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historicfailure · 8 months

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Love Notes - How bad at flirting can you be?

First Chapter: What An Asshole!

Finally settling into a new job might be easy enough. Though, as you find out, getting along with Kakashi Hatake isn't that easy. Not easy at all. In fact, the guy is a certified asshole. Though, you're holding on, trying to prove yourself and your skills in this new environment. And someone has noticed your efforts, otherwise, you couldn't explain those strange notes from an unknown sender on your desk.

Hey there ^^

It's me again. I'm finally putting this fic out into the world. It has been some years since this idea came alive, but I never came around writing many chapters in one time period, but now I'm finally confident enough to post it. Hopefully you guys like it! (And even though the mystery is a little bit spoiled by the tag-system, please pretend to not know until the very end ;D)

Anyway, have fun with the first chapter! Thanks for reading! :D

~ X ~

You found the first note when you came back from lunch break.

It had been a good day until then, and you spent the break with a few of your new coworkers that you had gotten to know a little bit over the last few weeks. Kurenai was such a nice person, and she seemed genuinely interested when you started to talk about your previous workplace at a marketing company; she had asked lots of questions about the place while stabbing her salad with sharp, precise motions. Anko, on the other hand, had happily munched on a few dango sticks and listened, throwing in some comments when she saw fit, only to end the conversation with a mischievous “Way to go, (Y/N). But one important question you have to answer… Do you have a special someone,” At that her eyebrows had waggled up and down, like she was one of the ridiculous villains straight out of a cartoon, “who is able to give it to you really good?”

Needless to say, Kurenai and Shizune, who had been quietly listening to the talk while eating her sandwich, groaned in deep-apparently-already-expected embarrassment and the group quickly dispersed after that. Anko grinned a bit, like she knew what she had done, and winked at you, before casually strolling after your little group.

You stepped up to your desk with the small food container and water bottle in hand, still grinning weakly about Anko’s cheekiness, when you noticed the little note sitting innocently on top of your keyboard.

You knew it wasn’t yours from the very moment you spotted the paper. Usually, your desk was a total and utter mess, cluttered in different papers, sticky notes, files and pictures as references for an upcoming marketing campaign you were working on. The keyboard was pushed right in front of the monitor, to make space for the wild handwriting you had to call your own, the lists you made to remember whom to call to prepare some proofs of pamphlets you had planned or to schedule a meeting with a client, so they could check said proofs and the development of your ideas.

But despite the controlled chaos, despite the many other handwritten notes sticking to the rim of the monitor, to the edges of the desk, to the tiniest free space you could find, you always knew where everything was located. As disbelieving the stares you received were when you stated that, you had a system to archive everything on your desk, to bring a tiny bit—just enough—of order and organization into the piles of papers that you would be able to find anything. Also, if anybody else tried to find anything, they sooner or later had to go to you and ask. In a sense, you were even more in control of your own desk than the people who obsessively cleaned theirs. Thus, you knew where everything had to be and was when you left for lunch. There was a method to your madness, you’d say.

This note sitting on your keyboard definitely wasn’t yours. Carefully, you dropped the food container and water bottle on the desk, without wrinkling any of the documents of course, all the while your forehead wrinkled at the strange sight.

The note was neatly folded. Small, one of the official notes from Konohagakure Marketing, with the logo of a stenciled leaf in one corner which was slightly embossed on the thick paper. You looked over to the other open desks. No one looked up. They were busy themselves, phoning clients, writing emails or doing research for one of their own projects.

Well… Maybe it’s a prank for the newbie?

Another look around, then you dropped into your chair, whirled around to drag out the moment of having to pick up the strange note, before turning into the right position to actually do work at your desk with a sigh.

“Won’t get any better…” you mumbled to yourself, leaned over and picked the note up.

A short, irrational flash of panic overhauled your mind. Was it possibly a “Yeah, we have to cut costs, and you were the last one to arrive, so bye?”-note? You inhabited your position only for a few months, and you were the youngest member of the team, and maybe you weren’t delivering the results the higher-ups wanted to see?

No, that wasn’t possible. At least, you thought so. A few days ago, Minato Namikaze actually called you into his office and told you that your marketing reports were extremely detailed and rich of important information, and if you would handle the next analysis for an upcoming client too because of the good job you did. And of course, a note wouldn’t be enough to actually fire you.

Oh, sorry, to let me go. You rolled your eyes at the stupid expression. There was no nice way of telling someone was fired, no matter how nicely packaged the words were.

In fact, it was impossible that you would be fired like this. Still, you were slightly hesitant as you reached over and picked the note up with your very fingertips. Another last, assuring look around to make sure no one was giggling like a maniac or tried to hold in a little, cheeky grin, but all of your colleagues were still occupied with whatever they were doing. So, you breathed in and unfolded the note. Your eyes instantly fell on the handwritten words, the stroke of the pen and the simple black ink which was used.

I’m sure this note confuses you, and honestly, I’m also confused on why I’m writing this. The only thing I can safely say is, that I can’t stop thinking about you, and that I don’t want to bother you directly. You have lots of work at the moment, so I wish you good luck. But you probably don’t need any luck, not with the work I’ve already seen from you.

Confused, you read the note again. Just four lines, blank in the middle of the note, written in a neat, slightly right-slanted handwriting. It seemed sophisticated, and strangely enough, you could easily see the same handwriting on the manuscript of an author, who just came back from his writer’s retreat deep in the forest that did not have an ounce of electricity. Only slowly, the meaning of the words started to seep into your brain.

You were so ready for someone to stand up from their work, point at you and reveal the prank. An anonymous note from a… a secret admirer? Were you in a serious work environment, or did you miss the last ten or so years of your life and were still in High School?

Again, once more, just once more, your eyes flashed over the lines, the words, and the hidden confession. If this wasn’t a joke—and you were pretty much convinced it wasn’t—that someone “couldn’t stop thinking” about you; that someone “didn’t want to bother you directly”; that someone knew you had lots of work at the moment, and wished you good luck. And in the next sentence, that same someone told you that you probably didn’t need any luck, because between the lines, that anonymous someone also told you that your submitted work was great?

You didn’t know what to exactly take away from this short message. There was so much to unpack here that you simply didn’t know where to start.

It had to be someone from work. The paper with the letterhead and the official logo was the first indicator, and the mentioning of your earlier work another. Someone who was… shy? You cocked your head to the side while further studying the note. That someone didn’t want to bother you directly, but indirectly with the note?

It was probably better not to think too much into this. Whatever it was.

That didn’t stop you from placing that note into a small box and secure it in the highest drawer of your desk to keep it safe and sound. That also didn’t stop you from thinking from time to time about that note.

Every moment you didn’t spend working on your projects. The few minutes you used to fill up your water bottle or get a coffee from the break room. Hell, even when you went to the toilet and did your business, your mind was busy circling around the note and, most importantly, the writer of the note.

Who wrote this note? Who? Who was able to write the note and place it secretly on your desk?

The easiest way to at least find something about the secret admirer was to ask the co-workers closest to your desk.

The first logical choice was Asuma, who sat in your back and should have a good view of your desk if you weren’t there, but luck wasn’t on your side.

“Sorry,” Asuma shrugged, hands already fiddling with a package of cigarettes, “I was on a smoke break and also came back just now.”

“Didn’t you want to quit?” you asked. “What about that?”

He grew even more nervous. One hand left the cigarettes alone, only to fly up and rake in quick, harsh motions through his beard. “Yeah… About that… Don’t tell Kurenai, please.”

Amused, but miffed you didn’t find your answer, you gave your promise.

The next choice was Anko, just because she always had a thing for the office rumors and offered you since day one the most intriguing gossip she could get her hands on.

“Hey, Anko.”

Today, though, she was seriously working, typing away at the speed of lightning. Only after a few long seconds, she looked up, her wonderfully purple colored hair falling around her face in wild strands.

“Huh?”

“Heard anything juicy lately? For example, someone leaving notes on tables?”

“Uuuuuh, no? What’s up with that?” She scowled. “Got an upper hand on me in office gossip?”

“Not at all,” you tried to defend yourself at her disgruntled look, “I was just asking myself, because… Because I found this strange note on my desk and I really just want to find out who wrote it.”

Only now, Anko paused in her work flow. For a second, you were sorry for stopping her, but when you saw how her eyes lit up at the piece of indeed juicy gossip you potentially could provide, you knew she wasn’t too sad about it. “A note? What kind of note?”

Suddenly, you remembered loudly that you had an important mail to write, which derailed Anko not one bit. If not for the angry glares she received for her loud demands from the other workers, you were sure Anko would’ve chased you down and tortured you for the best gossip.

Your last choice was Iruka. As the secretary for Minato, with his desk right in front of the bureau of their boss, he should have a relatively good overview of the entire open office and as a former teacher, he noticed things others didn’t—especially when someone was up to some mischief.

When you walked up to the brunet, his eyes met yours. Suspiciously enough, Iruka’s brown deer-eyes widened, only for the man to lower his head abruptly into an open file.

Suspicious.

Armed with a little smile and the knowledge Iruka hid something from you (and you specifically), you stepped in front of the man and just waited. Waited and watched how he became more and more nervous. He didn’t even read the file properly, just stared at the single lines and pretended to read. All of that façade just to ignore you, how you stood in front of his desk, with your arms crossed over your chest and still smiling.

It took only a few more minutes until Iruka gave in. With a sudden flinch of his entire body, he sat up straight, breathed loudly in like he had to steel himself for the upcoming confrontation, only to smile at you with a certain strained expression that told you that you had already won.

“What can I do for you today?” Iruka asked.

For a little moment, you allowed the silence to pressure him a little bit further, before cocking your head to the side. “I found a suspicious note at my work-station, Umino-san.”

“Okay…”

“This note made some very interesting remarks about my person and my work.”

“Alright.”

“Unfortunately,” your grin widened by a margin, “the writer forgot to leave their name on the note.”

Iruka’s right eyebrow twitched. “I don’t know how to help you with that, (L/N)-san. I’m neither responsible for the note nor have an inkling of a clue as to who wrote it.”

“But Umino-san, I really need to know who wrote that note. It’s important.”

He was struggling. You could see it, in the way his eyebrows wrinkled more and more, the nervous twitch of his fingers as he shuffled once again through the file without actually doing anything.

“How…” Iruka coughed, then spoke again. “How important exactly?”

“Very important. I believe it has the potential to interfere with my work.”

You felt a little bit bad when you told the poor man that lie, but the note potentially had the ability to fuck up your concentration, if you would constantly ask yourself who was interested enough to write a little secret letter to you. So, technically, you weren’t lying.

Certainly not.

Iruka gnawed at his lower lip. His eyes fluttered around, once looking at you, then flying over the heads of the marketers doing their research and working on their according projects. Was it maybe one of them who left the note? Why would Iruka hide the identity of that special someone? Did he really not know anything, or was he playing dumb?

So many questions. But you didn’t have to wait for long to get an answer out of the secretary, who seemed troubled, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. An impressive mix, you had to admit.

“Alright, alright,” he hissed, “I mean, I obviously can’t tell you who wrote the note, because I have no idea. But what I know is that Kakashi-san dropped the note on your table. You didn’t hear that from me, though.”

“Wait, wait, wait… You’re saying Kakashi Hatake delivered the note?” Your mouth fell open in helpless awe. “The Kakashi Hatake? The one responsible for the unbelievably successful marketing campaign for the clothing line Akatsuki? The one which launched them into the Olympus of sales? That Kakashi Hatake?”

To say you were hyperventilating a little bit would be an understatement. Kakashi Hatake’s work in the marketing world was a miracle come true. No matter if normal print, digital or a social media campaign, he had the talent to make it a resounding success. One reason you decided to apply for a job at Konohagakure Marketing had been his employment here. The little sliver of hope to meet and work with him had seemed more than tempting enough to quit your old job when you felt that you were stagnating.

And he was the one to write the note?

No. Stay calm. Iruka said he dropped the note off. Don’t jump the gun yet.

“Thank you very much, Umino-san,” you smiled at the secretary, “you were a great help.”

“Just don’t tell him I was the one to rat him out,” the man mumbled, all the while already hectically shuffling through his paperwork. You nodded and took your leave. Who knew what Hatake had in his hands to make Iruka that miserable and almost scared of him?

Finding Kakashi Hatake wasn’t too hard. Everyone knew he had a solemn corner where his desk stood; a little bit further away from all the other desks of your colleagues. Occasionally, Hatake would leave his desk and the chosen solitude for a little snack or walk around the premises, but could mostly be found there.

Your heart pounded awfully loud in your chest as you closed the distance to the desk. Even from a few meters away, his spiky, silver hair gave his position away; bent over his desk and scribbling into a worn-out, black notebook (with his left hand, you noted dully). God, from up to close, the man was even more intimidating than you initially thought. Well, not exactly “intimidating”, but there was something about Hatake which demanded attention, even though his eyes were warm and voice soft as he looked up from his notes.

His words though, cooled down your excitement of finally having a reason to talk with him to the levels of the Arctic.

“One coffee, black,” he said, before he lost interest in you again, “and if it’s cold like last time, I swear, I have to ask Minato what kind of criteria he uses to determine who’s fit to work here, because diligence and following of orders certainly is not in the job description, then.”

“… What?”

“Deaf, too?” You could hear Hatake’s rolling eyes. “Fine.” You didn’t even have time to react or speak up, and could only watch in slowly growing anger how your idol acted like the biggest asshole in the whole wide world. He scribbled hastily on a page in his notebook, ripped the page out with a determined, sharp motion and handed it to you. Still flabbergasted, you took the note and peered at the almost unreadable chicken scratch scrawled over half of the page. Only barely, and only because you indeed heard his earlier… order, you could make out the words “black coffee, absolutely no milk!!”

With two exclamation marks. And underlined. Like you were a total idiot.

Anger blocked your jaw as you folded the note and dropped it back onto his desk. “I’m not deaf nor stupid,” you hissed through gritted teeth, “and I’m certainly not an intern either.”

“Oh?” Again, Hatake peered up, before his shoulders flinched quickly upwards. “Well, nevertheless, you can get me a coffee. If you’re here to bother me, you certainly have time to go and fetch me one. Remember,” he picked up the dropped note and held it out to you, not even looking up from his desk anymore, “no milk. And please, sugar is also unnecessary.”

You had no idea what it was exactly that was the infamous last drop in an already overfilled bucket. His condescending tone, maybe. The sheer arrogance and nonchalance radiating from Hatake, for certain. Or was it the fact that he was still scribbling away and not even looking you in the eyes as he demanded to be brought a coffee by a new colleague?

Your smile was strained and hurt your very being as you crossed your arms over your chest and spoke up, which caused the Hatake-douchebag to finally look up from his fucking chicken scratch he produced (nothing like the neat and incarnate handwriting on your note).

“I’m not an intern, not a pretty face without a brain,” you informed him calmly, voice loud and clear, “and I’m certainly not getting you a coffee. I don’t care if you’re a fantastic marketer. I don’t give a single fuck if you’re this big brain behind some of the greatest marketing campaigns I’ve seen over the years. If you need to prove your manly ego so much, go into the bathroom and jerk off like anyone else, but don’t give a colleague on the same level as yourself the damn order to bring you coffee!”

Hatake only stared blankly at you. The beauty spot beneath his mouth twitched slightly, before he sighed deeply. “Fine, then don’t get me a coffee. I just figured that when you had nothing to do anyway and bothered me while I was actually working, then I could ask you to do something useful.”

“What the—! Do you hear yourself talking?”

“Yes, I can. Do you?”

“I swear to the gods—!”

Suddenly, a charismatic voice cut into the conversation. Hatake’s eyes widened, and he nearly jumped out of his chair at the sight of your boss Minato, his face concerned and dead serious at the same time. When you looked over his shoulder, you could see the rest of the office trying (not so obviously) to appear busy, all the while waiting with bated breaths and sharp ears to what would go down in the next minutes.

Damn, your dispute with Hatake apparently attracted much more attention than you wanted.

Immediately, you felt bad for throwing such a tantrum. So what if Kakashi Hatake wasn’t the idol you painted him to be. Only a few people really lived up to the heroic picture others painted of them in their heads. Still, Hatake really was a major asshole and went off to prove this point right in front of Minato.

“Sorry for the trouble,” he nodded into your direction, “I have honestly no idea what happened.”

No idea!? Is this guy serious?

“Let me remind you,” you growled, “you just ordered me around like I was nothing more than your servant. It doesn’t matter if you thought I was an intern, even speaking to the cleaner like this would be an absolute dick move!”

“I just noted how unoccupied you were as you stood before my desk, so I thought I would give you a simple task.”

“I simply wanted to ask for something small, but that’s now out of the window.” Miffed, you threw your hands into the air. “No one could know you would see it as an opportunity to show how much you look down on people.”

Like your banter was a fascinating and intense tennis match, Minato’s head jumped back and forth between your jabs and quips. Your boss seemed positively puzzled and, at the same time, the frustration growing inside the usually-so-friendly man.

Before Hatake could say anything back (he had already an answer prepared; you could read it in the way his lips already opened), Minato stepped in. “Now, children. Keep calm. Kakashi, we talked about this. And (Y/N)…”

When speaking with Hatake, Minato had a soft, almost fatherly tone. When turning towards you, his voice changed ever so slightly, and you realized with a sudden jolt that you were new and just argued with one of the most successful and creative people in the industry, just because he insulted some nobody.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled before your boss could reprimand you in any way, “to cause such a ruckus. It wasn’t my intention. I will take any punishment you see fit.”

In comparison to Hatake, you were easily interchangeable. You had no prestigious campaign or successes under your belt, not like Hatake. What kind of unholy demon had ridden you when Hatake made his comment about the damn coffee order? Ridiculous to jump onto such an easily ignorable conversation. If you just would've swallowed your pride a little bit.

Butthurt, that’s what you were. You had looked up to Hatake, looked forward to having a reason to speak with him. And now, with the secret admirer and the mysterious note, the reason had been a given.

Just like so many movie villains and superheroes, you had met your idol and were thoroughly disappointed and let down. And considering this wasn’t a movie, there would be no redemption moment for Kakashi; there would be no apology for his words and no reconciliation; just the bitter reality of working together for the next months and years.

You should have known better than to listen to your emotions, that hope of thinking even just maybe, maybe, he wrote that note. Why would he after all? You were new and had no achievements - nothing like the god-like, almighty, invincible Kakashi Hatake.

With all the dignity you could muster (and this was by far not a small amount, but in the face of apologizing for something you didn’t feel very apologetic at all, it seemed suddenly very, very hard to gather said dignity), you turned around and nodded at Hatake.

“Please, excuse my behavior. I was simply… surprised.”

Hatake’s little arrogant grin made your fucking blood boil until it felt like raw fire was burning through your veins. “Oh, apology accepted. Would you just give me your name, so I can remember it next time when I ask for a coffee—!”

“Kakashi.”

“Sorry, Minato. For the future, when we will work together,” he said in the same tone a kindergartener talked to one of the children he watched over and had a childish crush on him.

Aw, honey, you like me so much? I also like you a lot, but do you see this guy over there? Maybe you want to play with him for a bit, what do you think?

A total humiliation. Like your little spat wasn’t enough, noticed by the entire office and the few friends you made. Now, you were even forced to apologize under the watchful eyes of your boss and to the eternal amusement of Hatake.

“(Y/N) (L/N). Pleased to be working with you.” You didn’t even attempt to reach out and shake his hand. Hatake also didn’t move, just continued to smile this damn infuriating smile. Even the mole right beneath his lips seemed to taunt and mock you; a few of his silver strands hung into his forehead and the damn scar crossing his left eye only gave him a rugged, dangerous aura.

He knew it. He knew how attractive he was, the damn bastard.

When you went back to your desk and ignored or brushed off the worried glances and questions Kurenai and Shizune gave you, you were boiling in your own anger. With more force than necessary, you tugged your chair backwards and dropped into the cushions. Your eyes fluttered over the desk, still charged with the sheer frustration and anger of having to deal with a bad case of idol-disappointment and embarrassment, when you spotted another foreign object on your desk. Another note, same paper, same logo, neatly folded and hazardly dropped onto your keyboard.

So, it couldn’t be Hatake, if the different handwriting wasn’t proof enough. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to ask him about the fact that he delivered a letter for your secret admirer and probably never would, so that option was now out of the quotation.

One look around to make sure no one was watching (or if somebody watched you out of the corner of their eyes), then you quickly picked up the second note of the day and unfolded it.

Hatake is an asshole. Don’t mind him too much.

I’m sorry though you had to go through that. I wish I would be brave enough to come forward and directly speak with you, but this has to wait for some time.

And don’t believe this was the last note, either. Except if you don’t want them? I would also accept that. Just glue either a red or green post-it to your PC. I can figure the rest out.

Unbeknownst to you, a little smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reread the little note. Someone, who was concerned for your sake, had witnessed the confrontation with Kakashi and quickly written this note and delivered it in order to cheer you up. Successfully, you might add. Even though the possibility of the ordeal still being an elaborate prank was high, someone obviously took their time to write these two thoughtful, nice notes, and you appreciated that deeply.

Carefully, you pulled the drawer open and dropped the note into the small box, all the while, you could feel how the tension and disappointment from finding out that your idol was a huge and utter asshole slowly left your mind and body.

Well, you certainly wouldn’t mind receiving more nice notes. Who knew, maybe the prankster would get tired of writing notes soon enough and vanish without a word (note)? Until then, you would enjoy these little letters; nothing more than a ray of sunlight in your working day.

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virtualcarrot · 6 days

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[KKIR]Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt11

Part 10

Prompt 7: Valentine’s Day

There's something surreal about Iruka’s first day back.

For starters, memories hound him. Only yesterday, it seems, or a lifetime ago--except, no, it’s right now --he was-- is? --roaming these halls in search of Naruto. The walls were bereft of glittery puns and eye-searing posters, then, and he doesn’t remember any lone heart-shaped balloon buoying along the curved top of the atrium.

Pink, white and red hearts also hang from the ceilings of the corridor, leftovers from the Valentine’s week that he missed. From experience, he knows that the decorations will keep til somewhere around early March, at which point the first teacher to jolt into awareness of the passing time will rock-paper-scissor a team of colleagues into putting them away.

For once, he’s grateful to see them linger. It helps shrug off the prickle of unease.

Still, a mounting sense of disquiet follows his climb up the stairs to his classroom. His hand falters on the doorknob. In the corridor, the joyful shouts of dozens of children stomping about fade into a haze of dread. He watches himself shove the classroom door open, stagger out against Mizuki. At the foot of the opposite wall, the dark shape of a knife long since picked taunts him.

Before Suzume across from him can offer any awkward words of support, he pushes it all down and steps inside the classroom.

Anyway, besides that, the greatest hurdle to his return to normalcy is his students’ behavior.

It’s impeccable.

“You get five minutes to ask questions, and then we’re picking up where we left off,” he warns with a sigh, hoping to clear the air.

In spite of the tense ripple that passes through his audience, nobody speaks. Even Naruto stays quiet, dropping his gaze to his fiddling fingers. They must've been briefed while Iruka was away, and pretty severely at that.

Eventually, a trembling hand lifts, from a most unexpected source.

“Yes, Hinata?”

“I--Hm. Is Iruka-sensei okay?”

All eyes, even those thus far averted, focus on Iruka with terrifying intensity.

He forces out a laugh. “I’m fine,” he says, but they seem entirely unconvinced. If anything, the half-truth is leaving too much room for their wild imagination.

Luckily, Iruka was already well-practiced in the art of defusion as a teen, and has grown into an adult unafraid to weaponize it.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I mean it. Having an achy knee at my age is embarrassing, and also my ribs hurt,” he admits sheepishly. Then he cocks a thumb at his own chest and grins. “But that’s nothing! Have I told you I used to be part of the karate team back in the days?”

A collective groan echoes in the room because yes, he has.

“Just give me a few weeks and I bet I could compete again. Picture this: your teacher, a tournament champion! You’ll get to say you knew me well before the fame.” He pinches his chin thoughtfully. “Now that’s an honor.”

A few pained eyerolls follow--the usual response to a lame teacher’s bragging--and then they're back on track. Iruka finally gets to turn to the board and write the day's lesson plan. And if he avoids reaching for the highest part, well, nobody comments.

In truth, he could not be more thankful for Hiruzen’s visit on the weekend he got home. The old Headmaster took a seat at Iruka's dull little dining table, sucked on his unlit pipe, and waited while Iruka clumsily made some tea before his indulgent eyes. Then he said, “I look forward to seeing you back in one week’s time,” and Iruka had no other choice but to take the time off.

The days that followed might have been an excruciating kind of tedious but they were, it turns out, necessary.

And he did get a few visits. Anko was quick to declare his get-well shrine too cumbersome to keep around. She got rid of it through the means of a home delivery. For his part, Naruto made no less than three post-school detours by his place, much to Daikoku and Iruka's exasperation. The last such instance had Kakashi awkwardly trailing behind, looking sheepish and uncomfortable and like he wasn't sure he was welcome, which was ridiculous in light of everything but also made Iruka question if he had hallucinated whatever had passed between them when Kakashi helped him home. And then stayed.

Is it fair to hold someone to the way they acted right after a life-threatening event?

Anyway on Friday evening Kotetsu and Izumo dropped by with their own haul and Iruka spent his last weekend of forced rest eating overdue Valentine chocolate from the teachers’ room and trying not to fret about Monday.

He shouldn’t have worried. In spite of the constant mild pain and the glint-- it’s-a-blade-it’s-a-blade --of a far-off passing car, the day goes fine. He’s just a bit disappointed that it isn't one of Kakashi's appointed days at KMH, but eh , the man has other priorities.

“So, how was it?” Anko asks, plonking the coffee maker back into place.

It's the end of the day. Why she sees fit to finish the thing at such a late hour is anybody's guess.

Iruka shrugs. It almost doesn't hurt.

“Honestly? I expected much worse. Kids were eerily well behaved.”

“Yeah, we had an Assembly while you were away. Hiruzen-sensei was intense.” She pauses with a considering look, which is how Iruka realizes he has begun frowning. “He didn't name names, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But you know?” he asks, feeling the familiar swell of protectiveness within him.

She pulls a face and dismisses it with a wave of indifference. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Honestly Iruka, that kid of yours... You really love the dumb ones.”

And that rankles, a bit.

“Nobody saw it coming,” Iruka says, and feels the echo of Kakashi's voice in his mind soothing some of the guilt from the words.

Something about Anko’s mug must be particularly fascinating, because she drops her gaze to it and sloshes it around.

“Yeah, we didn't,” she murmurs, before offering him a fiercely rueful grin. “As I said: the dumb ones.”

Walking across the main hall proves even more unnerving now that it’s empty. The memory of climbing down those stairs on a busted knee and with freshly cracked ribs burns bright in Iruka's mind. In the muted light, the paper hearts on the walls struggle to dispel it. He half expects to see Ibiki standing on the lawn when he exits.

Instead, he finds Kakashi, reading against a lamppost.

To his credit, he tucks the obnoxious little book away once Iruka reaches talking distance.

“Please, tell me you didn't bike here,” Kakashi says with no other form of greeting.

“I--uh, no? I took the bus,” Iruka finds it in himself to stutter, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. He's kept it on the light side but it still weighs uncomfortably.

Kakashi's gaze lands on it, lingers, and then moves up to meet his eyes. “Care for a ride home?”

“Oh you don't h--” Iruka begins to demur. He stops. Reassesses. Rolls his eyes at himself and smiles back. “Yes, please. And thank you.”

Kakashi dips his head like he’s pleased with the words and hands him something. Iruka takes it, because that’s the polite thing to do. While he's busy turning it over, his bag gets tugged from his side and he ducks out of the strap to accommodate it, trying to figure out whatever it is Kakashi gave him.

It's chocolate. Fair trade and organic, the labels say, which Iruka supposes is nice, but an otherwise pretty plain tablet of 60% cocoa chocolate. And it definitely doesn’t explain why Iruka’s distinctly lighter all of a sudden.

Wait.

By the time he looks up to argue, Kakashi has already shouldered the bag. He's looking so easily unconcerned about it that Iruka struggles to find any grip to hang his grievance on. He settles for an uncomprehending glance at the chocolate.

“Thanks?” he says, feeling like the worst sort of tool, but also like at this point he might as well be spiraling on an ice rink and if he trips Kakashi on the way down well, the guy kind of asked for it. Iruka didn't get this wrong-footed all on his lonesome.

Kakashi shrugs and turns away, keeping him in sight with a nonchalant side-eye.

“You weren't here last week,” he says, as if that’s in any way news to Iruka, as if it explains anyt--

Kakashi’s ears are flushed.

Iruka hears a disbelieving chuckle bubble out of him. “Oh, come on. Really?”

The ears turn even redder, shielded on each side by Kakashi’s shoulders. He strides ahead in a way that’s disturbingly similar to a hasty retreat.

“The car’s over there,” he announces.

Chocolate bar safely tucked away, Iruka falls into step with him and bumps their shoulders together. It jostles his sides and sparks a light twinge, but It’s a small price to pay for Kakashi's renewed attention, however wary it may be.

Not that Iruka has any idea what to follow that with, so he simply says, ”I'm glad,” because at least that’s true. It’s a nice gesture.

The mortification recedes from Kakashi’s flush. He scratches the pink skin beneath the eyepatch with self-aware embarrassment and slows his gait. The crinkles at the corner of his visible eye betray a soft little smile.

Iruka wonders if he’s allowed to let their hands brush together. He doesn’t act on the thought.

Kakashi remains a pleased sort of quiet until they stop by a deep green Alto Works that's seen better days. “It's Gai's,” he says at Iruka's inquisitive look.

Like Iruka, he usually bikes to work.

There’s an implication, there, that sparks like hope. Iruka’s chest is light and full at once in a way it has no right to be with this amount of crushed ribs. His throat tightens, but that doesn’t stop his mouth from opening.

“Would you like to go out? With me? On a date?” he blurts out, feeling miserable and uncool and brave all at once.

Kakashi squirms like he's not doing much better, and gives a small nod that's all the more awkward for his attempt to make it suave. “Sure.”

They’re absolutely terrible at this.

Iruka can't help but grin. It wrinkles the scar across his nose, it’s so wide.

“How about the coffee shop?”

It's way past the time for caffeine but that shop stays open late and, anyway, it's not about the drink.

It's never been about the drinks.

Kakashi blinks. “You mean… now?”

“Oh. You don't want to?” Iruka asks, and okay, maybe he's teasing a bit. Just a bit.

The dry look Kakashi gives him speaks to his awareness that he's being played. It only makes the nearly rushed way he unlocks the car and then ushers Iruka inside even more flattering.

Iruka's much too old to be considering making out in a car, he reminds himself in the stifling air inside, charged with the unnamed thrill of expectation. He also isn't sure--Kakashi can be at once upfront and evasive, and that's when he’s not busy being plain withdrawn. Iruka doesn't know what liberties he can take. Out of all those he wants.

When Kakashi pulls up in a parking space and secures the handbrake, the coffee shop across the street is closed.

As is the custom. Every single start of the week.

Iruka throws his head back with a groan. “Oh shit, it’s Monday.”

“Oh, is it?” comes the replies, dry as the desert.

A thought strikes Iruka then, of just how fast he'd have bristled, months ago, at the wry raise of Kakashi's visible eyebrow.

Now, he just snorts and rolls his eyes, complicit in the teasing. “Pft, don’t give me that, I got confused. You’re not usually around on Mondays.”

Kakashi hums acknowledgment and grants the point with a tip of his head.

They both stare out at the closed coffee shop. There's a mild sense of betrayal about the situation, like they’re both actors of a planned scene whose director threw away the script.

“You didn't call,” Kakashi says.

Sheepish, Iruka scratches the bridge of his nose. It’s true, he didn’t. He barely sent Kakashi a couple of texts. In the cold light of solitude, he found himself struggling to sort through the events. Emotions had been running high. He got betrayed by a friend. He was in pain. He didn’t know how much of what he read into Kakashi’s care wasn’t just pure projection.

“I was too miserable to talk, to be honest,” is the partial truth he’s willing to admit to. “But I was glad to see you when you dropped off Naruto,” he offers as a tentative peace offering.

That gets Kakashi to perk up.

“You were?”

“Yes? I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

Uncharacteristically bashful, Kakashi glances away with a murmur of: “I didn't want to impose.”

Iruka looks at him like he's grown two heads. “After everything you've done…”

Gone is the shyness. Kakashi’s eye sharpens at the words. “You shouldn't feel indebted,” he says somewhat cuttingly.

They share a look. Even hidden behind his perpetually creased coat, Iruka can tell Kakashi's body's drawn tight as a bow. He’s leaning back and slightly away, like he’s gearing up, maybe for a fight, definitely for a blow.

As far as Iruka’s concerned, he doesn’t intend to go for either.

“That’s not what this is,” he tells Kakashi.

“Then what is this?”

“What was the chocolate for?”

“You know what. But you shouldn't consider it out of obligation.”

The long-suffering groan those words draw out of Iruka surprises them both. In all fairness, Iruka would have been hard-pressed to suppress it even with an advanced warning.

He slaps a hand over his eyes.

“You’re so… Fuck, but Anko is right.”

“What?” Kakashi asks, sounding like he thinks he should be offended and doesn't understand why he isn't.

Iruka drops his hand to level him with the full weight of his glare. Kakashi greets it by leaning in with his single eye wide-open. Expectant.

“You're a pain in the neck, Kakashi. I'm pretty sure you're responsible for half the gray hairs I've gained this school year.”

“Only half?” Kakashi mutters sotto voce like he can't help himself.

Iruka wants to strangle him. Iruka wants--

“I really want to kiss you.”

In his rush to deliver, Kakashi snaps off the left strap of his mask.

His lips are warm against Iruka’s, slightly moist from being covered all day. His jawline tilts up, vulnerably exposed. Iruka can’t resist the urge to cup it, thumb settling right beneath his hidden eye and stroking the early rise of his cheekbone. The skin is smooth there, even more so on the downwards slash of his old scar, buffered by time. In contrast, his chin tingles a bit, light pricks of uneven stubble rubbing against Iruka. With his pale hair and skin, Kakashi probably doesn’t bother shaving nearly as close as Iruka has to, especially with how often he keeps his face concealed.

Iruka chuckles at the thought, little puffs of air between them that Kakashi answers with an inquisitive hum, and that Iruka swallows back by closing in again.

Turns out, he’s not too old to make out in a car after all.

When Kakashi’s little moans finish lighting his every nerve on fire, though, Iruka’s forced to concede to the urgent need for a recess.

He pulls off with a gasp. A flash of concern creases Kakashi's brows, then clears in the light of understanding. Before moving away, he catches Iruka’s mouth in one last searing kiss, and it takes every single drop of willpower in Iruka not to pull him in again.

Instead, he steals a few pecks while they part, until they finally drop each against their own backrest, out of breath.

Iruka bursts out laughing.

“I can’t believe our first kiss was in a cramped car.”

Not without humor, Kakashi considers the driving stick between them, and bobs his head in a so-so motion. “It’s good dissuasion.”

“Yeah,” Iruka says, watching Kakashi's hand creep closer to the loose bangs escaped from his ponytail. He allows a few gentle attempts to brush them out of his face before remembering himself. “Gods, please don’t do this or we’ll start all over again, and I don't think my ribs can take it.”

Kakashi drops his hand with an amused snort. He also takes the time to check the way Iruka's carrying himself but he doesn't seem overly alarmed by what he sees, even as he asks if Iruka's okay.

“I'm fine,” Iruka says breezily. “It just aches, twisting around like this. Worth it, though,” he adds with a grin.

The pleased flush that takes over Kakashi's cheeks is making it very difficult not to lean in again.

“Yeah?” Kakashi asks cautiously.

Iruka holds his breath against the pain just long enough for a lightning taste of Kakashi's lips.

“Yeah.”

Kakashi stares at him adoringly. Iruka feels undeserving.

He rubs the back of his neck. “It'd probably be easier on a couch,” he says, looking from under his lashes. “You're taking me home anyway, and I owe you coffee.”

“No thanks, you need a better coffee maker,” Kakashi mutters, but he also starts the car.

In the end, Iruka makes them both some dated herbal tea he finds in the back of a cabinet, just so they have an excuse to linger.

The worst of the urgency has died down, though. Kakashi does actually take a sip of his drink after sitting down--and also wrinkles his nose at the quality, because he's a snob.

“I really like you,” he says after setting the mug on one of the discarded envelopes Iruka converts into makeshift coasters.

“I gathered, yeah,” Iruka replies brazenly, trying to hide the spike of his nerves. He didn't expect Kakashi to be this blunt.

He worries what else Kakashi could be so blunt about.

“I mean it,” Kakashi carries on, with only a brief falter to his apparent confidence. “I don't--I don't usually bother dating, I'm not even interested, most of the time. So I wanted you to know, I don't take this lightly.”

A single-eyed stare should not be this intense. Iruka struggles with a sense of unreality, staring at Kakashi’s unmasked face, at the expression of near solemnity that carried his confession.

As the seconds of breathless silence drag on, Kakashi begins pushing up, impassive. His voice is offensively businesslike when he speaks. “I don't want to pressure you. How about I go so you can think about it?”

“How about you give me a minute to process, first?!” Iruka snaps back.

Kakashi lowers himself back slowly.

Resisting the gravitational pull of his couch, Iruka braces on his knees and digs his thumbs into the space between his eyebrows. He wishes they could just ignore this step in the dance and go back to fooling around like spontaneous teenagers, but he's also thankful for Kakashi's pragmatism. It's nothing he hasn't thought about himself, after all.

He sinks back.

“I don't take this lightly either,” he tells the wall space above his hand-me-down television. Then, because Kakashi deserves more than cowardice, he meets his eye. “You're my coworker. I don't date coworkers.” A self-conscious chuckle escapes him. “I mean, I haven’t dated at all in a while either, because who has the time to even go looking--But I like you. You're… extremely maddening in all senses of the term.”

“Thanks?”

Iruka terribly wants to card a hand through his gray hair.

He ducks his head and gives a bashful squeeze to the back of his own neck instead. “It's not bad. I don't have to worry if you'll keep up with me. If anything, you make me feel like I can keep up with you , which is really flattering.”

There's a stiffening at his side but Kakashi doesn't interrupt.

“I mean… I have my temper,” Iruka adds, in distantly amused self-awareness. “You have your pride. But you still let me apologize when I'm in the wrong. And then you let us move on, which… I can’t tell you… Not having to halve myself to fit… It’s--I really appreciate it.”

Kakashi kisses him.

Just surges against him and kisses him.

It's the strangest sensation, like a sudden crashing wave going in slow motion right before the point of impact. Kakashi pushes him down into the cushions with a strength that feels unrelenting and a gentleness that takes out any sense of demand. The errant pillow that could've caused any discomfort is pushed to the floor. Iruka’s legs are given room to climb on the couch. Kakashi straddles his hips, bowing over with his hands digging in the couch to keep his weight off. And kisses him, urgent and slightly shaky.

Intending to soothe him, Iruka reaches up to rub his back. When his hand meets the lower end of his untucked shirt, though, he doesn't course correct. The skin is scorching hot under his touch.

Kakashi lets out a punched out moan.

“God damnit,” he whispers against the corner of Iruka's mouth, trying to collect himself, “you’re not being fair .”

Iruka can't resist kissing his chin. He's not doing much better himself. Truthfully, he did not expect to still have it in him, this sudden outpouring of desire. He considers twisting his hips to flip them over, and reaches the devastating conclusion that he'll have to wait a bit longer before he can fully enjoy having Kakashi pinned down.

What a thought, though.

He moves aside a bit, giving his left arm room to spread so it's not so uncomfortably trapped against his side. Kakashi accommodates him easily.

His expression is so terribly fond that Iruka feels his insides squirm in a guilty sort of distress. That's… a lot of emotions, there. Aimed at him, of all people. He's usually the one doing the emoting.

“I just wish you'd be a bit more careful about silly things like safety regulations,” Iruka jokes, trying for levity.

Kakashi gives him a long, searching look then kisses him again, the asshole.

“I like that you care,” he says very seriously when he's done, because he's contrarian like that. His expression doesn't waver even when his cheeks go gently pink as he considers his next words. “And I think it'd feel really good if Iruka-sensei were to care this strongly about me too.”

Iruka stares up, throat tight, so tight it's a wonder he's even able to speak next.

“I don't think that'll be a problem,” he chokes out.

Kakashi leans in and rewards the honesty with another kiss.

#naruto #kakairu #kkir #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #naruto : fic #my scrawl

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shadowwolflady · 25 days

Text

Sneeze

Rai was out with Anko and Kurenai at a restaurant. The girls were chatting over their food. Rai suddenly made a high pitched sneeze into the elbow of her long sleeve shirt.

Anko and Kurenai turned to look at her.

“That was cute.” Anko commented as a mischievous grin crossed her face. “Kakashi must be talking about you.”

Rai lifted her head and looked at Anko in shock. Noises came from her throat as she fought her embarrassment. “Sh-shut up!” She wound up stuttering as she looked off to the side bashfully as heat rose to her face.

“Anko, don't tease her.” Kurenai told her.

Anko turned and grinned to Kurenai, “Awe, but she's so adorable when she's flustered.”

#naruto #original character #naruto oc anbu #oc #kakashi x oc #naruto fanfiction #naruto oc fanfiction #anko mitarashi #kurenai yuhi #kakashi #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei

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depressedhatakekakashi · 1 year

Text

Sunlights Warmth

prompt: True Loves Kiss

Words: 1207

@kakagaievents

“You have to kiss me,” Gai looked over the bottle he had just spun, grinning at Kakashi while their friends stood all around them watching. “That’s what the bottle says.”

As if Kakashi could have forgotten. He’d watched the bottle spin between them, whizzing past every other person until coming to a stop, pointing its nozzle directly at Kakashi.

He still wasn’t quite sure why he had agreed to partake in this game. Kissing wasn’t something he made a habit of doing with just anyone.

In fact, to date he’d only kissed two other people before Obito.

Yugao, who he’d kissed on a desperate last second attempt to keep their cover after she’d said something that could have tipped off their target to their true intentions. She’d slapped him as soon as they got back to Konoha and told him to think of some other way to deal with her mistake next time.

The other kiss was far more passionate.

A sweet moment shared between him and Rin shortly before the day she died. A moment he’d granted her when she asked, hoping against all odds that there would be fireworks, or something. Anything that would allow him to return the love she so freely gave to him.

It hadn’t worked out, and it was the first time since Obito’s death that he’d seen her cry.

Now it was time to disappoint Gai, just as he had done with Rin.

To kiss him, just as he had done with the other two, and feel nothing in his cold, broken heart.

“Come on,” Asuma struck a hand across his back and laughed when he glared at him. “It won’t be so bad. I bet Gai tastes like dango.”

“Or curry,” Anko piped up. “Or maybe he tastes like Ramen. He did have some for lunch.”

Kakashi could do little but roll his eyes at the comments. Whatever Gai tasted like didn’t matter to him because at the end of the day it would end the same as it always had.

An empty feeling in his chest that would confirm what he’d already learned from Rin and Yugao. That he was incapable of Romantic love.

“Kiss!” Gemma lifted his drink up into the air and laughed. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

“Alright, alright,” Kakashi couldn’t believe he had agreed to this, but he was stuck now. There was no choice but to kiss his best friend otherwise the others would never let him hear the end of it. “Gai?”

“Ready when you are, Rival.” Gai beamed, as excited for this as he was for any of their challenges.

Now or never.

Taking a deep breath, Kakashi tucked a finger under the top of his mask and yanked it down as he leaned in. Mentally, he’d prepared himself perfectly for this moment. Gone through every possible scenario he could think of and ensured he wouldn’t do anything embarrassing.

Only when Gai’s lips met his did he realise his mistake. His failure to account for the exact scenario he found himself in.

Oh.

A pleasant, warm feeling bloomed in his chest. As if he was being dipped directly into sunlight.

His gaze locked on Gai, noticing right away that he’d already closed his eyes and submerged himself straight into this feeling.

Comfort.

Familiarity.

Love.

All of those words buzzed through his mind, taunting him as he stared directly at his best friend's face. Took in the sight of Gai’s soft expression while they lingered there, locked in a kiss that Kakashi hoped never ended.

The heat spread. Moving up from his stomach and touching his cheeks. Gathering in his face until he felt like he was overheating.

At this moment Kakashi couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful than the man in front of him. The curve of Gai’s eyes seared into his mind, a treasured memory that he would cling to for the rest of his life. The feeling of his lips, which tasted nothing like ramen or dango but instead something new. Something unique to Gai. All of it made its home in his memories.

Precious, beautiful moments that he was certain would get him through even the darkest days.

“Aww, cute,” Anko snickered. “He’s blushing.”

Panick.

Wrenching himself away from Gai, he grabbed his mask and yanked it back over his face in a desperate attempt to cover bright red cheeks.

“I-“

“I knew it,” Asuma stretched a hand out towards Genma. “Cough up the Ryo.”

Genma grunted his disapproval. “Damn, the one time I was relying on your Kakashi,”

Kakashi might have rolled his eyes or made a snarky comment about not relying on others if it were any other day. If he was doing anything else.

In this moment, though, he could only lower his eyes in shame.

“I-“

“Ramen?” Gai asked, the grin on his face even widder than it had been before. “Did I taste like Ramen like Anko said?”

He simply shook his head.

“Ih, then dango!” Gai cheered. “That would make the most sense. Dango is my favourite food.”

“Uh, Gai,” Kurenai poked him in the side and chuckled when he let out a loud yelp. “Sorry.”

“What was that for?”

“Well,” lofting a hand, she extended a slender finger and pointed towards Kakashi. “I think you broke him.”

“Broke him? My eternal rival?” Gai almost sounded offended on his behalf. “I could never. Kakashi is the coolest person in all of- uh, Kakashi?”

He’s not really sure what happened next. All he knows is that the warmth in his face was begining to overwhelm him. As if he was standing in the middle of the desert with the blazing sun beating down at him.

An appropriate comparison to make, he thought. After all, Maito Gai was like the sun itself.

Bright, warm, always there for him.

“Kakashi!”

A cold hand came down hard against his forehead and it was only then that he realised he’d fallen over. All of his friends' faces hovered over him, each with their own worried expression.

There was only one he cared about, though.

Once he couldn’t drag his eyes away even now, with the ceiling hanging over him and an overwhelming heating burning his very soul.

“I-“

“Do you need someone else to kiss you?” Asuma teased. “I think Gemma is up to the job. “

“No.”

“Anko.”

“No.” He grunted when Anko responded by slapping his stomach.

“Would you like Gai to kiss you again?”

Kakashi thought about it for a moment. If Gai kissed him again maybe he’d feel that pleasent warmth again. The one that enveloped him and made him feel wanted.

Loved.

“…maybe.”

Their faces disappeared suddenly, every single one except Gai’s, and laughter rang through the air. Kakashi didn’t care, though.

Gai was there.

He was looking at him.

“One more,” his rival smiled down at him. “For good measure.”

“For good measure,” Kakashi agreed while Gai tucked a finger under the top of his mask and yanked it down. “Just one more.”

Love.

That’s what it was.

When Gai leaned down and kissed him again, there was a feeling of love that squeezed his heart so tight it hurt.

A feeling that Kakashi would happily chase for the rest of his life, even if he didn’t deserve it.

#Kakagai #Kakagai Valentine week 2023 #Kakashi’s sick of the elders #And honestly #good for him

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sunstaar · 2 years

Text

This is Home

Kakashi Hatake x fem!OC

Word Count: 5k art commissioned from the talented @kankuroplease !

Ao3

Summary: Kakashi now knew that after so many years of yearning for it, he finally found home.

Underneath Fuyumi’s fingertips, the juice flowing out of the sweet watermelon felt sticky each time her newly sharpened knife cut through its wet flesh. Occasionally, some of the watermelon seeds buried within it fell out of the deep red and right onto her white kitchen counter. By now, the previously pristine white had been stained by variations of the same soft pink and red of the watermelon, leaving behind splotches of it practically everywhere. Even her fingers which were holding the knife steadily had dots of pink and red all over them and grew sticky over time, almost as if they were attached to the handle of the knife by now. With her right hand, she went ahead and placed the neatly cut pieces of watermelon into one of her favorite bowls: one in a soft shade of beige and decorated with small silhouettes of various dogs decorating it (or ninken, as Kakashi liked to refer to them).

Once Fuyumi cut the last piece of the watermelon and made sure that she used up the fruit to its full extent, she first stored away the remainder of the green rind so that later it could land in the compost. Then, she began to thoroughly clean the knife she had just been using and her workspace, the smell of her cleaning products slightly stinging in her nose. In response, she ruffled it and almost let out a sneeze, one she luckily managed to keep in. Lastly, Fuyumi washed her hands and spent most time to get rid of the red staining underneath her fingers, ‘a natural nail polish’, as her friend Anko would comment with a laugh.

At the mere thought of what the purple-haired would say, Fuyumi also had to laugh. A day with Anko would never be a boring one, that was what she had learned after over a decade of friendship with the other woman. Save for the borderline offensive teasing Anko subjected her to, Fuyumi could not remember a single day on which she ever regretted their friendship. There was also the fact that she owed Anko a lot, such as that without her best friend, Fuyumi’s relationship with a certain silver-haired would have most likely remained more of a dream than coming closer to reality.

(Fuyumi theorized that at one point, Anko became fed up with the constant whining of both of her lovesick teammates, which led her to push at least one of them into a relationship with their target of affection. Not that Fuyumi could ever blame her for that.)

With a loud snap, she attached the matching beige lid to her bowl and closed it. Once, she turned it around and onto its head to make sure nothing would fall out, and lucky for her, the lid did not even budge a little. Then Fuyumi repeated the same process for the collection of other bowls placed all over her counter and kitchen table. They were bowls with various animals decorating them, such as mice, turtles, cats, and her personal favorites, small white snakes standing out against the shiny black surface of the bowl filled with cut and washed strawberries.

As she looked at her collection of bowls and the food stored within them, Fuyumi could not help but feel rather proud of herself. With her hands resting on her hips, she took a good look at her work before her gaze traveled over to the clock hanging on her wall, reminding her that there was little time left before Kakashi would come to pick her up for their date.

There was only packing everything left, and that shouldn’t take up much of her time.

On her kitchen table stood a picnic basket, delicately woven out of wicker and decorated with a red and white checkered lining at the lid, waiting to be filled with all the goods she spent so long preparing. It had been a well-thought-out gift of her mother’s, ‘a housewarming gift’, as the elderly woman had called it.

First went into the basket the miso soup Fuyumi had cooked the day before as an extra safety precaution she took, just to make sure that she would not mess this up. While the eggplant did look quite awkward and even miserable swimming in the soup, it couldn’t be denied that she did her best, despite her lack of cooking skill. Just to be sure, she checked the lid of the container once more and also the sides, noting how earlier she had heated it up to a temperature warm enough to be eaten later.

The various fruits she had cut up into bite-size pieces followed within their respective bowls, all sealed off with a matching lid. With the same precision she always dedicated to a round of Jenga, Fuyumi began stacking the many bowls on top of each other within the basket, making sure that none of them would topple over in case she tripped along the way. That also meant that tissues of various colors were stuffed in between the bowls to keep them from clanking against each other. While that made her little construction look messier than it did before, the safety hazard it posed did reduce.

Satisfied with her stacking, Fuyumi closed the lid of the basket and adjusted the cherry red bow attached to the lining of it to give it a fuller appearance. Even more satisfaction began piling up within her at the sight of her finished work, so much so that Fuyumi couldn’t stop herself from smiling widely.

To say she was excited would be a major understatement. She was so much so excited that as soon as the sound of her doorbell echoed through her apartment, she bolted out of her kitchen and toward the front door. Halfway, however, Fuyumi managed to regain most of her composure and slowed down to take the time to adjust the dress she wore and tighten her ponytail nervously. One last time, she checked herself and her appearance in the mirror hanging by the front door and once she confirmed it to be alright, she pulled open the door to see Kakashi standing on her doorstep, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Fuyumi’s smile from before bloomed on her features again. “Kakashi! Hello!”

“You sound like you’re surprised to see me.” Kakashi mused with a smile visible from underneath his mask. Just as visible was the smallest hint of a flush peaking out from underneath it.

“I’m surprised you aren’t late.” She teased.

“To meet up with you? Never.”

Smooth fucker, Fuyumi thought. There was barely anything that could make his wit falter.

“I’m flattered,” Major understatement there, based on how her cheeks were dusted pink. “and happy to see you.”

Kakashi had to clear his throat to regain his faux confident posture, his hands beginning to tremble the slightest bit as he held out the bouquet to his girlfriend. “I bought these for you.”

Carefully, Fuyumi took the stunning bouquet of flowers into her hands, which accidentally brushed his in the process. Both of them were startled at the sudden contact, and she even murmured a quiet apology, immediately moving to cradle the bouquet closer to herself. Her skin felt hotter than it did before, and the bouquet grew heavier in her grasp.

Fuyumi looked down to marvel at the undeniable beauty of the bouquet gifted to her. Heliotropes stood out the most within the bouquet due to the sheer abundance of them to strengthen their meaning, perfectly complimented by thornless dark pink and red roses. Red, white, and pink camellias were sprinkled in between and further tied the work of art together into one message, one solely dedicated to the receiver of it. A message hidden within the language of the flowers, brought together by the soft green paper the bouquet was wrapped in and by a bow almost the exact shade as her eyes were.

“Thank you, Kakashi,” She said, removing her gaze from it to look her boyfriend in his open eye. It was then that she noticed that he wore an eye patch to cover his Sharingan eye when his hitai-ate wouldn’t. With a distinct design of the silhouette of a pug stitched into the right corner of it, she would recognize the handmade work anywhere. “Hey, that’s the eye patch my mom made for you!”

Kakashi nodded with a newfound glint of excitement in his charcoal eye. “You’re right, it is,” With his now free hand, he delicately touched the eye patch to adjust it for it to sit comfortably on his skin. “I like it too much not to wear it, pebbles.”

Fuyumi let out a groan. “I thought we were beyond that name by now.” How he managed to turn a name he used to use to tease her whenever she did something slightly idiotic to something he so smoothly used to refer to her with affection laced in his tone would always remain a mystery to her.

Insult turned term of endearment, as she had once joked. And while she would never admit it to anyone, especially not to Kakashi, it always had her feeling special and loved.

He shook his head with a smile. “I think it’s adorable and it fits you quite well, my pebble.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Fuyumi raised her free hand in mock surrender and let out a small laugh as she took a step backward into her apartment. “How about you let me place the beautiful flowers you got me into a vase first, and then I’ll be back with you then. I wouldn’t want them to dry out.”

Kakashi nodded.

Fuyumi was quick to turn around and hurry back into her apartment and right into her kitchen, where she knew several vases were hidden in somewhere in her lower cupboard. She didn’t want to keep Kakashi waiting for too long, which was why in her hurry, she managed to almost knock over one of her vases while trying to grab a specific one.

“Shit.” Fuyumi cursed and breathed out heavily after she grabbed the vases before they could clank against one another loudly. Just her luck.

“Are you alright in there?” Kakashi called out from the doorstep of her apartment, worry lacing his tone.

Her forehead knocked against the cool marble counter for a moment as she took another breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “I’m fine!” She called out to him. “No need to worry!” Regardless of her saying that, she knew, he would worry anyway.

“You sure?” This time his voice came from much closer, and one look behind herself told Fuyumi that he was now standing in the doorway to her kitchen, his brows knitted into a furrow. With his arm, he leaned against the doorway and looked down at her with concern.

Fuyumi shot him a smile and held up both the bouquet of flowers and vase. “Just fine.” As she went to stand up, she almost toppled over, but quickly managed to regain her stability.

Kakashi, however, had been faster and now stood by her side, his hand placed on her arm as worry coursed through him. So clumsy, he thought. If he didn’t already have a mop of silver hair sitting atop his head, he would be growing strands of grey by now already.

“See, I’m fine.” Fuyumi grinned up at him before she wiggled her way out of his grasp.

“Sure you are.” He muttered underneath his breath, his open eye watching her carefully as she moved to fill up the vase with water.

“I always am.” Fuyumi sat as she adjusted the flowers in the vase. The flowers perfectly fit into the vase, so she noticed as she took a step backward. It was impossible for her not to marvel at the sight of them standing on her kitchen counter, highlighted by the rays of the sun shining through the window.

“I chose the flowers myself,” Kakashi confessed. “I wanted them to be more … special.” He hoped that didn’t ruin the bouquet for her.

Fuyumi turned to look at him with metaphorical hearts shining in her blue eyes. “I love them. Thank you.”

The silver-haired felt a bit taken aback, disbelief washing over his features. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. I’m not that superficial, Kakashi,” Fuyumi said with a scrunch of her nose. “You could have chosen the least matching flowers and I would still be happy. You put effort and thought into the bouquet, that matters to me.”

His heart fluttered at her words. “I’m glad you think so,” He extended his hand to her with a smile. “Shall we go, then?”

The smile on Fuyumi’s face left him breathless. “With pleasure,” With one hand she took the picnic basket and with the other his and squeezed it gently. “Lead the way.”

Even after having held Fuyumi’s hand countless times, Kakashi was sure that he would never get used to the shiver crawling down his spine as soon as their skin made contact with one another. He should expect it every time he intertwines their hands, but for some reason, her low body temperature caught him by surprise time and time again. With the sun shining down upon them, her frigid temperature was something he welcomed with a sigh.

“Using me as your personal freezer again, are you?” Fuyumi asked him with a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I blame you, it is rather hot today, even for me.”

Based on how the few other people roaming the streets wiped their forehead with a cotton cloth or the back of their hand, the heat was evidently affecting everyone in Konoha. For the village to get this warm was quite unusual and unexpected, seeing as barely anyone was prepared for such an increase in temperature.

Kakashi stole a glance at his girlfriend. “I just wanted to hold your hand, really. Your cold skin is just a benefit.”

Fuyumi let out a small giggle and squeezed his hand. “I also wanted your hand. The fact that I can help you cool down is a cool bonus.”

He couldn’t help but playfully roll his eyes at the pun she sneaked into her answer. “Is that so?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “With your mask, it must get hot sometimes.”

Almost shamefully, her eyes raked over his figure, taking in the way sweat was beginning to add a glow to his pale skin, defining the muscles he had gained after years of arduous training. The white shirt he decided to wear only did him and his physique favors, especially when combined with the pair of cotton shorts he wore. They only defined his equally strong legs more and gave them a more appealing look than they usually had.

The breath she sucked wasn’t missed by Kakashi, whose head snapped to fully look at her. “Wait, are you checking me out?”

“Maybe I am,” Fuyumi replied without an ounce of shame in her tone. “And what are you going to do about it, porcupine?”

“Ouch,” Teasingly, Kakashi placed his palm right above where his heart lay and looked at her with mock offense. “I thought you wouldn’t call me that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s just too great not to use on the occasion,” Fuyumi laughed. “Think about it positively, you are my favorite porcupine of them all.”

He tapped his chin with his finger. “I’ll think about it. If you stop protesting against me calling you ‘pebbles’.”

She should have seen it coming, really. “I’m only agreeing because it’s you asking, Kakashi.”

Kakashi threw his head back in laughter, a sight his girlfriend could only describe as captivating. His visible eyes squeezed shut as he let out a throaty laugh and even wrapped one of his arms around his stomach. As he leaned his head forward again, however, the string of his eye patch snapped all of a sudden and fell onto the ground, right in front of his feet. His laughter stopped at the sight and so did his smile, his hand letting go of Fuyumi’s. He stared at the eye patch unmoving at first, his open eye growing wider with shock while his hand began to tremble. Then he bent down and picked the cloth up, only to stare at it with disappointment flickering in his eye.

“Kakashi …” Fuyumi began, unsure of what to say. Beside herself, she placed down her picnic basket.

“I didn’t mean to …” When Kakashi spoke, he almost sounded like a child who was disappointed in himself. By the furrow of his brow, Fuyumi could tell the incoming wave of blame, followed by the telltale downward tug of his lips.

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. “Kakashi, it’s okay, it could have happened to anybody,” Gently, Fuyumi took the eye patch out of his hands into her own, removing her hand from his shoulder to pick the dirt off of the soft material. A bit of the pug’s face was covered in dirt as was the light fabric out of which the patch was made, but it was nothing that wasn’t fixable. “It can be fixed, I promise.”

He still appeared disappointed with himself. “But Chizue put so much effort into making it …” The guilt heaved up within him, especially since he could vividly remember how he had promised to take good care of the loving gift given to him.

“And she would do it again, she would be happy to, trust me,” Fuyumi glanced down at the eye patch again, her finger coming to touch the snapped string. “And she won’t mind fixing it, because then she knows that you’ve been wearing it. That will make her very happy to know,” She smiled at him again. “Or I can fix it.”

The worry that crossed his features told her everything she needed to know.

“I can sew, you know!” Fuyumi said with a faux scowl. She knew just how to wave her hand in an exaggerated motion that would cheer him up at least a little. “Just because I messed up a few stitches once, doesn’t mean I am a sewing disaster!”

Kakashi looked at her with a slightly raised brow and a hint of a smile forming on his face.

“I’ll give it to my mom, I swear,” Playfully and again, exaggerated, she rolled her eyes and smiled at him. With much caution, Fuyumi placed the eye patch into the little pocket sewn into her basket before she stood up again, facing him. “but I’m telling you, you are underestimating me and my skill.”

He let out a small laugh, mischief lingering in his gaze. “Sure I am.”

“You’ll see one of these days, Hatake,” She promised with a determined look. Then she bent down again to pick up the picnic basket. “but that day is not today, just so you know. Because first, we picnic.”

The white-haired held her hand out to her boyfriend, waiting for him to intertwine their hands again. Once he did with a small shiver, she tugged at it to lead him down the road and right to their designation.

“I’m joking, you know that I would wear the eye patch again if you repaired it, pebbles.” Kakashi leaned forward and tugged his mask downward within a second, allowing it to pool at his neck for a moment while he quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek before covering his face again. The cheeky grin he wore, however, could not be covered.

The skin he pressed a kiss upon took on a small flush instantly as Fuyumi held her breath in surprise. Then, she breathed out, “You’re too cheeky sometimes, did you know that?”

Mirth made the charcoal of his eye burn brighter. “No, I didn’t. But do tell me more about what you think of me.”

Seeing Kakashi smile was as though she were intoxicated by it. There was something about the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and his cheeks moved upward that always had Fuyumi staring for a moment too long. His charcoal eyes would take on a new glow, one that made him appear so lively and carefree, especially when his muscles and back relaxed into a slight slouch that had become so familiar to her.

Not that she would ever tell him those things she noticed about him, so, Fuyumi shook her head. “Not in a million years.”

“I’ll wait, then.”

In the distance, Fuyumi could clearly see the destination of their date. On one of the many vast and green landscapes hidden in Konoha stood a large and presumably also a very old tree, one that casts a huge shadow across the landscape. When she had first found the spot, so far away from the constantly packed middle of the village, she had made sure to remember it for sunny days. It had come as no surprise that she had shown the place to Kakashi already, too excited to keep it to herself. To return to it with Kakashi by her side, time and time again, felt almost customary by now.

“You can wait while we eat all the food I prepared.”

A loud rumble came from Kakashi’s stomach as though called upon. Almost instantly, he turned away from his girlfriend with reddening cheeks and murmured an apology. Fuyumi on the other hand found it to be rather adorable.

With an almost exaggerated sigh, Fuyumi set the picnic basket down onto the grass and made sure that the moment she let it go, it wouldn’t tip over with all the food still inside.

“Kakashi, could you help me spread out the blanket, please?” Had her picnic blanket not already been in her basket, Fuyumi might have forgotten it back at home. As she held it one end of it out to her boyfriend, that did not matter much, though.

He was quick to lend a helping hand.

When they worked together, it was much easier to spread out the white and red checkered blanket evenly onto the grass than it was when either of them did the work alone. Neither of them could complain about the slight breeze created as they set it down. A good majority of the blanket lay underneath the shade of the tree, the occasional leaf falling down on it, meanwhile, some parts of it were hit by the harsh rays of the sun.

Next, Fuyumi began taking out all of her animal-themed bowls one by one, telling Kakashi about what she put into each one as she did so. Within the ones decorated with snakes, strawberries could be found, while the one with dogs held watermelon within. Grapes had found their way into the bowl with cats on it earlier that morning and apple she had cut into the bowl with silhouettes of bunnies.

And finally, as though it were a holy grail, Fuyumi held out the last bowl from the basket to Kakashi with a wide grin on her face. When he tilted his head at her in evident confusion, she proudly told him about how she had cooked some miso soup with eggplant specifically for him. “I couldn’t not cook it, it’s your favorite, after all.”

Kakashi carefully took the container, with pugs akin to Pakkun decorating it, into his hands and noted how warm it still was. “Did you cook it today?”

“Not exactly. I prepared it yesterday and heated it up today,” Fuyumi explained. In a quiet voice, she added: “I did my best so I hope it tastes at least decent.”

At the kind gesture, Kakashi could feel his heart beat against his chest from all the excitement he was feeling. With his charcoal eye, he peered down at the bowl before he opened it, careful not to spill any of the soup in the process. What he noticed immediately was the familiar smell of his favorite food intoxicating his sense of smell and almost leaving him drooling.

What he hadn’t noticed was Fuyumi standing up with doubt flashing across her face. When he finally did, the miso soup now put aside, his brows furrowed as he watched her inspect her flower-decorated dress.

“Wearing a white dress wasn’t the best decision,” Fuyumi commented with a nervous laugh, her gaze fixated on the now slightly green-stained ruffle of her long dress. She twirled around once in the dress to show Kakashi the back of it. “Is the back of the dress also stained?”

“A little bit.” Kakashi told her earnestly.

Her smile dropped noticeably, which had Kakashi’s heart aching at the sight of it. Immediately, he stood up from his position kneeling on the checkered blanket and made his way over to his girlfriend. While his one arm went to wrap around her waist to pull her closer, his hand resting on the small of her back, his other hand went to rest on her cheek, right above the scar dragging up from her jaw to the middle of her cheek. With a gentle pull, he pulled her closer to him, which had Fuyumi squealing in surprise.

Kakashi did not have to bend down much to whisper in her ear since their height difference was so minuscule. A shiver ran down her spine as his breath fanned over her ear. “Dirty or not dirty, I think you look gorgeous in it regardless.”

Fuyumi’s cheeks took on a shade of red she had not sported today. Sheepishly, she went to hide her face in the masked crook of his neck, but not without pressing a small kiss to it first. “Stop it, you liar.”

He let out a chuckle and took a step back, forcing her face to reemerge from her hiding spot. Again, he rested his hand on her cheek to have her look at him. “I would never lie to you about that, pebbles,” With his mask still on, he pressed a kiss to her other cheek. “Trust me, I think you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear.”

The embarrassment coursing through her began washing away and left Fuyumi bolder than before. Without having to stand up on her tiptoes, she leaned upward and pressed a kiss to the lower end of the scar where it met his black face mask. Then she pressed another above the spot and another, moving upward with each kiss she pressed to his scar. The last kiss landed right below his eyebrow, where she lingered a bit longer than on the other spots.

When she finally leaned away from the silver-haired beauty, Fuyumi felt entranced by the pair of charcoal and crimson eyes staring at her with so much affection. A large grin stretched across her lips at the sight. “I love you.”

Underneath his mask, Kakashi’s lips, too, spread into a wide grin as he looked down at his girlfriend. His Sharingan eye remained open to capture the sight that was her standing in his arms. To see her standing there sometimes felt like a fever dream to him. But there she was, her curly white hair tied up into a high ponytail with a cerulean hair tie, some strands falling into her face to frame it and her blue eyes perfectly. He couldn’t look away from how her pink lips looked so soft, almost stretching all the way to the scar on her cheek.

At that moment, he knew for sure.

His other arm went to also wrap around her waist, both of his hands intertwining on the small of her back. Similar to before, he tugged her body towards his, resulting in Fuyumi’s chest gently colliding with his, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders to settle comfortably against him. Then, much to her surprise, he tightened his grip around her and began to lift her upward, her feet completely losing contact with the ground.

Fuyumi let out a squeal at the feeling and secured her grip on his shoulders. “What are you doing?” She laughed.

Kakashi moved his face closer to hers and smiled at her as though she were the only one in his world, “Holding the woman I love. Isn’t that obvious?”

Her eyes widened at hearing the words and her grip on him loosed, disbelief washing over her. “You- what?”

He let out a chuckle and leaned even closer to her, their noses almost touching. In a hushed whisper between them, he repeated his statement, “I love you.” His Sharingan eye spun wildly, taking in the changes of her expression to never forget them.

Seeing how she smiled at him with so much affection in her gaze, he knew, was worth to forever remain in his memory. “I love you too.”

Kakashi’s smile only grew wider as he teased, “You might have mentioned that already.”

Fuyumi gently slapped his shoulder before she rested her hand on it again, a defiant glint in her eyes. “And I will mention it another thousand times if I want to.”

“I’m counting on it.” Kami, he could hear her speak those three words again and again for the rest of their lives and never tire of hearing them. Each time she would speak the words would feel like the first time she did, he could already tell.

“So am I,” Fuyumi told him earnestly, her gaze flickering down to his mask as she spoke, “Can I … kiss you?”

Kakashi nodded, feeling as though the right words to say got lost on his tongue.

He could vividly remember when he was younger, Kakashi’s father always used to tell him about how home was not a place, but rather the person who held his heart in their hands. As a child, he used to scoff at the mere idea of it and vehemently denied it, finding it too metaphorical to be true. How could a person be one’s home? That didn’t make sense, he had thought. Though, now, as he held Fuyumi so closely in his arms, her lips pressed against his unmasked ones, he could only confirm what he had been told years ago. Because Kakashi now knew that after so many years of yearning for it, he finally found home.

#my oc #oc: fuyu #oc: fuyumi mori #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake x oc #kakashi hatake x female oc #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #hatake kakashi x oc #hatake kakashi x female oc #haatke kakashi x reader #naruto oc

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madara-fate · 2 years

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you say the sakura hate is not connected to missogyny but i disagree, someone in twitter literall said "she is hated bc she is what women r and hinata is loved bc she is the ultimate feminity" and ppl agreed with him, i know sakura doesn't represent all women but some people clearly see her as that and they openly admit their missogyny, some other anti said he would like her if she was a man and i wouldnt mind that comment if it was said by a normal fan but not a hardcore hater

So because someone said that on Twitter, it makes that claim true?

she is hated bc she is what women r and hinata is loved bc she is the ultimate femininity

So by their flawed logic, other female characters like Tsunade, Temari, Karui, Kushina, Karin, Kurotsuchi, Anko, Fuu, Tayuya, Tsume, Sarada, Chouchou, and Wasabi among others, wouldn't fall under this "ultimate femininity" banner either right? So where's the hatred for those female characters then? They share more personality traits with Sakura then they do with Hinata, so what gives? It is not difficult to poke holes in these misogyny claims.

Tsunade and Kushina are two of the most beloved female characters from the original manga, and Sarada is one of the most popular characters from the Next Generation, despite being Sakura's daughter and obviously sharing many personality traits with her. This just shows that the whole "femininity" thing is a non-factor.

How can the hatred be mainly due to misogyny when those same people who hate on Sakura, are huge fans of other female characters? Hating one female character is not indicative of misogyny.

How can the hatred be mainly due to misogyny when there are other female characters who are very similar to Sakura in terms of personality (as highlighted above), and they don't get the same hatred?

How can the hatred be mainly due to misogyny when there are other female characters who have done the same things that Sakura gets hated for, but those other females get a free pass?

Misogyny is a hatred for and prejudice against women, but that's not what this is. This is a hatred for and prejudice against Sakura. The hatred and vitriol is concentrated on her, not on women.

I know sakura doesn't represent all women but some people clearly see her as that and they openly admit their misogyny

I've never seen anyone even remotely insinuate that Sakura apparently represents all women, and how could that even be possible when there are countless other female characters in the series who are nothing like Sakura? Why would they even be there if Sakura was the sole representation of women? And lastly...

some other anti said he would like her if she was a man and i wouldnt mind that comment if it was said by a normal fan but not a hardcore hater

Why would you not mind that comment if it was made by a fan? What difference would that make? That was a stupid comment for that person to make, regardless of whether they're a fan or a hater.

#Sakura Haruno

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gettatranslations · 10 months

Text

Tomorrow is Our First Event！ Yumigeta Ako (23.08.02)

Good evening 🌝

I'm Yumigeta Ako 🛑

Thank you very much for your comments yesterdayー！

Naturally the standard ingredients of seaweed and tofu were popular！

I also reaーlly like seaweed！

I like it about as much as I like sea lettuce💓

This thought just popped into my head but I wonder if a clear broth soup with plum would be delicious…？

If anyone has tried it、please let me know if it was delicious〜🥹

Well then

Tomorrow is 17ki's first event in Osaka！！！

I'm so excitedー！！！！

Inoue ＆Yumigeta are excited about the variety of content we have prepared 👍

I hope can do it well for everyone who is looking forward to it〜！！

I'm so excited♡

I tried putting them in chronological order 🐤

Please look forward to seeing how 17ki have already grown ！

We'll do our best 💪🔥

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Well then it's time for today's 【Gettaa Life】✨

Today I had cream anmitsu for lunch during a photoshoot、

I've always said that I only like smooth anko！Even though I've never actually tried coarse anko〜

So today I was surprised by how delicious the coarse anko in the anmitsu was！

Now I can eat Japanese sweets that contain coarse anko〜！I'm so happy💓

I Getted 「Understanding of the greatness of coarse anko」！

It's terrible to say you dislike something without actually trying it…！

That's all！This has been 【Gettaa Life】！

⋆┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈⋆

T/N News and information has not been translated

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The other day I went home for the first time in a while and Anzu-chan came zooming to the door to meet me which made me so happy 😭

I got to snuggle Anzu-chan、and I went on a walk！Yesterday was a very healing day for me❤️

It's hot and there are many tough challenges to face、

But let's do our best this month too！

Well then I'll see you tomorrow！

This has been YumiGettaa Ako！Good night🐙🐙🐙

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electrasev5nwrites · 1 year

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Ninja Daily: Vapors 49

"It's weird not to have Hinata around," Karin groused. Aiko glanced at her cousin without pausing her push-ups. She made a noncommittal grunt in response. It was much less unusual for her—she spent a lot more time out of the village than Karin or Hinata did. Karin almost never left the village on missions except when posted with Hinata and Anko. Since Hinata was still training to be a tracker with her first team, she went on a fair few trips, but they were short.

This one was a bit longer, though, so Karin's restlessness made some sense… Even if her whining did demonstrate what Aiko thought was a strange dependency.

It wasn't like Karin and Hinata would probably be part of a permanent team. The only thing they were really learning from Anko anymore was her special serpentine taijutsu—they had already begun working with specific summons who were tailored to their specialties. With small, fast snakes, Hinata was a rather terrifying scout and infiltrator. Karin preferred to play with serpentine poison. It complimented her specialty in extracting, creating, treating, and reverse-engineering poisons. Although some of her summoned friends were tiny in hopes of using stealth, she generally preferred the shock and awe approach in an actual fight.

Aiko couldn't blame her. If you were going to throw angry, writhing snakes at people, they may as well be forty pound snakes. Why the hell not?

It did make sharing the house a little uncomfortable, to be honest. She had only managed to bring Pakkun over once, before he flipped his lip and started barking.

Apparently, dogs did not like snakes, in person or by scent. Training with the gigantic puppy Pakkun had introduced her to (a fluffy white dear called Mitsuo who she couldn't imagine actually getting in a fight. He was just so skittish and awkward—in that puppy stage where it looked like he was walking on stilts he wasn't quite used to yet after a sudden growth spurt) was complicated by the fact that he downright refused to come within a block of the place. Apparently, snakes weren't well trusted.

'Maybe Anko should move in here and I'll take her old place,' Aiko thought dryly. It wasn't the first time she'd had a similar thought. It totally sucked not to be able to spend time with her summons in the comfort of her own home. The training fields were okay, but… ugh. Just, ugh.

"Hey, are you listening?"

'No', she thought.

"Yes," Aiko said.

"You're a fucking liar," Karin muttered, collapsing indolently onto the pink towel she had stretched out on the grass. "I asked you to toss me the sun lotion."

"Why?" Aiko frowned. "If you're worried about getting burned, why don't go inside?" She quirked her head, and added, "or put clothes on." That was an itty bitty bikini right there. No wonder Karin was worried about tan lines. Nonetheless, she shifted her weight to one foot and kicked the bottle over. Then Aiko tossed her head to dislodge a bead of sweat threatening to roll down her forehead. Ew, so gross. As soon as she was done with conditioning, she would be going inside for a while, thank you very much. Her arms were starting to ache by that point. These types of workouts had been so frustrating lately. It was like no matter how much she worked, she just didn't get any stronger. Her arms had clearly defined musculature, but even Karin showed more raw power when she flexed. Karin hated working out!

Karin propped her torso up with her arms and gave a gusty sigh. "I don't know how I ever forget that you're so clueless," she muttered airily, tossing her hair back.

'Okay, those comments get really old. I guess that's enough push-ups.'

Aiko bent her knees to spring her legs up by her hands, re-situated her weight entirely on her feet, and grabbed her half-empty water bottle as she stood. Then she yanked the contents out in a thin spray that hit her cousin. Karin yelped like a Chihuahua, momentarily stunned by the cold. That delay cost her—Aiko had already given her a grin and shot back into the house.

"You're such a brat!" Karin hollered after her, holding her hands to her mouth. Aiko just snickered, pulling her tank top over her head on her way to the bathroom. It was probably really weird and wasteful, but she always showered and changed clothes between her conditioning workout and whatever else she did that day. It just killed her to wait around in dirty clothes if she didn't have to. She would be meeting with Kakashi in about an hour (hopefully, if he wasn't later than she'd calculated). Aiko wasn't entirely certain what he had planned.

It turned out to be a late day. An hour and a half came and went after she made it to the training grounds. Aiko didn't see hide nor hair of her wayward shishou until she finally gave up and sat down to open her lunch. It was almost one.

"This is not nine-thirty in the morning," she said flatly when she sensed his chakra signature. He just hmm'd and snatched a rice ball out of her tin.

"Really? I had no idea. You see, I was out by the gates, and I thought I saw a dog I knew. I was mistaken, but we had a lovely conversation anyway."

'I'm never sure if it's worse when his excuses are plausible.' She just rolled her eyes. "Yamato is right, you are a mooch, shishou."

"He said that about me?" Kakashi asked in a very false, hurt voice. When Aiko looked up, the rice ball was gone. Then he blinked, suddenly focused on her. It was a bit weird for a second, until… "Good lord, that outfit is an abomination. Did Naruto dress you this morning?"

She threw a cherry tomato at his head. He snatched it out of the air and popped it into his mouth. 'This isn't even that strange,' she pouted. A pink v-neck shirt and white shorts was a bit casual for her to actually work out in, but it was stupidly hot out.

"If you two are done flirting, I thought we were going to be doing some training?" Yamato drawled from somewhere behind her. Aiko made a sound that wasn't much more dignified than Karin's yip that morning and jumped, swiveling to glare at him. He grinned at her boyishly. "If not, I can come back later."

"We need to put a fucking bell on you, cat," she muttered grumpily. Stupid ANBU with their stupid sneaking. Stupid Yamato in particular with his uncharacteristic intelligence in finally figuring out that he could tease her back. Did he know something? Or was that just payback for the 'Yamato Nadeshiko' pun that he couldn't seem to shake? She hadn't meant for that to happen, to be honest. Stupid plebians should come up with their own jokes.

While she was sulking, she'd managed to miss Kakashi's reaction to being accused of flirting like a teenager. One eye narrowed. "You know, you've gotten a little fat," Kakashi mused with sugary concern, giving a slight cringe and obvious once-over to the younger man. "Tenzou, I really think it would be for the best if you ran a few dozen laps around the village to burn off that gut." He flopped down onto the ground and innocently blinked up at him. "We'll wait here for you."

Yamato sputtered, one hand jerking convulsively to his tummy at the same time that he attempted to correct Kakashi about his name, deny the accusation, and presumably whine about being set to run laps like a naughty genin.

Aiko wasn't entirely sure what all he said, to be honest. It was hard to focus when she was so busy trying not to snicker aloud.

'Whipped.' She mimicked the motion behind Kakashi's head, enjoying the way her senpai flushed.

"and you can join him," Kakashi added smoothly. "You'll get fat as a house if you keep eating like that."

Somewhat incredulously, she let her eyes slide over to her packed lunch. Two rice balls, some tomatoes, blanched sweet potatoes and peppers, and a box of grape juice were nestled around a piece of fruit—oh, no they aren't, she noted. Her shishou had already snagged her apple and was rubbing it casually against his pant leg with an amused mien that dared her to say anything.

'Maybe I should have brought another lunch so I could actually eat mine. Does the man just not know how to cook?'

It was hard to imagine him doing anything so domestic as putting together a packed lunch. …Though the mental image was adorable.

When she caught up to him on her second lap, Yamato turned to give her a superior expression. It was mostly ruined by the smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, elbowing him in the gut. "At least I'm his apprentice, I have to do what he says. Why are you letting him boss you around?"

It appeared that the thought had never occurred to him before.

Aiko felt a little guilty. Yamato was a nice guy, if a bit of a chump sometimes. It was hypocritical to hold him to standards she couldn't perform to. "To be fair, I wouldn't want to tell him no, either," she sighed. "What if he got disappointed in me for being lazy or something?" She'd never really disappointed him before, and she didn't intend to start now.

"I know what you mean," the man at her side grumbled. In the same serious tone, he continued, "and that's why I'm going to finish my laps first." Her jaw dropped, and she unconsciously kicked up her pace to match his increase in speed. "It'd be a bit embarrassing to match the efforts of a Chuunin," he taunted mildly, easily increasing the size of his strides. It was a bit of a dirty trick to play on someone so short.

She actually didn't mind. 'I didn't know Yamato ever played. He usually seems so serious. First time for everything, then?'

"You wish." She shot back, now full-on sprinting.

He did win. By a good four seconds, which was a helluva long time between shinobi. She was fast, but he was ANBU fast. She faux-glared up at him, working to catch her breath. He looked smug, and then glanced at Kakashi as if hoping for approval.

He just raised an eyebrow, spectacularly unimpressed. She wasn't entirely certain, but it sounded like a disparaging, "puppies," left his lips as he turned away.

Yamato looked mildly devastated.

"What did you want, a medal? Maybe for him to jump out of a cake in his underwear?" she whispered to her companion. Kakashi twitched in a way that implied he'd heard the jab, but was already walking away.

She took the chance to glance over her belongings and take a long pull from her water bottle. As expected, her lunch box hadn't really been touched since she'd left. Kakashi had probably just been teasing, then.

"If you two are done flirting, then," Kakashi mocked with wording like Yamato's earlier. The younger man blushed pink on the tips of his ears. Aiko just rolled her eyes. As if.

"I was thinking that it was probably time to do some team training exercises. It's probably for the best you never had to use your new technique the last time we were out on a mission," he directed at Aiko. "Because I don't think you understand just how much it would disrupt team dynamics."

Yamato eyed her curiously. "So, am I finally going to figure out why you two were growling at each other for two months?" he asked innocently.

"Nope." Aiko popped the 'p' sound and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Don't tease my poor little kohai, Aiko-chan," Kakashi scolded absentmindedly. "Now. Do you have one of your special toys with you?"

'That sounded dirty', Aiko thought. Judging by the way Yamato blanched, he'd had similar thoughts.

"No." She shrugged. "But I could whip one up, if you have the stuff?"

She half-expected it, so she didn't even blink when he unzipped his hip pouch and dug out a brush, ink, and a little pad of unlined paper.

'Someone planned ahead today.'

"Make two," he said shortly. Aiko cringed. 'There goes almost half my chakra,' she sighed. But she nodded obediently and flopped down onto her tummy to work, crossing her ankles in the air behind her. She wasn't entirely sure if the other two did anything or just stared silently the whole time, because she was in a world of her own while she drew. Instead of completely making one before she started the other, she inked both out and then sat up. Aiko tucked one safely under the toe of her sandals to protect it from the wind. Then she drew her knees up to her chest and pressed the other one to the uncovered skin close to her heart, closed her eyes, and worked on infusing it with her chakra. No matter how much practice she got at this part, it seemed to be easier if she was in physical contact with the seal. (The closer to a large gate, the better).

It stopped accepting chakra with a shudder against her consciousness, so she blinked her eyes open sleepily and held the paper out to her shishou. "There's one," she yawned. Kakashi frowned down at her.

"Are they really so tiring? I didn't think…" he trailed off. Aiko shrugged, and answered the unspoken question honestly.

"I have no idea, it might just be me instead of the actual seal. But yes, this part wears me out."

He seemed to frown. "Can you make another one right away?"

"Oh yeah," she reassured him. "I've made up to four in a day before."

'Of course, I did end up in the hospital,' she reminded herself.

It was probably best not to share that part. It took a moment to gather her thoughts enough to ignore the persistent buzzing of the super-close seal in her shishou's hand. She hurried through the second seal, before anyone got bored enough to actually take a nap. Yamato didn't seem particularly thrilled when she'd glanced his way.

Kakashi must have noted the stutter that indicated she was done, because he gently tugged the paper out of her hands and exchanged it for a kunai with her first tag already on it before she'd even opened her eyes. "Once you've cleared your head, show Yamato your little trick, would you?"

She blinked the tiredness out of her eyes and managed a nod. "Of course." For a moment she just twirled the short knife between her fingers, coming back to the real world enough to pick a target. She almost wanted to play with Yamato by throwing it close to him, but that would be phenomenally stupid. He would probably reflexively move to bat it away, which would probably end with her getting cut up or knocked halfway across the clearing.

But on the other hand, she did want to showboat a little bit after he'd showed her up earlier. So instead, she tossed the seal-laden kunai directly up into the air, caught it and safely tucked it into her leg holster, and then gracefully flipped in the air twice before landing in a crouch.

'I should practice more of that,' Aiko silently decided as she fell. 'Is there any point in being this in-shape if I never pretend to be a gymnast?'

She desperately fought not to giggle at the slack expression on Yamato's face. It became easier when her shishou cuffed the back of her head. "Idiot," he muttered fondly while she yelped and jerked away. He cleared his throat. "Depressing, isn't it?" he addressed to Yamato.

Aiko furrowed her brow. "What?"

They ignored her. "A bit, yeah," Yamato agreed, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes. 'Ugh, they suck sometimes. I bet even Karin would have been impressed by that. The Hiraishin is cool, even if I do have something better.' The thought gave her reason to be smug even when the boys were mocking her, but she didn't want to let them know she had something else up her sleeve. It might be useful later. So instead…

"Are you done pretending I'm not here yet?" she demanded crossly.

Kakashi blinked lazily at her, as if he didn't understand why she would be grumpy. "As I was saying. We're going to spar, and Aiko is only going to use Hiraishin and taijutsu. You two against me."

Yamato frowned. "How is that working on team dynamics?"

Both of his companions gave him dry looks. "Obviously, he already knows how to work around it," Aiko drawled. "Besides, what kind of help from me could he possibly need fighting you?" She glanced at him. "Maybe he'd be desperate enough for my help if he was fighting the Hokage or something, but I sort of doubt it." She paused contemplatively. "I guess I could be a decent meat-shield for a blow or two, but I'm not very big… contrary to someone's claims earlier." She shrugged. "I could protect you from a Kage from like, your hips down," Aiko drawled.

It was only a slight exaggeration. She hadn't grown in a little over a year. Doubtlessly, even stumpy little Naruto had surpassed her.

Her shishou looked mildly amused, despite her glare. "Moving on."

'Actually, I was going to have Yamato make all the stupid mistakes and learn from a distance.' He smiled slightly underneath his mask. Honestly, how would he have learned to work around Hiraishin? He'd barely been Jounin when he'd last worked with Minato sensei. He would have to have been in ANBU to keep up in that sort of fight.

It was sort of adorable that the two in front of him deified him to such ridiculous proportions, even after he bullied them and took their lunches. There was probably something severely wrong with both of them.

"I would recommend taijutsu for you as well, Yamato," he added idly as if he'd never trailed off. "It would be a shame if you skewered Aiko." The boy glanced nervously as their kunoichi, who was displaying her usual failure to worry about the possibility of bodily harm. It was probably the biggest personality trait that linked her to her brother, but he at least had a terrifying giant demon in his gut that would feed him chakra if he was in danger. Aiko was just somewhat lacking in common sense.

That, or she trusted entirely too much that he would keep her safe from anything. That possibility was a little unnerving, so he dismissed it.

Yamato pulled his hands slightly away from his side, as if itching to make hand signs. Aiko rolled her neck in that creepy, boneless way of hers (the kid was far too flexible, even for a ninja) and fiddled with the kunai in her hands. Kakashi tucked the kunai he'd attacked the other seal to away safely in his thigh pouch. Best not to have anything sharp out.

"Let's try Chuunin level taijutsu first." He blinked at his subordinates—and then leapt backwards, dodging Yamato's premature strike and the way Aiko immediately followed, tossing her knife to his left and reappearing with a fist readied.

'Well, that's already annoying,' he noted, making a water clone in the trees and switching places with it. When the other two rushed it, he dismissed the clone and let them knock into each other in their failed, uncoordinated attempts to rush him. He didn't bother to suppress his snicker. That did mean that a moment later both of them were barreling up the side of the tree.

When he had finally tired out both of his subordinates, (and they'd stopped humorously smacking into each other) Kakashi called a halt to the practice, eying their pale-faced kunoichi warily. She was controlling her breathing in a way that indicated she was carefully modulating it to get the most oxygen possible, but not panting. It was a bit odd. He'd seen her use the Hiraishin a good forty times, which seemed to indicate that she had been practicing with the technique on her own a fair bit. That would have to end.

"Aiko, I don't want you to practice with the Hiraishin alone. Understood?"

For a moment, it looked like she was going to protest, but she nodded in acquiesce. He let a hint of warning into his tone. "I'm serious. Don't think I haven't heard that you hospitalized yourself the first time you tried."

The girl flushed bright red.

'That wasn't exactly what she told me,' he thought mulishly, not for the first time. It was hard to deny that his apprentice was growing up rapidly— she was keeping her distance (Though he didn't miss the impromptu cuddles. Really), getting a girlfriend, making the ridiculous failure in judgment that somehow allowed her to think he wouldn't take basic investigation measures like cornering Tsunade in her office and demanding access to Aiko's confidential medical information…

The Hokage hadn't even argued, which he was both pleased and disappointed by. It was less fun to make himself a nuisance if no one blinked twice at it. In fact, she'd already had the papers with her.

(He'd always been prone to finding amusement at other people's expense, but taking on the tribute of emulating Obito had provided nearly endless, light-hearted ammunition that safely steered him away from his own adolescent cruelties. Obito had always been the better person).

Kami, Itachi disliked that man. For him, that was a very strong expression of emotion, even if he never managed to state it outside of his head.

A deep chuckle filled the air, and Kisame leaned against the wall. He eyed his partner. "You know, we are eventually going to have to do our real jobs," he pointed out.

Itachi didn't bother to answer. He knew perfectly well that Kisame was itching for a real fight by this point. He had been avoiding working on their assigned jinchuuriki, but they would eventually have to take care of that. They would also have to provide assistance to their comrades.

He found the idea incredibly distasteful, even beyond what he had already been forced to do for Akatsuki. At least missions re-funding the treasury were much like any mission he could have performed in Konoha. Extracting bijuu was an abominable prospect, especially since every one that Madara gained only put Konoha in more danger.

At least he'd apparently stopped caring about what Sasuke did or did not do in his free time. Itachi was quite happy to discard those plans.

"You know, I don't think Sasori will wait much longer," Kisame rumbled.

He was correct, of course. They had not been pushed to hurry their capture of the jinchuuriki because they did not yet have the number and strength of personnel to conclude the extractions necessary. It would have been a wasteful effort to capture them and then keep them under constant guard until Akatsuki numbered enough S-class criminals (who were, frankly speaking, in rather short supply). But now that they had a full ten…

Doubtless, they would be brought to task if they accomplished absolutely nothing. It would be easier to volunteer his assistance to Sasori's efforts than move against Konoha's jinchuuriki.

Besides, Itachi couldn't help but morbidly hope that the mere sight of him would one day throw Deidara into such a rage that he detonated Madara.

A man could dream.

Kiba fidgeted, thoroughly sick of being professional. It boggled the mind that his team had been chosen for such a diplomatically sensitive mission.

'I mean, I get why it has to be done, but I don't get why it has to be us,' he groused.

Kurenai-sensei aimed a gently admonishing look at him as if she could peer directly into his soul with those red eyes of hers. Maybe she could. He huffed and kicked at the dirt.

He could accept that it was great that there was this terrible grain famine in Rock country, but-

Kiba wrinkled his brow. It sounded bad when he put it that way, but it really did make sense.

Everyone seemed to forget that he wasn't actually stupid, but he had noticed the way everyone had been on edge in the last year or so. The older population had acted as war might break out at any minute if they breathed too loudly. The aggressors in that theoretical war always seemed to be Rock and Lightning, two of the few powerful shinobi nations that didn't have some sort of alliance with Konoha. It hadn't actually gotten that far, of course, and it was starting to look like it wouldn't. No nation would be stupid enough to start a war on their own.

Rock must have been very desperate to come to the Fire Country for relief with their famine. The countries were on notoriously bad terms, two decades after hostilities officially ended. Kiba lived in one of the most prosperous agricultural countries in the world- (which was by far the largest) he had never known the possible effects of a single bad year of crops firsthand.

But he had read all about it in the Academy. More than one war had been started over a few dozen miles of fertile land, even in the lower elevations more analogous to Konoha. A place like Rock, where the climate necessarily restricted the variety of foods they could produce, was much more susceptible to being extremely affected by minor climate or social changes.

He understood why it made sense for Konoha to defang Rock by providing aid at a cost. If they didn't, Rock would still have civilians starving in the streets. When diplomatic actions failed, they would have to do something to feed their populace, even if that meant starting an unwise war. Of course, by going to Fire Country for help, popular opinion should swing somewhat in Konoha's favor, which would make it harder for the Tsuchikage to justify making trouble.

'Still don't see why they'd want a tracker team,' he pouted.

The supply caravan moving through friendly Wind Country territory now was rather large- if he'd been the one staffing it, he would have provided them with much more back up. They had a team of chuunin at the back end, but that was it. Considering how important this mission supposedly was, it felt like a rip-off.

Okay, so maybe it made a little bit of sense to have a tracker team, if only because trackers were also sensors by nature. Between his hearing, Akamaru's nose, Shino's bugs, and Hinata's creepy eyes and creepy snakes, they would know if a chipmunk sneezed twenty miles away.

But still, he grumped. This mission totally sucked.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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cheltranslations · 10 months

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Haru-san Gettaa！@Nonaka Miki (23.08.01)

Chel here😈💜👾

Thank you very much

For coming to look at my blog！

Your likes and comments

Make me super happy！

It seems that the results of the Internet Sign Event lottery

Have been announced！

All of your comments letting me know how you got on

Made me happy ❤️

Thank you very much！

☁️🎀Yesterday's 2 choices🎀☁️

Soft peaches？

Firm peaches？

Firm peaches

Was the majority！

I expected soft peaches to be the majority

So I'm surprised！

I like both…。

Currently we have firm peaches at home

Which I'm looking forward to eating！

☁️🎀❛ ･ ❛🎀☁️

With 17ki members

Inoue Haruka-chan、Yumigeta Ako-chan ❤️

They were so super cute、

With Haru-san being all emotional

About having her choco mint drink、

And Gettaa eating her carbonara 🥺💕

I asked them lots of questions、

Which was fun 🌠

I feel like I know them both better now！

I'm excited for them to join our performances too ❤️

(T/N News and information has not been translated)

☁️🎀Today's 2 choices 🎀☁️

Which dango do you prefer

Anko？

Mitarashi？

For reading until the very end

Thank you very much ❤️

Please come by again tomorrow！

Today is the start of August！

Please continue to support us this month too 💕

See ya 🐾

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wind-becomes-lightning · 1 year

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Idk if this did sent yesterday since my internet crashed, so I'm sorry if I sent this to you twice D:, don't wanna spam you ahhh!

For your 600 follower event, I was wondering if I could request some Anko x my OC Fuyu fluff, with the prompt no. 24, if possible! Your writing takes my breath away time and time again, so I wanted to send in a request!

Congratulations on hitting such a great goal again and thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing time and time again 🤍!!

hello lovely! Here it goes! It is not super fluffy (mor like hurt and comfort I guess?) Thank you for letting me write the girls! <3 It's a little shorter but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thank you for always being such a kind commenter.

Anko x OC

mentions of child experiments (their teacher is orochimaru, you understand.)

prompt was: The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.

1857 words.

One of the many great things about Fuyumi was that Anko could always tell when she was sad, mostly because it was raining ice from the ceiling, even in the middle of summer, even if they were inside. Somehow her worries and fears would inspire her body to work on its own. Anko never quite understood if it was her wishing to sit in cold and sadness or if Fuyu’s ice was something that was comforting her in times of crises, either way, it was raining ice when she was in a bad mood, so Anko always knew.

This day for example, she came home from a short few hour mission with a group of younger children, Genin freshly graduated from the academy, and could smell the snow the moment she opened the door. Anko had recently started doing jobs with and for the academy and found herself good at it. After she had first proctored at the Chuunin exams some years ago she had found it pleasant to work with younger shinobi and was now considering becoming a sort of teacher. Possibly at least. It wasn’t decided.

“I’m home!” she yelled from the entrance and got no reply but cold air coming from the living room. In the morning Fuyumi had still seemed her usual cheery and upbeat self as she had gleefully burned an egg in the frying pan. Anko had made fun of her for the mistake, just some light teasing she thought. Surely Fuyu wasn’t upset about that?

She took her shoes off and then walked through the apartment they both shared in quick steps only to find Fuyu laying with her stomach on the couch, snow slowly drilling over her long locks. There were bags of comfort food on the couch table in front of her further making clear that she must feel terribly. Anko put her hands into her sides: “Is it winter already?”

Fuyu looked up and shook her head, which instantly let the tiny clouds that had been snowing disappear. She sat herself up and straightened out her clothes. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Oh, I would never make fun of you, come on,” Anko sat down beside her and pulled an arm around her girlfriend. Technically that was not true, because in the many years that they had both known and fought alongside each other Anko had made fun of Fuyumi many times, the other way around also. They had even fought about it occasionally, but never deep enough that what they had could be ripped apart.

Fuyu sighed and then smiled: “How was your mission?”

“I absolutely aced it as always.” Anko wrapped one strand of Fuyumi’s hair around her finger. “But that is not important right now. Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you?” She wiped some rest of the snow from the other woman’s shoulder.

“It’s confusing,” Fuyu pulled her hands together in her lap. “I don’t really know how to explain it…I’ve been thinking of him and.. I don’t know..”

Ah, yes, Anko had already suspected something like this might be the case. She sighed and pulled her girlfriend a little closer still. Just yesterday they had been ordered to the Hokage office with their former team mate Ume and were briefed by Lady Tsunade on the fact that their teacher Orochimaru had apparently finally been killed. That last boy he had taken, Uchiha Sasuke, had overwhelmed him or so the sources said. All three of them had not known how to react to that revelation.

Rationally, they should have all been elated to have him dead for all the things he had done with them, experimented on them, but his grip on all three of them had always been unusually tight and despite many terrible things he had done to them, they had trusted him still. In that first exam she was supervising, Anko had seen Orochimaru again and for months after she had the feeling snakes were strangling her in her dreams. Fuyu had woken her up several times from a nightmare.

Still, hearing that he had died was like a punch in the face. “I understand,” Anko said and meant it. Ume and her were maybe the only people who could understand Fuyumi’s feelings of confusion, maybe outside of Lady Tsunade and Lord Jirayia. So she took Fuyu’s hand and pressed it supportively.

“I am relieved in a way,” Fuyu murmured, staring down in front of her. “At least he can’t come after us anymore or misuse the cursed seal like he did with you…” Anko rubbed her neck. “.. but somehow I’m not really happy. I kind of am sorry for it all too. It makes no real sense.”

“No, it definitely does make sense. I feel very similar and I suspect Ume does too. We are… like abused children that lose a parent. He was a terrible person, but he was still our parent.” Anko knocked her foot a little against the table in front of her. “I think what is the most confusing is that it was not all bad.”

It was the truth. There had been times in which Orochimaru had been a good teacher. Anko had always suspected that he had only trained the three of them when it served his purpose of learning more about the curse mark or Fuyu’s special power, but even so he had individually spent time with each of them to get to know them. Anko specifically had gained a lot from him as a tutor: many of her special jutsu and especially her affinity with snakes were inherited from Orochimaru. He had definitely left more of a mark on her than just a cursed one.

Additionally he had taught the three girls that the most important thing in a shinobi was loyalty, loyalty towards the leader and the fighting comrades. Maybe that had also been just another tactic to get them to never run back to Konoha and tell someone who mattered about his shady experiments, or maybe he had been honest with himself for that point at least, but all of them really internalised that lesson. For a long time they had been sewn together at the hips.

“No, there was a lot of fun too,” Fuyu said now and leaned her head against Anko’s a little. “We could be quite chaotic together all of us.”

Anko laughed: “You and I can still be super chaotic. Remember when we tried to cook a meal when we invited Gai and Ume over for a housewarming?” Fuyumi laughed at the memory. IWhen they moved in they had decided to invite the other couple over for some nice adult time and almost burned down their new apartment in the process. Ume had looked at them with a frown and told them to never cook again. She was probably right at that.

“Yes, but we had each other because of him. He sort of introduced us to each other. He bonded us.” Fuyu sighed. “I think I am sort of thankful for that, even if… all the rest…”

“He didn’t introduce us at least,” Anko shrugged. “You and I were always together. I mean he has given us experiences that we now have to both work through and that means we have a great understanding of one another, but he didn’t give you to me. You were already mine when we became genin.”

Fuyumi giggled. “What are you saying I was already yours.”

To Anko there had never been anyone more important than Fuyu, never, not even when they were small, not even before the snake bite marked them both as damaged goods. From the moment they met each other Anko wanted to be in Fuyu’s orbit as if it was dragging her in. They were similar and different on just the right aspects and Anko had always loved that, probably even before she had understood what love meant.

“I don’t want to believe in destiny because I think it is bogus to live your life as if you have no choice of my own,” Anko said, “but I have to say that it is easy to believe that it was destiny that I met you. After all - the first time I saw you smile it sort of felt like the university realigned, like all the clouds opened up to shine on your face.”

The other woman opened her mouth and then closed it again and when Anko looked up she was clearly blushing deeply. “That's…. Very nice of you to say.” Fuyu seemed speechless.

“Ah, you are so cute,” Anko said and pressed a soft kiss to Fuyumi’s cheek. “I don’t just say it to be nice, it was really like that.”

Fuyu raised Anko’s hand and softly kissed the knuckles. “Well, I agree. Our meeting was cataclysmic. Even more important than the foundation of the great villages, will be remembered in history books.” She laughed.

“Now you make fun of me!” Anko protested.

“I would never make fun of you, my dear” Fuyu copied Anko’s tone of voice perfectly, winked cheekily and then continued. “All jokes aside, you are right. The most important thing Orochimaru has given us is each other and we really don’t need him for that. In fact, we never needed him for that. He just made our lives miserable.”

Anko nodded. “And now he will never do that again. We are free and we still have each other. We will always have each other.”

They looked at each other with a smile, their hands still pressed against one another. To Anko, it felt a little like a revelation and she hoped that Fuyu felt the same. It was necessary for them to move on to understand that their teacher had not been the only good influence in their lives. That their friendship, their love, had made them stronger than he could have ever made them with one of his stupid seals.

But most importantly, they needed to accept that it was a good thing that he was dead. They needed to allow themselves to be relieved fully, without feeling remorse about it. Then, and only then, would they be able to move on and be happy.

“I wish he would have faced some consequences at least,” Fuyumi said now as if she had perfectly followed Anko’s wandering thoughts. “I don’t think this village will ever give us the recognition we would wish for, but I would at least have liked to see him being punished. Dying is too easy.”

Anko nodded. “Yes. He got the easy way out there, but I’m sure Sasuke-kun really hurt him, so at least we can revel in that.” Fuyu laughed again.

They knocked heads again payfully and Anko said: “So no more winter in the living room from now on?”

“Promise,” Fuyu replied. “There is only going to be snow in real winter from now on.”

Their heads touched and the tips of their noses pushed against each other. Anko leaned forward for a kiss. The only way forward was together, and the idea of that made Anko very happy.

#fanfiction things #other people's ocs #nisi follower celebration #anko mitarashi

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historicfailure · 11 months

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So idk if I’m just screaming into the void here or not

But I managed to finish something for once, aka a chapter which I’ve sat over for a long time now, and would start posting the long-fic soonish/when I finish one more chapter (2 pages already written for that one too).

Might still take a while, but I just wanted to give you guys a little update of where I am and how I’m doing. And jsut to make sure, here a little excerpt:

~ X ~

You found the first note when you came back from lunch break.

~ X ~

Thanks for listening to anyone who is still here.

#historicfailure #I feel my username in this chillis tonight #since a few months now #so this is huge to me #freakypseudwriter

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ermakeys · 2 years

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The Only Thing That Keeps Me Here Is Gravity

Warnings: Child Abuse (Implied/Referenced and brief descriptions), Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Blood and Injury

CHILD ABUSE IS NEVER OKAY. There is a happy ending.

AO3

Translations:

Mando’a

Aran - Guard

Adiik - Child aged 3-13

Buir - Parent

Buire - Parents

Jag’buir - Father

Dal’buir - Mother

Vaar’ika - Runt

Strill - Highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore, capable of gliding and flight

Ad’ika - Little one, son, daughter, of any age - also used informally to adults much like *lads* or *guys*

Ni ceta - Sorry (lit. I kneel) groveling apology - rare

Ba’buir - Grandparent

Ba’vodu - Uncle/Aunt

Hut’uun - Coward (worst possible insult)

Nar’sheb - Contemptuous comment - like *shove it* but much stronger.

Sheb - Ass

Aruetii - Traitor, foreigner, outsider

Vor entye - Thank you (lit. *I accept a debt*)

Al’verde - Commander

Beroya - Bounty hunter

Huttese

Kuba, kayaba dee anko! - Come to me! (Approximate translation)

E chu ta. - An insult.

Tooska chai mani. - A curse involving the insulted person's mother and a Tusken Raider's chief.

Aran is a Mandalorian. They are a member of the Bro Squad along with Chad, Kit Fisto and Purse. They fight to protect those that can't protect themselves or need their aid.

But why? What made them the way they are?

This is the tale of Aran when they were Adiik, trapped in a home by gravity. This is the tale of when they learn to fly.

Aran yawned beneath their helmet. They followed quietly behind Chad and Purse as the three of them made their way to 79s with the promise from Kit to meet them there after his council meeting. The two clones had slipped out of their standard armor to escape the summer heat that prevailed even at night on Coruscant and Aran -not for the first time- felt like a bodyguard behind them in their full armor. The two were so absorbed in whatever they were discussing, Aran just had to keep an eye out for any troublemakers in the streets.

“Aran, bro, please back me up here,” Chad said with a laugh as he and Purse both turned to look at him and make their case. Aran hadn’t been listening and judging by the way Purse was starting to smirk, Purse at least knew.

“Whatever Purse said is wrong.”

“What!? You don’t even know what I said!” Purse exclaimed indignantly and raised his hands as he gestured wildly. “Chad could have just said all knives should be broken and I was defending your favorite thing!”

“If you’re for it, I’m opposed.”

Purse threw his hands up with a disgusted noise while Chad laughed loudly. Aran smiled beneath their helmet and tucked their thumbs into their belt. They loved riling Purse into a ranting frenzy. Purse continued to argue, but movement ahead caught Aran’s attention.

A little girl in a threadbare dress and dirt smeared across her face as she came skidding out of an alley up ahead. Their entire frame tensed under their armor when the girl scrambled to make the turn and ran down the street towards Aran and their friends. Her bare arms were covered in dark splotches.

Their eyes were fixed on the girl. Ice seeped through their veins as they coolly lengthened their strides to approach the girl. They were dimly aware of Purse and Chad calling them, but their focus sharpened when a man came rushing around the same corner. He rushed after the girl and grabbed her arm, causing her to cry out.

“Got you, you bi-AAH!” the man yelled and yelped when the girl twisted in his grasp to bite him. He didn’t release her and instead threw her against the nearby wall. “You little bitch! I’ll teach you to-!”

He had raised his hand to smack her. The girl had curled into as small a target as she could, waiting for the next blow. Except it didn’t come.

Aran tightened their grip on the startled man’s wrist who turned to look down at the shorter Mandalorian. He opened his mouth with a sneer and Aran moved. With a twist and a kick they had slammed the man into the ground. The stench of alcohol wafted up through the helmet’s filtration system and his jaw clenched as his lips curled into a disgusted and silent snarl.

“Did he hurt you?”

The girl flinched at Aran’s growled question as the man shrieked, slapping at Aran’s beskar to be released. She stared with wide eyes as the one who had chased her tried to free himself. Slowly, she nodded and Aran nodded stiffly. The ice in their veins reached their heart as they raised a fist, ignoring Chad’s and Purse’s calls.

“Better to close your eyes, adiik.”

—

“Adiik! Get back here!”

They didn’t listen. They only heard their heart thundering in their ears as they ran, ducking and weaving between the rocks. They knew that he wouldn’t be able to follow in his intoxicated state. The path leading away from the house and up the mountain was narrow and uneven. A small adiik like them could easily slip through and they knew this path. They’d used it before to run and hide from him.

“ADIIK!”

They hated how the word sounded when he said it. They’d heard other buire use the word with their adiik. It sounded warm and pleasant then. Filled with affection and the promise to care for them.

When he roared it like that all it promised them was violence.

Adiik jumped over a few rocks that jutted out and in the way and doubled their speed. It was a straight shot up for a while. Clearly visible from the path below and they hoped buir wouldn’t look up.

“I see you, Adiik! Get your sheb back here!”

Well, there went that hope.

They didn’t glance back when they heard a crash and loud swearing behind them. Probably stumbled and fell. Now was their chance to get a good distance between them. They darted up the path and soon the sound of buir’s swearing faded away. They kept running and climbing the mountain, higher and higher. Just because Adiik couldn’t hear buir anymore, didn’t mean he wasn’t following anymore.

There!

Adiik dove off of the path and slid down a gravel slope into the small yard of a hut. They’d seen it the last time they’d been able to run before buir could grab them. It didn’t look abandoned. It was too well maintained for that. Still, it would serve as a better hiding place than the otherwise bare mountains.

A faint curse made Adiik flinch and they dashed up the porch, looking for a place to hide. They didn’t want to try the door. Too risky. They looked up at the roof of the porch and smiled at the beams holding it up. That would do. Adults always forgot to look up. Adiik jumped the closest wooden pillar and clambered their way up. They lay down on a beam, trying to be as small as possible as the swearing came closer and louder.

“Adiik, I swear when I find you!”

They knew what lay on the end of that promise.

They flinched when they heard the clatter of stones and heard shuffling around. He was here. He’d found the hut. Adiik pulled their cowl further down over their face and clenched their eyes shut, hoping that he would turn around. They were hidden, they were hidden, they were hidden.

They peeked their eyes open when they heard the door of the hut open. Their eyes widened when a strill trotted out the door with a low growl and an older man followed it out. The man narrowed his eyes at whatever he saw in his yard and drawled, “What’s this? I don’t get many visitors up here and I don’t recall inviting you.”

Adiik’s fingers tightened in the wooden beam as they listened for their buir. They heard the crunch of gravel under heavy boots and the strill growled, nearly white muzzle raised to expose sharp canines. Adiik couldn’t help but admire the strill. They’d heard and read about the Mandalorian creature, but never seen one in the flesh. Judging by the way its muzzle was white with age compared to its gray-tan fur, it was already very old. Nobody ever wanted to challenge a strill without coming prepared, so it didn’t surprise Adiik that the crunching gravel stopped when the strill growled.

“I’m looking for my adiik. We had an argument and ran off,” their buir answered with a heavy sigh. Adiik’s lip curled in disgust. Buir always put it like that. He always made it look like Adiik was the disobedient one.

“No adiike here,” the older man declared, slipping his thumbs into his belt. “Vaar’ika here will keep a lookout and I’ll send any little ones we find down the mountain.”

Adiik knew their buir wouldn’t be satisfied without searching the hut and yard himself. But their buir also wouldn’t want to fight a strill. So, their buir agreed and sighed, “Don’t be worried about your strill giving my adiik a good scare. Maybe that will do some good.”

The older man just grunted and watched as their buir trudged back up to the path. Adiik watched as the strill eventually sat down and the older man reached down to pat their head, causing its wrinkly tail to smack against the wooden boards of the porch. Adiik froze when the older man squinted up at him and demanded, “You going to stay up there forever, adiik?”

Adiik tightened their grip on the beam. He’d known they were up here and lied to buir anyway? Why? They shouldn’t trust him.

The older man grunted in response and shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Vaar’ika won’t bite as long as you don’t startle her. She can’t hear or see from the left.”

Then the older man strolled right back into his hut. Adiik stared down at the strill as she yawned and flopped down on the porch, stretching her six legs out and away from her. They couldn’t trust them. Adults lied. They lied all the time.

Adiik stayed where they were. They didn’t know how much time passed, but they sniffed when they smelled a sharp scent coming from the hut. Eventually, the older man came out with two bowls and spoons, setting them on the small table on the porch. He plopped down in one of the rickety chairs and began to slurp at his soup.

Adiik’s mouth began to water and their stomach gurgled. When had they last eaten? This morning in a rushed quiet meal, so they wouldn’t wake buir? His dal’buir had raised a finger to her bruised lips to keep them quiet as they wolfed the porridge down.

They flinched when the older man glanced up with a raised brow and drawled, “Your soup is going cold, girl.”

“Not a girl,” Adiik hissed quietly and could see him fight back a smirk.

“Alright, boy then.”

“No!” Adiik snarled vehemently and pushed themself up a little to sit on the beam. “I’m not a girl or a boy! I’m ME.”

The older man stared up at them for a long moment. The only sound the breeze in a windchime. He nodded slowly and said, “I understand. Ad’ika, your soup is going cold.”

He turned back to his soup for a long and loud sip.

Adiik felt their anger from before simmering down and watched the older man for a while. Wary, they began to climb down the beam and dropped down to the porch. They flinched when Vaar’ika jolted awake and rolled onto her stomach, panting and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Adiik slowly relaxed when he saw her tail smack against the boards. They edged closer to the other side of the table and sniffed.

Maker, it smelled delicious.

Throwing caution in the wind, Adiik scrambled up the chair and yanked the bowl closer. They snatched up the spoon and began shoveling the soup into their mouth. Instantly, their eyes and nose began to water from the burn of the spices. They grinned into the creamy liquid and lifted the entire bowl up to slurp it directly from the bowl. A good burn!

“Don’t choke yourself, Ad’ika. Go slow,” the older man scolded them with an amused shake of their head. Adiik jumped at the sound of his voice and curled around their bowl protectively. “There’s more, if you want it.”

Adiik considered his offer. They pushed the bowl across the table and the man nodded with a quiet huff. “Be right back.”

The older man went back for more a second time by the time Adiik was starting to feel queasy from eating all that food. Stars, when was the last time they’d felt this full?

“It’s starting to get late, Ad’ika. You want to head home yet? Think it’s safe?”

Adiik considered his question as they looked at the rapidly sinking sun. They shook their head and muttered, “No, buir would still be awake when I get back.”

The older man hummed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“I’ll send Vaar’ika with you later then. She’ll get you home safely.”

Adiik glanced at the strill that had flopped back onto her side, enjoying the last rays of light. They slipped out of their seat and reached out to tap a paw. Vaar’ika just twitched an ear. Reassured, Adiik began to stroke her leg at first and when she rolled onto her back, her stomach.

A yawn made Adiik flinch and scramble back as the older man stretched in his seat. He stood up and Adiik tried to make themself even smaller. Instead of approaching them, the older man waved and sighed, “I’m not so young anymore. I’m going in to clean up and then going to bed. You’re welcome to come back whenever you want, Ad’ika.”

The older man frowned at Vaar’ika.

“Vaar’ika, aran,” he ordered and the strill sat up, eyes scanning their surroundings. Adiik watched as he gathered the bowls and spoons and stepped inside with a wave.

Nothing else happened. He just let them be. Adiik didn’t know how to feel, but he was full and had gotten away from one beating.

—

Adiik stared down at the hut from their vantage point with narrowed eyes. They followed the path and then climbed higher to observe the hut and the elder man. Hours later and they hadn’t seen or heard anything much to their growing frustration.

They huffed and slumped against the rock they were hiding behind.

The older man had invited them to come again. What good was that offer if he wouldn’t even show himself? Not that he knew necessarily that Adiik was there. Still, they’d wanted to be cautious and watch for a while before coming closer.

They’d thought they could trust adults before.

Better not to trust this older man too much. He’d fed them and sent Vaar’ika home with them before the strill had trotted back up the mountain. Adiik would wait and see for now.

“Are you watching the wind in the chimes?”

Adiik jumped at the voice behind them and whirled around, fist raised. A hand grabbed their wrist and their vision narrowed. They lunged forward and sank their teeth into what they expected to be skin, but was met with leather. They heard a swear somewhere above them and the hand holding their wrist went slack. Adiik spit out the leather in their mouth and scrambled back as quickly as they could.

Had buir followed? Would he-?

Adiik’s eyes widened in shock when they saw the older man crouched a few steps away in light leather armor. He rubbed at his gloved hand with a small grimace before he grumbled, “Osik, you’ve got a strong bite, Ad’ika.”

Their heart sank into their stomach. They’d tried to punch him. They’d bitten him. He was going to punish them. All the adults did when they-.

“Ni ceta,” the older man sighed and Adiik gaped at the apology coming from him. He… he’d apologized? “Shouldn’t have spooked you like that. Saw you watching and couldn’t help myself.”

Adiik didn’t know what to say. He just watched as the older man shook out his hand with a hiss and then looked up at them. They froze, trying to decide if they should run or stay. He frowned and Adiik began to tremble.

“Come on, let’s go down. I’ve got to skin these for the food I’m making,” the older man said and slowly pushed up to stand. Adiik flinched instinctively, but paused when they saw the three dotted pikas dangling from his belt. Their eyes widened when he picked up a sniper blaster rifle and began to climb down to his hut.

Adiik watched for a moment. He had mentioned food. It had been over a week since they’d been full like last time. They climbed down after him.

Vaar’ika made happy growling noises when the older man opened the door and he patted her head briefly before moving into his hut. Adiik froze when she turned her attention onto them and slowly reached out to rub their hands over their short fur when she leaned against her, tail wagging enthusiastically. Vaar’ika trotted back inside when she heard a whistle and Adiik stared at the open door.

They shook their head. Food was inside. Good food.

The inside was in the same old timer style as the outside. Almost everything was out of wood. Everything was neat and tidy, nothing cluttered the few surfaces of the small hut. A bed stood in one corner with a chest at the foot end. A table and a kitchen area. A door to what Adiik assumed was a bathroom.

The older man was standing in the kitchen area, taking care of the pikas he had shot with a flourish of his knife. Once he noticed Adiik had stepped inside, he waved them and ordered, “Cut these vegetables for me.”

Adiik cautiously pushed a chair closer to the counter and climbed up. They weren’t tall enough otherwise. They took a look at the vegetables on the counter and almost smiled. Good, they’d chopped these up before with their dal’buir. They were familiar.

“Here.”

They flinched when the older man offered them the hilt of one of his knives. A knife he had pulled from… somewhere. They accepted the knife and started chopping, glancing at what he was doing every once in a while. Dal’buir always bought their food already processed or whatever was leftover at her work. They didn’t cook much at home.

They felt their cheeks warm when the older man caught him staring one time. He hummed as he pushed the meat he’d cut up into a pan he’d prepared and declared, “Next time I’ll show you how to skin and cut them up yourself.”

Adiik perked up at that and returned to cutting the vegetables with a new fervor. The older man snorted in amusement and slowly reached out, giving Adiik enough time to move. “Stop. You’ll hurt your wrist if you keep cutting like that.”

The older man had taken off his gloves between entering the hut and now. His hands gently corrected Adiik’s grip before holding their hand for a few cuts. It felt strange, but once he had removed his hands, they did their best to imitate the cutting style he had shown them. He nodded, satisfied and turned back to the pan.

They worked in silence, the older man giving instructions every now and again. Finally, he set a lid over the bubbling pan and declared, “There. Now we just wait a while.”

He frowned down at Adiik and they stiffened at the attention they were receiving.

“Enough time to take care of that. Your buir give you that?”

Adiik blinked in confusion until the older man tapped his own eyebrow. They raised a hand and winced when they felt the sting of pain.

Oh. That.

“I’m fine,” Adiik grumbled as the older man crouched down to dig in one of the cupboards. That just earned him a scoff as he placed a medkit on the kitchen counter.

“Sure, you’re fine. Putting some bacta on it won’t hurt though,” he said, frowning as he looked in the kit. “Just humor an old man like me and put the knife down.”

Adiik glanced down at the knife they still held in their hand. Annoyance bubbled in them and they stabbed the point in the cutting board. It stood upright and they turned back to the older man as he snorted.

“Cute.”

He pulled out a small tube of a bacta salve and smeared some of it over Adiik’s cut through their eyebrow. It stung and they winced away from the older man’s touch. They waited for him to pull him back, but he just stood there, watching expectantly as his fingers were still stretched out towards him. Adiik inched back forwards and once their head touched the older man’s fingers, he continued rubbing the salve in as if nothing had happened.

“There. Now let’s eat,” the older man said and packed away the medkit. Adiik served the stew while he cut up a few slices of thick and dark bread. They ate out on the porch again and Adiik returned inside to help clean up. The two of them sat on the porch again and Adiik ran their hands over Vaar’ika’s pelt, exploring the leathery skin and sniffing at the strong musk coming off of her.

“The smell bother you?” the older man asked, eying Adiik with a raised brow and they shrugged.

“Smells better than buir after he’s been to the cantina.”

The older man made a disgusted sound and shook his head, muttering to himself as he balanced on the back two legs of his chair. Adiik glanced at the sun and stood up to go. The older man tilted his head and asked, “Going already?”

Adiik nodded with a small grimace. They didn’t really want to go. It had been so peaceful.

“Dal’buir is coming home early today. Jag’buir has the late shift tonight.”

The older man nodded and snapped his fingers, causing Vaar’ika to jump to her feet and trot over to where Adiik stood, tail wagging. Adiik ran a hand over Vaar’ika’s neck and felt some remaining tension bleed out of them.

“Thank you ba’buir.”

The older man scoffed, waving a hand at him.

“Who said I’m old? Call me Kaert or ba’vodu if you have to.”

A name. They finally knew his name. They smirked and called, “See you, ba’buir!”

“Rascal!”

—

“Adiik?”

Adiik froze where they were. They hovered in the doorframe to their room and tried to figure out where the call had come from in the dark. Finally, there was a shift and Adiik dropped their shoulders in relief when they recognized their dal’buir in the moonlight.

They quietly closed their door behind them and crawled onto their mattress where buir was rubbing at her eyes with a yawn. They crawled under the blanket and she pressed a kiss to their cheek. Everything was fine. Jag’buir must be asleep then.

“Where were you so late? I was worried,” their buir murmured. and Adiik winced. They snuggled closer, keeping their silence and their buir sighed. “You’ve been disappearing for hours every day after lessons and don’t come back until late. Just please tell me it isn’t trouble.”

Hours spent with Kaert and Vaar’ika. Kaert showing them how to do household chores and even walking with them in the mountains. Pointing out the few and scarce animals and plants that remained. Showing them advantageous terrain. Even letting them shoot a few dotted pikas after he’d shown Adiik how to handle the blaster rifle.

It wasn’t the same kind of trouble that jag’buir always got up to.

“Just playing with friends,” Adiik answered and looked up when no answer came. Their buir was fast asleep, exhaustion in every line of her face. On the one hand they were glad she wasn’t asking more questions. On the other they couldn’t help the sting of disappointment.

Things had been good recently. Maybe Adiik could surprise dal’buir and jag’buir with something they made in a few days. Adiik smiled as they snuggled deeper into their buir’s arms.

Yes, they would try that.

—

Adiik was running up the path again.

This time they had tears running down their cheeks and they were filled with burning anger. Their nails dug into their palms as they charged up the mountain. It was stupid to do in the dark, but in that moment Adiik just wanted to be gone, gone, GONE from that awful place.

It didn’t come as a surprise when they tripped.

Adiik fell with a shriek and lay in the gravel, jaw clenched. Their palms were stinging. Their knees and arms were probably going to bruise. Not to mention the throbbing pain from the burns across their face, front and arms.

Choking back a howl of pain, Adiik pushed themself up and back onto their feet. The first few steps were stumbling and then they were running up the mountain again. It took a few guesses, but then they found the slope that led to Kaert’s hut. They slid down the gravel slope and already Adiik heard Vaar’ika barking at the door. They leapt up the steps of the porch just as Kaert opened the door blaster pistol in one hand and Vaar’ika at his heels. Kaert opened his mouth to shout something when he recognized Adiik.

“Ad’ika? What-?”

Adiik pushed past him and Vaar’ika and scrambled to hide under Kaert’s bed. Before they could get very far, Adiik felt a hand grab their ankle and yank them out again. Adiik howled angrily and flailed wildly around them.

“You are bleeding and-! Did that hut’uun burn you!?”

Adiik’s world spun as they were dropped onto the soft bed and held there by Kaert. He scowled as Adiik struggled in Kaert’s grip and he barked, “Vaar’ika, medkit!”

Vaar’ika dashed to the kitchen and began snuffling presumably for the medkit. Adiik strained against Kaert’s grasp and snarled, “Let go! Just let me go!”

Kaert shook Adiik’s wrists and snapped, “If you didn’t want my help, you wouldn’t have come here! Now lie still and let me help you!”

Adiik fought back for a few more seconds before slumping back into the covers with a sob. Kaert took the medkit that Vaar’ika brought and as he began to take care of Adiik, they cried, “I just wanted to surprise them! Buir thought I wasted his money on expensive food, but I didn’t! I collected and hunted it myself! He didn’t believe me!”

They could see Kaert’s jaw clench as he pulled off Adiik’s cowl and shirt to treat the burns. Kaert hissed at the red marks and growled, “I’m guessing he threw the hot food at you.”

Adiik nodded, closing their eyes as the tears continued to fall.

“And these scrapes?”

“Tripped running up here.”

Adiik flinched when Kaert swore loudly in Mando’a. His fingers remained gentle as he smeared a layer of bacta on Adiik’s burns and scrapes.

“Why does your buir allow that hut’uun in your home? Why hasn’t anyone stopped this from happening?” Kaert demanded and Adiik pushed themself up with a snarl.

“Buir is part of the security force. And he’s friends with the mayor. Dal’buir never says anything. I’m called a problem child and a liar,” Adiik hissed and pushed Kaert’s hands away. Their voice rose in volume with each word. “Adults are liars! Nobody is ever going to stop buir from hurting us!”

The tears burned trails down their cheeks and they buried their face in their hands. Their shoulders shook with their sobs. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. They flinched when Kaert placed his hands on their shoulders and gave a gentle tug. Adiik resisted for a moment before slumping forward and Kaert wrapped his arms around them.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Adiik watched as Kaert cleared his yard of debris and larger rocks. Vaar’ika was settled on the porch next to them, head resting in their lap and tail thumping against the wood of the porch. They had stayed last night and were reluctant to return home, afraid that their buir would still be home. They dug their fingers into Vaar’ika’s wrinkly pelt.

No, better to hide for a while longer.

“Ad’ika, come here,” Kaert ordered suddenly when he was satisfied with his yard. Adiik jumped at the command and slowly pushed themself up. They stepped into the yard and stood opposite of Kaert as he placed his hands on his hips with a small frown.

It felt strange. Whenever other adults frowned like that at them, Adiik tried to get away, heart hammering in their chest. When Kaert frowned like that, they knew he was just thinking and considering his next words. It made them feel more at ease than any other adult.

“I am worried for your safety,” Kaert stated bluntly and Adiik felt their shoulders tense. The bacta had removed the worst of their injuries from last night, but their skin was still tender where the burns had been. They knew they were in constant danger in that house. “You learn good things at your school about language and peace, society and government, but those things belong in an ideal world. The galaxy is not a kind place and you know that better than anyone.”

Kaert gestured between the two of them.

“I want to teach you what you will need to know when you leave Mandalore.”

Adiik raised their brows and tilted their head.

“‘When I leave Mandalore’?”

Kaert just raised a brow in a deadpan expression. Adiik couldn’t say he was wrong. They had dreamt of the idea. They hadn’t seen much of Mandalore, but they did know that they didn’t want to stay. To get away and as far as they could.

“What will we start with?”

Adiik couldn’t help feeling a little flustered at the proud grin Kaert shot them at their response. Kaert got into a ready stance with open palms and drawled, “Huttese and self-defense. Try and keep up.”

Adiik didn’t get much of a chance to slide into their own ready stance, heart fluttering with excitement. Kaert lunged forward and Adiik flinched back, hands trying to bat away his open hands. They scrambled back to create some space and Kaert barked, “Kuba, kayaba dee anko!”

Kaert waved his hands for Adiik to come forward and they bared their teeth in a quiet snarl. He wanted them to stop running. Adiik surged forward, exhilarated. Finally, a lesson that could help prepare them for the future.

—

“I’m home!” Adiik called, rushing through the front door. They dashed into their room and flung their bag into the corner before stripping and wearing something lighter. Something they wouldn’t mind getting dirty when Kaert threw them to the dusty ground over and over again. He had promised them to show them how to trip up even a heavy adult today and Adiik had been on the receiving end often enough that they relished the idea of getting their chance to return the favor.

They turned to dash out when they saw their buir standing in the doorway. She frowned at the sight of him and Adiik froze. She had a new split lip that hadn’t been there this morning. Something must have happened in the time Adiik had been at school and before jag’buir had gone to work.

“Where are you going?” she asked in a quiet voice. Adiik shrank back. This wasn’t the soft, fond notes that she would use with them.

“Out to play,” Adiik answered breathlessly. Their heart skipped a beat when their buir glanced towards their school bag.

“What about your homework? Your buir will be unhappy if he hears you aren’t doing your work.”

Adiik shook their head slowly.

“I finished my assignments.”

“Show me.”

Adiik flinched at the demand and hurried to pick up their bag. They pulled out the datapad and held it to their buir who scrolled through the information with a frown.

They had finished their assignments. They’d asked their teacher if they could stay at their desk a little longer to finish the work there. They’d been delighted and even answered a few questions that Adiik had had. Kaert always said to ask questions when they didn’t understand something. Always said it was important to get their work done first before coming up the mountain.

“Where are you going to play?” their buir asked,handing back the datapad reluctantly. “You’re home so little nowadays. What are you doing out there? Your buir has noticed.”

That brought on a cold sweat of fear. It was never good if jag’buir noticed something enough to comment on it. Adiik swallowed and with a smile said, “Just exploring the mountains with a few kids from class.”

Their buir fiddled with the hems of her sleeves and Adiik tried to ignore the twist in their gut when they saw the edge of bruises peeking out. Her shoulders rose and fell with the force of her sigh and their buir said, “I wish you would spend a little more time at home. If it’s just me, he…”

She shook her head and smiled at Adiik, reaching out to place a palm against their cheek.

“We should both try to help your buir. He has a very stressful job and needs us when he gets home.”

Adiik flinched away from their buir’s hand with narrowed eyes. They took a step back and in an accusing tone said, “Just because you’re willing to be his punching bag, doesn’t mean that I have to be too.”

SMACK!

Adiik blinked in shock at the stinging sensation on their cheek. They slowly turned wide eyes back to their buir whose mouth opened and closed, equally startled by what she had done.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I would never hurt you on purpose, Adiik. I…”

They ran.

Adiik ignored her cry that turned into a wail as they dashed around them and out of the house.

Adults were liars.

Except maybe Kaert.

—

Adiik ducked under one of Kaert’s swings, eyes focused on the movements of the older man. They jumped to avoid the sweep of his leg and dashed around to Kaert's back. He cackled at Adiik’s quick moves and in Huttese exclaimed, “Good, good! Use your speed, Ad’ika!”

Kaert whirled around and tried to grab at them, but Adiik danced out of their grasp with a smug grin. He scowled and whistled, causing Adiik to jump back further warily. What did he have planned now? What was-?

Adiik yelped when something slammed into their back and they fell face first into the dirt. Kaert laughed above them and Adiik spluttered, spitting dust and dirt out of their face. Vaar’ika panted happily, snuffling Adiik’s ear and they shoved the snout away with a roll of their eyes.

“That was cheap.”

“Oh and everyone will agree to a duel and play fair.”

“Nar’sheb.”

“In Huttese.”

“E chu ta.”

Kaert cackled, crouching down to poke at Adiik’s head while Vaar’ika was still holding them down.

“We’ll get as much Huttese in your head as we can for the next month before we switch to a new language. Bocce is useful if you intend to travel between stars.”

Adiik tried to push up, but Vaar’ika just settled more of her weight on them. They dropped back down with a huff and grumbled, “Great. Can I get up now?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Tooska chai mani.”

“Do I want to know why you have Vaar’ika sitting on a child in your yard and swearing at you, Kaert?”

Adiik flinched at the modulated voice and scrambled to their feet when Vaar’ika jumped off with a happy bark. Kaert stood up with a wicked grin and Adiik hurried to stand behind him, watching as Vaar’ika trotted towards an armored man, walking towards them. He hadn’t come from town or the path Adiik used. He came from the path Kaert and Adiik used to climb up higher in the mountains for target practice and trapping.

He approached with a calm swagger, greeting the excited strill with a pat to the head. Adiik couldn’t help shuffling further behind Kaert when the silver and blue beskar gleamed in the sun. They’d seen pictures of the Mandalorians in full armor. The True Mandalorians and the Death Watch. Their teacher had talked about them a little in their lessons.

The Mandalorian warrior and Kaert clasped their forearms in greeting and Kaert clapped the other on the shoulder with a grin.

“You swore at me often enough when I helped train you,” Kaert drawled with a snort. The warrior shook his head as a quiet chuckle drifted from the helmet’s vocoder. “I appreciate you coming out here for me. Couldn’t have been easy.”

The warrior shrugged and Adiik flinched when his visor tilted down to look at them.

“I don’t enjoy coming here, but I just had to see this ad’ika you were telling me about.”

Kaert talked about them? Wariness and delight warred inside them and Adiik jumped when Kaert pushed them in front of him. They leaned back until Kaert held onto their shoulders and he said, “Ad’ika, this is my friend Jango. Jango, this is Ad’ika.”

Adiik’s eyes widened when Jango removed his helmet and tucked it under one arm before offering Adiik his gloved hand.

“A pleasure,” Jango answered with a raised brow. In a way it made Adiik want to smile. Kaert made the same expression when he was amused but didn’t want to show it. They carefully extended their hand and relaxed a little when Jango kept his grip light enough for Adiik to easily slip out of. Still, they just silently nodded in return and let out the breath they’d been holding when Jango focused on Kaert again. “I brought what you asked for. Seeing your little warrior here now, it makes more sense why you’d ask for it.”

Jango reached into the bag he’d slung over one shoulder and Adiik watched as he handed a belt with two daggers over to Kaert. The older man hummed, pleased as he tested the leather in his hands and then pulled out one of the blades. It shimmered and Jango held up a vambrace. Before Adiik could wonder why, Kaert tapped the dagger blade against the silver vambrace and their eyes widened as a beautiful ring echoed from the blade and vambrace.

“A good beskar blade,” Kaert declared with a satisfied nod. He slipped the dagger back into its scabbard and then pulled out the second blade. This one hummed as it vibrated faintly and Adiik tilted their head, curious. “And a good vibroblade. These will do nicely.”

Kaert glanced down at Adiik with a small smirk. He sheathed the vibroblade back into its scabbard and asked, “Do you want these, Adiik?”

Adiik gaped up at Kaert with wide eyes.

“I can?”

Kaert nodded and Adiik started to reach for the belt and blades, until Kaert pulled them back and up. He lifted his chin towards Jango and drawled, “You can have them, if you can land a solid blow on Jango here.”

Adiik flinched back with a glance towards Jango who had paused midway through ruffling through his helmet-hair. He shook his head and sighed, “Why do you have to drag me into this? I have better things to do than train your student.”

“You didn’t have anything better to do than be a courier for my blades when I called you.”

Jango raised an amused brow and tucked a thumb into his belt, shifting into a casual stance.

“I have a bounty to hunt by next month, Kaert.”

Kaert scoffed, shaking his head.

“More than enough time for Ad’ika to land a blow on you.”

Adiik shrunk back when Jango raised his brows and then lowered his gaze to look them up and down.

“Oh really? That confident in your ad’ika?”

No, no, no, Kaert had no reason to be-.

“Of course.”

Adiik wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

—

Adiik quickly understood why Kaert had asked Jango to stay for a few training sessions. Kaert was tall and nimble and used those to his advantage. Jango was shorter and just as quick, but Adiik could see the force he could use if he chose to. The moment Jango managed to grab them, the bout was over no matter how much Adiik twisted and kicked.

They couldn’t use the same tactics that they used with Kaert.

Adiik clenched their teeth as they ducked under Jango’s arm and scrambled to get away when his other hand darted out to grab him. They yelped when a leg suddenly lashed out and swept their feet out from under them. Adiik hit the dusty ground with an ‘oof’ and rolled to their feet, panting.

Jango smirked, arms up as he followed to where Adiik had rolled. Annoyance bubbled in them. It had already been a week and so far they’d only managed to dodge for longer before Jango would grab them. That smug confidence was starting to rub Adiik the wrong way as well.

They snarled as they lunged forward to grab at Jango’s armorless torso. He twisted aside and Adiik tried to follow. Until their foot slipped in the dust, setting them off balance. Jango spotted the mistake instantly while Adiik swore and before they knew it, they were dangling by the back of their shirt from Jango’s grip.

Jango dropped Adiik back to the ground and Kaert clicked his tongue from where he stood on the porch with Vaar’ika.

“You got impatient, Ad’ika,” Kaert drawled and Adiik kicked at the ground with a sullen scowl. “Good time, but extending the fight does you no favors. You need to be able to end the fight.”

“Yes, ba’buir,” Adiik grumbled, using the nickname he knew Kaert disliked the most. They were proven right when Kaert narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Go wash up. Dinner is almost ready.”

Kaert disappeared inside and Jango clapped a hand against Adiik’s shoulder before walking to the side of the house. Adiik followed, still pouting as Jango used the faucet on the side to wash his hands and face. Shaking his hands off, he stepped aside to make room for Adiik and said, “You’ve got good instincts, Ad’ika. You just need time to grow into them.”

Adiik grumbled, ducking their head under the water to get rid of the dust in their hair. They came up spluttering and brushed their wet hair back. They wiped the water in their face away to see Jango counting credits in his hand.

“I don’t like draining Kaert’s supplies, even if he insists that it’s fine,” Jango explained before holding out a few credits to Adiik. “I don’t want to show my face in town, but you could get supplies for us.”

Adiik’s confusion cleared at his words and he pocketed the credits with a nod.

“I’ll get what Kaert is missing.”

Jango ruffled through Adiik’s hair with a grin.

“Good. Now, let’s go eat. Training is hungry work.”

—

The town market was bustling with activity. Adiik ducked through the side passages as they scanned for the supplies that Jango had asked them to fetch. They felt some delight that they’d get the chance to do something for Kaert and Jango.

Kaert gave Adiik a place to escape. A place to lick and treat their wounds. A shoulder to cry on and an open ear for complaining and screaming. They were learning more from Kaert than their parents had ever showed them.

What Jango got out of tossing an eight year old into the dirt was beyond Adiik.

No, they could make a guess. They’d heard them discussing old battles and people with fond smiles. Both were somber men, but the more time they spent together, the more relaxed they felt. Adiik hadn’t even realized that Kaert always carried a certain tension around with him until they’d seen him relax now around jango.

A loud cry from the market made Adiik flinch. They hid behind a stall, watching the vendors and customers with wary eyes. They used to love exploring the market on the way home from school until they’d been accused of stealing.

Their buir had been furious.

Adiik shuddered at the memory of what had happened at home that evening. No, better to avoid being seen. Especially if their buir might be patrolling today.

They hurried to the stall with the supplies Jango had asked for. The vendor raised her brows in surprise at the sight of them and asked, “Well, well, well, haven’t seen you around in quite some time? What trouble are you getting into now?”

Adiik held out the datapad with the supplies listed out to the vendor with a small frown and argued, “I’m not getting into trouble. I’m shopping.”

The vendor frowned as she skimmed the list and lowered it with some concern.

“And what credits will you be paying with? Some of these items are a bit pricier and I don’t think your pocket money will be enough.”

Adiik pulled the neck-pouch they’d slipped the credits into out from under their shirt and passed them to the vendor. They felt their hands become clammy as the vendor peeked inside in surprise. She could just take them. Claim they were hers and call them a liar if they tried to push it. Their buir would be called and-.

“Allright, I’ll get everything together. Wait a minute.”

Adiik’s shoulders slumped in relief and they nodded as the vendor turned away to gather everything. They shuffled and pulled their cowl lower over their face. They were so close. Adiik smiled when the vendor handed a bag with everything inside to them and began to count out the credits necessary.

“There, I’ll put your remaining credits back in. Maker, knows where you got this many to begin with,” the vendor said, holding out the neck-pouch. Adiik grinned and reached for the pouch only to freeze when they heard heavy steps behind them.

“Adiik?”

They turned slowly to see their buir and another security force member beside him. Their buir’s eyes flickered back and forth between the vendor and Adiik in visible confusion before they frowned.

“Adiik, what is this?” their buir demanded in a quiet tone. Adiik swallowed and opened and closed their mouth a few times, trying to form words. Fear filled their voice and only a few garbled sounds came out. Their buir stepped closer and grabbed the bag Adiik was holding to look inside. His frown deepened at the sight and was slowly becoming angry. “Answer me. What is this?”

“Sho-shopping,” Adiik managed to stammer out and flinched when their buir yanked the bag away from them entirely. Their buir took the pouch from the vendor and peered inside as well, eyebrows shooting up in shock before coming down in a thunderous expression.

“Where in fark did you get this many credits!?” he exclaimed angrily and Adiik cringed in the face of his fury. They wanted to run, but the market was busy, people were gathering to watch, creating a wall of people that would make it harder. Not to mention their buir would get even angrier.

Their buir shook the pouch with credits and the bag at Adiik and snarled, “Did you steal these? Again?”

Adiik’s eyes widened in horror and they shook their head violently.

“No! I was asked to go shopping and-!”

Their buir grabbed Adiik’s arm in a painfully tight grip, causing them to gasp. He yanked Adiik closer and hissed, “Go home and wait in your room. I’ll be back once I’ve dealt with your mess here.”

“But I didn’t-!”

Adiik cried out when their buir tightened his grip further on their arm.

“Go. Home.”

He released his grip when Adiik nodded frantically. They stumbled and cradling their arm, dashed away, pushing through the whispering crowd. Their heart thundered in their chest, throat constricting as they tried to drag in enough air into their lungs. The path home blurred until they pushed the door open and stood in the house.

It was eerily silent.

For now.

Adiik knew what was coming.

They rushed into the room and pushed everything to the corner along with the mattress. Their hands shook as they reached up for the button of the shutters. They stared out the window towards the mountains where Jango and Kaert would be waiting for them later and they wouldn’t come.

The mountains reached up into the sky. Like fingers grasping for the clouds and the space beyond. As if they desperately wanted to escape the world at their feet just like Adiik. To escape into space so they wouldn’t have to face the world.

Only for gravity to yank them right back down.

Adiik felt the tears roll down their cheeks as they hiccuped for breath.

They pushed the button for the shutters, hiding the world outside.

Gravity had come for them.

—

Pain blazed through their veins like fire.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

They couldn’t remember when their buir had finally stepped out of their room. The house and the outside world seemed to be silent from what they could tell from the blood rushing through their ears.

Night, then?

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

Kaert would be wearing that small frown of his when they didn’t visit. Vaar’ika would be whining on the porch, head on her clawed paws.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, it hurt.

Jango! He would be wondering where his credits and supplies would be. They tried to lift an arm to push themself up, but the burning pain became an inferno. They flopped back down, pressing a hot, wet cheek to the cool floor beneath them.

They could try and explain.

Maybe he would understand.

Kaert trusted him. Maybe Adiik could trust him too.

For now, they allowed the darkness to swallow them up again.

—

Adiik gave themself two days before they snuck out of the house.

They took their time climbing the dark path up the mountain. Their buir had forbidden them from leaving the house and night was the only time when they could leave. He would be too drunk to notice then.

They had to take their time as well. Their entire body still ached and one slip sent lances of blinding hot pain through their body. A climb that normally would have taken them twenty minutes felt like an eternity now.

The lights were on. Adiik felt a surge of relief even though they didn’t quite understand why. Of course Kaert and his hut would still be there. They blinked down the wave of tears that threatened to spill over and glanced down the gravel slope that usually they wouldn’t think about twice sliding or jumping down.

Now it just looked like agony.

“Vaar’ika,” Adiik called in their hoarse voice. Even two days later and their voice still cracked from the crying and screaming. The strill had the best chance of hearing Adiik. They swallowed thickly, silently begging for Vaar’ika to hear and force herself out. “Vaar’ika, please. Vaar’ika.”

The door slammed open by a cursing Kaert as Vaar’ika barreled her way out once he had started opening the door. Adiik choked on a relieved sound as Vaar’ika ran across the yard and up the gravel slope. Her tail wagged with excitement until she got closer. Adiik knelt, wrapping their arms around her neck carefully and the strill whined, licking at their face.

“Ad’ika?”

Adiik lifted their wet face from where they had buried it in Vaar’ika’s pelt to see Kaert standing in the yard while Jango stood in the bright door frame. They sniffled and called, “I can’t slide down the slope.”

There was a long beat of silence and then Kaert rushed up the slope, swearing in every language he knew. His hands hovered over Adiik before he carefully slipped his hands under them and lifted them up into his arms. Adiik tried their best, but couldn’t stop the whimper of pain.

“Jango! Get the medkit out under my sink!” Kaert yelled and slid down the gravel slope, Vaar’ika running after him with a worried whine. Adiik allowed themself to relax in Kaert’s arms and blinked drowsily as they were rushed into Kaert’s home. The climb had been exhausting. They were barely aware of Kaert stripping them down to their underthings or Jango’s and Kaert’s swearing at what they found underneath.

“Can’t stay long. Buir can’t know,” Adiik mumbled, leaning against something soft and warm. Something cool was being smeared into their abused skin and muscles. It felt nice. It eased the ache they felt. “I wanted to come.”

“Their buir did this!?”

Adiik flinched at the fury they could hear in Jango’s voice. They forced their heavy eyelids to open and saw Jango clenching his fists as they stalked up and down the room, rage radiating off of him in waves. Kaert’s lips were pressed into a thin line and he was trying to keep his calm as he applied bacta to Adiik’s skin.

“I’m sorry, Jango,” Adiik whispered and Jango froze at their miserable tone. He hurried closer and took Adiik’s hand with a confused frown. “I tried to get the supplies. Buir thought I’d stolen the credits though. He took everything. I’m-.”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” Jango snarled and Adiik trembled, trying to hide in Kaert’s bed. “This is not your fault. That hut’uun-!”

Jango cut himself off and he drew in a deep breath through his nose. He brushed a hand through Adiik’s hair and growled, “None of this is your fault. It’s just credits. I can get that back easily with the next bounty.”

The room was silent except for Vaar’ika’s whining.

“Then you’re not angry?”

Adiik hated how teary and fearful their voice sounded. Jango shook his head, expression softening.

“Never, Ad’ika.”

—

Adiik chewed on some dried jerky as they studied the datapad Kaert had given them. Vaar’ika had pressed their boney frame against their side where they were sitting on the steps of the porch, huffing in their sleep. The sun was high and Adiik enjoyed the warmth it shared.

Even if they would have to retreat inside soon since the summer sun wasn’t merciful.

“How is it coming along?”

Adiik looked up to see Kaert coming down the gravel slope with a pair of dotted psikas on his belt and his rifle in one hand. Their leather armor was painted with the white and beige dust of Mandalore. They smiled at the sight of them. Vaar’ika raised her head before dropping it with a quiet huff again and Kaert glared at her.

“I’m your master, not this stray we picked up,” he complained in Ryl, standing in front of them with a shake of his head. “Fifty years I’ve known her and she abandons me for you.”

Adiik laughed and rubbed a hand over Vaar’ika’s head.

“I’m not the one that named her ‘runt’,” Adiik countered in careful Ryl. Nearly two years since they’d met Kaert and they were practicing their third language together. They thought they were getting the hang of Ryl. Sending Jango messages in Bocce and Huttese helped them stay in practice too. Their laughter echoed in the hollow where the hut was as Kaert threw up a hand in exasperation.

“I wasn’t the one to name her,” Kaert declared, pointing at the snoozing strill. “This ancient runt was already called that when I inherited her.”

Adiik glanced down at Vaar’ika with a small frown.

“How old is she?”

Kaert had started to walk up the steps to take care of the piskas and paused at their question. He bowed his head and sighed, “I don’t know. Just that I’m her fourth and probably last master.”

Kaert disappeared inside the hut and Adiik turned back to their datapad after stroking Vaar’ika’s head a little longer. They still needed to answer Jango’s latest message in Bocce while looking up as few words as possible.

Jango had left soon after the last beating. He needed to hunt down the bounty and had said being this close to their buir made them feel more murderous than was helpful. Especially since Adiik insisted Jango not slit his throat.

It was enough that Adiik had Kaert and Jango in their life. They made it all bearable.

Jango didn’t come to visit again and Adiik had to admit they missed him. He had also gifted the belt and two blades to Adiik on the day he left. Knelt in the dirt and tied the belt around their skinny waist. He had placed a fist over Adiik’s heart and said, “You have a warrior heart. You’ve earned your blades. Stay strong, verd’ika.”

Adiik had wrapped their arms around Jango’s neck and sobbed into his armor. They wore the belt whenever they visited Kaert now. It was the first thing they put on and the last thing they took off when they came and went.

They jumped when Vaar’ika raised her head, ears twitching as she listened to something. Adiik locked their datapad warily and watched and listened. What had she heard? Was someone coming? Sometimes people got a little lost, but they would just pass-.

Security forces.

Buir.

Adiik felt the blood drain from their face when they saw the three security forces at the top of the gravel slope. One of them their buir. Vaar’ika growled quietly from where she lay, eyes fixed on the three above. Adiik grabbed the back of her scruff with a trembling hand and in Ryl called, “Visitors.”

They hated how their voice trembled.

Their buir and his two friends began to climb down into Kaert’s yard. Adiik refused to run and hide in Kaert’s home. They tightened their grip on Vaar’ika as their buir and his friends reached the yard. He looked around the yard with a small frown and said, “So, this is where you disappear to after school every day. Adiik, you can’t hide something like this from your buir and I. You’ve really upset her.”

Adiik cowered as their buir stepped ever closer. He’d found them. He’d found their sanctuary.

Stop, stop, stop, please, stop, please-.

“That’s far enough.”

Adiik wanted to cry at the sound of Kaert’s voice behind them. They heard the creak of the porch and his leather armor as Kaert crossed the porch. He stood directly behind Adiik, close enough that they could feel the heat of Kaert radiating against their back. They glanced up to see Kaert standing there, thumbs in his belt with a bored expression.

“I don’t believe I invited you onto my property,” Kaert drawled and nodded back towards the path. “Off you go.”

Their buir had stopped at the sight of Kaert and narrowed his eyes at his words. He gestured toward Adiik and declared, “That is my Adiik. What kind of father would I be to leave my child like this?”

“What kind of father, indeed.”

Adiik flinched at Kaert’s tone. It sounded pleasant at first. It wasn’t meant to be though. It was a tone that invited anger. It was worse when their buir tilted his head, considering Kaert carefully.

“You didn’t seem to care that your ad’ika hid up here with me for the last two years.”

Their buir’s jaw clenched at Kaert’s words.

“That is none of your business.”

“It shouldn’t be, but I’ve decided to make it mine.”

Adiik wanted to cry when their buir glanced down at them with furious eyes. He knew that Kaert knew about what happened at home. Their buir took a deep breath and in an overly patient voice sighed, “I don’t know what Adiik has told you, but-.”

“Oh, next to nothing. I prefer actions over words anyway,” Kaert interrupted their buir with a disdainful sniff. Adiik looked up in time to see his expression turn into a snarl as his voice dropped. “And your actions have spoken so clearly you might as well have screamed them from the mountain.”

Their buir’s two friends glanced at each other. Adiik had seen them often. Had once asked one of them for help. Been told to stop lying about where they got their bruises from. They felt a spark of anger. Now that an adult was speaking up for them, the two seemed more inclined to believe them. That spark allowed Adiik enough movement to stand up and hide behind Kaert, drawing their buir’s attention.

“We will discuss your lying at home,” he snapped and flinched when Vaar’ika stood up with a low growl. “Adiik, come here. Now.”

Adiik shook their head and their buir began to stalk forward with barely contained fury.

“I said-!”

He didn’t get very far.

The moment their buir set foot on the porch steps, Kaert lifted a foot and kicked him off of the porch. Their buir fell back onto his back with a wheeze and his two friends got into ready stances, drawing their batons. Adiik inched back when Kaert settled back into his bored stance and drawled, “Adiik can come and go as they please. You three-”

And Kaert nodded at the three members of the local security force.

“-are not welcome here.”

Their buir pushed himself up with a furious expression and drawing his baton, snarled, “You’ll regret doing that.”

Kaert scoffed, shaking his head.

“The only thing I regret is not kicking your sheb sooner.”

Adiik cried out when their buir lunged for Kaert, swinging their baton. Kaert leaned back and used his open palms to guide the baton past them. He grabbed their buir’s arm and yanked his stomach into Kaert’s raised knee. Adiik’s eyes went wide as Kaert shoved their gasping buir away and followed him down with a haughty swagger.

“Come on, show me what the Mandalorians of this age are like.”

The two security forces charged at Kaert, yelling and Adiik hid behind the railing of the porch with a snarling Vaar’ika. Adiik had always known Kaert was good. He’d helped train Jango and he was a seasoned bounty hunter.

Kaert was like the wind in his chimes.

He used minimal movements to avoid the attacks of the two security forces. They stumbled and collided as he used their own movements against them and had them slamming into each other. With a light kick, Kaert had disarmed one of the security forces and twirled the baton in his hands with a grin.

Adiik’s buir pushed himself up with a snarl and charged at Kaert as the other two struggled to their feet. Their buir swung again and again, grunting and snarling while Kaert dodged with ease. The security force members tried to join in, but again Kaert just dodged, only using the baton in his hands when he had to and to deliver final blows to force them to the ground.

“Is this all hut’uun?” Kaert mocked Adiik’s buir when he smacked the younger man to the ground again. Adiik clung to the wooden railing as Kaert stalked to their kneeling and panting buir and used the baton to tilt his face up. “Not so keen to beat me down like you do women and children, eh? What’s it like to fight someone your own size?”

Adiik yelped when they felt a hand grab the back of their shirt and yank them over the railing. Vaar’ika barked and Adiik gasped, “No, Vaar’ika! Stay back!”

One of the security force members had grabbed them. Adiik struggled in the grip as he locked his baton under their chin and pulled them back, facing Kaert. The security force yelled, “Drop the baton! We are leaving!”

The other security force member picked himself up off the ground slowly with a groan and limped towards where Adiik was being held. Kaert was glaring at the two members while Adiik swallowed thickly. Tears rose in their eyes.

Their buir wasn’t going to allow them to come back. Their buir was going to punish them for hiding up here for two years. Their buir was going to hurt them for what happened today.

This was the end of their lessons.

Adiik’s buir slowly pushed himself up and collected the baton from Kaert warily. Once he had backed away enough some of his swagger returned. Their buir raised their chin and snarled, “This isn’t the end, aruetii. I’ll get to you next.”

Kaert lurched a single step forward with a growl and Adiik saw and felt the trio of security force members flinch back. Vaar’ika slunk over to his side and Kaert fixed his eyes on Adiik. They smiled through the tears rolling down their cheeks. They both knew what would happen. They both knew what happened next.

“Vor entye, ba’buir,” Adiik whispered and yelped when their buir grabbed their wrist. They were dragged away, tears falling freely.

It was over.

—

Adiik stumbled as their buir shoved them into the house. They hurried to stay ahead of him as the door sealed behind him and he stalked after them with a murderous look. He pointed towards the mountain and roared, “How dare you! That is how you spent your time? Listening to an old fossil like that from the times of the war?”

He grabbed a glass on the table and threw it at Adiik. They ducked with a yelp and the glass shattered against the wall behind them. They flinched as shards pelted them from behind and hoped nothing had pierced his clothes or skin.

“What the-?” their dal’buir appeared in the doorway from the next room. She was still rubbing sleep from her eyes, but she was wide awake when their jag’buir grabbed her by her long hair.

“Did you know Adiik was up in the mountains with that aruetii?” he demanded as she shrieked in pain. He shook her as he pulled her hair further back. “Did you?”

“No! I didn’t! I didn’t know!”

Their jag’buir released her and whirled around in time to see Adiik place the table between themself and him. He sneered at the attempt and twirled his baton in his right hand. Adiik hiccuped a sob as their jag’buir stalked closer to the table.

“You dared to go against me. Do you know how much you humiliated me?” he snarled as he slowly circled the table. Adiik stumbled a little, but did their best to always keep the table between them. “Always you shame me. You’re disgusting. Filth. You deserve everything that happens to you. Everyone should be grateful that I take care of you and try to drill some respect into that thick skull of yours.”

Adiik screamed when hands suddenly grabbed them. They looked up wide-eyed to see their dal’buir. They could feel her trembling, but her grip was firm on their arms as they struggled to break free. Heavy steps made their head whip around to see their jag’buir approaching with a sneer.

No! Nononononononono-!

Their jag’buir slowly wound up with the baton and Adiik screamed their fear, hands scrabbling for anything, any purchase, any-.

A hilt.

Adiik’s fingers curled around the hilt and without thinking, yanked it out.

Multiple things happened at once.

Glass shattered.

Dal’buir screamed, releasing Adiik.

Silver flashed.

Their jag’buir howled with pain and stumbled back, baton clattering to the ground. He pressed his hands to his abdomen and Adiik’s eyes widened when he saw the red seeping through. They staggered back and looked down at their hands. Their beskar dagger, coated in red in their left hand.

“You little-!”

Adiik flinched when their jag’buir lunged forward only for there to be a loud ‘whoosh’. A blue and white figure slammed into their jag’buir, throwing them aside. He collapsed on the ground with a cry of pain while their dal’buir screamed somewhere in the background.

Adiik blinked in a daze as they started to absorb what had happened.

The living room window had been shattered. Adiik had stabbed their jag’buir. And now a Mandalorian stood in their living room after saving them from the retaliation from their jag’buir.

The Mandalorian straightened, glass crunching under their boots. Their beskar armor was painted light blue and white; even the jetpack strapped to their back. Their visor was fixed on Adiik’s jag’buir and they heard a scoff from the vocoder.

“And stay down this time,” they growled and Adiik’s eyes widened at the familiar voice. Even through the vocoder, it had to be!

“Kaert?”

The visor turned to focus on Adiik and they could feel the smirk on his face.

“Here to save the day.”

Adiik sobbed as they threw themself at Kaert. He caught them with a grunt and patted their back. He pulled the bloody dagger from Adiik’s hands and murmured, “You did well. You defended yourself. You’re safe. I’m here.”

They flinched when they heard a shuffling and they pulled the teary face from the cool beskar. Their jag’buir was struggling to get up while pressing a hand to their bleeding abdomen. Their dal’buir hovered beside him and had tears running down her face.

“I’ll kill you for this,” their jag’buir hissed through clenched teeth. Adiik felt cold at his words and their hands curled tightly into Kaert.

“You can try, but I doubt a hut’uun like you would do well against a True Mandalorian,” Kaert taunted him. Adiik’s eyes widened as their buire cursed Kaert. A True Mandalorian? Hadn’t they all been killed? Questions for another time as Kaert looked down at Adiik. They held the dagger out to Adiik and asked, “What do you wish to do Ad’ika?”

Adiik took the dagger hesitantly, glancing between their buire and Kaert.

“What are my choices?”

“Stay here with your buire. Continue to endure their beatings, indifference and twisted sense of love,” Kaert stated their first option in such a cool tone that it made Adiik shiver. The very thought… Their insides twisted with terror.

“The other option?”

“Come away with me,” Kaert said in such a soft tone that the vocoder almost didn’t pick it up. Adiik looked up at him in surprise and Kaert reached up to cup their face with one gloved hand. “I’ll take you away from here. I’ll do my best to raise you and give you everything you deserve. Everything you should have been given, but was robbed by these hut’uune.”

The last part was directed at Adiik’s buire with more venom than they had ever heard from him before it almost distracted them from Kaert’s request.

To leave.

To leave everything behind.

This house.

These parents.

This town.

This world.

This life.

To shed it like the leaves of a tree in winter. To start somewhere new with Kaert and Vaar’ika. A family that actually loved and cared for them. Respected them.

The choice was clear.

Adiik sobbed with relief. They couldn’t even say the words. They just cried and nodded, but Kaert understood. He bowed his head and touched his forehead to Adiik’s.

“Then let us go. Vaar’ika is waiting and I called a friend to pick us up somewhere else.”

A friend. Hopefully, that meant Jango. Adiik nodded and tightened their grip on Kaert’s hand. They only stopped when they heard their jag’buir snarl, “You can’t go! You are mine!”

Adiik turned to look at where their jag’buir lay panting. Their dal’buir nodded quickly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“You can’t,” she pleaded and Adiik let go of Kaert’s hand to slowly approach them. She shot them a watery smile, reaching out to them with one hand. “I’m your buir. You can’t leave me.”

Adiik stared down at them. Beskar dagger still in their hand. It would be so easy. To return the pain they had given them. Just a fraction of it.

Make them hurt. Make them suffer. They deserve it. Called you a liar. Said you were nothing. That you were filth.

“I have no buire,” Adiik stated softly. Their dal’buir hiccuped in shock at their words and Adiik slipped the beskar dagger back into its sheath. “My buire died long ago when they decided to raise their fists instead of embracing me.”

They took a step back, reaching backwards and found what they were looking for. A warm, gloved hand enveloping theirs.

“I only have my ba’buir.”

They turned away and ignoring the desperate pleading of the woman and the furious roars of the man, Kaert led Akiid to the shattered floor length window. Kaert groaned as he lifted Akiid up into his arms and asked, “Ready, Ad’ika?”

Adiik looked over Kaert’s shoulder one more time. They really were leaving everything behind. They weren’t filled with dread though.

No, they were thrilled.

“Ready, ba’buir.”

Kaert activated his jetpack and took Adiik away.

Far, far away.

—

“Let me get this straight,” Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard drawled. He sounded as if he had the worst headache pounding inside his skull. In this case the headache was sitting across from him in the interrogation room in the form of a 5’5 Mandalorian in blue and red armor. “You were going to 79s with clone troopers Chad and Purse when you saw a girl being handled roughly by a man and you decided to intervene.”

“Yes, Al’verde.”

“I think a beroya of your skill subdued him quickly.”

“That is a fair assumption, Al’verde.”

“Then how do you explain the bruises, cracked bones and broken hand?”

Ah, that was the problem.

Aran shrugged, leaving their arms crossed. Their visor focused on Fox’s visor.

“An accident.”

“‘An accident’,” Fox repeated, disbelief dripping from each word. Aran was almost surprised Fox didn’t vibrate out of his seat with his barely restrained annoyance. Perhaps the exhaustion was acting as a counteragent. “And how did this ‘accident’ happen?”

“He kept falling on my fists. Very clumsy man.”

Fox and Aran just stared at each other. Dimly, Aran was aware of cackling behind the one way mirror.

Fox threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his chair.

“Fine. That’s how we’ll book it,” Fox snarled, grabbing his datapad so hard Aran was afraid it would crack in his grip. Aran flinched when Fox jabbed a finger in their direction. “I will leave this to Cody, but if I hear anything in the next day from you or your vode, I will hunt all of you down!”

“Yes, Al’verde.”

Aran felt the glare Fox was directing their way through the visor before stalking out of the room, snarling curses under his breath. Only then did Aran relax to uncross their arms with a sigh. They shook out their aching hands. After clenching them for so long, they hurt.

“All four of you never cease to make me laugh.”

Aran looked up to see Commander Cody stepping into the interrogation room. They smiled behind their helmet at Cody’s giddy smile and just shrugged. They stood up and murmured, “I just did what was right.”

Cody’s smile fell and Aran watched as they looked him up and down with their sharp eyes.

“This was personal.”

Perceptive as always.

“It was.”

“Hm,” Cody hummed thoughtfully and Aran wanted to move on. They didn’t like talking about it. They started to approach the door when Cody held up a hand. “I was asked to pass along a message from when I came here. A little girl begged me to tell you ‘thank you’. Ran off before I could offer to take her to you personally.”

Aran felt their heart warm.

“She wouldn’t have followed you,” they said and even they could hear the fond smile in their voice. “Adults are liars. They can’t be trusted.”

“Is that what you used to think? Or still think?”

Aran focused on Cody again. They slowly inclined their head at his words.

“Adults will say what they believe or want to be the truth,” Aran answered, tapping a finger against their belt. They missed the weight of their weapons. The Coruscant Guard had taken them earlier. “A father that feels like a failure will tell his family that it is their fault. A mother will accept the blame and tell her children that it is true and to quietly accept the abuse. It’s all lies, but they believe it to be true.”

The two stared at each other until Cody nodded, clapping a hand against Aran’s shoulder.

“We all want to believe the lies we tell ourselves,” Cody said in a somber tone. He shook his head and when he nudged Aran’s arm, his smile had returned. “Now, let’s get your weapons and get out of here. Chad, Kit and Purse are waiting for you outside.”

“Purse probably can’t wait to mock me for taking so long.”

“Purse is also the one too terrified to step look Fox in the eye.”

Aran threw their head back and laughed.

This was right.

Leaving had been hard.

It had also been the best decision Aran had made in their life.

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