if he was transported to a very different dock, one that lived in his memories as both peaceful companion and stinging rejection.
Which would this be?
"You should be sleeping."
"I slept all day." Sasuke's voice was quiet and raw, but the tone was matter-of-fact, as it usually was.
"Someone bandaged up like a mummy should sleep all day."
Expecting a bit more than the typical non-committal "hn" he received in response, Naruto waited for Sasuke to continue, explain what exactly he was doing there, but seconds turned into minutes with only the sound of light waves to break the silence. He supposed that Sasuke had always preferred peace and quiet, but it wasn't as if he hadn't been getting that back in their room. And coming to sit with Naruto almost assured he wouldn't get it for long.
"...how're you feeling?"
"Fine."
It was Naruto's turn to answer with his own wordless response - an incredulous snort - as he pulled a knee up to his chest and leaned against it, frowning as he stared at the water below. He felt Sasuke shift behind him as well.
"You said so yourself. I'm fine. I'm not dead."
Naruto tensed, unable to stop it despite knowing that Sasuke would likely feel it as well. Inwardly he berated himself on his lack of ability to just simply be quiet thanks to years of conditioning his voice to be as loud and obnoxious as possible. He always seemed to catch someone's attention when he didn't want it. He only hoped he hadn't said anything else out loud that he preferred not be overheard.
"Yeah, well, you coulda been."
"But I'm not."
It was hard to pinpoint what was more infuriating, the words Sasuke was saying or the fact that he was saying them so casually through a raspy, sore throat that had been coughing up blood mere hours ago.
Even so, he couldn't deny the fact that having him there with him, feeling the warmth from his very much alive body, hearing his damaged voice, was doing far more to calm his nerves than sitting and moping alone had done. Naruto didn't exactly have a lot of experience with accepting support from others as it so rarely had been offered, but the comfort another physical human being radiated was greater than he'd ever imagined it'd be.
...was - was that why Sasuke was there?
No, no, no. That was definitely not the reason. But then... maybe? It wasn't impossible, was it? Well, it sure seemed impossible, from Sasuke of all people. But, maybe because it was Sasuke, of all people...
The two weren't friends. They didn't hang out or play together like other kids. Heck, they didn't even train together until they were forced to. And their conversations weren't exactly what others would call cordial, if you could even label their antagonizing as "conversations" in the first place.
But beneath the goading was a strange mutual respect. Over the years an unspoken agreement had seemed to form between them, ever since that day on the dock. Naruto would draw others' attention away from Sasuke, and Sasuke in turn was one of the very few to never bully him. In fact, there had been more than one occasion during which Naruto had suspected Sasuke may have had a hand in decreasing his daily abuse, though he never had been able to prove it.
And after becoming teammates, it felt as if something had changed. Maybe it was due to the fact that they were suddenly forced to actively work together, but Sasuke had seemed... less distant. He was still a brooding loner, of course, but Naruto had noticed him doing things such as offering a hand to pull him to his feet, agreeing to eat lunch with the team, and even once or twice diverting the attention of clients a bit less than thrilled to see a "monster" fulfilling their request onto himself.
Even without any of that, what other possible reason could Sasuke have to drag himself outside and sit purposefully near him only to ignore any attempt at conversation? Because as all of this churned within Naruto's brain, his lone companion sat quietly, seemingly content to simply share a space. If he was about to give him the third degree about what had happened on that bridge, as Naruto had thought he might, he was sure taking his good, sweet time bringing it up.
The longer they sat, the more Naruto felt himself relaxing, the foreign acceptance of comfort turning natural. And the more natural it became, the more he knew how painful it would be if he ever had to give it up.
Naruto looked back down at his unblemished arm. Sasuke was here. He was alive. But it had been due to the compassion of their opponent and nothing else. If he wanted this feeling of comfort to go beyond this singular moment, he couldn't afford to sit idly on a dock cursing the failings of his past.
Nor could he be afraid to use every advantage at his disposal, no matter how volatile.
His fingers curled, clenching into a tight fist.
"I'm gonna get stronger."
There was a shift of movement behind him as his words filled the night air with his resolve, but Sasuke remained silent, listening. Naruto sat straight and looked into the star-filled sky, determination etched into his face.
"I'm gonna train every day until I pass out. I'm gonna keep getting stronger and stronger and stronger so I don't need you to protect me anymore. And even then I'm not gonna stop. Because I swear I'm gonna keep you and Sakura-chan and Kakashi-sensei and all of Konoha safe. I will be the Hokage, and the Hokage has to be strong enough to protect everyone. No matter what."
Lowering his gaze, his voice became thick and heavy as he forced out one final promise.
"I won't just watch you die again."
The stillness of the night gathered around them once again as Naruto's words hung in the air. He had not so long ago made a very similar vow after freezing up at the start of their journey. That one, however, had been sworn out of shame of his own cowardice, watching Sasuke and Sakura risking their lives while he stood by and watched. This one, this one was made with full understanding of what his weakness could lead to and the people that would pay the price for it. The first had been selfish, an inward desire to prove himself, but this new promise was sown for the sake of others, out loud, a witness present to hold him accountable.
His witness slowly got to his feet and, keeping his back to Naruto, broke the silence.
"Catch up to me before thinking about becoming the Hokage."
It wasn't an insult.
It was a challenge.
Naruto grinned.
"Watch me."
Hopping to his feet, he trotted over to where Sasuke had begun slowly limping his way back to Inari's house, pleased to find that his injured teammate didn't protest when he offered himself up as support.
"How'd you even make it out here all by yourself? You can barely walk!" Naruto feigned an exasperated sigh. "You're lucky I'm here to help you get back. You might've fallen straight into the ocean!"
Sasuke did not seem quite so ready to be teased for his predicament.
"You're lucky I don't shove those senbon into you until I figure out why you don't have a scratch on you."
Their walking jolted to a stop as Naruto's fears from earlier suddenly reared to life. He had noticed. Of course he had. There's no way he wouldn't have. There really was no simple way of explaining the mysterious disappearance of over a dozen small holes in his body in a matter of hours, possibly minutes if Sasuke had realized it before they'd even left the unfinished bridge.
But he couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet.
"...can you wait for the answer?"
The question was quiet but firm, and Naruto glanced over to look Sasuke in the eye, refusing to flinch and give away how much weight his response would hold. He returned the gaze, dark eyes searching for something hidden behind the blue, but after only a brief pause, he closed them with a light sigh.
"As long as it doesn't hurt the team, I won't ask."
The tension again eased out of Naruto's shoulders, a smile returning to his face as they resumed their walk back.
"Thanks."
"Hn. Usuratonkachi."
"Jerk."
The decision was made. He would learn to control the Nine Tails, both for his team's sake and his own. Perhaps he would even ask Kakashi about it in the morning. He had never liked secrets, and the sooner he was comfortable sharing one as massive as this the better. Of course, he doubted he would ever truly feel ready for that conversation, but if he had to have it, then the least he could do was make sure he was able to say with confidence that he was, in fact, not a dangerous monster. ____________________________________ 
"Damn it..."
Sasuke absently reached up to rub at the mark on his neck as he headed back toward the stream he and Naruto had caught fish in earlier. Four days - four days they'd been stuck in this giant, monster-ridden forest, and they hadn't so much as attempted to take a scroll from another team. The attack by that Orochimaru had come before they'd had a chance to strategize, leaving them unconscious and open to an ambush by the Sound which in turn left them so injured they needed several days to recuperate. The exam would be over in less then twenty-six hours, and they didn't even have a solid plan.
His fingers massaged his neck as he pulled out the water bottle in order to refill it. He had gotten better at hiding it, but even now a constant, dull pain emanated from the place he'd been bitten. On several occasions he'd caught Sakura staring at him, a look of worry and guilt on her face before forcing a stiff smile. He couldn't stand that look. It made him feel weak, reminded him of how helpless he'd been when faced with a truly deadly opponent. Naruto, however, remained oblivious to the true nature of his injury, Sakura keeping his secret for now. He was grateful for that. The last thing they needed was for all three of them to be distracted with something they couldn't do anything about. The best he could do was to remain alert at all times, ready to deal with any threat as quickly and efficiently as possible.
A serpentine eye peering out from behind a half melted face flashed before his eyes, Sakura petrified, tears streaming down her cheeks, Naruto hanging unconscious.
"...damn it."
Sasuke plunged the water bottle into the stream in frustration. He had to focus. Keeping himself and his teammates safe had to be the priority. He would need them to pass the exam, of course, but more importantly, passing would in turn give them an added layer of protection. A return to D rank missions filled with gardening and babysitting would only lead to impatience, and the more impatient he became, the more enticing the dangerous burst of power from the mark on his neck would seem. The more enticing a new set of eyes would seem.
He had sworn to defeat Itachi without becoming him. He could not allow failure during some survival test to tempt him into doing otherwise.
Clearing his mind of unsettling thoughts, he concentrated on his surroundings, reaching out with his senses for the smallest sign of a threat. He needed to keep his guard up, especially while on his own, and no sooner had he regained his focus than his muscles tensed in anticipation. There was a well-hidden, unknown chakra not far behind him, announcing a presence he'd been too distracted to notice sooner.
Sloppy, careless.
Turning with lightning speed, Sasuke flung the now full bottle in the direction of his silent observer, quickly reaching for more deadly weapons as a follow up. However it wasn't the ease at which his assailant dodged the projectile that worried him. It was the position his hands had been in before Sasuke had forced him to move. His pointer fingers and thumbs had been touching, leaving a triangular hole that he'd been watching Sasuke through with narrowed, hazel eyes.
The Mind Transfer technique, a staple of the Yamanaka clan. He'd seen Ino use it at the academy. But he didn't know much apart from the fact that the user could enter a target's mind, and this wasn't Ino. Had he reacted a second later, his body would already be in another's control, set to easily secure their Earth scroll for the enemy. Leaving Naruto and Sakura, even for the smallest of moments to clear his thoughts, could have doomed them all.
Sloppy.
Careless.
"Damn it!"
Keeping a close eye on his attacker was essential, unsure of how much time such a technique required to complete. Kunai in hand, Sasuke ran at the other boy - a teenager, slightly older than him, with auburn hair pulled into a ponytail, a tanto being unsheathed from his back - intent on forcing his opponent into close quarters hand-to-hand combat. He only hoped this one couldn't use single-handed seals.
The sound of metal clashing against metal rang out as Sasuke knocked away the incoming blow from the tanto. He quickly sent a fierce kick aimed at the other's head, but it was dodged effortlessly and followed up with a slash to his abdomen with the knife, Sasuke nearly unable to back up in time to avoid the attack. Rushing forward once more to make sure his opponent's hands stayed occupied, the two continued to trade blows, but it didn't take long for Sasuke to realize that while the ninja before him may specialize in intelligence gathering through stealth and cunning, his skill with the tanto was far above that of a normal genin. Each attack, each block, each dodge was made with the accuracy and finesse only rigorous training could provide.
He had always been confident in his taijutsu, but his lack of experience with weapons outside of shuriken or kunai left him at a disadvantage when faced with an expert. Normally his solution would be to create distance, relying on his sure aim and misdirection, but such a tactic would risk freeing up his attacker's hands. The increasing cuts in his shirt and sores on his body from the relentless blows were giving him few other options, however, the latest swipe managing to nick his arm. He ignored the trail of blood, concentrating solely on his opponent's movement in search of an opening.
With a determined parry of a slice aimed at his abdomen, Sasuke pushed enough chakra out from the soles of his feet to propel him swiftly away in a backflip that would have been more graceful had the mark on his neck not sent a stab of pain into his shoulder. Grimacing, he fought to remain focused, hands instantly grabbing for several shuriken from his weapons pouch. With practiced ease, the blades flew through the air, and as predicted, the auburn-haired shinobi dodged the seemingly frontal assault. Sasuke smirked, manipulating the shuriken's path with the attached wire like a skillful puppet master, sending it around a nearby tree with the intent to bind his nimble opponent to it.
A burned face, jaw slack and eyes wide, melted away, turning to mud, leaving merely a scarred tree trunk and loose wire as the same snake-like figure rose from the branch in front of him, baring its fangs, neck elongating as he could only stand there, paralyzed -
A roar of frustration left him as the hesitation from the terrifying memory was just enough to allow his prey to escape his trap, running not at him but toward the surrounding foliage. He was trying to hide, attack from the shadows. Sasuke couldn't allow it.
The Sharingan at last blazed to life in his eyes, his opponent's movements seeming to slow instantly. However no sooner had he reached to grab another kunai then his whole body seized up, sharp pain like lightning shooting out from his neck, tightening his muscles, holding him in place. He could feel the mark burning, the scabbed bite wounds throbbing, but no cry escaped his constricted throat, and his lungs refused to expand. His skin was on fire, every beat of his heart pure torture.
He could smell the putrid breath from the demonic head on the twisting neck, see the saliva hungrily glistening on its sharp teeth -
"A proud Uchiha, paralyzed with fear? Surprising. But it will make my mission that much easier to complete."
His attacker's first words sounded distant, blood pounding in his ears as if demanding to be freed from his fragile body. He gasped for air, silently begging for the pain to stop, for his body to move. But neither did as he wanted. He was frozen in place once again, merely waiting for the final blow, incapable of saving himself, let alone others.
"Sasuke!"
A warm, firm back bumped up against his own, a ringing of struck metal and grunt of annoyance proof that for once, Naruto had arrived just in time. His eyes returned to black, feeling slowly returning to his limbs as air filled his lungs. He leaned into the comforting presence behind him.
"Late as always."
"Hah! Thought maybe you drowned. Shoulda known you'd need me to bail you out!"
Sasuke allowed himself to crumple to the ground as the familiar popping sound of multiple shadow clones appearing from thin air met his ears.
"Sasuke-kun!"
Sakura appeared at his side, looking at him with that same expression full of worry he hated so much. As Naruto left to confront his attacker, she reached out to steady him. He didn't have the strength to push her away.
"Are you alright? I knew it shouldn't have been taking so long! We should have been here sooner! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine."
Her anxious expression told him that she didn't believe his words.
"It's that mark again, isn't it?"
He didn't answer, shamefully realizing that he'd subconsciously been rubbing at his neck since collapsing. There was some relief as her eyebrows furrowed in consternation at his stubbornness. Any look was preferred to her pity.
"Sasu-"
"Where's Naruto?"
Pushing himself back to his feet with Sakura's help, his eyes fell upon multiple Naruto's engaged with the mysterious shinobi, puffs of smoke dissipating into the air as he expertly cut down clone after clone. It was unsurprising that Naruto's taijutsu abilities were no match, having always been a step behind his own, but the sheer amount of shadow clones had at least done the job of buying enough time for backup. The three of them would be sufficient for their single opponent. What worried him was the idea of two more waiting with a well-timed ambush.
"He can use the Yamanaka clan's Mind Transfer technique." Sasuke lightly pushed away from Sakura as he drew some more shuriken, noting the look of recognition on her face. "His teammates were probably waiting to use that to their advantage before showing themselves. We can't be careless when dealing with him."
The confident smile he got in return was not what he had expected.
"That technique has to be precise," she said, arming herself with a kunai. "If he were to miss his target, his body would be at our mercy for over a minute. It's best used on a stationary target, so as long as all three of us can keep moving, he won't be able to use it."
Sasuke knew that he shouldn't have been surprised. She had always been the only one to consistently beat him when it came to written tests, and on top of that she and Ino had at one point been close friends. And yet her weak points, a distinct lack of physical ability and stamina compared to even the other females in their class, always seemed to overshadow her strengths in his mind. Taking in her newly shortened hair and still healing wounds from when she had watched over both him and Naruto, he nodded back at her, resolving to finally stop underestimating the third member of his team.
"Then let's move."
Hiding the lingering discomfort, Sasuke took off at a run, quickly scaling a nearby tree in order to support Naruto's frontal attack from above. He noticed Sakura hesitate for a fraction of a second, glancing his way before dashing off to flank their opponent from the opposite direction, a look of determination on her face. She was trusting him, believing he'd keep it together despite the somewhat alarming state they'd found him in. He could only do the same for her.
The number of clones had dwindled drastically in the time it had taken Sasuke to regain his composure and use of limbs, but five Narutos were still fighting valiantly as his shuriken began raining down. The assault hadn't been entirely unexpected, their foe dodging both the projectiles and Naruto's punches with relative ease. The late addition of a kunai from the direction the ninja had been heading had their foe backflipping out of the way, using chakra to kick off from a large, gnarled tree as he barreled into one of the remaining clones with his tanto. Seeing his opening, Sasuke grabbed a kunai and jumped, managing to repay his attacker for the nick on his arm with a slice of his own as the ninja attempted to roll out of the way.
"Hey, hey, not leaving so soon, are we?"
Naruto struck their opponent with a forceful kick, a sinister grin spreading across his face, but the unknown shinobi retained his calm demeanor. Too late Sasuke recognized a quick series of hand seals, and in a burst of smoke, the enemy ninja's body was replaced by one of Naruto's who blinked up at his original and Sasuke in surprise.
"Over there! He used Substitution!"
Sasuke bolted before Sakura even had a chance to finish her warning, giving chase to the quickly retreating tanto wielder.
"Stay focused! It might be an ambush, but we can't let him out of our sight!"
The fleeing ninja was fast, and the effort to keep up was making his neck throb. He could hear Naruto and his three remaining clones crashing through the forest behind him, Sakura's much quieter pursuit a bit further back. Gritting his teeth, Sasuke's eyes darted around. With all the noise, there was more to worry about than just one potential team of three, and they didn't have the time nor the energy to waste.
A cry from Naruto, however, forced him to halt in his tracks, whirling his head around right as one of the four crashed into a tree and clutched his arm in pain. The blow had come from a topless male figure wearing a strange mask, a tanto strapped to his back. His skin looked as if patches of it had been dyed an unhealthy purple.
"Ahhh! Wh-what is - "
Sasuke watched as terrified horror washed over the struck Naruto's face, the injured hand he held up shaking violently as it too turned purple before starting to bubble, as if it were being boiled from the inside. A vice seemed to tighten around Sasuke's heart until at last, with a loud pop and hiss, the clone disappeared. The screams of pain, however, continued to echo throughout the forest surrounding them.
"Don't let this guy touch you!"
Ripping his attention away from the now unoccupied space, Sasuke looked up to see the three remaining Narutos all frantically dodging the newcomer's punches.
"That purple stuff is, I dunno, poison or something! Don't let it get on you!"
Unlike the auburn-haired shinobi, this one seemed to prefer weaponless fighting, his strikes powerful but lacking the same finesse. The comparison, however, instantly reminded Sasuke of the dangers of standing still for too long, and praying that Naruto was fast and skilled enough to stay out of their new opponent's reach, he again took to the trees, jumping through the branches as he searched for any sign of the ninja they'd been following.
It didn't take long to find him. Below in a small clearing less than fifty yards from where Naruto and the purple-skinned ninja were fighting were not one but two tanto-wielding figures. The attacker with auburn hair was speaking to another slightly younger male with black hair and pale skin who was dipping an enormous paint brush into ink. A half-finished painting of a tiger adorned a large, unfurled scroll in front of him.
" - no more time. If capture is no longer possible, then - "
Sasuke didn't wait to hear their conversation; the element of surprise was too precious a commodity. Drawing more shuriken, he threw several down at the shinobi and another with wire attached toward a branch opposite him, correctly anticipating the one he had fought earlier to skillfully dodge backwards as Sasuke swung from his hidden perch, aiming for that spot. His foot collided with his opponent's jaw, and he quickly followed it up with a series of punches and kicks, forcing the other to block with no time to draw the tanto on his back. Sasuke's attention, however, was divided, with one eye on the third member of the team at all times. The black-haired boy's lack of concern for his teammate, swiftly returning to his painting instead of defending him, was more disconcerting than if he had joined the fray. He either trusted in his comrade's capabilities, or that tiger was a far greater threat than it appeared. Likely both were true.
Sweat covered his body as each jab, each kick seemed to drain him of a lot more energy than usual. His shoulders felt heavy, a stinging pain shooting into his neck, while his opponent deftly absorbed his blows. This wasn't working. His attacks were wearing himself down faster than they were his enemy, and the painting would be finished soon. He needed to be precise, quick, create an opening.
He needed his Sharingan.
His heart pounded at the thought, remembering what had happened mere minutes earlier when he'd attempted to use it. He desperately wanted to believe that the timing had been a fluke, that his most powerful weapon wasn't locked away behind a wall of suffocating paralysis. Behind that cursed mark. But the feeling of his chest and muscles tightening, the inability to even gasp for air was fresh in his mind, and that made him hesitate, and the more he hesitated, the closer the tiger came to completion.
The fourth leg showed the beast ready to pounce.
Punch, punch, kick, punch, block.
His lungs were constricting; he couldn't breathe.
The tail was added with a graceful flourish.
Kick, dodge, counter, punch, punch.
His veins were on fire, the pain utterly debilitating.
The stripes were added one by one, the tail the last area left -
A loud clink pulled his gaze fully away from his current opponent and toward the painting shinobi where the ink pot now lay tipped over, its black contents spilling out and marring the tiger's snarling jaws. A kunai rested near it, and glancing up, he saw Sakura running to engage the painter.
His moment of distraction cost him. A swift kick to his gut sent Sasuke tumbling to the ground, knocking his head against a thick tree trunk.
"Sasuke-kun!"
Blinking the stars out of his eyes, he quickly wobbled to his feet, doing everything in his power to brace himself for another blow. But no blow came. Instead, the auburn-haired ninja was darting away from him, heading toward -
"Keep them busy. I'll make sure the other one can't interrupt."
- toward Naruto.
"Damn it!"
Sasuke immediately made to follow, fearing it would be impossible for Naruto to survive a concentrated assault from both the tanto expert and poison user, but something caught him around the ankle, causing him to fall back to the hard ground. Turning to look, a strange black and white snake was wrapping its way around his leg, and a quick glance showed several more springing from a small scroll in the painter's hands. His paintings were coming to life, and if snakes six feet long were coming from such a small scroll, he was grateful he never had to lay witness to the tiger.
With a growl of impatience, Sasuke grabbed a kunai from his pouch, but before he could use it, another flew from Sakura's hand, hitting its mark and dispelling the snake instantly.
"Go!" She fended off her own snake before landing another hit on one of the three headed in his direction. "I can take care of this - help Naruto!"
He hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding his thanks and racing after the fleeing ninja, kunai still in hand. His limbs ached, begging him to stop and rest, but instead he pushed on harder, faster. He had to make it in time. Naruto's life was at stake, and if the painter was anywhere near the level of his teammates, Sakura would be in danger as well. He had to find a way to end this and soon.
The dead bodies of his parents, his clan spurred him forward. He couldn't lose anyone else.
The auburn-haired ninja had vanished into the forest, but at last, up ahead he saw a flash of orange propelling itself from tree to tree, dodging purple projectiles of some sort and firing kunai back in turn.
"Did you seriously just try to hit me with a frog? Ha! Idiot!"
Naruto's obnoxious voice ringing through the forest for once gave Sasuke a slight sense of relief. There was still time. Just a little farther.
But then it clicked. The purple-skinned ninja's attacks weren't as random as they initially seemed. He was driving Naruto, leading him toward a large tree that had snapped in half, a hollow space in the trunk well hidden amongst its dead branches. A single remaining sturdy limb protruded near the shadowed opening, a brief glint of metal the only indication of the danger lying in wait. Heart pounding, Sasuke watched as his teammate leapt toward the branch, oblivious to the trap about to be sprung.
The nightmarish vision that played in his mind ever since that fateful night five years ago - the blood of loved ones coating the blade that struck them down and spattering like fireworks across the ground - was about to no longer be a memory.
"Naruto!"
He wasn't going to make it. Unless his timing was perfect, more spilled blood would be added to his grisly collection. That couldn't happen. No matter the cost.
Forcing chakra out through the soles of his feet, Sasuke launched into the air, Sharingan burning red in his eyes right as the ambusher raised his weapon to strike. Time seemed to slow as upon reaching the branch, Sasuke barged into Naruto, pushing him out of the blade's path, blocked the tanto with his kunai, and struck their attacker in the chin with his palm, sending him falling toward the ground below.
Sasuke could sense the pain coming as if he were a lightning rod in a storm, managing to land safely on the ground right as his muscles seized up for the second time that day. The hand he had braced against the tree was rigid, his body trembling as his lungs once again refused to expand, black dots forming in front of his vision. It felt as if the only way to end the agonizing torture was to give in to it.
"Sasuke!"
Naruto's voice was the last thing he heard before the pain suddenly dulled. It wasn't a slow easing of suffering like last time, however, and some part of him knew that his body had not yet been released from its paralyzed state. Instead it felt as if he had relinquished control, retreated further into his mind to escape the torment.
But someone else was still feeling it.
A silent scream was vibrating around him, the pitch both earsplittingly shrill and impossibly deep. The one suffering in his place wanted to writhe and claw at his throat, but found his limbs frozen and useless. With a last futile gasp for air, the other voice stilled, and darkness swallowed them both.
A stabbing pain in his neck caused his eyes to fly open once more, his lungs gulping the air around him hungrily. He collapsed to his knees, limbs again having gone numb, allowing the trunk of the tree to keep him from falling prone. Body still shaking, he turned his head just enough to see the auburn-haired shinobi lying face down a few feet away. He appeared to be unconscious.
"Watch out!"
The warning from Naruto could merely act as harbinger of what was sure to be his very painful demise. Sasuke didn't need to look up to know the ninja whose body was somehow poisonous to the touch had decided to focus on the easy, downed target, and as much as he begged and pleaded for his legs to move, move, move, his body had not yet recovered enough to obey.
The mark on his neck burned, extending its foul miasma, hissing of his weakness, promising brutal death to those that would dare attempt to cut his life short.
He needed more strength, more power. He had to survive, to live on to complete his goal, to avenge his clan, his family. Double-edged sword it might be, but the curse on his neck could provide him with what he needed.
...just this once.
He could give in just this -
"Sasuke!!"
The forest was suddenly flooded with chakra, deep and ancient. It wasn't like anything Sasuke had ever felt before, its oppressive nature barely controlled, fighting to run wild. A searing heat seemed to boil the very air, and the weight of it pressed him harder against the tree until suddenly it vanished. Manifesting in its place were dozens if not hundreds of Narutos, circling him, creating a protective barrier between him and the promise of death.
"You aren't laying a finger on him, you bastard!"
Sasuke could only stare in shock as one after another the clones threw themselves upon the ninja with purple skin, sacrificing their existence for a single, solid blow each. But as stunning and incredible as the spectacle was, relief, pride and jealousy all churning within him at the gaudy display of will and stamina, a lingering unease clung to his insides.
He had known Naruto for years, paid far more attention to him than anyone knew or he cared to admit. They'd been assigned to the same team, going on missions and training together for months now. He had witnessed Naruto gathering and using chakra countless times.
The chakra that had saved him wasn't Naruto's.
There was no doubt that it had come from Naruto - the plan to simply outlast his enemy with an army of shadow clones could come from no one else. But Naruto's chakra had always been bright, mischievous, and obstinate. There was almost a warmth to it, like rays from the sun. If asked to visualize it, he'd describe it as a neon yellow, a color generally associated with cheerfulness turned up to an insufferable degree. But this chakra had been red, a dark crimson filled with anger, hatred, and torment. The utter wrongness of such heavy energy bringing so many Narutos to life was unsettling; he didn't want to think of what hidden part of the outwardly hyperactive facade such fearsome chakra had come from.
"What the heck was that? You'd think you wanted the guy to poison you or something!"
The words were meant to come across as their typical casual ribbing, but the worry lacing them drew Sasuke's attention out of his thoughts and onto the figure crouched beside him. Naruto - the original, he assumed - wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his concern, wearing a look very similar to the one Sakura had been directing at him the past two days. Sasuke instantly broke eye contact, anger and shame filling him as his legs still refused to support his weight, gripping his neck so tight his fingernails were digging into his skin.
A warm hand settled on his back.
"Hey, you ok? What happened? Why're you - "
"I'm fine."
The words were an obvious lie. All the defiance in the world couldn't mask the fact that his body was still quivering, heart still pounding, lungs still gasping. Couldn't mask the fact that he was weak.
"Sasuke - "
A yell of frustration put them both back on full alert, the number of Narutos having already severely dwindled as their opponent aggressively fought against the onslaught. The damage he was taking from each clone, however, was beginning to add up. Cuts from kunai covered his arms and chest, and his breathing was labored, sweat dripping down his chin. But still he continued, slowly working his way toward his actual targets.
With a grunt of pain and stiffness, Sasuke at last made it to his feet, Naruto quickly reaching down to help support him. Doing everything in his power to keep his hand from shaking, he reached into his pouch to fish out one of his last remaining shuriken.
"Lead him to this tree."
Naruto passed him a confused look until he glanced down and noticed the wire attached to the weapon in his hand. Understanding brightened his face, and with a confident nod, a group of clones clustered in front of them, blocking the view of their approaching foe. As one of the clones assumed Sasuke's crippled form - a sight that further deepened his shame as he saw firsthand how completely helpless he appeared - the two originals slowly backed away from the tree, slinking into nearby shadows to lie in wait for their opening.
It didn't take long for the purple-skinned ninja to barge his way back into view, eyes locking instantly with the fakes that had been left behind. Sasuke raised his arm, and as their opponent's fist connected with their decoys, used every ounce of energy he had left to send the shuriken flying around the trunk, grimacing in pain as he used the wire to guide it until their enemy was pulled flat against the tree, wrapped in place. Naruto reached out to help steady his shaking hands and pull the line taught until the body jerking to free itself finally stilled.
"I see. You have already defeated my companions."
Both boys' heads whirled around to face the indifferent sounding voice. The painter Sakura had been holding off was sitting on the back of a large black and white bird, sweat mixing with the mud and ink staining his pale skin. What few remained of Naruto's clones took position between them, the newcomer barely seeming to notice as he glanced impassively at his fallen teammates. With a hand, he reached back and pulled both a Heaven and an Earth scroll from his pouch.
"These are what you are after, correct? Do you still need one?"
Sasuke's eyes narrowed while Naruto blinked in surprise.
"Uh, yeah, we - "
"The Heaven scroll."
They watched the other boy pocket his Earth scroll again while he held out the Heaven scroll toward them, neither his countenance nor posture showing any sign of nerves or resentment.
"I will give it to you if you allow our retreat."
"Sai!"
Sasuke kept as tight a hold as he could on the wire as the captive shinobi began to writhe once again, but the painter had already tossed the scroll at their feet.
"You two are in no condition to continue, and I have very little chakra left myself while this one - " he nodded toward Naruto and his clones, " - seems to have more than enough to spare. Their companion will likely be along shortly as well. We have failed in our objective. The belief that an alternative outcome would be acceptable without proper orders is not an assumption I am willing to make."
Without waiting for confirmation of their agreement, the boy apparently named Sai casually walked over to the ninja with the auburn hair and hoisted him onto the back of the giant bird, Sasuke watching him apprehensively the entire way, preparing for the double cross. However once he and his unconscious companion were appropriately situated, the bird began to flap its wings, hovering just low enough to the ground that its claws could reach out and grip around the arms of their remaining teammate.
"Would you mind loosening his bindings? I don't need the entire tree."
"Oh. Uh, sure. I guess."
Naruto let go of the wire, and lacking the strength to continue holding on alone, Sasuke followed suit, allowing it to fall slack around their captive. He braced himself for an assault, but as promised, once freed, the bird took hold of the disgruntled third team member and lifted them all into the air. With a last glance their way, Sai directed the bird upwards, steadily rising until they cleared the tree tops and were out of sight.
The look of confusion that had taken up residence on Naruto's face finally melted away into a cocky grin.
"Heh, yeah, that's right! Beat it, you bastards! I'll let you off easy this time, but if I so much as - "
"Sasuke-kun! Naruto!"
The sound of his missing teammate's voice was enough to finally lift the weight of anxiety that had settled in his stomach ever since he was first ambushed. Adrenaline fading, he felt his knees buckle from exhaustion, nearly taking both him and Naruto to the ground with his dead weight.
"Hey!"
"Sasuke-kun!"
Sakura hovered beside him as Naruto carefully lowered him to the ground. His legs felt like they were made of jelly, and the mark was still sending arcs of pain through his neck and shoulders. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing - inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth - trying to bring his heart rate back under control while desperately trying to block out the worry he'd seen etched into their faces.
"Geez, Sasuke, what's wrong with you today? That's the second time you just kinda went all rigid in the middle of a fight. I can't be expected to save your butt all the time, you know!"
The same hint of concern he'd heard woven into Naruto's previous words was back, loosely hidden under a thin layer of bravado. It crawled through Sasuke's ear and down his spine, reminding him that it was there because he was weak, powerless in the face of a tiny, black mark on his neck. He was subconsciously rubbing it again. Both hands were moved to his lap, fingers curling into tight fists.
"I'm fine."
"Sasuke-kun."
He couldn't help glancing up at Sakura at the quiet call of his name. The worry, the pity was expected, but there was also a determination on her face that caused his eyes to linger as she opened her mouth to continue.
"Secrets shouldn't be kept from your teammates."
His gaze hardened, but Sakura refused to look away.
"Secrets? What secrets?"
Naruto didn't need to know. It would only cause him to worry more, and Sasuke was already getting enough of that from Sakura. He didn't need their concern, and there was no one he wanted pity from less than the person whose back he was begrudgingly starting to associate with comfort and stability.
"Nothing."
"Sasu - !"
"I said it's nothing!"
Sakura snapped her mouth shut as if he'd slapped her. Her eyebrows remained furrowed, but with a defeated sigh she eventually turned away, leaving a pit of guilt in his stomach. The uneasy silence that followed felt like it stretched on for hours, the tension palpable.
Only one hand was still in his lap. He was massaging the mark again.
"As long as it doesn't hurt the team, I won't ask."
Naruto's words hung thick in the air as memories of a quiet, painful night in the Land of Waves washed over Sasuke, where two boys sought comfort in the other's presence under a blanket of stars after a terrifyingly brutal day. The mystery surrounding Naruto's miraculously fast healing had as of yet gone unsolved, but in the months that followed, not once had there been any indication that whatever Naruto was hiding was a threat to those around him. Even today, whatever that sinister chakra was, its appearance had very likely saved his life.
It was a truth he couldn't in good conscience keep denying. Naruto's secrets were his own and no one else's. Sasuke's was a burden that belonged to every member of Team Seven, whether they knew it or not. And the longer it took for them to find out, the heavier and more deadly it would become.
Head bowed, Sasuke took a deep breath as he reached for the cowl of his shirt and tugged it aside, arching his neck so the mark would be plainly visible. Naruto cautiously leaned in, eyes widening as they fell upon the three black tomoe.
"What the heck is that? Where'd it come from? And what - are - are those bite marks?"
Quickly shielding it from view once more, Sasuke studied the rocky ground for fear of closing his eyes and seeing the melting face with sharp fangs behind closed eyelids, bile rising in his throat as the answers pushed their way past his lips.
"Orochimaru, he... did something to me. The mark reacts to my chakra somehow, causing pain whenever I use it. The Sharingan especially. Activating it for even a second causes my muscles to seize up."
"Wait, that creepy snake guy did this? But, why?"
It's a gift. Sasuke-kun will come to me seeking power.
"I don't know. It is powerful - it activated once, gave me strength I'd never had before, but - " His eyes darted towards Sakura. " - but I can't control it, and if I try to use it again, it's possible it could take control of my mind."
Naruto cocked an eyebrow and frowned as he crossed his arms.
"When did that happen? And whaddya mean it could 'take control' of your mind? Is he, I mean, can he, like, make you do stuff or something?"
"It happened while you were unconscious two days ago." Sakura answered the question, her green eyes glancing in Sasuke's direction nervously as she continued. "The mark activated somehow, and Sasuke-kun was... he wasn't acting like himself. But as soon as it stopped, he was back to normal."
Her last words were pushed out quickly but forcefully as if to assure herself that the situation was not as alarming as it sounded. Sasuke hoped that it worked on her. It hadn't worked on him, the pain in his neck having returned to a dull throb, constantly beating out a reminder of the mark's existence.
Looking back and forth between the pair of them, Naruto unfolded his arms, rubbing a hand nervously over his stomach. Sasuke didn't like that the frown remained in place. It didn't suit him.
"So... so if you use any chakra at all... you'll either be suddenly paralyzed or start acting super weird?"
The simple and straightforward summary barely seemed to scratch the surface of everything the cursed mark had done - and would continue to do - to him, but such details were best kept to himself. Sakura had been right; Naruto needed to know how it affected the team, but he didn't need to know the full extent of both the physical and mental torture he'd experienced so far. That burden was his alone to bear.
Sasuke sat up straight, met his gaze, and nodded.
"Yeah."
A silence filled the air between them following his answer, allowing the implications of his predicament to fully sink in. Finally, after a deep breath, Naruto abruptly jumped to his feet with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, roughly smacking Sasuke's back.
"Well, then it's a good thing I've got plenty of chakra for both of us! We've already got the scrolls we need, so all we have to do is head to the tower - easy!"
Holding in a wince, Sasuke swiped away the offending hand as Naruto held up the Heaven scroll for Sakura to see.
"You got their scroll! That's amazing!" Relief shone in her face before quickly being replaced by a light scowl as she bonked Naruto on the head. "But that still doesn't make it easy! You can't just use Sasuke-kun's Sharingan for him, and there might be more people desperate for a scroll waiting in ambush! We'll have to make sure we stay on alert the entire way there. We can't afford to run into anyone else right now."
Her glance in his direction did not go unnoticed. Heat crawled along his skin, disgust and embarrassment for his current burdensome state thankfully overlooked as Naruto continued to predict their assured victory. Their conversation faded into background noise as thoughts of his vulnerability plagued him, mocking and berating his open display of weakness. The battle hadn't even lasted that long and yet he could barely move, unable to overcome the effects of the mark.
He hadn't been strong enough to handle the situation alone. He'd needed others to save him.
His father would be too ashamed to call him his son if he had still been alive to do so.
"Hey, Sasuke?"
Naruto's voice broke through his thoughts, dragging him back to the present where he noticed that the other boy had again sat down next to him while Sakura seemed to be hunting for salvageable weapons. Turning to face the one addressing him, Sasuke found his blue eyes instead locked on Sakura who was pocketing a stray kunai. Naruto seemed strangely subdued after his loud boasting, his mouth pressed into a thin line, hand again clutching at his stomach.
"When this whole exam is over, can - can we talk? There's something I wanna tell you."
A blink was the only outward sign that the request had taken Sasuke by surprise, hiding his curiosity behind years of experience at keeping himself closed off from others. When he spoke, his voice was even and apathetic.
"Does this have anything to do with the strange chakra you used to make a hundred clones today?"
Naruto's body tensed visibly at the question, and at last he tore his gaze away from Sakura to shoot a nervous grin his direction, anxiously scratching the back of his head.
"Guess that was pretty obvious, huh?" Sasuke's eyes bore into him, and when he refused to offer up a response, Naruto sighed and continued. "It's not - well, it doesn't affect the team or anything, not really, but - but I just - you trusted me with all this Orochimaru stuff. That - it - I mean, it means a lot. To me. And I want you to know that - that I trust you, too."
The frank admission caused conflicting emotions to collide violently within Sasuke's chest. That part of him that would likely forever be that lonely little boy crying over the loss of his entire clan felt lighter, warmer, stronger than it had in years. Despite the belief that such an acknowledgement was unearned, Naruto had offered it up freely anyway. His words had nothing to do with his worth as an Uchiha or a shinobi, but merely his existence as Sasuke. Naruto had somehow always been the one to see that side of him.
But he also knew that there was nothing more treacherous than being trusted by someone so completely. Mere minutes ago he had nearly given in to the temptation of the power Orochimaru's gift provided, despite only having an inkling of the rewards and consequences. Imagine if, under the control of the dark curse placed upon him, he gave in to another temptation, a temptation for powers he knew could match Itachi's. Or if one day he was at such a loss that he didn't even need Orochimaru's influence to convince him to heed his brother's parting words. If today had proven anything, it was how far he had yet to go to reach his goal, and knowing that someone had such trust in a person made them an easy target. It was the last lesson his brother had taught him.
His face, impassive as ever, showed no signs of the war waging within him. Instead he did his best to bury all emotions, all of his doubts and fears in the deepest depths of his soul. He simply couldn't worry about it now. There was too much at stake, too much else that needed to be dealt with in the single remaining day of the test. Shifting his position, Sasuke turned away from Naruto, resting his weight fully against the other boy's back as he closed his eyes, shamefully seeking a comfort he knew he didn't deserve.
"You'll tell me after the exam?"
Naruto's response was instant and resolute. "Yeah."
"Then let me rest so we can hurry up and get out of here."
An annoyed huff met his ears.
"Jerk."
"Usuratonkachi."
As Sasuke sat quietly, Naruto behind him and Sakura close by, he silently cursed his cruel fate, that the only two people capable of making him feel safe were also the two people who never should have so willingly offered him their trust. ____________________________________ 
A/N: I almost put a "believe it" in here and that thought slightly horrifies me. Also my ff.net account is officially 20 years old! Should I be proud or ashamed? lol
As always, critics and grammar police are appreciated!
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tact-and-impulse · 3 years
Text
At Arm’s Length Chapter 14
*dojo door slams open* Dad’s home.
Thank you for your patience! Now that this is the last installment correlating to the Kyoto arc, the next chapter will be an interlude before we hop onto the angst train. I know it took a long time for this update, and this past year has been a struggle, given I had to prepare for a major exam (which I passed, so that’s something!) and the current state of the world. The events of this chapter cover Kaoru’s childhood to the Seinan war, including several traumatic events. Content warnings for death of a parent, depictions of war, PTSD, death of a spouse, and depictions of hospitalization. Let me know what you think, and please take care of yourselves.
Chapter 14: Becoming a Father
When he emerged from Commissioner Kawaji’s office, Koshijiro let exhaustion take over. He had stayed awake two hours past midnight to finalize his evacuation plan, and the entire morning had already flown by due to the commissioner grilling him on the details. He had fended off the questions with varying degrees of success, until he was dismissed with a scowl.
He returned to his desk, settled in his chair, and closed his eyes. Just for a minute…
“Officer Kamiya, we received a message requesting backup.” Shinichi nervously interrupted his rest.
He shook off the lethargy, to see the rookie. Occasionally, the young officers were called on for assistance, and Koshijiro had to accompany them as their direct superior. “Please tell me the details on the way there. Let’s head over.”
There was a clash at the fish market, reportedly between two rival gangs. The details of the feud were unknown, but both sides were agitated and aggressive. Shouts and crashes could be heard from a block away. As Koshijiro and the others approached, the noise intensified. The scene was chaotic. Men were exchanging blows and throwing various items at each other. Bloodied faces drifted in and out among the mob, along with the uniforms of officers. The rookies immediately launched themselves into the fray, disappearing in a matter of moments.
A flash of red barreled towards Koshijiro’s right, and he instinctively caught…an octopus. His arm held the creature to his chest, and its tentacles curled around his sleeve and towards his neck. Gingerly, he set it in a nearby bucket of water, and it wriggled in relief. Now that he looked closer, some of the thrown items were raw seafood.
But not all.
A sword swung towards Koshijiro, the rusty edge aiming for his temple, and he ducked. His right hand fell to his bokken, as he analyzed his opponent. A shorter, stockier man with a gap-toothed grin and a death wish, apparently. Koshijiro drew his bokken, moving into a defensive position.
It wasn’t difficult to read his movements, and when the man attempted an overhead swing, Koshijro blocked. The force was intense, and he had to widen his stance. However, that set him up perfectly for the next move. With an inhale, he pushed back, lifting his back foot off the ground to hook around the man’s knee. The man gave a startled exclamation as his feet turned inward, and Koshijiro disengaged. His opponent threatened to fall forward and that left him open for a strike at the sensitive point behind the elbow. The man’s grip spasmed, but even if he could somehow shake off the numbness, Koshijiro was already following through with another blow to the back of the head. Koshijiro watched him go down, and the immediate handcuffing by Officer Abe, who was on standby.
“Whoa, Kamiya-san, that was awesome!”
“Well, I’m glad it worked. I’ve been thinking over this maneuver for some time.” He was rather proud of his success, and confidently, he moved on.
In total, fifty people were arrested, jailed, and scheduled for questioning. He had volunteered for the last shift of interrogation and didn’t return home until past midnight. Koshijiro prepared for bed, and every movement was abnormally loud. Once he had closed his eyes, his ears rang from the eerie silence.
How long had it been since they were gone? June was already coming to a close. Kaoru’s birthday was at the end of the week and he was in Satsuma for her last one. Their usual celebration was a nice dinner, but he felt like this one should be grander, to make amends. He would have to think of something soon…as a testament to how tired he was, he fell asleep mid-thought.
When he woke, he scrambled for the time and realized he was running late. The train would arrive soon, and he had promised to be at the station. He skipped breakfast and broke into a sprint as he drew closer, but he made it to his destination. Tokio rose from a bench, lifting her little son.
“Kamiya-san, thank you for being here. Are you alright?”
He took a moment to catch his breath. “Yes, I’m fine. I see the train’s here?” The locomotive seemed to be giving a long exhale, the turning of the wheels slowing with each cycle.
“Yes, but they must be checking the passengers before they let them out.” She adjusted her hold on Tsutomu, his sleeping face squished against her collar.
They watched the disembarking people and scanned the faces for a boy of the right description. Finally, he stepped out. He was about ten or eleven, and his hair was mussed from sleeping at an odd angle. Noticing their gazes, he cautiously approached, looking up at Tokio.
“Are you Fujita-san?”
“I am and this is my son, Tsutomu. Kamiya-san is my husband’s colleague.”
Koshijiro nodded in greeting. “It’s good to meet you. How was your journey?”
“Long. It wasn’t too bad until the train.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wanted to go on foot like Kenshin did, the train is too noisy.”
“You met Himura-san?”
“Yeah. He really helped me out in my village.” He became quiet, obviously remembering. “He did say, ‘Kamiya-dono will be in Tokyo, so there is no need to worry.’”
Koshijiro coughed to conceal his embarrassment. “I see. Well, I heard he made it to his destination, so there’s no need to worry about him either.”
Tokio knelt to meet Eiji at eye level. “My husband informed me that you lost your parents and brother. I’m so sorry.”
“Kenshin helped me.” Eiji stared at his feet. “He said the dead only want the living to be happy.”
“He wasn’t wrong.” Koshijiro quietly said. “Your family would want that for you.”
They walked out, and Tokio intended to treat Eiji to a well-deserved meal. She extended the invitation to Koshijiro but he had to decline. “Some other time. I’ll stop by now and then, to check in. If there’s anything you need, you can always visit the Kamiya dojo.”
On his way back, he passed a flower seller, hawking baskets teeming with small pink and white deutzia. They greatly resembled cherry blossoms and he remembered they were gone by August. He turned around and paid for one bouquet, mentally mapping out the detour to the cemetery.
Kyoko will surely love these flowers.
***
Everything about Kaoru was utterly charming. Her little yawns, the way she stretched her whole body when she woke, the downy hair capping her head, her plush grip gently enclosing his thumb. She was an energetic baby, working her fingers and flailing her limbs as if testing them out. She was more than Koshijiro and Kyoko could have asked for.
She grew quickly, and Koshijiro was loath to miss a moment. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Kyoko and Osue-san, who visited thrice a week to help out. The majority of his day was spent working, so when he returned home at Kaoru’s early bedtime, Kyoko encouraged him to rock their daughter to sleep. She reassured otherwise but he had felt awkward in the early days, too large and clumsy for his tiny girl. As he strolled through the house, Kaoru’s round eyes intently focused on his face before she slowly nodded off.
When she was a few months old, Koshijiro noticed a bright blue ribbon tied around her head. “Hm? What’s this?’ He asked Kyoko.
“I noticed she has a bald spot, so I thought to cover it with the ribbon.” Meanwhile, Kaoru didn’t seem to mind, happily rolling onto her belly and offering Koshijiro a smile.
He sat beside her and one pudgy hand touched his knee before she tried to lift her upper body. Her feet pushed against the tatami but she didn’t budge. As she struggled to move to his lap, her barely visible eyebrows drew together and she made a loud noise of frustration. Amused, he picked her up by the armpits and remarked. “It’s a little early for you to crawl, Kaoru, but it’s good that you’re eager.”
“She’ll be crawling soon.” Kyoko joined them, adjusting the blue ribbon so it was more secure. “And then, she’ll walk and run.”
“Not too fast for us, I hope.”
But for now, Kaoru was still small enough to hold. While their little home was cozy and quiet, it was not as peaceful outside. The disasters of the Ansei era had accumulated in the past two years: cholera raging through Edo, an earthquake in Hida, an assassination near the Sakurada gate. A treaty with the Americans had been signed, resulting in widespread discontent. With the ports open to trade, the markets and routes changed. Inflation drove costs up, as foreigners bought gold. The shogunate was proving to be increasingly unequipped to handle current issues.
Meanwhile, Koshijiro continued to teach kenjutsu. His students were eager to use real blades and threatened to leave if they couldn’t. He did his best to ensure everyone was safe, but he only had one pair of eyes. There were several close calls. After a particularly nasty duel between two students, he sent a doctor for their injuries and ended class early. When everyone had left, he sat on the freshly cleaned dojo floor, rubbing his forehead. The students were eager to fight and yes, they needed to know how to protect themselves, but was he enabling them? What would his predecessors think of him?
“Sorry to interrupt.”
He turned to see Kyoko, holding their baby daughter and beaming at him. “It’s Otou-san, Kaoru. Otou-san.”
Kaoru gave a delighted cry, waving her fist. How could he possibly be despondent?
Kyoko handed her off, and the baby’s soft cheek grazed his. She nuzzled, turning her face against his shoulder, and he held her tighter. Meeting his wife’s tender gaze, he smiled. “Thank you.”
Once Kaoru could toddle about, there was no stopping her, and she took obvious joy in being followed. Her wide smile over her shoulder was a precious thing to behold. When she’d fall, her tears weren’t out of pain but desire for comfort, for she quickly stopped once she was held. Soon enough, even those subsided, and she’d resume walking as if nothing happened.
After one such occurrence, Kyoko began to laugh. “Her face looks just like yours! So determined!”
“If that’s so, then she certainly takes after you too.” But he laughed as well.
It was during those blissful days that his father returned. He had sent a letter in advance, explaining he no longer had work in Kunitake’s area and would be transferring back home. Koshijiro personally suspected they had a falling-out but kept his reply succinct and inviting. Otou-san arrived with the summer heat, and Koshijiro stepped away from the dojo to greet him with a bow.
“Welcome back.”
“Koshijiro, it’s good to be home.” His father smiled. He was noticeably thinner, the lines on his face deeper. “Oh? Is that Kaoru-chan?”
He glanced towards the porch, to see his daughter staring at them, before she unsteadily ran into the house. “Oka! Oka!”
“Calling for her mother?” Otou-san’s tone was both amused and wistful.
“Her first word as well. Please, come in.” As he offered, he took his father’s satchel. It was surprisingly light. Had Otou-san sold his belongings…or was he kicked out?
Kyoko appeared, Kaoru clinging to her leg. “Welcome! Are you hungry at all? We can have lunch early.”
They settled him in, and the tension seemed to leave his frame. He was in his early sixties, Koshijiro thought, but his age had never shown until now. He moved slower, he slept heavier and longer, and he was not as boisterous as before. Worried, Koshijiro sent for one of Kyoko’s doctors. For the most part, Otou-san’s health was fair, but his heart was weak and they would have to keep an eye on him. Plenty of rest and a daily routine would help, and they did their best to make him comfortable. Otou-san dove into his art with full force, and more often than not, he could be found painting in the yard. He happily gave Kaoru any paper and ink she wanted to draw with, and allowed her to drum her fists against his back in a makeshift massage. He also got along well with Kyoko, who effortlessly charmed everyone in her orbit anyway. Most of his father’s paintings were sold, but if Kyoko expressed a liking for one, he would set it aside for safekeeping.
“Aha! I see the pattern now.” Otou-san clapped his hands together, after a brief survey of Kyoko’s choices. “You have a keen eye for the seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, winter.”
“Of course, and you depict them so well, Otou-sama. But do you have any preferences on what you paint?”
“Not particularly, though it’s better if everything I see remains still while I’m working.” He joked. “But that’s hardly ever the case. Such is life.” And to prove his point, Kaoru hurtled past him, running at full speed to escape a harried Osue, who was attempting to wash her face.
A few months later, they celebrated Kaoru turning three. The zori only lasted a few steps before she kicked them off with obvious relief and to Osue-san’s chagrin. Her pudgy hands held a long stick of chitose ame, which she eagerly crammed into her mouth.
“Yes, live a long, happy life, Kaoru.” Kyoko murmured. Her fatigue had been worse as of late, and she rested against Koshijiro’s shoulder.
When Kaoru dozed off too, worn out by the day’s activities, Koshijiro held her in his lap. Glancing about to make sure no one else was looking, he pressed a kiss on both of their cheeks, his wife’s cool one and his daughter’s slightly sticky one.
Now that she was old enough, Koshijiro had crafted a bokken to match Kaoru’s size, and she would follow along with morning stretches. Anything more would be too advanced, and she usually fussed when Kyoko had to pull her away. Eventually, Koshijiro noticed perforations in the rice paper, at about the eye level of a little girl. It then became a matter of catching her in the act. He listened carefully for a tiny pop, and after a moment, opened the door to find her staring up at him.
“Kaoru, did you do this?”
“No!” But she sucked in a breath and turned to run away. Koshijiro easily stepped around her.
“I’m going to ask again. Did you poke holes in the doors?”
She squirmed, her mouth petulantly twisting. “…it’s fun.”
“But it isn’t very nice. It worries me and your mother when we have to fix them. And we don’t like being mad at you. Can you be good and promise you’ll stop?” He extended his pinky finger towards her.
“Hmph.” She pouted but she linked her tiny finger with his and they shook on it.
“That’s a promise.”
Her voice was small and uncertain when she asked. “Do you hate me?”
“No, of course not. I never could, and Okaa-san feels the same way.” As the words left him, he suddenly remembered his own childhood voice, declaring that he would never be anything like his father. Gods, he must have caused Otou-san a great deal of pain and he’d never realized until now.
When he spoke with Kyoko, she insisted that they have a conversation. “You need to talk with him alone. There’s still time to make things right between you. As long as you’re alive, you can have another chance.”
He decided to do so, one morning. Otou-san was in his usual spot in the yard, trying to capture the autumn scenery with his paints. He shuffled towards the porch, spared a glance at Kyoko. She narrowed her eyes at his stalling, and urged him to keep moving with quick waves of her hand. Suppressing a sigh, he moved to stand by his father.
“That looks lovely.” He lamely nodded at the painting. What was he doing?
His father laughed. “Thank you. I know you’re not as passionate as I am about this, but I appreciate it. Is something on your mind?”
“I spoke to Kaoru about the holes in the door, and she reminded me of the past.” He slowly said. “I remember some of the unkind words I dealt to you when I was a child, and I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. As you said, you were a child and our situation was…unexpectedly complicated. But I never blamed you or your mother.” He set his brush down, resting it on a small ceramic dish with murky water. “I think if Miyo had been with us, like when you were younger, it might be easier to talk with each other. Maybe, she’d still be with us.”
The wind swept through, and a lull fell over them. Koshijiro cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden lump there. “Kyoko says people live on in the stories we tell.”
“She’s right.” He paused. “I never told you how I met your mother.”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
“Well, it wasn’t romantic. I fell asleep by the river, while sketching. I only meant to have a nap, but when I woke up, it was morning and Miyo was standing over me. Then, I kept seeing her all the time, while I was in town. Our paths crossed frequently after that. I was happy whenever I saw her, and disappointed when I didn’t. When I found that she was looking for work, I hired her. And after that, I only fell deeper. I was sure…that we could live happily together. But Otsuna and Kunitake were jealous. I knew they were, but I raised them like my own after my cousin and wife died. I did my best, trying not to choose. Miyo never told me she was pregnant with you, and when I met you, you were almost a year old. But I couldn’t let you either of you go again. You probably don’t remember much, but despite the circumstances at the time, the famine and uncertainty, those were some of the happiest days of my life.”
Something gave in his chest at his father’s words and sober expression. Otou-san was not perfect by any means, far from it, and yet…he was only human in the end. “That time is vague in my memories but I was happy too.”
“I am sorry though. I never meant for you to be hurt by your siblings, and I did speak to them multiple times. Their harassment is a failure on my part. I don’t know where I went wrong, but please believe that I never encouraged their behavior.”
“I believe you and that it’s not entirely your fault.” He assured. “There comes a point when immaturity is no longer an excuse and I doubt they ever found it. Years ago, I would have thought it difficult to uproot the resentment I have. But I can now. I do forgive you and I think I understand you a little better now. Even more so because I have Kyoko and Kaoru.”
Otou-san looked as if he was about to cry, and he was at a loss for what to do. Almost as if on cue, the door opened to signal someone was on the porch. Kaoru darted towards them, with a wide smile. “Jii-jii!” She twirled in place, her little ponytail flying. “This new ribbon is pretty, right?”
His father nodded, voice light. “Of course! It’s the same color as a rose. And you’re pretty from head to toe. And what does your Otou-san think?”
They both turned to him, and Koshijiro cleared his throat. “Yes, Kaoru, it’s very nice. Did Okaa-san buy it for you?”
“Uh-huh. We match now! Tou-san, come see.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the house amidst his father’s laughter. Kyoko had tied her own rose-colored ribbon in her bun, and she lifted her head from her sewing with a smile when they rejoined her at the table.
“Thank you.” He murmured.
“You’re welcome. How do you feel?”
“Better.”
“Then, that’s good.” Their private conversation was interrupted by Kaoru, wondering where one of her books was.
In the evenings, Kyoko read aloud to Kaoru, who had claimed a spot to nestle between them in their futon. Koshijiro was embarrassed whenever he fell asleep to his wife’s voice, but those were rare, since Kaoru would poke his side and ask if he wanted to read next. She would try to turn the pages for him, intent on helping move their nightly story forward. She already knew a few kanji, including her name, and Koshijiro was very proud.
There was one issue that arose. One of the new books Kaoru liked was about a family, which had multiple children. The youngest was a newborn girl, and Kaoru seemed fascinated, her fingers lingering on the baby’s descriptions. Once Kyoko ended the tale, the inevitable question came.
“Kaa-san?”
“Yes?”
“Where do babies come from?”
“Hmm.” Kyoko pretended to ponder over the matter. “Well, they appear when an Okaa-san and an Otou-san wish very hard.”
“Oh. So I will wish.”
“Wish for what, Kaoru?”
“A little sister!”
“That’s such a nice wish.” Kyoko mildly replied. “Now, let’s go to sleep.”
Koshijiro fervently hoped that would be the end, but as the seasons changed, Kaoru was still loudly expressing her desire for a younger sister. It became a daily inquiry, and at last, Koshijiro decided to gently break the news to her, before going to bed.
“Perhaps, you should think of a new wish. A little sister probably isn’t on its way.”
“Why not?” She demanded.
“W-well…” He stammered, thrown off guard. “It takes two people to make that kind of a request?” Kyoko immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes shut and shoulders trembling with concealed laughter. “Two adults, like me and your mother.”
“Tou-san, then wish with Kaa-san.”
What had he done to deserve this conversation? “But when a baby comes, you can’t exchange it, even if it’s a boy.”
“A little brother would be okay too, like Hitomi-chan’s.” Kaoru conceded, referring to one of her older playmates.
Thankfully, Kyoko took over, still smiling from the aftershocks. “Kaoru, we waited a very long time for you. We wished and prayed and nearly gave up. I don’t know if we can be that lucky a second time. But if you’re feeling lonely, let’s invite Hitomi-chan and your other friends over more often. And there are other children who live nearby too. Maybe, there will be someone who would like a big sister. What do you think?”
“…alright.” Over her head, Kyoko and Koshijiro exchanged relieved glances.
***
Emperor Meiji ascended to the throne, and a power struggle with the shogunate seemed imminent. Nothing in the news was particularly uplifting, a prelude to the certain turmoil.
One wintry morning, he passed by Otou-san’s room and stopped. The door was wide open, though without signs of a struggle. In the front, his father’s shoes were missing, and a quick scan confirmed that the yard was empty. A sense of foreboding overcame him. He walked past the gate, looking down the road to find a set of shallow footprints. They led to a large tree, shielding any snow from covering Otou-san’s sitting form. As he approached, the foreboding grew stronger, and it was only confirmed when he gently placed his palm upon his father’s shoulder. There was no heat at all. Otou-san’s face was perfectly tranquil, his final moments of acceptance, and Koshijiro bowed his head.
“Thank you, and goodbye. I’ll take you to Okaa-san now.”
The funeral was surprisingly crowded, with many people offering to pay their respects. It was clear that Otou-san had been respected and loved, by not only his colleagues but also the neighborhood and his fellow artists. Noticeably, there were two figures who never showed, but Koshijiro did not mind. It was best that his wife and daughter wouldn’t meet his siblings. Preferably never at all. Otou-san’s ashes were laid to rest beside the simple grave of the woman he loved, and Koshijiro blinked back sudden tears at the sight of his parents, reunited in death.
Kyoko’s familiar hand slipped into his. “It’s alright. You can cry, if you need to.” She gently said.
“Forgive me, Kyoko. I don’t know why-” He broke off, his voice shaky. He didn’t know why his composure was crumbling at this moment, when he had handled the funeral arrangements so steadily.
“Shh. I’m here, and so is Kaoru. We’re here.” Her gaze shone with her own tears, and Kaoru clung to Koshijiro’s other side, brows drawn together. They remained in a close huddle, all the way home. The house was quieter, and sometimes, there’d be an extra bowl set out by accident, but like years ago, the grief was easier to bear with time.
That spring, he was on midnight patrol, lantern in hand. A distant clamor rerouted him, and he kept one hand on the hilt of his katana as he hurried towards the shouts. A couple of shadows were already fleeing, leaving four bodies. One emitted a weak rattling cough. He drew closer and the lantern’s glow illuminated the man’s bloody face. “Hayashi?!” He checked for a pulse on his friend’s slick neck. Rapid, but present. He stabilized Hayashi, just as his colleagues rushed over.
The story was that it had been a group of ruffians, looking for anyone to rob in this economic crisis. Hayashi did survive, though at the cost of a maimed right leg. He was despondent; such an injury meant an end to kenjutsu and his service to his lord. “I’ll be thrown away, who wants a cripple for protection?”
“Don’t say that,” Koshijiro tried to persuade him. “Focus on getting better first, before returning to work.”
“As if. Just leave me to die and go back to your own dojo.” Hayashi snarled. That only served to steel Koshijiro. He wrote to Maekawa and Kikuhara, requesting their assistance, and continued to visit with food and water.
Maekawa was there within the week, and spoke nothing of kenjutsu, just boisterously singing as he cleaned Hayashi’s row house. Kikuhara was unable to do anything in person, but he sent packages of books, paintings, and other things to pass the time with. At first, Hayashi shouted at them, to the point where he wore himself out. They took meals at his bedside if he wouldn’t move and changed his dressings, and although Maekawa was skeptical that they were helping at all, Koshijiro insisted they were. Hayashi’s strength was slow to build, given his initial resistance, but he left his bed in order for them to stop nagging, as he put it, and scowled as he ate. He no longer raised his voice or spoke of dying. Despite his perpetual bitter mood, it was progress.
Koshijiro believed they were going to finally get him out of the house, only to find that the door chained in place. Hayashi had left a folded note in one of the edges. Thank you for staying with me, but I need to find my own way in life again.
A search resulted in nothing. Maekawa expressed his characteristic confidence that Hayashi would be fine, wherever he ended up, and Koshijiro reluctantly accepted that he had to trust his friend would continue to live on.
His dojo was faring well; there were many who were eager to learn how to fight or have their sons learn. At seven, Kaoru relished helping out, and he tended to ask for her to demonstrate, especially for the newcomers. She was as old as he was, when he first started learning, and with her head start, she was very good at kenjutsu and knew it. She loved being in the dojo, and although Koshijiro was proud of her enthusiasm, she did fight with some of the boys who were prejudiced towards a female classmate and mistakenly believed she was weaker. More than once, he had to break up a tussle. Punishment was dealt equally too, he didn’t want to favor his daughter and he could handle her grumpiness afterward. If she wanted to spar those boys in a designated match, however, he never objected.
Kyoko was much more apprehensive. “I’m not saying she can’t be in the dojo. I don’t want to confine her; I want her to enjoy life.” She was very firm about that sentiment, given her upbringing. “But I’m worried she’ll be hurt. It’s different for women. Men are allowed to bear scars with pride, whereas we’re expected to hide them.”
“I understand, but she’s growing up and she knows how to pick herself up when she falls. Kaoru’s resilient, like you.”
“That’s kind of you to say, dear.” It was an evasive reply. She still wasn’t mollified and fretted over Kaoru’s bruises and scrapes. Kaoru complained about the thick ointments, that most of her injuries were accidents and in the increasingly rarer fights, the dumb boys kind of deserved it. Koshijiro silently agreed with the latter point, as he bandaged his daughter up.
The majority of his students were now outside the samurai class, and somehow, word must have spread because he had a spectator who lingered after one class.
“Are you interested in joining?” Koshijiro inquired.
“It would be an honor but no. I am here as a representative of Omura.” The man smiled. “Have you heard of him?”
“Omura Masujiro? The Choshu strategist?”
“Yes, I’m glad you recognized him. But are you are aware of the cause he fights for?”
“It seems you’ll tell me regardless.”
There was the usual talk about sonno joi, or the expulsion of foreigners. But one thing caught Koshijiro’s attention. “The samurai class has abused their power and wealth for far too long. What we want is to remind them that at their core, they are no better than anyone else. To level the field, so to speak, and put an end to the four class system. Think about it, and we’ll be in town.” He provided the name of an inn they frequented and departed.
The conversation kept surfacing in Koshijiro’s thoughts. He did not believe that foreign influence was totally beneficial. The consequences of famine, economic turmoil, and disease were too severe to be ignored. Hayashi was one of many who had suffered from the growing unrest among the people. But it was too late to close the borders again. The military was already incorporating Western technology, and Choshu was offering military training to commoners. Omura’s follower spoke of humbling the samurai. Abolishing the class structure…he could accept that idea. Takaoka was supporting Satsuma and Choshu, the leaders of the rebellion. They were gathering anyone who was willing to go to Kyoto and assist in the fight to end the shogunate. A number of samurai from Oyumi were going, including Koshijiro’s direct superior, but before he could leave, he had to speak to Kyoko and Kaoru.
Kyoko responded first. “Of course, I want you to stay and be safe. If you leave, you might never return. But…” She stared at her own hands, wrapped around her teacup. A few wisps of hair escaped from behind her ear, and he reached over to tuck them back. “You feel very strongly about this.” With an inhale, she firmly straightened and met his gaze. “Promise us you’ll survive.”
“I promise. Will you and Kaoru be alright?”
Their daughter hadn’t said anything yet, her eyes wide as she looked at them. Kyoko reached for her hands, drawing her closer.
“Kaoru and I will be fine. I’m certain we won’t be the only women left behind either. We’ll manage and welcome you home when you return.”
“We’ll be here, Otou-san, don’t worry about us.” Kaoru’s voice was subdued, but she attempted a smile.
“Thank you. I’ll be home again before you know.”
He had been very naïve.
***
His first experience with war could never be forgotten. From the march on foot to the first battle cry in earshot, it all stayed with him. Most of the early days blurred together, leaving the impression of sore feet and shoulders. But when they reached Kyoto, the adrenaline surged within him and his fingers shook as he loaded his gun.
One moment, it was quiet. The next, commands were shouted down the line, and then, there was cracking gunfire and smoke. The soldier next to him was struck by a bullet. The man in front was cut down, blood seeping through his uniform. Behind him, an enemy cannonball landed on people he couldn’t name but their screams of agony echoed forever.
It was madness. Every day was a fresh ordeal.
The first time he killed a man, it was with his sword. It had been a long day, and his opponent was too slow for one moment. That was all it took, Koshijiro’s blade sinking deeper than either of them expected. The man’s features slackened, and Koshijiro knew he was already gone. The body twitched several times, before finally falling as the sword was removed. Koshijiro’s feet were planted to the ground, which was gradually darkening in color.
I’m sorry.
The words died on his tongue, as a bullet flew past, the sound deafening and reminding him that to stay still in battle meant death. He couldn’t linger, he had to keep moving. He had promised Kyoko and Kaoru he would come home to them, and that became his anchor on the battlefield. Even if doing so meant that he had to feel hollow for all of the rest.
***
“Otou-san? Otou-san?”
Koshijiro jolted. Kaoru was standing before him. When had she approached? He hadn’t noticed.
She beamed at him. “We’re having lunch now.” The sunlit yard stretched behind her, and he gripped the edges of the porch.
He had been home for a week, yet nothing felt real. He should be happy, he was alive and not in bad shape. Many men had not returned at all. But he felt like part of him had been left behind on the battlefield, drifting aimlessly and pulling the rest of him with it until a loud noise startled him and then he was on edge. It wore him out; he was constantly tired, despite waking well after sunrise. And there were the nightmares. He didn’t feel right.
Things had changed in Chiba too. Osue had succumbed to pneumonia in his absence, and he had already paid numb respects to the faithful old woman. Kyoko was understandably melancholy, not helped at all by how her illness had taken a turn. She was on bedrest, and her medicines had increased in quantity. Neither of them were sure how well they were working.
“We met a woman who teaches kenjutsu.”
“You did?”
“Her name is Chiba-san, as in the Chiba clan. Kaoru and I were buying groceries, and she was in her uniform. She was kind enough to invite us to her afternoon lesson. Kaoru really enjoyed it, so I feel more at ease.”
“Then, you can attend her lessons more often. It would be good for Kaoru.” He hadn’t been teaching, he wasn’t ready. Kyoko understood, but Kaoru clearly missed it. Even though she liked Chiba-san’s lessons, he overheard the two of them talking, while they thought he was having a nap.
“Is Otou-san going to be okay?”
“I don’t know yet, Kaoru.”
“He doesn’t talk about the war. It must have been scary.”
“It would be better not to ask. There are some things your father can’t share with us, that he wants to shield us from.” Kyoko evenly said. “When it’s time, he’ll share.”
“And what if he never does?”
“Then, that’s alright. We’ll be here to support him, just like always. He’s still your Otou-san, no matter what.”
“Oh. I get it now.”
His sight flooded and he doubled over. Kyoko and her infinite patience! And his innocent daughter, whose feelings were hurt. Here he was, being pathetic. He didn’t step out to acknowledge them, but he resolved in his heart that he would try to return to normal.
He wrote a routine for himself, including meditation and what to think of to pull himself back to reality. He was out of bed before his wife and daughter, to clean the dojo and equipment, before reintroducing kenjutsu back into his life. But he couldn’t use a real blade anymore. Never again, not even to keep students. He couldn’t let go of the sword, but he could forge a new relationship with it, to protect who was important to him. He began drafting new kata, on defending and disarming. The work anchored him even further, kept him from falling too deeply into listlessness.
Kyoko and Kaoru were encouraging, every step of the way. His wife woke him from the worst nightmares, and she intuitively knew when to give him space and when to be near. She always made her presence known, never startling him. When he returned to work, his satchel hid little notes in her handwriting, heartfelt reminders that pushed back against his dark thoughts. Kaoru was determined to make him smile once a day. Her good cheer was infectious, as she took over in leading their daily stretches. Upon finding her mother’s notes, she added her own, complete with the signature she was practicing. One of her first sewing projects was a handkerchief for him, a fine dark green with three leaves, and she presented it with such pride, his weariness lifted.
It wasn’t always easy. Some days, he faltered, folded in on himself. It wasn’t until months later that he could think back and realize how low he had been. He wasn’t certain if he’d ever feel like that again, but he learned to recognize the triggers and cope.
Now that the Emperor had moved to the freshly renamed Tokyo and there was peace at last, properties were up for grabs. The more Koshijiro heard, the more he leaned into the possibility. There was excellent medical care in the capital, and plenty of work to be had. The influx of people also meant more potential students. It was a time for change, and when would another opportunity like this occur again?
The paperwork was quickly finalized and they packed their belongings. By year’s end, they were settled into their new home in Tokyo. Koshijiro had commissioned renovations and additions, and though the house was larger than needed for a family of three, he and Kyoko discussed accepting boarders to pay off the debt. But the bathhouse was worth it, to the delight of Kyoko and Kaoru, and he liked his dojo very much. The wood smelled fresh and fragrant, and he pivoted in the open space. The light poured in, washing over his face. This was his school, the one he had yearned for all these years. A school of swordsmanship that would use the blade to protect, never to kill. A school that would represent a vow for the present and a wish for the future.
Kamiya Kasshin. The living heart.
***
At first, he thought the Kamiya plot had moved, because there were only supposed to be three graves, for his parents and Kyoko. So the fourth had puzzled him for a moment, before he realized whose it was. Oh. Well, this was very strange, to see his own grave.
“Kenkaku Koshimichi Koki…?” He muttered. The Buddhist name he had been granted for the afterlife felt like it belonged to a different person entirely.
Fortunately, there weren’t many weeds. The ones that were present gave his right shoulder enough work. As he was finishing up, a kind couple offered to scrub down the headstones and light the incense. They made small talk, that they were newlyweds and he had married into her family. They refused any monetary payment, and with clasped hands, they were soon on their way. Alone, Koshijiro knelt.
“I’m a little early, but I thought these flowers would be nice. And sorry, that Kaoru isn’t here with me.” It would be nearly eighteen years ago, that she was born. “I’d rather celebrate her birthday when she’s home. We’ve missed out on that, the past two times.”
The wind ruffled his hair. It was getting longer, he needed a trim.
“I’ve been working on adjusting Kamiya Kasshin, for a one-handed variant. Not just for me, but for Yutaro and those in similar situations. It would also be good for anyone who’s been injured.” For that matter, injured people weren’t far from his mind. “Even though I’d like to be there, fighting with them.” He stood, brushed off his sore knees, and gave a last smile. “I’ll be back for Obon, with Kaoru and everyone else.”
***
After multiple appointments, Kyoko finally spoke the truth aloud. “I’m not going to live much longer, am I?”
Dr. Gensai slowly nodded. “Yes. I wish I could do something, anything.”
“You’ve done so much already, ever since we moved here last year.”
Kaoru worked her way under Kyoko’s arm, half-crawling into her lap. “Okaa-san.”
Koshijiro was barely listening, the world closing upon the clinic’s room. Nothing seemed real at that moment.
As the days passed, the neighborhood pitched in. His police colleagues covered extra shifts in his place, and their wives kept Kyoko company while he was working. He received plenty of groceries with a hand wave in regards to payment, which he never got used to. There was always something on the table for dinner. An acquaintance by some degrees, the apprentice of an artisan who had admired the work of Kamiya Keiichiro, offered to paint Kyoko’s picture, free of charge. The ink portrait was very somber, unlike his wife, but Kyoko appreciated the gesture. To Dr. Gensai and the rest of their visitors, she seemed accepting and strong.
However, when it was just the two of them, she was afraid of dying.
“I don’t want to go. I need to live, just a while longer, until Kaoru is a little older.” She sobbed, and it took all of Koshijiro’s willpower not to break down. He held her and didn’t speak, his throat burning.
Kaoru was on her best behavior, ensuring her mother was warm and had food. She braided both of their hair at night and chose Kyoko’s clothes in the morning. She read aloud, stumbling on a few unfamiliar words and making up for the little mistakes with her own interest in the novels.
Sometimes, his wife was too fatigued by the pain in her abdomen. Her hand shook when she drew her fingers through Kaoru’s ponytail. It was too easy for her to be out of breath. But she was focused on one task in particular, and he found her carefully writing when she was able.
“It’s our family book.” She showed him the familiar cover of the volume that told the stories of their pasts. She had been updating it over the years. “The next few pages are for Kaoru, for when she’s a young woman. I’ve already written your pages, for when you feel troubled.”
“Kyoko…”
“I only want you to be well. And I’m sorry.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes and gave a short laugh. “Oh no, not again.”
“No, Kyoko, don’t apologize.” He drew her trembling form into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve fought a harder battle than many ever will, and even now, you handle it with grace in front of Kaoru.”
“I don’t want her to worry about me, but I think she knows anyway. She’s a good girl, our daughter. She’ll be a lovely young lady someday.” Her tone was bittersweet with longing. “My kimonos have been set aside for her?”
“Yes, for when the time is right.”
“Mm. Hopefully, they won’t be too out of fashion.”
“They’ll suit Kaoru well. I saw the blue one with the cranes, the one you wore when we met.”
“That was almost twenty years ago, right? I still remember that day, I knew you were kind and honorable. I think I loved you from the moment I told you my name. I never expected to have this, any of this. But I’ve seen the cherry blossoms each year with you, my husband who I’m very proud of. Every day with you has been wonderful.”
“I haven’t been at my best every day. Most days, perhaps even half.”
She shook her head, mouth curving upwards. “No, really. Every day.” She brought her hand to the side of his face, and he leaned in to kiss her.
By autumn, she was in the hospital again. She was deteriorating fast, yet she held onto Koshijiro’s hand as the doctors came in and out. She was too weak to leave her bed, and he held back her hair when her nausea was too powerful to keep at bay. The worst was when she didn’t seem to recognize him or Kaoru, rapidly blinking at them when they greeted her. Her confusion was frightening, and he always ushered Kaoru out, saying that Okaa-san needed her rest. But she was sharp enough to notice.
“It’s so hard to see her like this. I wish I could do something!” She exclaimed, kicking a stray pebble in the road.
“I feel the same. I’d rather it be me in her place.”
“Otou-san, you shouldn’t be in the hospital either.” Kaoru corrected, slumping. “All of us should be home.”
He couldn’t argue, and he took her hand as they departed.
The weather chilled, the leaves bright with color. Flowers were in rare abundance, but they managed to procure an armful of pink dianthus. Kaoru strode into the hospital room, petals falling in her wake.
“Okaa-san, we’re here to visit!”
“Hello.” Her voice was barely audible but her expression was warm.
Koshijiro was relieved she was lucid. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”
“No, I just woke up. What time is it?”
He told her, as Kaoru arranged the bouquet by the window.
“Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” Tears welled up in her gaze. “You have such a good heart, Kaoru.” She swallowed hard, intent on making her words count. “You’ve been so helpful, so sweet and strong. I’ve told you as much as I can, but if it isn’t enough, know that you’re never alone. Listen to Otou-san, and remember that he wants what’s best for you. There’s always the book, if you need it.”
“I know where the book is. I just want you.” Kaoru quietly replied.
Kyoko was too overcome to speak, cupping Kaoru’s face. Koshijiro sat at her other side, wrapping his arm around her. They huddled close, their conversation meandering; what mattered most was that they were in the present together, for as long as it could last. Eventually, Kyoko’s breathing deepened and her eyes struggled to stay open.
“We’ll be back later.” Koshijiro promised, hesitantly extricating himself.
“See you soon, Okaa-san. Love you.” Kaoru kissed her cheek, and Kyoko gave a fragile smile.
“I love you too. I love you both so much.” Those were her last words, before she fell asleep.
By the following evening, she still hadn’t woken. A number of white-clad hospital staff filled her room, exchanging words that swept over his understanding until someone explained. Kyoko was comatose. He was going to send Kaoru home, but she stamped her foot and insisted on staying. One of the doctors offered a spare office for her to sleep in, while Koshijiro remained by Kyoko’s side. It would not be long before the end, he was warned but he would not budge. He wouldn’t let her go while she was alone.
Her weak pulse fluttered under his thumb, stopping for long seconds before picking up again. His dear, persistent Kyoko. He cupped her cheek and bent his head close, uncertain if she could hear him, but he whispered into her ear. “It’s alright, Kyoko. We don’t want you to be in pain. It’s alright.”
It was ultimately a blessing that Kyoko did not linger. Before midnight, she slipped away. Koshijiro pressed his lips to hers, in one last kiss. Then, he went to Kaoru.
She stirred awake when he touched her shoulder. “Otou-san?” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.
“She’s gone.”
“Can I see her?”
He could only nod, and he led her into the room. Kaoru climbed onto the hospital bed, and stifled her sobs into Kyoko’s neck. He held her cold hand, engraving the memory of her skin into his mind. They remained there until the very last minute.
***
The funeral was accompanied by a light rain. His arms were burdened with the container of Kyoko’s ashes, and his shoulders hunched unconsciously to protect what was left of his wife from the weather. Kaoru walked beside him, quiet and matching one of his paces with two of her own. The stoic procession marched to the cemetery, and Kyoko was buried in heavy silence.
Time passed by sluggishly. The house was too quiet, and he resorted to kenjutsu, to an escape. If he kept his body occupied and moving, he would not have to think about how empty he felt.
“Otou-san?”
The timid question stopped him mid-step, and he turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway.
“Um. I tried to make lunch. Do you want to eat yet? Because you didn’t have breakfast…”
His gut reaction was to decline, he had probably lost his appetite forever. But he stared at his daughter’s round eyes, the quiver in her chin as she waited for his answer.
No. I can’t give up, I’m all Kaoru has now, and so, I must keep up my strength.
“Alright. Let’s have lunch.”
The onigiri were misshapen, lopsided triangles. There was probably a little too much salt, but to his fatigued body, the flavor wasn’t bad. The rice was definitely undercooked though, and the only sound in the room was the crunch of grains between teeth.
Then, there was a sniffle. Koshijiro lifted his head, to see Kaoru frowning and wiping away tears, even as she chewed. “Sorry.” She warbled. “It doesn’t taste good.”
“Kaoru…” He reached over the table, to awkwardly pat her head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I’m your father, it’s my duty to provide for you. But I’ve been neglecting you. I’m so sorry.”
“Mm.” She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her sleeve across her face.
“Don’t worry about cooking anymore. I’ll hire a new housekeeper to take care of that. I’ll also open the rooms to boarders so we can pay off the rest of the debt. Soon, I’ll continue teaching.”
“Can I be a student again?”
“Yes. The position of head student will always be yours, until you can teach with me.”
“And then?”
“And then, you’ll be assistant instructor. After that, head instructor. The dojo will be yours, and I’ll write it down so no one can take that away from you.”
Kaoru nodded. “Otou-san?”
“Hm?”
“Can I talk about Okaa-san?”
“Your mother loved stories. I think she’d like nothing more than for you to tell stories about her.”
She slowly nodded. “Will you?”
“Perhaps not right away. But even if I don’t speak, she’s always here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And here.” He pointed to the same spot on his daughter, and she laid her fingers upon it in understanding.
“Okay. I can talk about her for both of us.”
He didn’t respond, but he patted her head again and they continued on.
It was not easy, raising a daughter alone. As much as Kaoru looked like his dear wife, she had inherited her temper from him. They did argue, over trivial matters in hindsight, but such discussions usually ended in Kaoru slamming the door to her room and for him to thumb through his designated pages in Kyoko’s book, rereading her overarching message of love and patience. He would not repeat the mistakes of his youth, and he would knock on her door, requesting that they talk. Thankfully, her anger usually blew over quickly and he made it a point to apologize to each other.
Kamiya Kasshin was ultimately a family project. Kaoru was the first student to try the new techniques, and from observing her as well, Koshijiro made necessary changes and adjustments. His daughter was a natural at kenjutsu, and she freely challenged him.
“Wouldn’t another step work for this kata? I feel like I need to get my balance back from the last turn.”
“That’s fine, but you might run into trouble if you’re in a tight space.”
“Well, that just means it’s more important to rebalance.”
“It seems the turn’s causing the issue. What if we move it up, earlier in the sequence?”
“Yeah, that could work too!”
He did hire a housekeeper, but the middle-aged woman was far stricter than her initial interview conveyed. She heavily disapproved of Kaoru’s love for swordsmanship, insisting that she rise before dawn and sleep late, to complete extra household tasks. But Kaoru was unhappier every day, and it came to a head when the housekeeper mentioned the dreaded word of “marriage”. Kaoru was late for practice and he was searching for her, overhearing the raised voices in the kitchen.
“Why would I care about some husband I haven’t even met yet?” Kaoru exploded. “I’m me and I should be loved for who I am, not because I’m ladylike enough!”
“Your education should have started when you were much younger. Now, I fear it’s too late to salvage.” She glanced over at Koshijiro, striding towards them. “Ah, here’s your father.” If she was expecting him to defend her viewpoint, he was glad to disappoint her.
“I need her in the dojo. Don’t delay her and for that matter, we will not speak of marrying her off. Kaoru is only ten.” He firmly stated. “End of discussion.”
“You spoil her far too much. If she were my daughter, she’d be a proper girl and run the house on her own. I’m not sure what your wife did-”
“And that is where you stop, because she’s not your child, she’s mine.” He coldly dismissed her. “Pack your things and I’ll give you your pay for the week. We have no more need of your services.”
She huffed and gave them nasty looks but didn’t say another word. Before noon, the gate soundly shut behind her.
“Well…that probably went as well as it could.” He said at last.
Kaoru laughed. “I thought it was great. Thank you, Otou-san.” She hugged him and he patted her head. Then, she pouted. “Does this mean we need to find someone new?”
“We can wait a while.” Soon after, they met Sekihara Tae, whose friendship was much appreciated.
When Kaoru was twelve, they had the pleasant surprise of a visitor. Kikuhara was traveling through, and he was interested in the school Koshijiro had described in a New Year’s card. He joined the class as an observer, then to help with basic forms. He began to follow along with the students, and he caught on quickly. After a month, he held his own in sparring against Koshijiro. Kaoru called the close match in Koshijiro’s favor, but they were happy with the outcome.
Kikuhara’s objective seemed to be complete too. He opened a pocket watch and examined the inside. “It’s time for me to go. I have someone to return to now.” With a smile, he turned the watch around to show Koshijiro a photograph of a young girl, no older than five. “My daughter, Midori.”
“A daughter? You…married?”
“No.” Kikuhara paused. “I haven’t told anyone else this, but she’s the illegitimate child of my lord. I was tasked to care for her, but the moment she was placed in my arms, I knew she was as good as my own. She’s very frail though, and she isn’t interested in kenjutsu, unlike your Kaoru. But she’s kindhearted, like her real father.”
“With no offense to your lord, you are her father now and I’m sure she misses you.” Koshijiro pointed out without malice. “If you need any advice on raising her, please let me know.”
“I’ll remember, senpai.” He joked. “I will be sure to bother you about teaching as well. I like some of the kata from Kamiya Kasshin, and its message is honorable. I’m interested in sharing it in Echigo, alongside my own family’s tradition. Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“And I’ll call it…Kasshin Shintoryu Kikuhara?”
“Please don’t, you can just keep your family’s name for the school.” He was embarrassed.
“No, it’s a good name, and I’ll be happy to teach under its sign.” At the end of his stay, they saw him off with waves and promises of a future reunion, when Midori was older.
Years passed. He filled a book with the knowledge of Kamiya Kasshin, leaving it in the altar alongside Kyoko’s volume. Kaoru was promoted to assistant instructor after demonstrating mastery in the last kata, and she taught the youngest students while he focused on the older ones. They made a good team. The dojo was raucous with clashing bokken and conversation, and for some time, life was uneventful.
***
That changed when Kumamoto Castle was taken by the Satsuma army. Before the week’s end, the draft letter arrived, summoning Koshijiro to the warfront once more. He was standing frozen in the front yard and numbly rereading the notice, thinking of how he could hide it before he had a proper chance to speak to Kaoru, when she called out.
“Otou-san, what’s taking you so long?” Too late, her gaze landed on the official stamp on the envelope, and she immediately blanched. “Otou-san?”
“I’m sorry, Kaoru.”
“Why are you apologizing?!” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not like you chose to go.”
“In a way, I did when I joined the police.”
“Otou-san, don’t say that. I know you don’t really think so.” She touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?”
“I’m more worried about you. You’ll be alone.”
“No, I won’t. I have the students, and Tae’s in town. And I can always bring on more boarders.” At his distasteful expression, she scowled. “Don’t say anything about protecting me, because I can defend myself. You know I can!”
“I’m only telling you to be cautious.”
“I am.” She grumbled.
He excused himself, to find two items. One was his tanto, and the other was his father’s. He handed the sheathed blades to her. “Keep one under your pillow, and the other in the secret compartment in the bathhouse.”
“Otou-san.”
“Remember to lock your room every night.”
“Otou-san, I’ll remember. But how are you coping? You’re being called back to war, you’ll have to…” Kill people again. The unspoken words hung in the air.
“I don’t look forward to it, but I will do my best to avoid a worst case scenario. With Kamiya Kasshin, I can disarm as many as I can.”
At that, she lit up. “So, we should train as much as possible. And I want to master the succession techniques before you go!”
That was a good idea. After lessons, they practice sparred, and Koshijiro pinpointed where she needed to improve. Not that there was much, but he wanted to teach her everything he could before leaving. The last afternoon eventually came; Kaoru focused solely on Hadome and Hawatari. She was on the verge of breaking through, and she recognized as much.
“I almost had it! And I knew where I went wrong too! One more time, Otou-san?”
“No, you’re tired. It’s already been over two hours, and I can tell you’re too exhausted to proceed any further today. We should stop here.”
She groaned, slumping. “But I wanted to master them before you left, so you can see.”
“Mastering these techniques shouldn’t be rushed, especially for my sake. You are close. So, not yet, but you’re getting better every time.” He wouldn’t be here to watch her progress though, after this day.
She must have thought so too, for she set her bokken aside and fiercely hugged him. He squeezed her back, hoping it could convey all of what he couldn’t say aloud.
The morning of departure was somber. Kaoru made breakfast, which he ate without complaint. He donned his uniform and hated that his daughter looked so sad when she saw him. However, she didn’t mention it, only asking if he had everything he needed. She trailed him past the front door, the frosted grass crackling under their footsteps.
“I’ll see you soon, Otou-san.” She said, decidedly using the temporary farewell.
“Yes. Protect the school while I’m gone, and go back inside, before you catch a cold. I’ll see you soon, Kaoru.” He clasped her shoulder, hoping to give some strength to her. Then, with great reluctance, he let go and walked alone. He closed the gate behind him, waited until Kaoru locked it again, and headed into town to join his regiment.
The journey to Satsuma was taxing, as they sailed towards Kyushu. He wasn’t as young as many of the other men, and when they camped on the southern island, he fell asleep once his head touched his pillow. The nightmares trickled back, becoming more convoluted every night. The return to the battlefield was dreaded by the other policemen, especially since they were only given wooden batons and swords. He couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved by the lack of a gun. He struck at shoulders, feet, anywhere that wasn’t lethal.
Months passed, as Saigo Takamori’s defeat forced him to flee and the Imperial army followed suit. The minor skirmishes with Saigo’s men culminated into a pincer attack on the Satsuma rebels. Koshijiro gritted his teeth and continued with striking through. To move forward, so this could be over as soon as possible. Suddenly, the line fell back, and he was perplexed for a moment, before the surrounding shouts alerted that there would be shelling. The order was to retreat, to gain as much distance for the explosions that would soon rock the battleground. Koshijiro didn’t even have to time to sheath his sword, the adrenaline humming under his skin, demanding to run as fast and far as he could. The men were tripping over each other and cursing, the fear and apprehension whittling their tempers.
A distant boom, then faint screams. Two steps later, it repeated, only closer. How much time did he have left? Koshijiro’s heart pounded out the tense seconds. A young soldier, barely older than Kaoru, stumbled to his right. Koshijiro switched his katana to his left hand and grabbed the boy’s collar. Using the momentum of his own body, he thrust the boy in front. “Take cover!” He bellowed.
Sound. It deafened him.
Force. His left arm, still outstretched behind him, twisted.
Heat. It seemed to split his skin open.
Pain. And that was enough for his eyes to roll back.
Forgive me, Kaoru-
***
He woke up, and he could hardly draw breath. He blinked. He had his sight. He was on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. The clamor of groaning men filled his ears. The smells of urine and blood were strong, and he didn’t dare open his dry mouth. He was in a hospital, a crowded one at that. For how long, he didn’t know.
I’m Kamiya Koshijiro, forty-five years old. I have a daughter, Kaoru, who is seventeen. We live in Tokyo. I work with the Tokyo Metropolitan police. I teach Kamiya Kasshin, the sword that protects.
There, his memory was intact. Although when he tried to remember what happened after the explosion, he couldn’t recall anything after the storm of sensation. He must have fainted. He twitched his fingers, his toes. No pain. He turned his head right. Well, his neck wasn’t broken, just stiff. Against his pillow, there was soft friction; the back of his head was bandaged. His right forearm bore the healing crust of a scrape, and he deduced he must have fallen on that side. But he could move his wrist and elbow joints, so there were no fractures. He checked the left-
Immediately, he jerked his head away. Shock kicked in. He didn’t have an arm. His left arm was gone. There was just wrapped white cloth, encasing the end of his shoulder. Then, why could he still feel it, down to the fingertips? He looked again, to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
He stared and stared and stared. He didn’t have an arm.
Distantly, he heard a nurse call out that he was awake, and footsteps approached. A doctor introduced himself before asking identifying questions. Koshijiro’s voice was raspy from disuse but he demonstrated he knew who he was. The doctor provided new details.
Koshijiro was in a hospital close to one of the harbors in Satsuma. A week had passed. The Imperial army was fighting on, with the last of the rebel forces weakened. Most of the province was back in the Emperor’s control and it would be a matter of weeks before Saigo surrendered. Reportedly, Koshijiro was found on the battlefield, alone and unconscious. When he was moved here, he had convulsed to reality and blood loss brought him under again.
Overall, he was in rough shape. The explosion had singed some of his hair off, and his skull had to be partially shaved. He had superficial burns on his back, that worsened on his left side. His right knee was swollen and abraded, and part of his big toenail was torn. His body bore minor cuts and bruises from landing. And he no longer had a left arm. The doctor actually had to remove more bone and tissue because what remained after the blast was not clean. But it was free from shrapnel and they could only do their best to prevent gangrene.
He was warned that there would be pain, that his body would not properly recognize that his left arm was gone. Multiple medicines were given to him, and his mouth gained a perpetual bitter taste. He slept in fits throughout his stay. All around him, other men were dying. He always noticed when another body was carried out.
A week passed, but he wasn’t quite healing. He forced himself to look at the dressings as they were changed, and they didn’t seem promising. He bitterly thought he couldn’t recover as well as he could in this place, but he had no say here. And then, one morning, he felt lethargic and his stomach sank in realization. A small part of him clung to hope that it would pass soon, but he forgot it as he became more and more delirious.
The hospital staff was saying he was feverish, and he groggily understood it was bad, because he felt so cold. Sleep was tempting. There was more medicine, more people hovering over him. He felt numb, it would be very easy to sleep forever. Too weak to struggle, his eyes closed.
He did not expect to dream.
He was sitting on the porch, the moon abnormally large and bright above. A quiet warm summer’s night. And he couldn’t see her, but he could feel Kyoko’s presence, as if she was standing behind him.
You’re so close.
I know. But not yet, Kyoko. I made a promise to you, didn’t I?
It was as if she was laughing, her breath warm against his neck. Then, please go home.
Yes. He couldn’t possibly disobey and he was swallowed once more by the void.
When he woke, his fever had broken. To the doctors’ surprise and awe, he had overcome the infection. He didn’t feel like it was miraculous at all; he had made promises and he intended to keep them. Once he heard his wounds were healed, he declared. “I’m leaving.” The response was dismissive, until he tried to leave his bed. He’d had enough of being in the hospital, he argued, and he’d heal more if he wasn’t restrained. That only sent him to another facility, with others in slightly better condition. From so much time on bedrest, he was frustratingly weak, and his legs shook underneath him when he attempted to walk around. But he pushed on, easily recalling a blue-clad figure with braids in her family’s yard, and conjuring a younger one, years later, who must be teaching in the dojo. Even if he no longer had one arm, he still had the other, his legs, and his head. That was good enough to get by. By the time he was discharged, the war had ended with Saigo’s suicide. His return home was overdue but winter’s approach undercut his pace. He was trying desperately not to get sick again.
The initial leg was frustratingly slow. He had no money, and any innkeeper dismissed his offer of labor. One benefit about his amputation was that it was noticeable, and kind strangers would grant him a night or two in a stable or on a fishing boat. But most people tended to avoid his gaze, so he did his best to keep moving. The new phantom pains were excruciating, his ghostly arm wrenching as it had in its final moments. Those incapacitating occasions, as well as his poor physical shape, forced him to rest often, to his chagrin.
He took one such break, on the wayside of a market street. He had managed to buy passage back to Honshu, though it meant he had to agree to a slight detour, since the port was not close to the main roads he recognized. This town was bustling with naval activity, thanks to the iron ships anchored in the dark water. The marine air was soothing, and the latest episode of pain ebbed with each deep breath.
“Ojii-san, where did your arm go?”
He startled, and in his periphery, a little boy stared at him with round eyes. There was a flood of emotion, but his most prominent thought was: I can’t tell this child it was blown off! “Well…” He searched for an appropriate thing to say. “I traded it.”
“For what?”
“So I could go home.”
A woman in her early thirties approached, holding the hand of a slightly older boy. “Sadatake! Oh, I’m so sorry.” The mother was so mortified, bowing her head multiple times. Her obi rested low, under the modest curve of her belly. “Sadatake, apologize to this uncle.”
“Sorry.”
“Please, don’t concern yourselves over it.”
She searched his face for a moment. “You look like you could use some rest and good food. Why don’t you come to our place? My husband wouldn’t mind at all.”
“I couldn’t impose.”
“No, I insist.” She pressed her palm on her rounded abdomen and smiled beatifically. The underlying message was not to upset her. “And my husband’s heading this way right now.” She directed her gaze over his shoulder, and he pivoted.
What he saw stunned him.
The man had plenty of silver in his hair, and his right leg dragged with each step, though the sleeping toddler draped over his shoulder didn’t help. Those fox eyes had regained their spark and framed by creases, they widened in recognition. “Kamiya? Kamiya Koshijiro?”
“Hayashi.” He shook his head at the incredulity of the moment, and he gestured to the site of his recent loss. “After all this time, I would certainly like to talk to you.”
The family led the way to a modest house, near Hayashi’s workplace at a naval office. The boys were young, having turned three, five, and seven, and they had just finished celebrating the milestone thrice over. Hayashi was a long way off from his former devastated self. Koshijiro felt a mixture of relief and sympathy as he watched his friend mind the little ones’ table manners at dinner.
“Sadakazu, here, move your cup away so you won’t spill it. Sadanori, wipe your mouth.” Even as he was speaking, he was already carrying out the actions, inspecting his youngest’s face one last time to ensure it was thoroughly clean. Hayashi’s wife fondly watched the spectacle, as Sadatake ate beside her.
The comfort of having a meal at a full table was a balm to Koshijiro’s weary spirit. After the dishes were cleared and the boys were sent to bed, despite their loud protests, Hayashi poured out two cups of warm sake. Koshijiro inhaled the fragrance, appreciating the liquor.
“Been saving up this bottle for a while, and I’m glad I did. I haven’t had the chance to drink in a while either.”
He took a sip. Just hot enough and very good indeed. “I didn’t know you’d become a family man.”
“I didn’t really expect to be one.” Hayashi admitted. “During the Bakumatsu, I was here, watching the troops travel past and trying not to feel useless. But Akie’s family clan sided with the Satcho alliance, and that’s how we met. There wasn’t much of a ceremony, because we married against her family’s wishes. I don’t blame them; I can still hardly believe she’d pick me. But before I could scare her off, the boys came along. Now it’s twins, so I hope at least one of them can convince the rest to be calm and kind to their old father.”
Koshijiro laughed. It was the first time in months, he realized, that he had. “You’ll miss some of it when they’re this young.”
“You have a family, don’t you? A daughter?”
“Yes, Kaoru is in Tokyo. Kyoko passed away, seven years ago.”
Hayashi’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. But you made her happy, anyone could see that. ”
Koshijiro chose not to reply, instead drinking from his cup.
“How old is your daughter now?”
“She’s seventeen.” He had missed her birthday. Discomfort spread through him.
“Damn, you’ll probably be marrying her off before the twins arrive.”
“Kaoru’s still young.”
“I was married to my first wife when I was younger than that.” Hayashi countered. “And it’s been months since you’ve been gone.”
Koshijiro frowned. “I need to return.”
“Ah, you haven’t changed much at all.” His friend grinned. “Maekawa’s in Tokyo too, right? Well, don’t tell him or anyone else yet that I’m here. I will, when I’m ready. Probably after Akie delivers.”
“I think they’d be glad to know you’re living well, but I understand.” The last of the alcohol was drained, and Hayashi thumped his back before urging him to retire. That night, he slept comfortably.
Before dawn broke, he intended to leave quietly, not to bother them anymore and to get a head start on his day. But he wasn’t as quiet as he hoped, for rustling noises carried over into the hallway. He tried to quicken his pace, but a door slid open.
“Gotcha.”
His sighed. “Good morning, Hayashi. And Akie-san.” The couple walked towards him with intent, Hayashi’s hand in his robe.
His friend clicked his tongue. “Good morning indeed. Were you trying to sneak away? How foolish, Kamiya. My wife’s hearing is not to be underestimated. Especially since we want to give you this.” He pushed a cloth bag into Koshijiro’s hand, the hefty weight studded with the metal ridges of the coins within.
“I can’t possibly accept. Please, keep this for your children.”
“They have plenty already. You, on the other hand, don’t have a naval secretary father, so take it.”
Akie added. “It’s a long road to Tokyo, especially when traveling alone. If you can find safety on a boat, a train, or even a cart, we’d be at ease knowing you have the means.” She then kept her voice low. “And I wanted to personally thank you. I know what you and your friends did for my husband, all those years ago, and it’s because of you that I have him. That I have my children and this life. I hope this is a fraction of what I owe you.”
His resistance crumbled. “…I promise not to squander it. In return, I hope you have a safe delivery.” He stepped out, to slip on his shoes.
Hayashi held his wife by the waist, to shield her from the morning chill, and raised his hand in farewell. “If you ever need anything else, let me know.”
“I will, and thank you. It was good to see you.” They bowed to one another, and he did not look back. His path was clear.
The days unfolded, one after another. At last, the surroundings became familiar, and every step took him towards the dojo, his school, and Kaoru.
***
In the first week of July, the Kyoto police informed them that Shishio and his followers had revealed themselves. Koshijiro was loath to miss an incoming message, and he remained at the station with the night shift, catching himself from nodding off until his sore neck forced him to trudge back to the empty house. The contingency plan was never far from his mind, even manifesting in his dreams. He was awake for good when the news came that Shishio’s ship was burning and falling to pieces off the shoreline. And then, there was another telegram within the hour.
“This one was specifically meant for you, Officer Kamiya.” The chief wryly said. “From your daughter.”
It was short but conveyed so much. WE WON. ALL SAFE.
If he was the type to dance, he could have danced all the way home. But he wasn’t, and ultimately, that meant he noticed that the lights were still on in Dr. Gensai’s clinic. When he knocked, Takani opened up, her eyes tired but offering a little smile when she recognized him. “Kamiya-san?”
“Yes, I have good news. The battle was won in Kyoto.” He showed her the telegram with pride.
“Really?” She exhaled in relief. “I’m so thankful. But it must have been difficult. I would like to see if they need care…”
“Then, let’s go. We’ll leave with the first train in the morning.”
“Just like that?” Takani laughed. “Well, I won’t argue. I’ll tell Dr. Gensai and get my supplies. See you in a few hours.”
He could hardly wait.
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drun-in-a-million · 4 years
Text
[ @little-justice And introducing @egan-first-of-his-name ]
Mefnan didn’t look anything like Drun had expected.
Then again, he wasn’t sure *what* he’d been expecting.
The planet was brilliant green, almost emerald, glowing brilliant against the dark backdrop of space. It was also very small, not looking much bigger than Earth’s moon. It almost seemed to glimmer and shine as they got closer. Drun felt his sydark pound. The voice was louder than it had ever been
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
“Mmm I can’t wait until we figure this out,” Ada said sleepily as she woke from her nap. She stretched, her back cracking a bit. “Just to get the voice to shut up and I can finally fucking sleep.”
Drun rolled his eyes. “Like you slept before- Ow!” He narrowed his eyes at his sister and rubbed his arm where she’d hit him. “I am driving you know?”
Ada scoffed. “Don’t be such a baby. You’ve had way worse than that.”
Drun couldn’t argue with that. He was Denivar, after all. Getting kidnapped frequently by various assholes came with the territory.
As they began to approach the atmosphere, the ship suddenly jolted sideways. The lights on the console began to flash repeatedly and a loud buzzing sound was coming from the dash.
“Um?! What is happening?!” Ada demanded, sitting back up in her seat.
Drun clutched onto the helm with a death grip, trying to steer the ship to no avail. It felt like something was literally trying to keep him from completely getting through the atmosphere of the planet. He growled. The voice was so loud. Desperate, even.
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
“DO SOMETHING, DRUN!” Ada shouted.
“I’m working on it!” Drun yelled back.He gave the helm a quick, violent jerk, forcing it forward and to the side. Finally the clouds of the atmosphere cleared, showing a large clearing in the middle of a forest. However, the ship continued to jostle and jump with turbulance, and he couldn’t seem to get it to come back up.
Shit.
“Hold on to something!” He told Ada, pressing a button to ensure they were fastened into their seats tightly.
Ada didn’t bother to argue, closing her eyes and bracing herself.
00000000000000
When Drun came to, he was still in his seat surrounded by rubble.
His antennae were ringing, not helping his aching head at all. He blinked a few times to try and shake the feeling off, grunting. There was something cold dripping down his face.
It was a struggle, but he managed to find his consciousness once more, especially when he began to hear a loud whimpering next to him. “Ada?” He blinked a few more times, trying to focus. Blood. There was blood. And… “Oh shit, Ada!”
For the most part his sister seemed fine, until you got down to her left ankle. It look almost twisted out of place, obviously broken. Something was sticking out of it, and it was covered in purple blood. Ada let out a painful cry followed by another whimper.
Drun sprung into action, ignoring the pain in his head as he quickly unfastened himself from his seat. “It’s okay. You’re okay we’ll find you some help.” He carefully unfastened her seat belt before gingerly scooping her up.
“Yeah, from where, genius?!” Ada snapped, only to cry out and sob when her ankle was jostled a bit from being picked up.
“There’s still people on this planet,” Drun told her. “I’m sure they have to have doctors or some-”
“Stop!”
Drun did as he was told, stopping at what remained of the door to his ship. He found himself surrounded by several people, all with deep blue skin and one eye. All of their eyes seemed to be the same shade of green, while their hair colors varied as much as humans’ did. He swallowed. “Hey, listen...we’re...we’re not here to cause an trouble we just-,”
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
At that moment Ada’s hands began to crackle and spark. Nothing shot out, just a bright glow of electricity around her fingers. A small flurry suddenly appeared above Drun’s head. He looked at the crowd nervously. A few of them had their elements on display, but none of them fluctuated like his and Ada’s suddenly did.
One of the older members of the crowd stepped forward, looking them up and down. He didn’t look quite as suspicious anymore, his gaze holding more of a cautious curiosity.
“Ozynite or Zehara?”
Drun’s brow furrowed. In all his research, he hadn’t heard those names. “I’m...I’m sorry?’
“The Call. You can hear it right?” the man asked. “It happens every so many years, but it can only be heard by the members of two families. So which one are you from?”
Drun shook his head. “I...I don’t know. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He heard Ada whimper again. She looked like she was about to pass out. “Listen...we just recently found out we were part Mefni. My sister is injured really bad. Can you please help her?”
The group exchanged looks for a moment before the leader gave a nod. “Okay. But not without answering some questions.”
Drun nodded. “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”
0000000000000
“Lazuroth, huh? You must be from the Zehara clan then,” the man (who was names Brix) told them after Drun told him about what had lead them here. “The head of it, Viggo, was captured for some time back by the queen.” He seemed to notice the horrified look on Drun’s face. “Don’t worry. We know there’s been a new queen in charge for years. We may look primitive, but we just like being more one with nature is all.”
Drun nodded as they entered the village. It was strange, towers of lit up dwellings spinning around the trees around them. The lights were of recent technology but for the homes themselves seemed to almost blend in with the wood of the large, tall trees. Brix led them to one of the bigger ones of the ground, which upon entry looked very much like the med bays Drun had become accustomed to. 
He carefully laid his currently unconscious sister on the nearest bed, where she was immediately surrounded by staff. One of the, a girl who looked to be around Ada’s age, tilted her head. “She’s cute.” 
“Rejika,” One of the older staff members scolded.
“I’m just saying!” Rejika replied. She looked back at Drun with a smile. “Your sister’s in good hands. Don’t worry.”
Drun nodded. “Thank you.” He turned back to Brix. “Could you like...explain what’s going on? You obviously know what this...Call is. But I...I don’t understand why it’s calling us or...anything else you just asked about.”
“Oh so that’s why you’re here,” Rejika said as she began placing an I.V catheter in Ada’s arm. “I was wondering why some strange aliens would be on our planet. We barely get people here for trades, let alone for some kind of vacation.”
Brix sighed, giving Rejika a look. Drun, however, was curious. “So you know about the Call, too?”
“Pfft. Everyone knows about the Call,” Rejika explained. “It’s just that only a few of us can hear it. Ooh! Which clan are you from, then?”
“Um…” Drun turned back to Brix. He had already forgotten.
“Zehara,” Brix replied.
“Really? Sweet!” Rejika replied. “My friend Lumi is from that clan. So I guess she’d be like...your cousin or something?”
Drun’s eyes widened and his antennae perked up. “Really? Do..do you know where I could find them?”
“Oh yeah they-”
Brix suddenly cleared his throat, silencing Rejika. He turned to Drun. “You have to keep in mind that...they may not want much to do with you considering...well considering who your grandmother is. Not to mention the Call comes they tend to haul up somewhere where they can muffle it. The Ozynites are the same way.”
Drun’s antennae drooped. “Well...can’t blame them for that. But...can you at least tell me what this is about. I just...why is my family being called at all.”
Brix sighed. “You sure you wanna know?”
“I’m positive. I...I’m supposed to be here. I just don’t know why.”
Brix looked up at Rejika, as if to tell her to get back to work. She sighed but went to completely focusing on Ada. Brix waved his hands and Drun watched with fascination as water flowed from them in different shapes around them. The began to form that of settings, buildings, people, moving around to Brix’s words.
“Several generations back, our planet was ruled by two clans. The Zeharas and the Ozynites. For years these clans were rivals, constantly finding any excuse to fight with one another. Until one day, a couple of new heads of the family came into power, deciding perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet.
They decided to arrange a marriage between the oldest Ozynite daughter and the second oldest Zehara son. A few people showed concerned, because the bride possessed the most unpredictable and rare element of our kind.” His water turned orangey red and rippled around. “Fire.”
Drun blinked. “Is it really?” He suddenly thought of Addie, and her ability to change flame into different colors.
Brix nodded. “Yes. However, the Ozynites assured the Zeharas that the bride had impeccable control of her powers, and that any offspring the two had would most definitely be strong and powerful.
“At first, it seemed the match was prepared well. The bride and groom got along swimmingly, and it seemed there would be finally be peace between these warring clans. However, it was not to be.
“The day before the wedding, the groom was found burnt to death at the feet of the would be bride.”
Drun actually gasped. Yes, it sounded like some old tale that probably had some kind of meaning to it or whatnot, but that actually had shocked him. He never thought of his sister’s powers as any more or less dangerous than his own. “Did...did she lose control.”
Brix shrugged. “Some say yes. Some say it was intentional. Either way it sparked a battle that lasted for days. The bride herself nearly killed so many people during before finally being subdued.
“Ever since then, even after both clans lost the power they had to time, they have never tried to reconcile again. Not that they fight in the street, persay. But they’re not inviting each other over for dinner or anything.”
“Heck, during this time we don’t see members of either family,” Rejika said, finally done getting Ada hooked up to her pain meds, nanites, and antibiotics. “The Call can be pretty overwhelming. At least that’s what Lumi tells me.”
“That story doesn’t explain why there’s a Call in the first place. Why is it calling? Who is it?”
“No one knows,” Brix replied. “Some say that ever since that great battle that because so many Mefni were slain that day, it created an imbalance and the Call is sort of a punishing reminder of what the families caused.”
Drun frowned. That...didn’t seem right. This couldn’t be just some..punishment of sorts caused by his ancestors. At least...it certainly didn’t feel like it. No...something was calling him to action. He could feel it in his bones.
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
His antennae perked back up and he found himself looking over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s in that direction?” Drun asked.
Brix and Rejika exchanged glances before the girl answered. “It’s where the town of Madej once stood-”
‘Rejika!” Brix scolded.
“Look. I know you old folk like to pretend that any inconvenience will just pass on it’s own, but you can’t deny the way the erratic the weather has been! The rivers running backwards? How it will snow in one place but not five feet away it’ll dry up and catch fire.” She narrowed her eye. “The planet has been out of balance for years because two families decided to just kill one another! And honestly, if he thinks he can stop then, hell, let him!”
“There is nothing to stop. This isn’t some curse to be broken! We simply all just need to be more devout in our offerings and-,”
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You clearly haven’t been around someone when they’re hearing the Call. You ever have to stay up all night with someone while they cry and beg and pray and wish it would stop? Hmm? Didn’t think so.”
Drun couldn’t help but look over back at his sister. She seemed so peaceful right now, asleep and resting. He was glad they’d found people to help her. He was not like his mother. He had no idea how to deal with a splinter let alone a broken ankle. He was suddenly reminded of how she was acting when they’d finally decided to come here. “Make it stop. How do we make it stop?”
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
Drun took a deep breath, rising to his feet. “Do you mind keeping an eye on my sister while I’m gone? She’ll probably be mad I left her, but she can’t come with, obviously.”
“You can’t possibly be serious-,”
“I have to know why I’m here. Why the Call crossed over galaxies and star systems to make sure my family heard it, too.” He looked to Rejika. She seemed like she’d be more help. “I could use a map or something to help me get to Madej. Or where it used to be, I guess.”
Rejika pulled out her phone. “I can give you the coordinates Will that be enough?”
Drun beamed. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem!” She shot a quick look at Ada before giving Drun a grin. “So...is your sister single?”
0000000000000000
Meanwhile, on the other side of the ash ridden valley that was once the town of Madej, a young half-Mefni found himself sneaking around the small town he’d found himself in, scouring for supplies and information. He’d heard how feared and mistreated fire users are, so he knows if he’s caught, it could spell his doom.
He had to find the town of Madej. That was where the voice was coming. That was where the answers would be.
He could only hope that his mother and father didn’t become too angry at him for taking off...
Ah ahh ah ahhh~
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sister-ruan · 4 years
Text
Smallpox and Voodoo
“We found a voodoo doll in Lady Ye Xiu’s room with Imperial Noble Consort Nian’s name on it,” the eunuch held up the doll carefully.
“What?!” Ye Xiu’s face contorted in shock, “My room?!”
“How dare you!” The Imperial Noble Consort scolded, “What have I ever done to you?!”
“Silence!” The Emperor snapped, “I will not tolerate this behavior!”
“Indeed,” Meili-Jin mused, “What a silly trick.”
“Pardon?” The Empress asked, arching a brow, “You seem knowing.”
“Nothing special,” Meili-Jia said before taking the doll, “It’s just a silly trick. This isn’t a real voodoo doll, but some makeshift rush job someone made to scare us and divert our attention.”
“Oh? How do you know it’s fake?” Nian asked, brushing a hair from her face.
“In the village I grew up in, there was a local witch who liked to tell the children her tricks,” Meili-Jia explained, “To properly perform voodoo, one must make the doll using the target’s hair and or blood.” She took a pin out of her hair before looking at the doll.
“W-Wait! If it’s real-!” Meili-Jia didn’t wait for the Imperial Noble Consort to finish, using the pin to cut open the doll. Everyone held their breath, looking between Consort Virtue and the Imperial Noble Consort.
Meili-Jia pulled out the stuffing, no more than wool.
“Anyone would be foolish to harm Imperial Noble Consort Nian,” she said, tossing the doll at the woman’s feet, “Especially with her being pregnant. Ye Xiu is childish, but no fool. If she did make this, then she was forced and given a time limit. She didn’t have the time to look into how to make a proper doll. This is a poor attempt at scaring everyone and diverting our attention.”
“Divert?” The Emperor asked, “What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it a bit odd? Beiyu comes down with smallpox and in the same day his mother is accused of voodoo?” Meili-Jia asked, “Ye Xiu is being set up, and so is her son.”
“This is all speculation,” The Empress sighed, “Why would someone set her up?”
“You tell me,” Consort Virtue asked, “With your First Prince Beiyan dead, Beiyu is the eldest son of His Majesty. And even with Imperial Noble Consort expecting, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine Ye Xiu receiving enough favor from His Highness to rival even you. But if Ye Xiu is disposed of, even if Beiyu survives both you and Imperial Noble Consort will maintain your positions.”
“You’re saying this is a ruse, but isn’t it strange that you have knowledge of witchcraft?” Nian asked, trying to calm herself, “Who’s to say you didn’t do it?”
“Why would I bring forth my knowledge if I were guilty?” Meili-Jin countered, “Ye Xiu is my sister, and even if we disagreed, I cannot stand idly by as she is tortured.” There was a moment when no one spoke. Meili-Jia went to where Ye Xiu knelt, sobbing into her hands. She gently helped her up, straightening her hair. “The inner robes were made with material originally owned by the Empress and then given to me. I’m sure between when I made the robes and now, they were tampered with. After all, Beiyu is a few months old, children wear clothes more than once,” she spoke softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear, “If I had done something before I gave Ye Xiu the robes, both she and Beiyu would be sick.”
“Beside being grief stricken over her son, Ye Xiu seems fine,” Daijia observed, “Being around Beiyu, shouldn’t she be sick?”
“She and whoever else handled the clothing,” Meili-Jia nodded, “But I’m not knowledgeable of viruses besides smallpox being contagious. How could someone transport something like that into a place like here?”
“If someone were to put the bodily fluids of a person with the virus into a container, it may make it easy to transport,” the Imperial Physician said, “If the container is clean, the person can transport it without being sick.”
“Of course!” Guard Liwei exclaimed, “We were taught that biological warfare is often how battles between foreign nations are done quietly. Such a thing has been done before.”
“How convenient,” Meili-Jia smiled, “Imperial Noble Consort Nian, isn’t your brother one of the leading generals in the Emperor’s army?”
“What are you implying?” Suyan asked, “By having the virus here, I could be infected too! My brother wouldn’t want my baby to die!”
“But you’d benefit the most from this,” Ruyan agreed, “With the first prince dead and Beiyu out of the way, all you’d need to do is have a prince.”
“Your Highness, they’re picking on me!” Suyan looked the the emperor, “I came to check on my sister and nephew and I get accused of!”
“Be honest, you came to watch Ye Xiu be destroyed,” Daijia looked coldly, “Between having the means of transporting a deadly virus and a false voodoo doll with your name on it, how could you not be seen as the culprit?”
“That’s enough!” Lingchen snapped, “We’re spending too much time pointing fingers and not enough time finding a cure! My son’s life is on the line.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Meili-Jia said softly, “I apologize for leading this. I just feel for Ye Xiu, no mother should go through this.”
“That’s very compassionate of you,” the Empress nodded, “Despite you two not getting along, you stand up for her.”
“Well, let’s not linger much longer,” the Imperial Noble Consort decided, “We don’t want the virus to spread unnecessarily.” With a murmur of agreement, the group left.
“Sister Ruan, wait,” Ye Xiu said, grabbing Consort Virtue’s sleeve, “Why…? Why did you stand up to me? When Consort Peace was alive, I was nothing but cruel to you.”
“Like I said, we’re sisters,” Meili-Jia said, “We may bicker and sometimes treat each other poorly, but we must stand together when others put us in danger.”
“But I wouldn’t have done that for you…” Ye Xiu wiped her tears on her sleeve, “I would have just watched.”
“Then let this be a lesson,” Meili-Jia offered her handkerchief, “In this world where we all struggle to stand out to the Emperor and kingdom, sometimes our greatest weapon is kindness.”
“I am in your debt… sister…”
Authors Notes:
WOOOOOOOOOOOO! I’ve been wanting to write something with Meili-Jia for a while! I’ve always felt badly that Ye Xiu was punished while her son was left as a ransom tool. And the male plot shows a good scenario to mess with!
For those who are wondering Liwei is Ling Ruo and Yilan’s brother. He’s actually pretty quiet and doesn’t talk very much. Not because he doesn’t have anything to say, but because he likes to observe more than interact. Unlike Meili-Jia who jumps in whenever something is amiss (well... not all the time.) Also, Meili-Jia’s thoughts about Suyan protesting against opening the doll? “It’s probably not real so whatever. And if it is? Eh, you dying wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be worth being killed.”
So, yeah! I hope you guys enjoyed!
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sometimesrosy · 5 years
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Personally, what bothered me about the season 3 Bellamy massacre of the grounders was not the fact that it happened, or that it was OOC (it was very much in character IMO) but that a) it was too rushed; Bellamy required little to no convincing, b) it resulted from a lack of communication between Polis and Arkadia more than anything else, and c) it was never really addressed much after it happened. Bellamy isn't punished at all for what he did, besides being beat up by Octavia.
I disagree with your assessment of Bellamy’s lead up into the massacre and the results after.
There was a CLEAR development of Bellamy being pushed too far by the grounders and swallowing it and accepting it because Kane told him he should. Because Octavia did. Because Clarke did. He had a break when MW blew up, when Gina died, when Clarke turned her back on him. It triggered his trauma from MW, and since all of s3 stems from the trauma of s2 (caused by Lxa I might add,) it is in NO WAY rushed. It is sustained.
In fact, it goes back to season ONE. But Arkadia decided to be allies with the grounders because that was the “right” thing to do. Except the grounders kept BETRAYING them. Lxa SOLD them to MW. And then kept them confined to Arkadia, not allowed to travel, trade or even use MW as a resource or residence, despite it NOT being the grounders, and THEIRS by fair right of victory. What right did Lxa have to keep them from living in a perfectly sustainable mountain that no one else claimed? Arkadia had no FOOD. They had no defenses. And here was MW, and they weren’t allowed? And when they DO go to use it, the grounders attack. And that wasn’t even JUST the Azgeda, because there was a whole discussion about how they would attack if sky crew USED too much of the mountain they won. 
Go back and watch again and pay attention to the way the grounders were oppressing sky crew. To keep them weak. And defenseless. And THEN Clarke, who has been KIDNAPPED and held as a hostage, and Kane, who has been making concession after concession to the people who betrayed them and left them all to die, decides that everything is okay, including the attack on MW and massacre of farm station, because she and Lxa took care of it? 
What did they take care of? Lxa’s political problems. What she did for sky crew was make life MORE dangerous for them. She set up an armed and dangerous army right there. Within easy reach. The only way it’s safe is if they can trust Lxa not to betray them and turn on them again. Which they cannot. ALL the grounders agree that Lxa has no honor, has treated sky crew badly, and is making poor political decisions. ALL of them. Warriors, villagers, ambassadors, counselors. Every grounder with an opinion thinks Lxa is wrong and not trustworthy in season 3. 
When have the grounder alliances NOT ended up in grounders trying to kill sky crew. No really. When did the coalition not try to destroy their people. NEVER. They never stopped doing it. And they started when Jasper swung across the river. BEFORE any signal flares caught fire. They hung him up. As bait. As a trap. As a message?
So when you say Bellamy’s decision was too fast and he needed no convincing, I have to think you’ve forgotten the narrative where grounders, the coalition, trikru, and Lxa KEEP TRYING TO ELIMINATE THEM. You also ignore the psychological manipulation of Pike, which is actually so obvious you could call it grooming. Pike WORKED Bellamy, who had just had a terrible shock. Pike wanted vengeance, and he wanted Bellamy on his side to get it.
And when you say he was’t “punished” for his actions, oh yeah except for being vicuously beaten, because well that doesn’t COUNT apparently, you aren’t paying attention to the narrative which keeps bringing up Hakeldama, far more than it brings up Lxa betraying Clarke and the delinquents at MW, or their attack on the dropship. No one even MENTIONS how they poisoned Arkadia’s watersupply, along with blockading them. Season 3A is like, completely shadowed by grounder attempts to wipe sky crew out of existence. And it’s like you don’t even notice. But instead say BELLAMY wasn’t punished for the TERRIBLE act of following Pike in the Hakeldama massacre.
We even have a witness, Indra. Who says that Bellamy actively tried to stop it and keep Pike from going so far, and saved her life, and you’re still blaming BELLAMY like he had no right to defend his people against the people who were trying to kill him and whose presence felt like a threat.
YES. He was wrong. YES. There was no communication between Pike and Polis, but part of that was because when Kane WAS in communication, he ended up conceding EVERYTHING. Pike made the point that the brand that they got in joining the coalition was a lot like the brand you give cattle before slaughter. 
Kane messed up. He didn’t consider the fear and stress of his people. He spent too much time wanting Lxa to like them and accept them and gave up too much of their power. Arkadia voted Kane OUT, by a landslide, because they wanted to stop being at the mercy of the grounders, WHO WERE ACTIVELY WEAKENING THEM AND KEEPING THEM TRAPPED. 
I would say that the narrative didn’t tell you this so you missed it BUT THE NARRATIVE DID TELL YOU THIS. We heard it with the boundaries they weren’t allowed to cross. We heard it with the limits place on using MW. We heard the dangerous decision they had to make to use MW to save Nyko or let him die. We heard about when Farm Station started living in MW and they were concerned about how Polis wouldn’t like it. We heard about it when Bellamy and the delinquents were off on a mission and they had to be careful about crossing boundaries and they were worried that the incident where they killed the grounders who attacked them might cause another war. We heard about it where the grounders had a price on Clarke’s head. We heard about it when the grounders killed arkadians and brought their heads back as messages. We heard about it when the lake was poisoned. 
So, when you act like Polis were the good guys who wanted peace and Arkadia were the bad guys who just wanted to kill the good guys… WHO are you listening to? Lxa may have wanted peace, but her peace required domination of everyone else. This is not actual peace. It’s OPPRESSION. Her solution of killing Nia was for HER benefit. She got rid of her rival. It did NOTHING for Arkadia. It did not make up for what they did to Farm Station or what they were doing to Arkadia, or what they did to the delinquents. Clarke wanted Lxa’s help. She wanted Lxa to stop killing her people, to be friends. Lxa was NEVER going to be real allies with the sky people because she wanted them to remain without power. THAT’S why she didn’t let them take possession of MW, even though it would have solved territory problems. It was because the stability and technology of MW would have given the sky people POWER over the grounders. Lxa was not a peacemaker. She was a tyrant. And Kane and Clarke were trying to make nice with her and it did not work. 
And then you say that Bellamy was somehow the one responsible for Hakeldama? 
That was PIKE. IN CANON. First of all, the grounders ALWAYS give credit and blame to the leader. Thats why Clarke is given credit for defeating MW, not Bellamy. Because she’s the leader. Credit and blame. Bellamy was a soldier in Pike’s attack. Pike is the one who was punished. He was the chancellor and he was the general leading the attack. He was REMOVED from power… by Bellamy, I might add, and given to the grounders and imprisoned and tortured by Indra (who, I might add, has come to terms with Bellamy in s3 s4 and s5 and has now forgiven him.) He was also killed by Octavia. So, I mean, if you’re going by the grounders’ view point, since it was a crime against the grounders, then you should be following the GROUNDERS’ rules for it. Pike. Not Bellamy.
I don’t understand why you’re acting like Bellamy had no reason to do what he did. Held all the blame for the hakeldama massacre, and hasn’t been punished for it, despite an actual on screen, brutal beating, capture, blame from Niylah and another slap, condemnation by Kane, his mentor, clear and continued regret and active decision making from then on out where he is not only determined to make amends for what he’s done, but to change his behavior, be a better man, and MAKE SURE OTHER PEOPLE DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE. 
He had a scene in s3 where he learned his lesson and tried to impart it onto Octavia. He had a scene in s4 where he tried to impart that lesson onto Riley and succeeded. ANd a scene in s5 where he taught Madi that killing and vengeance was not how you made a better world.
I mean, the grounders run around blaming sky people for EVERYTHING. Even things that are their own fault, like the attack on the drop ship leading to the ring of fire. Like they want to wipe out all skypeople because of something that was created 100 years ago, by their first commander even. Sky people come up with solutions to a global catastrophe, and they’re still like, no we’re going to kill all of you. But you think BELLAMY doesn’t get punished enough. 
So wait. You think blood must have blood should be the way it works. Although Hakeldama was retaliation for MW. So it WAS blood must have blood. ONly. If you believe in blood must have blood, what you will have is a never ending cycle of violence. Because you’re ALWAYS trying to get retribution.
What I suggest is actually, instead of trying to understand why Bellamy was so wrong, you STOP trying to place blame on one person or another, stop trying to decide who the bad guy is, and start trying to understand what the cause of Hakeldama was, and what the results were, and what that string of events led to.
And then you might notice Bellamy trying to halt that string of events, whose causes went ALL THE WAY BACK to the first apocalypse and before, and continue ALL THE WAY into the season we haven’t seen yet. 
Blood must have blood is NOT a good philosophy. It leads to destruction. Doing it for your people is not a good philosophy. It leads to xenophobia, war, and dehumanization of the other. I bear it so they don’t have to is not a good philosophy. That leads to people refusing responsibility for their own actions. Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things is not a good philosophy, because it means you believe the ends justify the means and your current evil actions do not define you. ALL WRONG.
And Bellamy learned that in s3, because of Hakeldama, and he’s been trying to change the world since then. And in season 5 we see him succeed, and set the world on a BETTER path.
So. 
You actually need to think deeper, I think. Because what personally bothers you comes from a shallow reading of the essential meaning of this show. It IS about doing the right thing. And it’s about taking responsibility for your monster. And it’s about making sure that humanity deserves to survive, and at this point, only Bellamy has managed to learn that lesson and influence other people to change the world around him. 
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tomatosaucek · 5 years
Text
hey so this might just be a shitty post but I was watching Naruto shippuden ed 11 and I couldn't help but start to analyze it a bit.
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In it we see Naruto as a child crying but slowly getting happier as he gains more people/bonds in his life. Yet the expression on his older self seems so somber and serious. I feel like anyone can connect his expression here to his determination to get Sasuke back in his life but I felt like I needed to state it. Despite Sasuke leaving the village his child self remains in the ending during Naruto's section. That alone shows how despite defecting from konoha Naruto still views Sasuke as an important bond in his life that he can't let go of and even though he has other bonds his expression of sadness/seriousness won't deter and turn to a happier one until he's saved Sasuke. We know Naruto values bonds and wants to be acknowledged by everyone in konoha yet he wont be truly content until Sasuke himself acknowledges him and I think that shows just how strong their bond truly is.
Sasuke on the other hand.
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I feel like his expression here is sure and steady. He doesn't look sad, the way the line of his mouth is drawn is actually going upwards and I don't know if that's just how they drew his side profile and weren't actually going for a small smile or not. But it looks like that.
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He closes his eyes as well perhaps to reflect on his past and the bonds he discarded. Yet Naruto remains in his mind as the only bond he couldn't and truthfully didn't want to sever. Sasuke seems content to only have a bond with Naruto and I think that captures the twos clashing ideologies very well. Naruto puts value in having many bonds while Sasuke considers them a weakness. However, the exception to both their ideologies is each other. Having many bonds still doesnt seem enough to Naruto if his bond with Sasuke is severed. In his mind he's choosing one bond, making his relationship with Sasuke have more value than the rest of his relationships throughout the show. We see this in Sasuke too who finds bonds are a weakness that incapacitates people from achieving their full potential and he is able to drop all other ties except the ones he has with Naruto. In part 1 of Naruto he made the decision not to destroy their bond and I truly think he was content with that decision and comprised his own ideologies because of how important Naruto is to him.
So yeah if you wanna break this post down to its bare bones. Sasuke seems fine with only having Naruto as his important bond, we see this reaffirmed for us near the end of Shippuden when both Naruto and Sasuke think they have died and Sasuke seems content to stay there with Naruto.
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We see him smile and he looks at least a little at peace. If I remember right he even brings up the fact that Kakashi and Sakura could handle or do something. And as much as Naruto tries to cover up his own similar feelings with excuses that not only does he miss Sasuke but konoha and Sakura miss him just as much as well. We can later see these are just what I stated earlier: excuses. because during the half point of Shippuden everyone has given up on Sasuke except Naruto. The excuse that he's trying to keep his bond with Sasuke and save him for Sakura and Konoha arent valid anymore because they want him dead. Naruto even admits to Sakura he isnt trying to save Sasuke due to the promise he made to har in part 1. This shows to me that in reality Naruto would have never been content or happy if he didnt compromise/make up/save whatever you wanna call it with Sasuke at the end of vote2 .
As an added bonus because I just keep adding/re editing this post. I found some gifs with the ed song lyrics during the two parts I was looking into.
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During Naruto's scene the words playing are Sasuke's feelings and vice versa. In part 1 the thing that held Sasuke back, at least what he feels later on that held him back, was his bond with Naruto. Yet he still could never bring himself to sever it. The lyrics conveying Naruto's feelings, we already know he wants to see Sasuke. He's always wishing they were together and we see with these two scenes coming into the ed one after the other that they are looking towards each other and saying these things to each other and their expression might very well be their subsequent reactions to the words being said to them by the other through the song.
Ultimately: Their bond with each other is on an entirely different level when compared to everyone else in the show and Kishimoto probabaly didn't mean for it to get this out of hand but it does and to be honest I kind of prefer this dynamic between them of having such a strong and transedant bond. Their relationship and dynamic is unlike any other shounen rivals I've ever seen in fact even outside of shounen I haven't seen much like it and I think that's one of the reasons Naruto remains so popular even today. The show wasn't supposed to be nearly this deep and I'm probably grossly over analyzing a single ending scene but I think the show becomes this complex mostly thanks to Naruto and Sasuke's relationship. I think Kishimoto was smart to make it the driving force in Shippuden and people drag on him alot but this is one of the aspects he got right.
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charbax · 5 years
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The Long Hunt Behind
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ash/Tyra (Paladins) Characters: Ash (Paladins), Tyra (Paladins) Additional Tags: viktor is mentioned lol, dense lesbians: the fic, Mutual Pining, fun fact: the gesture in this fic is the ASL for lesbian lmao, every mission becomes a date when ur with ur date lmao, Hunting, First Kiss, Special interest talking, (the special interest is hunting), pre-game, Pre-War, sentinels era, Awkwardness, Feelings Realization Summary: 
Over the past year or so, Tyra's crush on Ash has slowly but surely been building up slowly, accumulating to a Magistrate mission of just the two of them to the edge of civilisation. It would be the perfect oppurtunity to profess her love to Ash...if Ash had been picking up the signs. Sadly, it seems that she's only interested in being friends with Tyra, but at least Tyra can spend some time with her long time crush. Although, those feelings were not as unreturned as she assumed.
(Commission for @lumenizampel!)
Click here for AO3 link
word count: 1793
The thing is, Tyra’s used to being the forward one – there’s a small sense of satisfaction when a girl Tyra’s chatting up shyly brushes some hair behind an ear. Though, she hasn’t been flirting anyone else for the previous year or so, just the one, seemingly oblivious, self-titled ‘War Machine’. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, that’s for sure.
She’s done the song and dance: asking out for drinks, trying to get to know Ash better when they had some time together (whether in the barracks or the mess hall or in the presence of others), and laying on as many moves as she could without coming off as creepy.
(A memorable exchange between her and Viktor as it followed:
“You even tried the-?” Viktor held his right hand in an ‘L’ shape, palm facing his chin.
Tyra nodded destitutely.
“...maybe she was raised away from society? How did she not recognise that?”)
But so far, it was met with nothing but polite confusion. It wasn’t Ash’s sign of outright denial, which Tyra would know by the narrowing of her eyes and her twisted scowl. Rather, it was acknowledged with knitted brow, then the moment would pass like it never happened. And as Tyra had mentioned before, this had been going on for the previous year without very little changing, and she doesn’t think its going to change now, when there’s a mission that sends them to the fringes of civilisation with only the two of them.
Normally it would be the Sentinals sent on missions like this, but this had called for a hunter’s touch, for the creature was skittish and more prone to escape capture if there were more than two people at a time. And Ash proved a fearsome powerhouse in case the creature wasn’t skittish at all. Some of the more popular rumours speculated that Ash was more machine than human. Those rumours were also very fond of painting Ash as driven, bossy, and angry.
Although, she seemed content to follow Tyra’s orders the moment they walked deeper into the forest. Hell, even before that she was was more or less sharing the decision-making with Tyra. Tyra’s worked with the War Machine, and she was indeed a ‘War Machine’ (hah) on the battlefield, so this development was slightly weird, but not altogether unwelcome. Besides, it gave Tyra an excuse to keep glancing at Ash’s profile when she wasn’t looking.
“So uh,” Tyra started, because she has no sense of self social preservation. “Nice day for a day, huh?”
Immediately, Tyra wants to kick herself. A nice day for a day? Who the hell says that? People who like to stick their foot into their mouths apparently, which now includes Tyra. But all Ash does is grunt. “Been nice for the last few days too.”
At least Ash was making conversation now. So Tyra fell back onto one of the things she knew well – hunting. “It’s good. It will be easier to track the creature without the rains or winds blowing away any of their tracks.”
Ash looked around. “Dunno. I see a whole lotta nothing from here.”
“There’s signs all around us, clear as anything.” Tyra pointed at where the bush parted. “Something bigger than your average boar came through here. If it was one, then the tusks would’ve left marks on the lower portion of the tree trunks. But look.” Her finger followed the tree to the upper parts. “Scratches. Broken branches. Around Gorlock height too. Even if they’re nasty when angered, Gorlocks are slow creatures when travelling. This one’s most likely a loner looking for a herd to integrate into.”
“Just the one?”
“If there were more, there wouldn’t be much of a village left.”
Ash shook her head, her words brusque, but her tone genuine. “How do you see all of that in this place?”
Compliment or not, Tyra ducked her head in embarrassment, hoping the flush in her cheeks didn’t show too starkly against her face paint. “I just do. Practice. It’s nothing really. Anyway, we’re on the right track. The Gorlock might’ve been resting for a few days already. The window of opportunity narrows.”
“Lead the way Tyra.”
But instead of continuing following the tracks like she was meant to, Tyra paused. “I want to...clear up something, first.”
Ash frowned at her, leaning on her canon. “Is it about the monster?”
“No?”
“…did I make you upset? Was it something I said?”
“What? No! Why would you think that?”
“Dunno. That’s the only reason I can think of.” Ash said, averting her gaze, uncharacteristically passive. A normal Ash would’ve brushed off the question, or even simply answered it with brute honesty, and Tyra was struck by the sudden realisation that Ash was...nervous. Nervous about what? The hunt? Being alone on a mission with Tyra?
“It’s not that either.” Tyra started. “But I thought we should clear the air before we continue. Dissonance in hunting groups can mean the difference between successfully bagging the creature and not returning at all.”
(Viktor would be so proud of her right now, going on about keeping the peace in the pack. She could see his grin even now, in her mind's eye.)
“Sure.”
Tyra took a deep breath. “What are we?”
“Two soldiers on a mission.” Ash answered bluntly, on par.
“Not only that. What do you see in me?”
Silence filled the forest. Even the birds seemed to have stopped in response, as if holding their breath in anticipation as well. Tyra forced her head higher when Ash gazed at her, expression unreadable. Not angry, not mad, just difficult to parse. Ash bit her lower lip in thought. Tyra couldn’t but be drawn to the flash of white teeth. She forced her gaze back up when Ash finally spoke.
“We’re...I don’t have any quarrels with you. I think we get along well. I think you’re nice to me.”
Tyra heart fell. Maybe she had been mistaken this entire time – it wouldn’t be implausible, no, especially with Tyra’s brash view. Maybe she really had been reading too much every time they hung out.
“No-one’s really that nice to me before. It’s good to have a friend.”
And there it was, the f-word (which was not as fun as her other, more favoured f-word). Friend was fine, however. A little of Ash company in a non-romantic sense was just as good, and it was better than none at all. She’ll cherish whatever time they have together, because it was not just anyone, it was Ash-
“Even if that’s all you want me to be.”
Tyra stared at Ash, blinking. Those were not the words of a friend, and they definitely not the words of a soldier strengthened by the bonds made in war. “...are you saying...you thought I was just friendly this entire time? I was hitting on you!”
Ash glanced sharply at her. “Wait. So all that stuff – talking, getting drinks with me, going on missions together – was because you were interested?”
“Yeah, I even did the thing! Y’know, the...hand sign thing.”
“Does that mean anything?”
Oh. Well, at least that explained why Ash didn’t do anything but smile confusedly at Tyra when she did it.
Tyra continued. “That’s not important. What is important is that yes, I was hitting on you because I wanted to be more than friends, but I thought you weren’t interested.”
Now there was definitely a blush on Ash’s face, rivalling the deep red of her dyed hair. “Not many people want to hang out with me in the first place.”
Some of Tyra’s incredulity eased out of her at that admission. That made sense, she guessed, if she had been trying to make moves on someone who never knew those moves existed in the first place. But talking seemed to work faster than all those months of posturing, so Tyra laid a hand on Ash’s shoulder and said, “Well. I’d like to. Maybe over drinks if this hunt goes well.”
(Nailed it.)
“I’d...like that.” Ash answered stiffly. But she wasn’t shaking off the hand, or even grabbing it and using it as leverage to throw Tyra over her shoulder. Small steps, Trya reminded herself. After all, they went from ‘co-worker who I like and get along with but absolutely would like to get to know better’ to ‘I guess we are dating’.
Then Ash’s face shifted into business again. “But we should probably focus on the mission first.” She moved and Tyra’s hand fell from her shoulder – not unkindly, just out of necessity, which Tyra understood. Right. The whole reason why they were here, in the middle of the forest. Tyra readied her rifle again just as Ash picked up her cannon, and the hunter smiled a wild grin at Ash.
“I also have a bit of a tradition; a kiss from a beautiful maiden before a hunt to bring luck.” She tapped her cheek for emphasis.
Judging by the combined glare and return of Ash’s blush, that line was cheesy enough to work. But all bravado disappeared as Ash moved closer. She hurriedly stammered out, “But that’s just a tradition, you don’t have to...”
Ash’s lips silenced the rest of Tyra’s sentence. It was less of a kiss and more of a gentle mash of Ash’s mouth on her own, but it still sent a thrill straight to her stomach. Surprisingly, it was a lot more...more than any kiss she’s ever had in the past. Even if it’s only their lips touching, which Tyra rectified by guiding Ash’s hand onto her own hip, while laying a hand on Ash’s shoulder. Yeah, much better.
Tyra’s lips were still tingling when they parted. “There. For luck.” Ash said. Or Tyra thought she said. She was too busy admiring the honeyed brown of Ash’s eyes, the immaculate precision of her eyeliner. She never had simply been close enough to Ash’s face to see the details until now.
And then Ash was already moving ahead, head bowed slightly, all shy again. But the difference now was that Ash’s dyed hair could hide the rising blush that had spread to the very tip of her ears.
It struck Tyra then, that she knew the difference between an angry storming off Ash, and one who was simply trying to drive away the last of her embarrassment through sheer will alone. Though to be fair, Tyra reflected as she traced her lips with a finger, Ash wasn’t the only one.
So she laughed and called out, “Do you even know where you’re going?” as she jogged after Ash. “The gorlock is in the other direction!”
She normally didn’t take partners hunting on the first date, but she’ll make an exception.
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zach-the-fox · 4 years
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Tribal Furs Episode 4: Kindness
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Sally emerges from her hut, arms stretching and yawning. She walks past the two blue wolves as she exits the village.
“Yo, Sally,” Niji utters. He and the other wolf follow her. “Had a good night last night? I did. I had a wonderful dream that I was in bed with one of my hot wives.”
“They aren’t your wives if they’re fake,” Cole adds. “You should focus on getting a real woman.”
The rainbow wolf growls at him. “Quiet, you.”
“Don’t start,” Sally interrupts. She stops by the river and kneels to the water. “I don’t need to hear fighting between you two.” Putting her paws together, she scoops the clear liquid into her paws and takes a drink. “Now, when we go out on our walk, I expect the both of you to-” She pauses, noticing something drifting toward her in the top corner of her eyes. The dog tilts her head to the object and makes out a wood-woven basket full of goodies inside. “Huh…? What’s this?” Reaching out, she touches the platform the basket’s nestled on and pulls it closer, then takes it out.
Cole leans closer to the rottweiler. “What do you have, Sally?”
“Is that a basket?” asks Niji.
Sally turns to him. “No, it’s a bunch of Loopy Lilac for you from your wives, Niji.”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny…”
Sally looks inside to see it’s fully stocked with cheeses, meats, and breads along with a hand-carved sculpture of herself. Looking further, she can spot a knife, beautifully-crafted to suit the needs of a hunter as well as delicate-woven bracelets and jewelry. “What…?” Her eyes then notice a paper note inside with the inscriptions, “to Sally” written on it. Sally takes the note up. “What’s this?”
“Whoa, Sally someone loves you,” comments Cole.
Sally examines the writing on the note and reads it aloud. “Dear Sally, you may only know me slightly, mostly in a negative way, but I just want you to know I am thankful for what you’ve done. Please find everything within this gracious-crafted basket as a token of gratitude for your sacrifice. Many thanks, a friendly fox.” Her ears twitch, hearing the crunch of leaves from afar. Sally picks her head up quick and darts her eyes across the river. On the other side is the fox with blue paint and loincloth, standing still as a statue while looking back at her. The wolves take notice of him as well before he turns and vanishes into the trees.
The orange fox continues on his journey away from the canine village and regroups with his red fox and warthog friends by the river down further. He stops before them as they sit and talk to each other while facing the water. They only notice him when he steps on a twig, alerting them of his position behind them.
“Oh! There you are, Zach!” Emmy stands. “Where were you?”
“I… had to take care of something,” he says. “Nothing major.”
“You didn’t go near the Canine Clan’s village, did you?” asks Amina. “I know they let us go out of kindness, but they’re still dangerous.” Emmy agrees.
Zach stares into the red fox’s eyes, keeping a flat-mouthed expression and seriousness as he goes for a lie. “Of course not. Why would I go near a tribe that held us hostage and nearly killed us?”
“I know you too well,” Amina tells him. “You have a habit of returning an act of kindness. I know it’s sweet and the right thing, but knowing the other tribes and their stances, it’s not safe.”
Zach continues with his partial lie. “I didn’t go anywhere near the canine village, Amina.”
“You sure?” Zach nods to her. “All right, then.”
“Zach,” Emmy starts. “Amina and I were talking and we were thinking of playing hoopstones at the old temple ruins today. You up for a little challenge?”
“Um, sure,” Zach responds. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and set up? I’ll join you in a minute.”
“You all right?” the warthog asks. “You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine, Emmy. Really, I am. Just need a little time to myself. Go on and get it all set. I’ll be there.” Amina and Emmy head off through the trees, leaving the orange fox standing there, alone. Ruffling resonates loudly toward him. “I had a feeling you were going to chase me down.” He turns his whole body around to face the rottweiler and her wolf companions. “Do you like the gift for you?”
“What is this?” Sally barks, demanding an answer as she holds the basket up. “Are you trying to prank me in some way?”
“What? Of course not… It’s my way of saying “thank you”.”
“Thank you?” repeats Sally. “For what?”
“For what you did yesterday… Look, our tribes are rivals and I shouldn’t’ve, but this is the least I can do.”
“Well, I appreciate the effort and crafts, but it isn’t necessary.” She holds out the basket. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to, though. You are not like all the other canines. You’re generous and you did what no other canine would do. For that, I give you the basket of gifts to show my gratitude and loyalty.”
“You are living a fantasy, Fox,” she tells him. “Have you forgotten our tribes are against each other?”
“Just because our tribes are, doesn’t mean we should. Sally, before we met, I was very much like you; afraid my chief father would disown me or banish me for befriending a rival member… He doesn’t even talk with me to begin with, so I don’t care of his opinions at all.”
“I’m not afraid of anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah, why should we trust a fox like you?” adds Niji. “Your people have stolen from us… Your tribe is nothing but trouble.”
“I may be a fox, but I don’t do anything my father tells them to do,” Zach assures them. “Either way, I’m just hoping we can put the past behind and pave the way for a new era of friendship and peace.”
“Your chieftain father doesn’t think so,” Cole utters. “And ours is the same way.”
“Doesn’t have to be with the chiefs… Can be with just us… I better go and meet up with my friends… Thank you very much for our lives…” Zach turns and disappears.
 ***
 Amina and Emmy prepare the hoops and large rock for their game in the abandoned courtyard of a destroyed temple. Moss and plants overgrow along the stone structure, covering most of the cracks they seep through.
Zach appears before the girls once again, heading over to the field. “Hey, are we all set?”
“Yep,” Emmy tells him. “Got the hoops all set and we have our rock.”
“Although,” Amina starts. “It’ll be a bit unfair.” Zach asks her why. “Well, hoopstones usually involves an even number of people to play. We’re just three. Are we just going to play two on one?”
“Hey!” calls a voice from over yonder. The group turns and spots the rottweiler and her wolves coming onto the field. “What’s this we hear about a game of hoopstones?” Amina and Emmy are speechless, frozen with fear, except for Zach. “You have room for three more?” Cole and Niji look at her confused, as does Amina and Emmy.
“We do, in fact,” Zach says. “You up for a game?”
“No,” Sally tells him. “I’m up for more than one if you plan to play all day. You up for that, Fox?”
Zach smiles. “Sure, we’ll play. You and your wolves against us?”
“For the first game, sure. Then, we mix it up.” Sally stands on one side of the stoned-line as does Zach.
Emmy leans closer to the orange fox. “Why are they here, Zach? How did they know about our little game?”
“You did something nice for them, didn’t you?” asks Amina. Zach chuckles and rubs the back of his head. “Zach, are you crazy?”
“I wasn’t hurting anyone. Besides, never wrong to do something nice for a change.”
“Great,” Emmy utters. “Now we’re playing hoopstones with the canines. Hope nothing goes wrong with this…”
 @emmy-the-absolute-goof @rainbow-strike @sally-the-pack-leader
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sacks-of-kittans · 5 years
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Is a long Sasuke post reasonable?
SASUKE IS A BITCH
#3rd attempt writting this, I will be going totally off topic but I just wanna bitch about the uchiha clan.
Sorry I was playing the naruto drinking game last night.
Alright so gonna be hella honest I had many many mix feelings about Sasuke so if I say something that may offend you about Sasuke, I watched most of naruto drunk.
So the lesson they teach about Sasuke must have been thrown out the window
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So Sasuke is a kid from a cool ass family that is probably the strongest clan in the hidden leaf. Why I say that? His eyes have levels on levels of the sharingan. The hyuuga is really the only clan to really rival it but fails. Do to politics I’m not entirely sure why the whole clan got killed.
Spoilers: you can correct me, but this is what I got out of it. When the nine tails attacked the uchiha didn’t do anything about it even though they can seal the nine tails. The uchiha didn’t cause they’re minding their own business? When the uchiha and senju made the leaf people still kinda cold to the uchiha and the uchiha never forgot? It’s theorized the uchiha made the attack? Anyway the third wants to offer a peaceful plan and the uchiha was planning a secret revolution cause the village was treating them even worse than before. Danzo was like since you kinda like the nine tails prance around and you took the place of hokage, let me do shit since you fuck up a lot. 3rd is like no. Since Itachi is in anbu, Danzo is like kill everyone in the family or your clan is gonna start a revolution. Don’t let them look bad. You can keep your little bro alive so one day he can kill you. So Itachi never betrays the leaf.
So that’s an entire situation I was still fucked up with.
However his clan gets the most in depth explainations. They’re all fire natures. Hyuuga we don’t know, and the other clans fuck them. I wish the Izuka (I think that’s Kiba’s last name) had more time cause you know...dogs. What other things did they do for the village, Kiba sister is a medical ninja, do dogs heal too or? So much. Ino’s family is kinda cool because they have the side hustle flower shop, like how the Uchiha have the police force. Shika and Cho don’t even get that but we learn that Shikamaru has a whole forest with deer in it. And you know fuck Choji. The bug clan and the yamanak should work together for those damn flowers. I wish the hyuuga also had a side hustle. The umazaki family has just a sad past.
What makes Sasuke different from Naruto is that Sasuke knew his parents and brother. And then the world gets flipped. His dad never really shows Sasuke the love we wanted him to have, yeah his mom is like “Sasuke your dad loves you” but we never get to see that. When I first watched naruto and being an edgy preteen I was like why is Sasuke that mad, his dad liked Itachi more. But growing up I realized why Sasuke would be mad about his whole clan getting murdered. I just felt like the family bonding could have been delivered better, espescally since I thought he wanted to avenge his clan and maybe not prove strength.
Design
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He is as emo as you can get in a 2013 hot topic. Like look at him having those unnesscary sleeves. To make him less emo they give him fuck boy shorts to balance him out.
In shippuden he wesrs that low low cut robe short
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And then he starts looking even more emo and less fuck boy like. He gets daddy vampire emo when we hit Boruto which is the final stage of emo because then you live forever or you die.
Fuck boy vs emo Sasuke.
Fuck boy
All the girls like him even in real life I knew some chicks who wanted that uchiha dick. And looking at his ass, he’s not really that cute. How it degrades the show is that it shows most the girls in the show don’t move on and take some pretty nasty blows from that thot. He even says some mean shit to naruto. NONE OF THEM GAVE UP ON SASUKE. Him being like that kinda made me pissed. Like I would have killed if Sasuke was like “Yo Sakura I love you now” and her being like “yeah.. I need you to prove it” not some shit I have to pretend to see. Karin, Ino (hinted) Sakura, and Naruto all still love his moody ass. Karin he tells Sakura to kill her cause she’s replaceable. He calls Sakura annoying a hundred times. Rejected Ino when she gave him a friendship sunflower. And put naruto through all the shit. No I’m not blaming the other characters for still loving him, it’s he’s not that cool . He’s op as fuck in Boruto but it was a lot more fun to watch when he struggled against Lee, Gaara and naruto.
Emo
My family this my family that oh Itachi was just saving the village the whole time? Well fuck the village. I get why he hates the village for making his brother do that shit, but I also hate the 180 he makes when naruto/Kakashi becomes Hokage. “Secretly helping the village”. No he just hates being there and feels like he bare minimum. If he really wanted to avenge his family and clan he’d be a better father. I also hated how he didn’t really see naruto as an equal. Naruto’s last name was Umazaki. Which may have been a small clan or an abused clan or whatever, but they’re known for taming the ninetails. I also wished the umazaki was treated better in the leaf since One of the members was married to the first hokage and being hokage seems to be like the gig man. Sasuke was like that bad friend that had to be better than you and you take the challenge and actually are better so then they just run away.
Im not dong development since I didn’t really see how things changed in a normal way. It went from “I hate that dork naruto”-> “I wanna be stronger than naruto, so I’m leaving the leaf and working with a villain”—>”I’m killing my brother and now I hate the leaf village”->”I’m gonna help the leaf so the world doesn’t end”?-> “now that it’s all done, I’m gonna go on a journey and come back and marry Sakura”->”although I wanna avenge my clan I’m leaving again and telling nobody but naruto where I’m at”->”I like hanging out with naruto’s son”
To be fair between I hate lead and world doesn’t end was when naruto st the time was stopped getting dubbed.
Relation ships
Kakashi
Kakashi knew Sasuke was strong and how the village saw Sasuke, like they saw Itachi almost, there’s no way he’ll disappoint the village. But Sasuke does. Kakashi is like whatever I had enough people die on me where you little don’t phase me. He also always shows how much he likes his other two student “Sakura just wants to help you” and naruto just wants to save you. Even though Sasuke was his least favorite student he didn’t fall short with Sasuke and taught him shit and even called Sasuke smart I think during the first mission.
I wish we saw Sasuke and Neji fight, two cool clans fighting would have been cool.
I wish there was a filler where Sasuke and Choiji hang out and Sasuke learns he has other interest. Like cook, or Sasuke teaches Choiji how to do a cool punch and Choiji teaches something more peaceful.
I would have love to see him and Ino talk about their rivals and how they have to get stronger. They go on a date and it doesn’t work out. Something silly like that and then the Ino crush on Sasuke disappears forever.
Like honestly if he just bonded with more people (even though he thinks it’s dumb) it would have been harder for him to leave the leaf BUT tbh it would be more emotional and show how desperate he is to get stronger to literally accept help from a mega villain.
Sakura
Listen I would be fine with those to ending up together if they just fucking explain it. I’ve talked about these two a lot and I think Sasuke could have been better. I don’t care if he wasn’t a people person but it literally makes Sakura a strong ass ninja look bad for marrying a dude that never had an interest in her. Even Tsunade when reading a book was like what is this shit. I wish Sasuke actually proved his love for her other than getting her pregnant and leaving
Naruto
So even though naruto was more in love with Sasuke than Sasuke was, Sasuke still loved naruto. He didn’t know what to do with his feelings and misidentified them as rage cause I’ve done that. He also doesn’t stop thinking about naruto when he leaves, but unlike naruto he has other stuff to do like killing his brother. Yeah Sasuke was shitty but he does treat naruto better than his wife. He’s talked to naruto even on his journey and their bloody ripped off arms connect at the end. Bet naruto would have made a heart top out of it.
So I know it seems like I hate Sasuke
It’s not entirely hate, it’s just kinda poor writting
Now why I say that, a lot of the things he did doesn’t make much sense. Like I wish there was more to him wanting to get strong other than beating naruto. After rewatching that, it is about his family but a lot more about naruto. Orochimaru is an evil dude but Sasuke agrees. Team taka acts like they still like him even though he treated Karin bad at times, but it’s fine everything is peachy. He treated a lot of people in his life like shit and thought his apology to them was to just go on a journey instead of actually taking the time to talk to the people he hurt... but that would give other characters more screen time the writers never want to do. SHINO SHOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE “boy if I went on your rescue mission years ago, you would have never left”because Sasuke leaving hurt characters like Shino too. There’s no true resolve with him and that’s why I can’t really think of a lesson for him. He was an asshole who didn’t really redeem himself. Yeah he got married to a girl he was shit to, but is that really the message we wanna give people? He got all these cool ass powers but he does a lot of shitty things that only his daughter calls him out on. If they were gonna make naruto as long as they did they should have spent another 30 seconds at looking at Sasuke and being like “wow he hurt all those around him and were not gonna do much” yeah he saved the world but everyone was in that dire situation and he didn’t really wanna die. I just feel his character never got a real completion
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raendown · 4 years
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Pairing: None Word count: 4419 Chapter: 2/4  Rated: T+ Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?
Follow the link or read it under the cut!
KO-FI and commission info in the header!
Chapter 2
“But why do I need to be in charge of it?” In spite of the usual efforts to sound more mature than his actual age, at the moment Hikaku treads dangerously close to a childish whine. Izuna is far from impressed.
“We need someone there to make sure people actually stay on task,” he says. “And we all know there’s no one better at killing a buzz than you. It’s a work site, people are gonna get rowdy, idiots are gonna want to show off. You’re basically acting as supervisor to make sure that no one gets out of hand or uses any chakra outside of strict working necessity.”
Scratching at the back of his head, Hikaku steps aside to let a man pass between them and then falls in to step beside Izuna again. His face takes on a dour expression for several minutes as they walk. By the time he orders his thoughts for whatever he wants to say they’ve already passed by several shops and turned down another street.
“I’m not exactly…the strongest guy around,” he says at last. The words sound as though they pain him to admit. Pride is a terrible affliction to them all.
“That’s fine. No one’s asking you to actually fight people. If they step out of line you tell them where to shove it. And if they try to start something you don’t think you can win then dodge like hell and report them. You know I’m always willing to crack a head for you if you need it.” Izuna grins as he claps his cousin on the back, shamelessly enjoying the bleak grimace he gets in return.
When the other falls in to a sulk Izuna lets him, too cheerful to be put off his own good mood. Plans to build the wall are progressing a lot faster than anyone expected after the council of elders had somehow all managed to agree on a single proposal in the first meeting. As a celebration of the workers going out to survey the initial measurements Izuna had invited Madara out for lunch. Unfortunately his brother is an absolute stick in the mud and had opted to stay home with some paperwork he apparently needed to get done so when Izuna passed Hikaku on his way in to the shopping district he cheerfully invited his cousin instead.
And even more cheerfully dropped the news that he is nominating Hikaku as one of the foremen for this upcoming worksite. Their lunch out has been a petty man’s delight as he enjoyed both the food and the look of exhausted irritation staring back at him.
“Come on, if we cut through here I think it leads out near the tailor’s and I need to put in an order for a new cloak.” With how the streets twist here and there Izuna is actually fairly proud of himself for remembering that. He pulls at his cousin’s shoulder until Hikaku follows along behind him with a tortured sigh.
“I thought we were going home now?”
“Oh stop whining or I’ll sit on you until you admit that you’re secretly an old man in an adolescent body.”
Even without looking he can practically hear the other pouting. “I’m nineteen!”
Izuna intends to shoot back with some quip about making his point for him. He’s interrupted before he can by the sudden appearance of two stocky figures in front of them, blocking the path in an unmistakably deliberate manner. One arm swings out instinctively to stop Hikaku and encourage the younger man behind him. His cousin might not be exactly weak but he is also enough of a level-headed realistic to step behind the stronger fighter without complaint.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” Izuna asks in a calm voice.
“Already done enough, haven’t you?” one of the men drawls. His accent is distinctly northern where the villages have all intermarried enough that none of the people living there can be said to carry even as few as three bloodlines.
“If I’ve already helped then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind stepping aside for us to pass.” Humor is, perhaps, not the best way to respond in this situation but unfortunately his mouth always works a little faster than his brain. Sometimes the words just sort of fall out of their own.
“Think you’re funny?”
Clearly these strangers do not appreciate his humor.
“Yeah I sort of think I am.” Izuna grins even as he curses himself for a trouble-seeking fool.
“Right.” One of the men turns his head to spit before cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been waiting years to get you alone. Then some people came ‘round our little hamlet talking about peace and a village where we can all be happy and sunshine together and I thought to myself ‘well now, isn’t that just an opportunity?’ And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“My sister never took another step after you left her for dead. Now she spends every day with this look on her face like she wishes you would have just finished the job.”
A wash of sad understanding turns over in Izuna’s belly. Not guilt because he’s sure he had a reason for whatever he did, he’s never been the type for unnecessary slaughter, but the aftermath of their duties as shinobi is never pleasant to think about. One of the first lessons he’d ever been taught was how to put it all out of his mind lest it drive him to madness thinking about the things he’s done. It doesn’t take a genius to understand the sort of revenge this man is after; obviously he’s never been able to put what happened to his sister out of mind.
For perhaps a sliver of an instant Izuna considers trying to talk his way out of this but even as the idea enters his mind he cast it aside. The anger staring back at him is not the sort of anger that can be talked aside. Unfortunate, that. There goes his good mood.
“Hikaku,” he murmurs quietly, “I want you to stay out of this.”
“But-!”
“Just watch the street and make sure no one else gets involved, alright?” Keeping both eyes on the man already reaching for a poorly sharpened kunai, he waits until his cousin assents with a low grunt. Then he nods and put his trust in the other to keep out of the way.
Eyes narrowed, body language more aggressive by the moment, the stranger doing all the talking gives a harsh snort. “You must be proud of the pain you’ve caused. I’ve always enjoyed taking the pride out of men who don’t deserve it. Hurting you the way you hurt her is going to be fun, I’ll make sure to mark this day on my calendar and celebrate it every damn year.”
Izuna is already imagining the lecture Madara will give him later on setting an example for others, how they are supposed to be the pinnacles of peaceful behavior towards their new allies. He spares a moment to scowl mentally for the one who has seen most of his violence over the years. What use is having a stalker if Tobirama mysteriously disappears the only time it might be useful to have him around?
Of course, the moment he finishes that thought the two men move towards him and then every body present freezes as another appears between them. Exasperation and relief flood Izuna’s veins in equal measures. Tobirama says nothing in either greeting or explanation, merely stands like a statue with his back to the one he’s spent most of his life trying to kill. Leaning to the side puts Izuna at just the right angle to see his rival’s face and wonders at the look of sheer ice in those deep red eyes, narrowed in to a cold glare that would have frozen the blood of bigger men than the ones he has turned it on now. Nice as it is of him to give these idiots pause in whatever stupidity they had been about to commit it’s still baffling for Izuna to find himself standing behind a wall of pale flesh like some damsel that needs rescuing.
And all in utter silence.
Now faced with twice the skill as they had been a moment before, the would-be attackers seem to rethink their options, eyes darting between Tobirama’s immovable stance and Izuna’s raised eyebrows. The one who has so far done all the talking keeps his eyes forward when he cranes his neck to whisper behind himself. Wariness has already filled the second man, frustration clear on his face even as he shakes his head with obvious regret.
“Let us have five minutes with him,” the first one says finally, attempting to bargain with Tobirama. “Rumor says you follow him around like a shadow; obviously you don’t trust him. You wouldn’t shed any tears if something happened, yeah? No one has to know you were even here.”
They wait but Tobirama makes no move to reply, only continues staring the pair of them down. It’s difficult to decide whether his ability to remain so completely still is more impressive or eerie but Izuna supposes it doesn’t matter much when it is clearly serving its purpose. All confidence drains away to leave both of the strange men looking increasingly nervous as the minutes ticked by. Eventually the one in front grunts and scuffs one foot against the dusty ground.
“Whatever. Pair of goody-two-shoes softies now that you’ve got a pretty little treaty to hide behind and all. Just you wait, Uchiha. There won’t always be a Senju bodyguard around to protect you.” With a sharp gesture he motions for his companion to follow and backs away slowly until he can lose himself in the crowds just beyond the alley.
“Hn, won’t I?” Izuna murmurs unhappily under his breath.
Although he’s sure the words do not carry across the space between them, Tobirama turns and meets his eyes with the anger in his face draining away to leave him blank once more. For some reason the sight of him is unutterably irritating.
“Thanks oh so much for the help but you know I could have taken those two with both eyes closed, right? I don’t you to rescue me.” Snorting quietly as he hears his cousin splutter behind him, Izuna shakes his head. “Seriously, is this what you were following me around for? I don’t know if you were hoping for a life debt or something but no way am I declaring some bullshit like that when I could have taken care of this on my own.”
“Izuna!” Hikaku whines and pulls at his sleeve but he shakes the man off without looking.
“Go on then. Was that what you wanted? For the love of chakra just say something!”
Tobirama tilts his head slowly to one side. “Your brother was looking for you,” is all he says, leaving them to wonder if he intends that as a convenient excuse for his presence or this is a paltry attempt at moving the focus away from himself. It’s a lie either way. His brother knows exactly where he is.
With no further words Tobirama turns and walks away in a plain declaration that he considers this nonexistent conversation over. Not even when Izuna hollers after him loud enough to attract attention from both ends of the alley does he look back, leaping up on to the rooftops where, even more annoyingly, his chakra doesn’t go farther than a couple of roads away. Considering how close he tends to stay lately it’s sort of a miracle he goes even that far.
“Do you think anyone would notice if I murdered him in his sleep?” Izuna grumbles.
“Yes,” Hikaku answers in a flat voice. “Many people. Not the least of whom would be his own sibling.”
“Just a little bit?”
“No.”
It proves difficult but he manages to resist the urge to cross his arms. “Ugh, fine. Come on. I can stop by the tailor’s another day, let’s just head back home. Madara’s gonna love this.”
One glance is all it takes to see that Hikaku understands his sarcasm. At least the familiarity of rolling eyes lifts his spirits a bit. He is still frowning as they turn for home, however, working though everything that’s just happened in the span of about five minutes. For all that he hadn’t believed in peace himself for many years, apparently he’s allowed himself to grow complacent in just a few short months of it. Getting jumped is surprising enough already considering how few people would dare to challenge his reputation but having someone go to all the trouble of joining their settlement just to challenge him specifically is a dedication to hatred beyond even his own ability to carry grudges. Then to have Tobirama of all people step in like some volunteer policeman? He feels almost tempted to check himself for signs of whiplash.
Hikaku stays with him until they are well within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound, probably worrying that he might wander off and get up to no good. Which, he can admit, sounds fairly relaxing at the moment. Nothing helps him let off a bit off steam more than pulling a good prank or two on his fellow clan members. Unfortunately he’s had to rein himself in a lot more often to make a good image for anyone watching the Uchiha a little too closely, putting their best foot forward until the gathered clans are all on more solid footing with each other. It’s a shame, really. Behaving is boring.
Left alone only a few streets away from his home, Izuna spends the last few minutes’ walk trying to figure out how to describe what has just transpired without making it sound like some weird over exaggeration. He wanders up their walkway with an absent thought that it looks like the grass seeds they planted are finally sprouting, green shoots rising from bare dirt to stand proud with no help from the mokuton they still deny needing, and scowls to know that it is now perhaps a little late in the season. They will die before they have a chance to live. Perhaps to take advantage of the help Hashirama offers will be necessary after all next year. Madara looks up as Izuna enters their home and matches his frown as though by instinct.
“What’s your problem?” he demands.
“Grass is finally growing,” Izuna mumbles as he kicks off his shoes. “And I got jumped in an alley. Sort of.”
Madara's paperwork drifts slowly down to his lap, eyes narrowing behind the reading glasses he so shamefully hides away from most people, fingers already tapping random patterns against his thigh with rapid thought.
“You look remarkably unruffled for someone who just got jumped.”
“Didn’t exactly turn in to a fight. Almost, there were two of them and one was saying something about me hurting his sister, but we got interrupted.”
“By?” his brother prompts him when he doesn’t go on.
Shuffling in to the room, Izuna flops down in the closest armchair and rolls his eyes. “Who do you think? My biggest fan showed up and just stood there like a ghostly statue, stared the two idiots down until I guess they decided they didn’t want to fight me and him at the same time.”
He feels almost flattered to see Madara set his paperwork entirely aside. As the years go by his brother has grown to be more and more of a workaholic, always needing to be productive and taking less time to simply relax, almost as though he were trying to fill some kind of hole in himself. Izuna wonders sometimes if the man is lonely but he never asks. Romance is generally one of the topics they try not to talk about beyond warning each other to go sleep somewhere else for a night on rare occasions.
“Just like that?” Madara asks eventually. “He showed up out of nowhere to just…stand there?”
“Pretty much. It was weird. When I tried to tell him I had the situation handled all he said was that you were looking for me and then he disappeared like he does except he didn’t go far. Do you think he even realizes that I’m a trained fucking shinobi and I can track chakra like everyone else if I put some effort in to it?”
Several minutes pass without answer but he knows his sibling well enough to know that Madara is only mulling the situation over in his head. Much to the contrary of what most people think, he does have the ability to think before he speaks; it’s just that he loses that ability when his emotions are high and that tends to happen a little too easily. Especially around the two Senju brothers. Both of their one-time enemies have their own way of evoking emotion fairly easily from those around them.
“I can’t say I know what’s in his mind but from what you’ve told me I don’t think he cares whether you know he’s there or not.” Madara hums as though considering his own statement.
“That’s just weird,” Izuna grumbles. “This whole thing is weird. People are actually starting to talk about it, do you realize that? And some of the rumors going around are wild! I’m pretty sure the man isn’t following me around because he’s secretly in love with me.”
“You never know,” Madara points out with the careful thought on his face morphing in to sly teasing.
“Oh don’t even suggest it,” Izuna shoots back, nose wrinkling with distaste.
It isn’t that Tobirama is particularly unattractive. Quite the opposite, actually; he’s been unfairly attractive since the rest of them were all gangly teenagers hating him a little more for having never suffered the indignation of a pimple at the end of his nose. Rather it’s the idea of trying to make a relationship work with someone he would constantly be comparing himself to that balks him. Being competitive is simply in his nature and Izuna is self-aware enough to admit that being so close in power to his partner would leave him feeling childishly not good enough.
His eyes close as he realizes that now he is worrying about this ridiculous possibility he hadn’t even given credence to until he was teased about it. Madara, the bastard, snickers at him from across the room.
“Maybe I can shake him if I volunteer to take a few missions,” Izuna muses aloud. “He’s really not harming me in any way but it’d be nice to not feel eyes following me around all the time. That plays havoc with all the years I spent training myself to be hyper aware of anyone watching me. I keep thinking he’s about to attack.”
“Afraid you’ll lose?” His brother pretends to nod in sage agreement, to which he lifts his middle finger.
“Don’t project your own insecurities on to me, old man.”
The wave of profanity that crashes over him in response flows in one ear and out the other as Izuna tunes it all out with the ease of practice. He is already trying to remember the mission list that got posted this morning and whether there had been anything on it which might keep him away for a few days just to relax, to breathe without having to wonder if red eyes might be watching his every movement.
Getting out of the village will be good for him anyway. It will be interesting to see how the climates have changed in the area with the forming of Konoha and all the other lands following their example. When the only thing he needed to call himself was an Uchiha there had been certain cities and towns that welcomed him with the relief of knowing he would protect them if need be while others had watched him pass through their lands from behind closed blinds, reporting every movement to the other clans they were allied with. Now that he carries with him the weight of Konohagakure on his shoulders he wonders how those same eyes will watch him. Friendly, the ally of his allies? Or will suspicion and prejudice linger as they all pretend that it doesn’t here in the village itself?
It feels strange to hope that lingering prejudice is the only reason Tobirama keeps following him around but Izuna finds his thoughts wandering back to the rumors of a strange romantic obsession and shudders, pushing the idea away as quickly as it returns to him. Some time away will hopefully clear his mind and allow him to come back to this odd situation with fresh eyes. Maybe then he will be able to see past the things he is afraid of finding to spot the real reason.
Like any good plan, however, it is subject to unexpected changes. Namely the innocent smile on Hashirama's face the next morning as he stands in the man’s office and stares with abject horror.
“You want me to what?”
“Accompany Tobirama on his mission! It’s a simple delivery but our intelligence says that Iwa shinobi have been spotted in the area and they’ve been doing everything they can to sabotage our efforts in reaching out to new allies.” His eyes turn soft in the way that says he is slipping away in to dreamy thoughts. “Normally I would send Touka with him, they’ve always worked well together, but then something Maddy said made me realize that it would be really good to make a show of unity, you know?”
“Unity.” Izuna parrots the word faintly, hardly able to believe his ears. He is going to kill his brother for this.
With an oblivious nod Hashirama goes on. “Yes! The biggest concern we see from the clans we’re reaching out to is their doubt that this peace is real. What better way to convince them of our sincerity than to see you and Tobi working together?”
“That’s very sound logic,” he has to admit. “Terrible, awful, and disgustingly sound logic.”
“Isn’t it? When I told Tobi my idea all he did was stare at me without saying anything. I would have thought he’d be proud of me for coming up with such a clever idea.”
Doing his best to ignore the most powerful man in the nation pouting at him like a child asking for sympathy, Izuna draws in a deep breath and lets it back out slowly. Of course his old rival had only stared. The man is probably leaping for maniacal joy on the inside to be handed such a perfect excuse to continue stalking him from even closer than usual. So much for getting some time away.
“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice but to accept,” Izuna mumbles more to himself than to Hashirama. After making a point to seek out a mission for himself it will only make him look like a dissenter if he refuses to work this one simply because of who he’s been asked to work with.
“Excellent! Right, I have a copy of the mission details here if you’d like to take the scroll and look it over. You’ll be leaving in two days so don’t worry about rushing, there’s plenty of time to get things together or find someone to cover your work. I know Tobi hates to come home and find his paperwork has piled up.”
“Does he now?”
The other man beams at his rhetorical question, clearly mistaking it for interest, and continues to blather on long past the point when Izuna stops listening. Now that he’s been enjoying the benefits of it for months he will be the last person to declare this peace a mistake but Izuna will freely and eagerly state for anyone who asks that he regrets the effects it seems to be having on Tobirama. Or more accurately he regrets that it has given the man chances such as the one he finds himself falling in to now.
Quietly planning revenge on his own brother for having any part in saddling him with this doom, Izuna allows Hashirama's voice to wash over him like a constant stream as he unrolls the scroll to peruse its contents. The mission itself doesn’t seem too complicated, typical first contact stuff, a good show of cooperation and goodwill before they saunter on home again. It’s ironically just the sort of thing he’s been hoping for. Of course, he’s been hoping to go alone or perhaps to drag Hikaku along with him. Now he is to be saddled with an extra shadow to follow along behind.
A little piece of home to come with him, he thinks wryly.
“Much as I appreciate your stellar conversation”-Izuna interrupts the flow of words without guilt the moment he is finished reading-“I do believe I should go set my paperwork in order now rather than leaving it until the last minute. Whoever takes up my duties while I’m gone won’t appreciate a messy filing system.”
“Yeah, Tobi’s always on my back to be less messy. I won’t keep you then!”
Izuna nods and turns away. He makes it all the way to the door and twists the handle when his attention is called back to see Hashirama’s face take on a hesitant, almost pensive expression.
“Thank you for accepting this mission. I know the two of you aren’t close the way Maddy and I are but I think…this will be good for him.” He says nothing more than that, no explanation for such cryptic words, and once again Izuna finds himself wondering whether this man knows what sort of behavior his sibling gets up to at every opportunity.
Rather than ask he simply nods and turns back to the door again. Tobirama tends to stay farther away whenever he keeps within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound. If he is to be denied the space he’s been trying to create for himself then Izuna very much intends to spend as much time as possible on his own before several days of having to walk side by side with his own unexplained stalker. Maybe – and it’s a big maybe – he might be able to force some sort of clue out of the man while they’re alone in the wilderness for days on end.
A man can dream, even if he dreams of nothing more than an answer to his questions.
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