onigiri-nuts

[onigiri-nuts]

A Kind Uchiha?

Part 1 Naruto [TV show] x male yn

Warning: rude saying, theif, weapons use

Description: You are the eldest of the Uchiha brothers - wiser, stronger, and more composed than both Madara and Izuna. To Madara, You're a steady hand in the storm of his tempestuous nature, often calming his impulsive tendencies even when he acts like a spoiled little brother. Izuna, on the other hand, looks up to you with deep admiration and respect, always striving to follow in your footsteps. To both of them, your not just a sibling - you're there anchor, their inspiration, and their favorite person.

That afternoon,

you were training by the river when Madara, hidden nearby, secretly watched you. Eventually, he stomped to the lake's edge, frustrated with himself.

“Useless!” he growled. “I can’t even master Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!”

“It takes time and training,” you said calmly, not breaking your stance. “Izuna’s still learning at the Academy, and he’s younger than you.”

Madara kicked a small stone into the water, pouting. “Tch. I don’t need school lessons. I just need to get stronger… I want to protect you, (Name)!”

You gave a small smile. “I can protect myself, Madara.”

Madara’s face darkened at your dismissive response. His Sharingan flickered briefly as he clenched his fists.

“Hmph! You’re always saying that—but the Senju bastards… they’re after our clan! You can’t fight them all alone!”

You walked over and crouched beside him. “That’s why you have to protect Izuna from this world, Madara.”

His expression softened, but a stubborn fire still burned in his eyes. “That’s… different. Izuna’s too young to fight. You’re stronger than me, but I won’t let anyone take you away from us!”

“Promise,” you said simply.

Madara reached out, gripping your sleeve firmly. “I promise, (Name). I’ll master my Sharingan. I’ll become strong enough to stand behind you—and protect our family.”

“Good.”

Madara grinned mischievously and tugged your other sleeve. “But you have to promise something too! No more training alone—train with me!”

You chuckled. “Like you can train anything.”

Madara’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and anger, though his smile betrayed his real feelings. “Shut up! I’ll show you. Just watch…”

He took a deep breath and tried again to perform the Fireball Jutsu, straining with effort.

“Good try…” you said, trying not to laugh.

Madara puffed out his cheeks. “That wasn’t a ‘good try’! I just need better chakra control. Stop distracting me, (Name)!”

You laughed openly now. Madara turned away with a huff, though secretly pleased he had made you laugh.

“You’re so annoying… I’ll master this jutsu before you master anything else!”

“Okay, okay,” you said, still smiling.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the rocky path. Madara turned to see Izuna running toward you both, his eyes lighting up.

“Hey, Izuna! Come here! Let’s show (Name) how strong we are!” Madara shouted.

“Hi, Izuna,” you said gently.

Izuna beamed, clenching his tiny fists. “Onii-chan Madara! I’ve been practicing my shuriken throwing! Can I show you?”

You watched as Izuna demonstrated his technique, and Madara guided him proudly, correcting his form.

“See, (Name)? Our little brother’s growing up fast, just like you said. We have to protect him.”

“Faster than you, Madara,” you teased.

Madara’s competitive spark reignited, though his proud smile stayed. “Just wait! One day, Izuna’ll surpass both of us—and I’ll be the one who trains him the most!”

“I bet he will,” you said.

Madara’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let’s have a race! Loser has to do whatever the winner says for a week!”

“No,” you replied instantly.

Madara pouted, crossing his arms and sticking out his tongue. “You’re no fun… Afraid to lose?”

You reached out and booped both Madara and Izuna on the nose. They blinked in surprise—Izuna giggled, and Madara turned red.

“Hey! Don’t treat me like a kid!” Madara shouted, trying to keep his pout. A smile crept through anyway.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted two unfamiliar children—Senju, by the looks of them. One about Izuna’s age, the other closer to Madara’s.

Madara noticed them too. His Sharingan activated instantly as he stepped protectively in front of Izuna.

“(Name), take Izuna away. I’ll deal with the Senju.”

“Hi, little Senju,” you said kindly.

The two boys stopped, startled by your warm tone.

“Don’t be nice to them!” Madara whispered harshly. “They’re probably spying on us!”

“It’s rude not to say hello,” you replied gently.

The older Senju, Hashirama, narrowed his eyes. The younger one, Tobirama, stepped forward nervously.

“Um… hello. We just wanted to see if we could talk… peacefully,” Hashirama said.

“Madara, Izuna—say hi,” you said softly.

Madara muttered a reluctant “Hi,” while Izuna waved shyly.

“Good.”

Madara glared at you, still shielding his brothers. “Don’t encourage them! They’re the enemy, (Name)!”

“Otōto Madara,” you said firmly.

Madara huffed, clearly frustrated but unable to argue.

“Fine… but I’m watching them. If they try anything, they’ll regret it!”

“Why don’t you go see if Mother’s finished supper?” you suggested.

Madara groaned and stomped away. “Fine! But I’m telling her you made me babysit while you flirt with Senju!”

The two Senju exchanged confused glances as Madara disappeared, still muttering to himself.

“Your brother is… interesting,” Hashirama said with a cautious smile.

“He sure is,” you replied with a soft chuckle. “But did you two need something?”

Hashirama stepped forward, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve. “We heard about your skills in the upcoming tournament… and we were wondering—could you train us?”

You stepped closer, leaving Izuna in place as the two Senju tensed, their hands drifting to their pouches instinctively.

“I promise we’re not here to fight,” Hashirama said quickly. “I just think our clans would benefit from peace.”

You crouched down in front of them, meeting their wary eyes.

“Of course, I can train you,” you said warmly, then reached out and gently booped their noses like you had with your brothers.

Both Senju flushed red—Hashirama chuckled awkwardly, while Tobirama stiffened, clearly flustered.

“Th-that’s very kind of you, (Name)-kun,” Hashirama said, struggling to stay composed. “But we should head back now… can we come back tomorrow?”

“You sure about that, Hashirama?” you asked with a raised brow.

Tobirama hesitated, torn between curiosity and suspicion. He was clearly interested in learning about Uchiha techniques—perhaps even to use against you.

“Tobirama! Don’t be stubborn,” Hashirama urged. “Please, (Name)! We’ll come back at dawn!”

You smiled. “Alright, kids.”

Hashirama lit up. “Thank you so much! We won’t let you down!”

“But,” you added, pulling out two wrapped mochis, “I think you need a snack for the road.”

Hashirama’s eyes sparkled with pure joy, while Tobirama took the mochi more cautiously.

“This looks delicious! We’ll bring something back for you next time to show our gratitude!” Hashirama said.

“You two are even cuter than my brothers,” you said with a playful smile.

Tobirama choked on his half-eaten mochi, his face turning crimson.

“(N-Name)-kun! You’re making Tobirama embarrassed!” Hashirama laughed.

You laughed too—just as Madara reappeared, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“What’s going on here? Why are you feeding them your mochi?” he demanded, snatching the remaining one.

“Hi, Madara,” you said calmly.

He took a bite from the mochi, glaring at the Senju brothers. “Stop flirting with the enemy! They’re still Senju! And… they’re boys!”

“I’m not flirting with little boys, Madara,” you replied dryly.

Madara huffed, tossing the mochi wrapper aside. “Well, you better not! You’re my favorite person and I don’t share! ...Unless it’s Izuna.”

He gave the Senju a suspicious glance. Hashirama and Tobirama exchanged knowing smirks, clearly entertained by Madara’s jealousy.

“(Name), we should get going,” Hashirama said with a teasing tone. “Looks like Madara-kun is getting territorial.”

You patted both Senju boys on the head. Madara immediately grabbed your hand and yanked you away protectively.

“Don’t touch them! You’re my aniki! Only I get head pats!” Madara barked.

“And Izuna,” you added casually.

Madara’s Sharingan flickered in jealousy as he clung tighter to you. “Fine! But no more Senju interactions today. Come help me train instead!”

He started dragging you away, Izuna trailing close behind.

“See you at the Chūnin Exams!” you called to the Senju.

Hashirama waved eagerly. Tobirama gave a respectful nod.

“They’re just being nice because you’re helping them,” Madara muttered. “And because you’re too kind.”

You gently lifted Izuna onto your back as you walked. Madara paused mid-step, his jealousy spiking again.

“Hey! Stop cuddling with other clan members! First the Senju, now Izuna?”

“He’s our brother, Madara.”

“Still! You’re supposed to carry me, not him!”

You gave him the blankest expression possible. “Okay.”

Madara’s face twisted into a pout, but he seemed content enough with your answer. Izuna giggled quietly into his sleeve, clearly enjoying Madara’s antics.

An awkward silence hung between the three of you… until Madara finally broke it.

“Let’s just go train already!” he huffed, grabbing your sleeve again and tugging you forward as Izuna bounced on your back.

“It’s dinner time,” you reminded him, letting yourself be dragged along anyway.

To be continued

1200 words, 6800 characters

[onigiri-nuts]

A Favour

Part 1 Bonten x male yn

Warning: swearing, drug use, cigarettes

Description: When the bonten organization needs intel on the elusive Malahi Inocila, all signs all signs point to you - a sharp mouth bartender with a debt to the late Izana Kurokawa But tracking you down leads them into a chaotic club, not a quiet, but your not what they expected. Fluent in violence, sarcasm, and secrets, you might be they're only hope - or they're biggest mistake.

In the meeting room with bonten at 9:46

"Fuck, we're going to need fucking information about Mahahi Inocila," Takeomi muttered, flipping through a crumpled document with his name scribbledall over it.

"We fucking get it, old man!" Rindou snapped, voice rising with frustration. "You've said it, like, fourteen times. Everyone's sick of it."

Takeomi shot him a glare but didn't argue. The tension was thick.

Mikey, sitting quietly with his cold glare fixed on the floor, finally spoke.

"Sanzu"

"Yes, Mikey?" Sanzu replied, casually chewing on his pills like candy.

"I need someone that knows about Malahi Inocila." Mikey's tone was flat as he picked up a piece of dorkyaki and took a bite.

Kakucho looked up from his seat.

"Mikey."

"Yes, Kakucho." Mikey responded. Not even turning.

"Before Izana died, he told me something, Said if I ever needed a favor, I should go to a guy named (Your name, last name). He knows things - especially about people like Malahi. Plus, he owes Izana."

"That's great," Kokonoi said, putting down a wad of money. "But how the hell do we find this (Name) guy?"

Ran squinted, tapping his temple.

"Wait... that name sounds familiar."

"What do you mean, Aniki?" Rindou asked, confused.

Ran's eyes widened. "He works at a bar i go to!"

"Oh yeah? Which bar?" Kenji asked.

"(Bar name)," Ran said casually.

Takeomi raised a brow. "Isn't that Sanzu's bar?"

Sanzu blinked. "Yeah... it is."

Mikey stood. "Tomorrow night, We go. We ask questions."

"Yes, sir," the others responded - except Mikey, who just walked off to his room.

The next night

They cleaned up, dressed sharp, and followed their usual routine - showers, meals, and weapons checked. But tonight had a purpose.

When they arrived at the bar... it wasn't a bar.

It was a full-blown club.

Hookers danced outside. Music blasted from inside. Neon lights and smoke filled the air, the smell of sweat and liquor choking the doorway.

"The hell is this?" Kokonoi said, eyes darting around the chaos.

"I thought this was a bar!" Rindou shouted over the noise.

"Look around, I guess?, Let's split up!" Ran called out, already distracted by the crowd of strippers.

They searched. Nothing.

Eventually, they regrouped at the bar.

"Ugh, how are we supposed to find (your name)?" Rindou groaned.

"Shut up," Takeomi growled. "And where the fuck is the bartender?"

"I wonder if they'll give me -" Sanzu began, but a sharp voice cut through the noise.

"What do your ugly asses want?"

A man stood behind the bar. Lean, sharp-eyed, cigarette dangling from his lips. His accent was thick German.

"What the fuck did you say to me-." Sanzu started but got cut off again.

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking clown."

Kokonoi stepped forward, fists clenching. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

The bartender leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"(Your name, last name) that's who you're talking to, fuck boy."

"Your (name)?!" Mikey asked, surprised.

"Yeah, you fucking toilet paper."

Kakucho stepped in. "I'm Kakucho Hitto."

"Cool, you want a drink, or do you actually need something?" (Your name) asked, bored.

"We need information about Malahi Inocila." Kanji said.

(Your name) blinked, then chuckled darkly, "that fucking hoe?"

"Yeah..." Rindou added, unsure.

"What do i get in return?" (Your name) asked, already reaching for a bottle.

"You knew Izana Kurokawa, right?" Kakucho said.

"Yeah, no shit"

"He told me to find you if i ever needed something, said you owe him."

(Your name) paused... but before he could answer, two prostitutes, one Russian, one German - started shouting behind the bar.

Without hesitation, (your name) snapped in Russian.

"Ты, ёбаная шлюха, засунь свою пизду в трусики, шлюха!" ("You fucking slut, put your pussy in your panties, slut!")

Turned and barked at the other:

"und du, du verdammte Ehebrecherin, Sexspielzeug, abgehalfterte Spermaschlampe, verdammte Hure!" ("and you, you fucking homewrucker, sex toy, worn-out cum slut, fucking whore!")

The bonten members stood silent, unsure whether to be impressed or disturbed.

(Your name) turned back around, eyes cold.

"Now... What the fuck do you bitches want again?"

"Malahi Inocila," Mikey said again.

"Alright, concrete under eyes," (your name) muttered, smirking at Mikey, who crushed his dorkyaki in frustration.

"You got crumbs on my fucking counter, CONCRETE!"

"You fuckin-." Sanzu started, but Kakucho raised his hand.

"Shhh. Can I have a whiskey while we talk?"

"Sure, scarface."

Kakucho sighed. "I... never mind, " he looked exhausted.

(Your name) casually poured the drink, lit another cigarette, and leaned against the bar. "So... what the hell do you guys want to know?"

To be continued

695 words, 4507 characters