#but Ninja? Not the slightest bit concerned

[turbulentscrawl]

Hii! Could I ask for Luchino (either survivor or hunter)with a Modern Reader please? Pls take your time too!

Any day I get to write about Luchino is a good day!

Warning: there is one suggestive comment in here, but it's mostly sfw.

-Creation theory, timelines, and alternate reality stuff really isn’t in his academic wheelhouse, but that doesn’t stop him from being curious and having some thoughts on the situation. He’ll be one of the handful who seek you out early on with questions at the ready, and he’ll spitball theories about your existence with the others of higher education. Unlike the others, though, he mostly focuses on what knowledge you may have about studies on medicine and evolution. If you’re not very well-informed about those fields…his interest in you wanes pretty quickly. As far as he’s concerned, you’re just another face in the manor, not any different from the others. (If you are informed about those topics, though, he wants you at his side constantly.)

-He’s not rude at all to you, though. Luchino doesn’t place much stock in superstition or religion, so he doesn’t fear you, and he’s polite to people who return him the courtesy. But he’s also not going to make a special effort for you unless your brain is worth picking. You’ll have to get to know him the normal way, over time, like everyone else.

-He doesn’t mind if you take interest in him, either. He’s not an easy man to cling to, but if you take comfort in his presence for some reason he’s content to let you linger nearby when he’s not working. Luchino doesn’t go out of his way to stand up for people he’s not close with, but at the same time he won’t stand for people causing any kind of trouble in his presence. It’s annoying, at the very least.

-He’s also very blunt and unabashed by topics other people may by shy about. So aside from Emily, he’s one of the better people ask about health and hygiene concerns. Even if you’re a woman, he’s not embarrassed or ashamed to discuss those things with you. They’re important, after all, and he’s very used to educating other people.

-He’s get a kick out of reptilian/monster-hybrid pop culture references. Godzilla, Ninja Turtles, etc. It’s just ironic, is all. He’s not ashamed of his work in the slightest, but there is a stigma around his existence now. So to hear that the modern world loves thins of his nature makes him chuckle. He’d insist you tell his hunter counterpart about them as well. And I’m not saying to tell them about monsterfuckers…but if you do it’s gonna put some ideas in both their heads.

-He also lowkey likes how filthy some of modern music is. He’s stunned the first time you play some of it for him, but then he just starts laughing about it and asks for more examples. The music itself isn’t always to his taste, but it’s a pleasant-ish surprise to hear exactly how shameless people have become in our time. He always did think people were a bit too prudish about bodies and sex. Just look at him—tiddies out and everything.

-He may ask about your phone after overhearing you talk to someone else about it, but the largest reaction you’ll get is that he’s very disappointed to learn you don’t have an internet connection in the manor. If you did…you might never get your phone back. He’d ask to borrow it constantly and spend long hours pouring over the years of research and development that came after his time. He does, at least, take good care of it.

-He’s intelligent and a fast learner, so he adjusts to any of your technology easily. He’s one of the few in the manor who can use your phone without needing any assistance, which may come in handy during matches.

[mixelation]

okay i wrote a scene from the reborn au. here's team disaster

Tori sat in the grass, her water canteen propped up between her knees. A stack of mismatched bento boxes Kushina-senei had “lovingly” filled with food sat next to her. Kushina-sensei herself paced the grass in front of Tori, occasionally blocking her view of Deidara and Itachi beating the snot out of each other.  

Tori had been aware, in her previous life, that Itachi and Deidara were simply on a different level from other ninja. Now this knowledge was even more acute. Itachi’s form was perfect and deadly. Deidara’s style was more lax but just as quick and lethal. They frequently blurred in front of her, moving too fast for her eyes to track, and she knew this is just them fucking around because Kusina-sensei told them to spar. She couldn’t imagine a world someone like her could keep up. 

Kushina pouted as she paced, occasionally shooting Tori a look like she expected Tori to do or say something. Maybe she wanted Tori to ask questions, or to demand to be taught the crazy spinning kick Itachi just used to knock Deidara over. 

Tori smiled back at Kushina. It didn’t bother her too much that she wasn’t some sort of genetic freak like Itachi and Deidara. Sure, she’d like to be able to keep her own in a fight if one happened to happen to her, and using ninjutsu would be cool, but her motives for becoming a shinobi of Konoha had very little to do with wanting to kick ass and a lot more to do with wanting a soft, safe bed at night and a whole research department to exploit during the day. 

(Also, Kushina’s cooking was pretty good. The free lunch was a nice bonus.) 

Besides, if Tori decided she wanted to kill some ninja that was out of her league, she’d figure out her own way to make it happen. She’d done it before with less. 

Itachi finally cracked a tree trunk with Deidara’s head, and Kushina-sensei paused her pacing, propping a hand on her hip. Her brows furrowed minutely, but it wasn’t out of concern for Deidara. No, Tori was positive that Kushina-sensei was frustrated because Itachi and Deidara needed no coaching or teaching from her whatsoever. 

Tori felt a little bad for her. Kushina-sensei was kind of pushy and loud, but she enthusiastically presented them with a homemade lunch everyday, and she’d seemed so excited to teach them that first day. It wasn’t fair that she got handed a team with two ninja that were secretly S-ranked missing-nin instead of cute genin who actually needed her guidance. That was why, when Kushina-sensei shot Tori another look, Tori hopped to her feet and clapped her hands together in the world’s worst applause. 

“Nice hustle, Itachi!” she called. 

Itachi turned to stare at her over his shoulder, like she’d said something a little bit stupid. If she didn’t already know him, Tori thought this expression would be a bit intimidating. Unfortunately for Itachi, she’d met infinitely scarier people. She clapped harder. 

Deidara was mostly unharmed, except for maybe his ego. He shoved Itachi as they walked up the hill to meet Kushina-sensei and Tori. 

“Next time we use jutsu, yeah!” Deidara declared. “Then you’ll be eating bark.”

“Uh-uh, not unless we get a higher clearance training ground, you know,” Kushina-sensei chided, now with both hands on her hips. “Okay, since Itachi won, he spars Tori next.”

There was a long, awkward pause.

“I’d rather not,” Tori said. 

Kushina-sensei just raised her eyebrows at her. “Well, you’re gonna,” she replied. 

“I won’t break anything,” Itachi added solemnly. 

“I don’t want to,” Tori insisted. “I don’t see what the point would be.”

She was just going to make a fool of herself. She’d be okay with a proper teaching spar– the kind where the more experienced shinobi carefully guided the spar. She didn’t trust Itachi or Deidara to have the slightest idea how to do this. Kushina-sensei was ordering her to go let Itachi kick her ribs in for no reason. 

“Kid, I am your Jounin sensei, you know,” Kushina-sensei told her, eyes just a little incredulous. “You have to do what I say, no matter what.”

Deidara was looking at her the way he would right before she did any sort of fuinjutsu, like he expected her to accidentally set the grassy field on fire or something. Was talking back to a teacher really so scandalous? 

“Do you need a pep talk, girl to girl?” Kushina-sensei pressed, eyes lighting up in a way that Tori did not want to deal with. 

“Fine, fine,” Tori grumbled. Meeting Itachi’s eyes, she said, “If you do break something, you owe me dinner for a week.”

Itachi faced her the way Deidara had looked at her sometimes, when they’d been renegade ninja buddies for a month. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak or delicate, or even that Tori couldn’t be incredibly dangerous under the right circumstances, but more that he’d already sorted her into a category of non-combatant. There was an uneasiness in his body language, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t used to reading him. Itachi still thought of her as a civilian, and one he theoretically liked. Fighting her hand-to-hand was as inconceivable to him as it was to her.  

He did proceed to fight her with kiddy gloves on, she thought, because she saw every hit coming even as she failed to dodge. The fight ended with her limping back to the pile of bento, sweaty and bruised all over and slightly embarrassed. This would have almost been better in her old life, where expectations for her taijutsu were in the negatives. 

“Okay!” Kushina-sensei cried, sounding more excited than she should be. “Let’s analyze what happened!”

The analysis was basically just Kushina waving her arms and listing things Tori needed to improve, because Itachi’s taijustu was borderline perfect. Tori opened her canteen and took a long chug of water while Kushina-sensei babbled. A couple of insights were useful, but most of it boiled down to “Itachi is just better than you in every way.” It would be humiliating, Tori thought, if she were actually twelve or if she didn’t already have a history with both Itachi and Deidara. 

It wasn’t completely not embarrassing, though! For once maybe they could do an exercise Tori would excel at, like having a pleasant conversation with a stranger, or what to do if the scroll you stole was sealed up tight. 

Deidara turned his head to hide a smirk at her expense. Tori considered chucking her canteen at him. 

“Oh,” Itachi suddenly said, head whipping round from where he’d gotten bored and turned to watch a dragonfly. “Tori, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your tree-walking is all wrong.”

Tori stared back at him. “What?”

Kushina-sensei practically exploded with joy at the chance at a teaching moment. They were all ushered down the hill and over to the tree line to watch the incredibly mundane sight of Tori walking up a tree. 

“What, because she’s slow?” Deidara asked, watching as Tori flipped herself over to stand on the bottom side of a branch. The long braid she’s tied up her hair in dangled centimeters from brushing the grass below.

“I think I’m doing fine,” Tori sniffed. Kushina-sensei too seemed confused about what the problem was. Sure, Tori slipped or mistimed the jutsu sometimes, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t getting better and better with practice. 

“No, you’re…” Itachi trailed off, staring at her. Unlike for their spar, he’d activated the sharingan. “You might be doing that in the least efficient way possible. Who taught you?”

Tori glared back at him. She was barely using any chakra to stick herself to trees and buildings nowadays, thank you very much. If she was expected to be even more efficient then she might as well just quit being a ninja now. 

“No one taught me,” Tori replied. “It’s just the leaf exercise but on your feet, isn’t it?”

Kushina-sensei’s eyes widened in horror, and Deidara burst into hysterical laughter. 

“What?” Tori demanded. She was standing on a tree, wasn’t she?!

“Oh, Tori….” Kushina-sensei said. 

As it turned out, tree walking wasn’t just activating and deactivating the leaf exercise to stick plant matter to yourself as you hopped around in a tree canopy, carefully timing sticking and unsticking yourself to the tree with every step. Apparently that was an insane way to do it, and Deidara kept spontaneously choking on his own laughter over how insane a thing to do it was. No, tree-walking only required a thin layer of chakra on the bottom of your shoes, and you could easily stick and unstick yourself without having to constantly adjust it. 

It was a team effort to explain this to her, everyone talking at once. Apparently if you’d already solved a problem in the most cursed way possible, everyone wanted to correct you. Still, she managed to parse what she should have been doing from the cacophony of noise. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tori demanded of her feet, glaring down at her sandals as she walked up a second tree, this time with about a million times the ease. 

“Wait,” Deidara wheezed, straightening up from where he’d had to lean against another tree he was laughing so hard. “Tori, how have you been water-walking?”

Tori stared back at him, expression dead. “You don’t want to know.”

[tokyoafterschoolsummoner]

UwU

Can we please get some lovely headcanons for our dog Shinobi Tadatomo, pretty please 🥺?

Happy pride month yall have some of your gay shit specially provided by me

Tadatomo absolutely loves showing off, despite being a ninja that's supposed to be discrete he'll act really cool and suave to impress you

Tadatomo is all about loyalty and its really obvious since the guy is just absolutely obsessed with you, you can break his cool front with the slightest bit of affection and he'd just fall for you, sometimes literally.

tadatomo can and will work extra just so he can afford you something you'd want if you tell him you want something he'll be like "Okay" and just go get it for you he especially loves seeing your reaction if its a surprise gift

his fur is very very very warm. the guy is like made of fire so if it's a cold night you can snuggle up really close to him, tadatomo is your human(therian?) comforter. and he has absolutely no qualms about this, he loves snuggling up to you as much as you do to him.

he lets you do whatever you want to him too, not mentioning the more intense stuff you can use the man like a stress toy, just pat him or squeeze him, he'll enjoy it.

tadatomo is a lot more subtle in public just a look or holding hands when it comes to pda but when its private you can praise him as much as you want and he'll melt into your hands

tadatomo is very protective of you, as is with many of the hakkenshi when he's out and has the time he'll call you up just to check on you, if you don't respond for any reason he gets very concerned very quick.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: AIC 24

"Please concentrate. I need you to be as precise as possible."

Sakura tried to neaten her posture, but it was already perfect.

"I didn't know she was following me until she spoke." Sasuke was perfectly professional. His hands probably weren't clammy at all. "I couldn't visually follow the movement she made."

"With Sharingan?"

The Sandaime might have been the slightest bit incredulous.

Sasuke's jaw was a little tenser. "Yes, Sandaime-sama. With the Sharingan." He adjusted his footing every so slightly. "The suspect collided with Gaara-san, and then as far as I could tell, both disappeared."

"Indeed." He tapped his fingers on the desk just once. "Please repeat once more her words, with tone and body language as you remember them."

Sasuke dutifully repeated the conversation for the second time, though this time he neglected to mention that she had mussed his hair afterwards. That was a shame, because it was the best part, as far as she was concerned. Was his hair cute that way?

Was the Sandaime making eye contact with someone behind them? Sakura didn't let herself look. After a moment, the feeling that he wasn't paying them full attention fled when his attention came to rest on her. "You have had the most extensive interactions with Uzumaki-san in Wave, Sakura-chan." She shook, a little. "Please give me your honest impressions of her at the time, not those you formed with new information after returning to Konoha."

She took a shaky breath. "I thought she was intelligent, kind, and reliable. I also thought she was frivolous, self-centered, and socially intense."

"Intense?" The Sandaime raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Sakura remembered the toothy grin that had not fit Aiko-san's image. "At times, she seemed more affectionate to us than was warranted by our brief acquaintance," she said slowly. That wasn't quite it, but she couldn't think of a better way to phrase the oddity that had twinged at her. "Or maybe it was disproportionate investment?" she tried. "She expressed concern for our team's well-being and cohesion that doesn't make sense coming from an unrelated shinobi, and pushed the boundaries of reasonable behavior from the civilian she was portraying."

"Did any particular interaction give you a strong sense that something was unusual?"

She didn't have to think about it long. She'd gone over this in her head more than once, trying to pinpoint anything that would have given away the civilian charade. "The conversations we had the first night," Sakura admitted. "I'm not sure what exactly struck me as so odd. The conversational content was mostly normal- she asked about our families, gave some compliments, and talked about how she knew Tsunami-san." She snuck a glance at Naruto. He was looking forward, at the wall.

"The blatantly odd thing was that she was shocked to see Naruto," Sakura said quietly. She resisted the urge to look at her shoes. "Uzumaki-san dropped her teacup, and then invited him to join us. Not long after, she had a conversation with Tsunami-san in the hallway, addressing her concerns about Naruto's health."

Sasuke shot her a sideways look with a question. He hadn't read her report, and she hadn't mentioned that aloud.

She avoided making eye contact and put her chin up a little higher.

"I thought Uzumaki-san was just a friendly person when she asked us about our lives and families. But Uzumaki-san is related to Naruto. Somehow. So she was almost certainly more interested in Naruto, and being nice to Sasuke and I to obscure her focus," Sakura put forward. "She was trying to gather information about him in specific." She cleared her throat.

That stung, a little. She'd thought… it had felt nice to think that she was someone's favorite. And Uzumaki-san had offered her career advice, not Naruto or Sasuke. That wasn't like Kakashi-sensei at all. She hadn't even seen him since he told her to follow Sasuke during the invasion. Of course, most of the senior jounin were suddenly missing. But she… she didn't think he was dead. Someone would have told her.

Sandaime-sama was already moving on, turning his attention to Naruto. Sakura tore her attention away from her sadness and anxiety and back to the less painful immediate topic.

'Aiko-san didn't care about what I said when I talked about my family. She only asked me questions so that it wouldn't seem odd when she talked to Naruto.'

Of course Aiko-san had asked about family. That would be the reasonable thing to do if she was surprised to see a relative. She had to have recognized him by his features. That probably meant she knew who his parents were? Or that he had a strong Uzumaki resemblance, Sakura decided. Aiko-san hadn't really asked about parents… lack of interest? That strongly fit with the theory that Aiko had recognized Naruto by one or both of his parents.

She stole a glance at her teammate. He did have unconventional features. His coloring was unusual, but it was the shape of his face that was just a bit foreign. Did Aiko-san's face look like his? She strained, but couldn't exactly remember. She needed side by side comparison. If Naruto looked a lot like Aiko-san…

'I probably would have noticed,' Sakura thought dryly. 'I saw them next to each other a lot. So unless Naruto is the only one of the two with distinctive Uzumaki traits, that must mean that it was the parental recognition.'

The really weird thing… if asking about siblings wasn't just idle conversation, then… why would she do that? That only made sense if she thought Naruto should have a sibling, or was invested in knowing if he had one. Or knowing if he knew he had -

Her mouth opened in an O.

She looked up, blinking quickly and trying to catch on to where the conversation had gone. Naruto was still talking to the Sandaime, relating something about his training with Jiraiya and Aiko-san sitting in on it. That was a surprise to her, but it made a sinking kind of sense with the theory she had to get out into the open.

It burst out of her without any decorum. "Aiko-san wanted to know about Naruto's family because-"

"Haruno-san," a voice snapped out, shouting enough to cover her voice. "Do not interrupt your Hokage."

She jerked.

A jounin she'd seen around was giving her a stern look. How long had he been in the office?

Everyone was looking at her. She felt her face flush scarlet with embarrassment at her rudeness, but the shame was fighting with the urgency to share her theory. "But," she tried. "There was – I had a thought." Her voice piped down to nearly nothing.

"It's quite alright, Genma-san." The Sandaime was giving her an intense look. His tone was paternal, but she wasn't soothed. "Sakura-chan is a agitated by events, as we all are." He gave her a smile. "Genma, would you escort her out for a breath of fresh air? I think we could all use a moment. Once you return, I'd like to hear your thought, Sakura-chan."

Meek and embarrassed, she avoided looking at her teammates and allowed the jounin to lead her out. She'd been so disruptive that she'd been removed from the briefing. That was… she was never going to let Ino-pig know that her temper was still so poor.

"Haruno-chan, let's have a walk," the jounin- Genma? Genma-san- said, so gently that it was almost certainly an apology for shouting at her. "Have you ever seen the jounin breakroom?"

'Obviously not! Do I look like a jounin?'

She gave him a smile. "No, sir."

He stuck his hands in his pockets and gave her a grin as he started walking in a way she'd never gone before. It was incredibly goofy. Against her conscious desire, she found her shoulders relaxing a bit.

"You know, I've gotten excited enough to mouth off in a debriefing," he confided. "It happens."

Sakura managed a weak laugh and trotted at his left side. "Naruto does it a lot. I'm sorry. I'm not usually like that."

"I believe it," he said generously. "Hold up, we better be quiet for a while. You don't want to disturb people working in this area." He held open a stairwell door for her, but jogged up the stairs fast enough that he passed her again before he reached the exit. He unlocked it by typing a number string in faster than she could see. The door buzzed and he held it open for her. They passed a desk with two senior shinobi who watched them walk by silently.

'This is definitely not a place where I belong.'

She didn't know if she wanted to slink or to try to look confident. She settled for trying to look a lot less interested in their surroundings than she was. It was hard, when they kept passing doors with names she didn't understand and spiderwebbing seals that she wanted to take a closer look at.

"Most of this belongs to offices you've never heard of," Genma said quietly. "Maybe you'll find yourself in one of them, someday."

Sakura gave him a polite look to hide her doubt. On the jounin floor? She was talented enough to make chuunin, for sure. But jounin? Probably not.

He chuckled, so her thoughts probably hadn't been as hidden as she'd hoped. "Oh, you might be surprised." Genma-san opened a sliding down and sauntered inside. She followed a step behind and pulled the door shut automatically.

The room was noticeably warmer than the hallway. It was actually very comfortable. It had big windows and a ring of soft seating. There were three coffee machines crowded onto the counter space, which was somewhat ominous.

"This is the jounin lounge?" Sakura asked, even though she was pretty sure.

Genma-san plopped down in a puddle of light from a tall window. His adam apple moved as he adjusted the senbon in his mouth- when had he put a weapon in his mouth? Ew. "Yupp," Genma-san verified. He closed his eyes.

He was… a little weirder than she'd thought. Sakura picked a seat reasonably close and sat primly, smoothing her dress over her knees. "It's empty."

Genma-san snorted. "Sure is. It has chairs, too. Anything else that you spot?"

Sakura pursed her lips, because obviously she had been politely prompting for information about why it was empty and how he'd known that. But… well. It was all above her clearance. So he'd probably understood and chosen not to answer, she reasoned.

"What was it, earlier?" Genma-san cracked an eye open to peer at her. He seemed only mildly curious. "What was so interesting you started shouting over the Hokage?"

She winced at that description, but it wasn't wrong. "We know that Uzumaki-san is related to Naruto," Sakura started.

All she got in response was a nod and a sort of 'go on,' wave.

She licked her lips. "Uzumaki-san knew Naruto on sight, which implied it was by resemblance. That could either mean a general clan resemblance, or a resemblance to a specific person, likely a parent. She asked about family casually, but was not interested in pushing for details about parents. That implies that she knew who the parent was, because she would have been trying to establish that person's identity if she was trying to figure out how Naruto was related to her."

Genma-san opened his eyes. He was watching her impassively. Something in her hindbrain twinged a warning that something wasn't right, but she couldn't stop now.

"So she knew Naruto on sight, by his resemblance to a parent." By this point she was talking fast enough that Iruka-sensei would have asked her to calm down. "She asked about siblings- why would she do that? Either she wants to know if he has them, or she suspected or knew that he has at least one sibling. She seemed surprised that he said no- she actually asked that twice."

Sakura took a quick breath. "So she really thought Naruto had a sibling and she was surprised to hear that he didn't. So. That probably means that she has strong reason to think he has a sibling. She could just be wrong. But if she's not wrong? She probably knew details about this person, and they're probably older than Naruto. She wasn't trying to find out if this person existed, she wanted either current details or to find out what Naruto knew about this person. And he knew nothing. That's very odd, if he really has a sibling. Why would she know if he doesn't know?"

Sakura knew her pitch was unpleasantly high but the panic of realization was back again. "Because she's the sibling. That's how they're related. She didn't know about Naruto, so when she met him, she wanted to know if he knew about her."

Sakura stopped, breathing hard. It took her a moment to realize that Genma was giving her only a small, mildly incredulous smile.

"That's…" he shook his head gently. "That's remarkably well-done, Sakura-san." Genma-san pulled the senbon out of his teeth and twirled it.

She looked at him. "You're not surprised," Sakura said. "You… had the same idea? Does the Hokage think so too?"

The Jounin let out a whistle. "Kid, you're going to go places with a brain like that." He crossed an ankle over his thigh. "But where you're not going is back to that office to share your theory."

Sakura stared. "That sounds like you're going to kill me."

Genma-san didn't laugh. "We're investigating the possibility of treason, Haruno-san." His voice was suddenly, painfully weary. "I hope you understand the serious nature of what you've stumbled upon here."

Wait, what? Her thoughts were roaring, but self preservation had finally hopped forward to keep Sakura's face blank. Treason? Aiko-san couldn't be a traitor unless she'd been a shinobi of Konohagakure. And surely they would have recognized her if she had been- she hadn't even changed her name.

'Whatever is going on… it isn't Aiko-san who is in trouble.'

"Yes," Genma-san said. "Consider this your notification that your speculation is classified. Speak to no one, unless the Hokage tells you differently." He sniffed once and stood up. "I think it's about time to go back, don't you?"

'No one?' Sakura wondered, mechanically following. 'Not… tell no one except your jounin-sensei? Did he just… leave that out? Or if Kakashi-sensei not supposed to know about this? Is that why he didn't come to this meeting- they thought he might think the same thing that I did?'

She didn't say a word. But… by the time they reached the Sandaime's secretary to ask approval to enter, Sakura was concentrating on one question:

'I wonder if Naruto could tell me who his parents are. I thought they must be dead. But the Sandaime wouldn't waste his time investigating possible treason from dead people.'

When the door opened, she saw the Sandaime look at Genma-san too quickly for Sasuke and Naruto to catch. Genma-san did… something fast with his right hand that Sakura couldn't see.

She plastered on a smile.

"Are you feeling better?" the Sandaime asked kindly.

Sakura nodded, and slipped into an apologetic bow to hide her face. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry. Please excuse me."

"It's no trouble." He was making uncomfortably direct eye contact when she lifted her head. "You returned at a good time, Sakura-chan. I was just asking your teammates if they had any questions and concerns?"

Naruto threw his hand up and waved. "The Yondaime!"

"That's a rumor," Sasuke-kun muttered, leaving off the "idiot".

"Kiba said Ino said-" Naruto started arguing. She lost interest. She could ask Ino directly and get better information than Naruto would report.

Sakura pressed her lips together and tried not to be too obvious about looking Naruto over. In profile, he was… kind of cute, she grudgingly admitted. In a girly way. Maybe his nose could be a match to Aiko-san's. Was their eye shape the same? She snapped back to paying attention when Naruto broke semi-dignified reporting posture in order to plant both hands on the Sandaime's desk.

"It's not a rumor that you fought the other Hokage, right old man?" He grinned obnoxiously.

Sakura winced.

Her teammate leaned his weight onto the Hokage's desk and let his feet come off the ground. "That's true, right?" Naruto wiggled his butt. She looked away hastily. God, he was so embarrassing!

"Get down, idiot!" Sasuke-kun hissed. He grabbed Naruto's collar and yanked the team disaster back to his feet. Naruto went with a squawk and immediately tried to jab Sasuke-kun in the gut.

The Sandaime watched the tussle with impassive fondness. "That's true, Naruto," he agreed. He pulled open a drawer and extracted his pipe. "Orochimaru revived past Hokage. However, his control was broken." He lit up his pipe. "Thank you for coming, team 7. I believe the mission desk downstairs has work for you. After that, please report to the hospital for your check-up appointments. You will be getting a full physical, with x-rays and bloodwork, so be prepared. Goodbye."

All three genin saluted on reflex. Sakura was halfway out the door before she realized that the Sandaime hadn't answered Naruto's question.

She woke up. Aiko moved slowly, smoothing down the futon cover again and again with her palms to get the wrinkles out. She stood and grimaced at the taste in her mouth. Mission number one was to brush her teeth. The toothbrush was- where had she left the damn thing? It wasn't in the cup to the right of her sink, it wasn't sitting on the rim, it wasn't-

"This is just sad," Sanbi commented. "You must plan better if you will attempt this lifestyle."

He was right. Aiko flinched and fed her own restored chakra to the Rinnegan. Her purple toothbrush innocently looked back at her from where it was balanced on top of her face wash.

"Why did I do that?" Aiko frowned and tried not to make eye contact with her reflection as she cleaned her mouth. "That's a stupid place to put a toothbrush."

"I usually do my best not to wonder," Sanbi said contemplatively. "Last week, you left it on top of the clothes washer. Also, the lid to the nori that you misplaced last night? It is actually under the sofa."

That didn't sound right, but she didn't remember well enough to argue. Aiko caught her mirror self's creepy eye and frowned automatically. When she spat out the foam, she conscientiously put the toothbrush into the cup where it was supposed to live. "Stay," she muttered.

When she made her bleary way out to the kitchen, Aiko paused. It was weird to see someone else there. "Good morning," she decided. "How was your night?"

Gaara didn't look at her directly. In the clear light of day, the stains and wrinkles on his clothes were apparent, as was the sallow quality of his skin.

'Has anyone taught this child about hygiene?' Aiko wondered. 'He doesn't seem to take care of himself well.'

He needed to be outfitted. She should delegate it- but he was her kid. She needed to take care of him.

She ruffled his hair as she walked past- or she tried to, anyway. She scraped her fingers on a cloud of sand.

She checked Gaara's face. He seemed more resigned than wary or standoffish… She didn't think he'd been the one to push her away. So Aiko raised an eyebrow and slowly, deliberately reached past the slowly churning resistance to run her fingers through his rough hair. Two guesses as to what the grainy texture at the base of the strands was- "You need a bath, little one." She stepped directly in front of him and pulled her hands back to herself. She made a note to wash her hands- there were old, spare bis of people in that sand. Gross.

'I wonder if I can get him clean sand. Can sand be washed? His sand should be washed.'

Gaara was watching her with slightly narrowed eyes, but he didn't seem to outright reject the idea of a bath.

"After we eat breakfast, I would like for you to shower and borrow some of my clothes. Once you're out, we can go shopping for your personal effects and have what you're wearing now washed." She waited for a response.

He opened his mouth after a protracted silence. "Fine."

'Oh my god, he's talking to me.'

She beamed at him. That was the first word of the day, and it was a good one.

"You are alarming that child."

Aiko toned her grin down to something more dignified and turned to scavenge for breakfast. She filled the rice cooker halfway and turned it on- oh, that was going to take a while… The fridge held 5 eggs, some more cabbage and onion, soy sauce, mirin… Milk. Not much else.

Well then. They were going to eat scrambled eggs with chopped onion and cabbage on top of rice. And then she was going to find more vegetables, because he needed to get on a healthy diet.

Which reminded her…

'I need to contact Konoha and politely remind them that I expect the accommodations for my puppies to include age appropriate amounts and variety of nutrients. None of that gruel bullshit. I'm not doing that to their people.'

Sanbi sighed.

"Breakfast is going to take a while. Let's go find something you can borrow, okay?" Aiko didn't wait for a response. It was enough to know that he followed her to her bedroom and stood in the doorway while she dug through the cheap plastic drawer set in her closet. She scavenged two long-sleeved t shirts. Neither of them really seemed like his style- they were both slightly stretchy material. One was red, the other dark blue. As for pants- The only thing that seemed remotely plausible was a pair of the dark gray uniform pants. They might even be fine- it was the smallest size available. They were a little long on her, but all her height was through the torso. So…. Probably okay?

She held the options up for his perusal. "Can you stand to wear this for a few hours?" She held eye contact until he shrugged.

That was probably the best answer she was going to get, so she shepherded him into the bathroom. "Gaara, please use my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Oh, a clean washcloth, just a second…" She pulled her loofah out of the shower and tossed it in the sink. She found a threadbare pink washcloth in the second drawer, which would do. She held it out until Gaara unfolded his arms to take it from her.

His brow was furrowed.

'Does… He does know how to take a shower, right?' Aiko hovered a moment, unsure. 'He is nearly a feral kid. And from a city with severe water use restrictions. It's… it's pretty possible that he's never used a shower.'

Well then. She stepped into the shower area and glanced back to make sure she had his attention. "This dial adjusts the temperature. I have it at a heat I like, but you can move it to anything. I'll start the water-" she did just that. A gentle rumbling echoed out of the pipes. She took the showerhead off of the hook and angled it to show him the green button underneath. "When you want the water to spray, press this button to turn it on. Press it again to turn it off. When you're done, you can turn all the water off with this lever. If you don't remember, just leave it and I'll get it."

That… That felt pretty through. Could there be something else?

Um. Towels. She only had two, and one was still damp from her shower before bed. So she pulled the other off the rack and draped it within reach of the shower. "You can use this." Aiko pursed her lips. "I'll be in the front room, taking care of morning mail, breakfast, and starting a list of supplies we need for the house. If you think of anything, you can add it to the list once you're done. Please take your time- the rice won't be ready for 40 minutes anyway." She hovered, but that was it. Aiko ran a hand through her hair. "I'll see you when you're done."

Gaara took a slightly appalling hour in the shower, judging from when the water started to when it cut off, but she wasn't entirely certain he had actually taken a shower until he padded around the corner with soggy hair, wearing both of her shirts at once. They were soaked around the neckline.

She did not sigh. She got up, found a big, soft kitchen towel, and gestured him into the tiled room. He came, frowning slightly.

"I want to dry your hair, okay?"

Gaara looked as though he was considering commenting, but settled for a nod. It was just like when she'd hugged him: he started off stiff and aloof, and relaxed in bits and pieces until he was actually leaning his head back into the towel. It was with slight regret that Aiko finished and pulled the cloth away.

She managed to get him fed and tug him out the door within fifteen minutes. The workday was starting around them- genin and chuunin were reporting to the missions office, and scattered civilians were taking their bleary-eyed walks to the fishing docks or construction sites.

'The stores are not open at this hour.'

Aiko felt slightly stupid.

"It's earlier than I realized," Aiko eventually admitted.

Gaara probably thought that his reaction was subtle, but even in her peripheral she saw him steal a quick glance at her.

"Let's go to my office. It's still closer to the shopping areas, anyway."

When she walked in, chuunin scattered. Saito was presiding over the office staff as they began hauling the day's mission scrolls to the front desk. She gave Aiko only the briefest of glances, but a coltish genin hauling the enormous master binder of staff looked incredibly alarmed to see her.

'You'd think it would not be a surprise that the Mizukage is occasionally in the Mizukage's office.'

Sanbi huffed. "Very occasionally, as it were."

Dickhead. She had other things going on, alright?

She pressed her lips together sourly and walked past. The clock in her office claimed it was 6:34. When a frightfully thin genin with light brown hair brought in a tray with coffee at 6:39, Aiko was reading details on the construction report for the repaired bridge. She tried to make eye contact and smile, but the boy ducked his head and set the coffee on her desk as far from her as possible.

Gaara watched this happen, perfectly still on the straight-backed chair across from her desk.

Aiko resisted the urge to sigh. "Thank you," she said. "I need a few things. First off, let's add a cup of tea to my morning order whenever Gaara-kun comes with me to the office. Secondly, tell Saito-san that I'd like to locate a couch and a short table for the back wall, as soon as is reasonably possible. And when Mira-san comes in, she should have a list of medical personnel in the village. I want that list fleshed out with contact information and someone to guide me to each address on the list. I want to tour every clinic and hospital today, preferably before 3pm."

He repeated the orders silently back, mouth moving.

That was… well. A bit unusual, but okay. Aiko waited patiently.

The genin blinked rapidly and then nodded. "Yes." He tapped his fingers against the now-empty tray he'd brought her coffee on. 3 taps, 5 taps, 3 taps, and then he forcibly stilled his fingers. "Will that be all?"

"Yes." She managed a smile, because she was starting to suspect that his ticks had nothing to do with her. "Goodbye."

He left without further comment, which was oddly funny for a reason she couldn't put it in words.

Aiko shook it off and went back to her reading. Gaara had initially turned down all offers of entertainment, but after about an hour he drifted to look at the bookshelves on the wall. When she set down the last invoices for the dock materials, he was a good twenty pages into a book of Kirigakure's political history.

'I need to read that one,' Aiko remembered, slightly guiltily. She knew what Konohagakure cared to teach, but it probably wasn't the same or as detailed.

Ah well. It was nice to see the tension off of Gaara's face. He seemed more peaceful than she'd ever seen, with a boring book and the second teapot of the day set by his side.

He looked up and caught her smiling at him. Gaara frowned instinctively. But after a moment, he seemed to deliberately wipe the negativity off of his features and give her a nod.

She nodded back and then pulled out Mifune's letters again to reread them and implant the details into her memory. Then she drafted a letter to Konohagakure.

At 9, she took Gaara out for the basic supplies of clothes and toiletries and groceries. He was completely disinterested. She gave up on getting his approval for most things and simply picked out a combination of the practical and the whimsical. He didn't seem to have any interest in decorating his room, but it was just too bleak to leave without anything personal. It might have been too ambitious, but she had a small bookshelf and a miniature table added to the huge order to be brought to the house and assembled while she was at work. Hopefully he would find something he wanted to put on them… But just in case he didn't, she picked out a few potted plants of various sizes.

In mid-morning and the early afternoon, she spent her time touring small clinics and checked in on the main hospital. She took her masterlist of persons and places with her and made notes of impressions and facts after each encounter. She left swirling eddies of terrified and confused medical workers in her wake, but that couldn't really be helped. It was going to take time for the general populace to feel safe around a Mizukage. In the meantime, she had work to do.

They needed everything, frankly. They needed more doctors and nurses, they needed better training, more and better medicine, more and better facilities and equipment. The project would have to be approached in starts and stops, but it had to be started.

She called in the man whose half-remembered name started with "Yama" and had a meeting about the contents she needed him to draft in proposals and letters to Mifune. Gaara watched on with surprising engagement for a 12-year old. Granted, he was a 12 year old who would have become Kazekage by 14 in another world, so maybe she ought to be making a concerted effort towards furthering his education with the assumption that he had political ambitions. The meeting ended at 3, at which point she took the time for a good, long stretch and surreptitiously found out that her assistant's full name was 'Yamagi'.

'After lunch, I need to make a chart of my administrative personnel and make sure I know who is reporting to whom, so I can make any changes necessary and keep bad combinations apart.'

Oh. After lunch, huh. That should have been hours ago.

"I'm hungry," Aiko said, in a tone of realization. Had she… She looked at her ward guiltily. "Gaara, I forgot to feed you. Are you hungry?"

He gave her his full attention. "I am not a cat."

Well, yeah. She was aware of that. Cats could feed themselves.

'It's time for a break.'

Aiko stood up and laced her fingers over her head, reaching as far up as she could reach. She felt the stretch down her sides and shoulderblades. "Let's take the afternoon," she said. "A late lunch, and some kind of outing. There's a library I want to visit, and we could see a park, museum, go for a run or do some training- what do you like?"

Gaara just looked at her, as thought he had no idea what to do with this question.

She swallowed. "I'll pick lunch, and you can think on that while we eat." She crossed the room to pull open the door and call for her secretary. Mira-san came instead, holding what must be the finalized copies of mission reports from the first shift, ready for her notarization and pending filing.

Aiko felt oddly guilty for saying it, but- "I'll be out of the office for several hours. I'll return between 6 and 7."

"You have a meeting with Terumi-san at 6:30," Mira said sternly.

She gave the older woman a look, raising her left eyebrow. "I'm aware," Aiko said simply. She held out a hand. After a moment, Mira passed over the binder. "Thank you. That will be all."

She locked up the office from inside. Gaara watched, apparently disinterested. When she held out her hand to him, however, he grabbed it with enough force to turn her fingers white and that somehow turned into something that was almost a hug. Aiko smoothed down his hair with her free hand and did not comment on the desperate force with which he pressed his head into her collarbones. She had meant to hiraishin them away quickly, but she ended up just holding him until he started to lean his head away.

Aiko took them to Grass.

Gaara stepped away quickly in the sunshine, but he didn't pull his hand free. So she kept hold of it. They walked down the city streets of an area she was only passingly familiar with until they found a cafe that looked half-decent. Aiko picked a soup, salad, and sandwich meal with coffee, but Gaara seemed more comfortable with more traditional, home-styled offerings. He ate all his tsukemono- he liked sour and bitter flavors, then?- and the soup and broiled fish, but he left a good portion of his rice.

The libraries in Grass's civilian capital were impressive stone buildings, haughty and dark against the skyline. Gaara drifted along behind her while she collected a few things from the architectural college's library, one tome from the medical college's building, and then finally perked up when she went to the general library. She glanced down at him, fussing with the canvas strap of her bag. It was digging into her shoulder from the weight of the books inside, but she could fit a few more things.

"Anything you want," Aiko promised lightly. "I'll be at that table reading. Why don't you have a look around? Pick at least one book out. You can take more, but I'll be coming back next week. So you can always get something else then."

True to her word, she set to reading in the enforced quiet of the public areas and let him explore without her hovering or guiding. He didn't go far, which was a little saddening, but it did make it easier to keep an eye on him until she got too immersed into what she was reading about foundations and frames.

'I should have listened to Yamato more,' she regretted. 'Over the years, he's told me a lot offhand. I wouldn't be starting off with so little understanding if I'd paid attention.'

She definitely couldn't ask him now- not about architecture in general, and certainly not for clues about how to improve and use her Mokuton. Obito had been right that she could use it, and with a lot more stamina than Yamato. But her control was just sad. She needed a lot of practice, and she needed a lot more understanding of what she should be trying to do.

Pursuing it as a side project was the best solution. Using Mokuton would drastically increase speed and decrease costs associated with importing materials and skilled labor. There was minimal danger in commissioning Yamato for many of the building projects. But some things were in areas where he couldn't be trusted, or would need to have secret floor plans, and definitely couldn't afford to have any of the deliberate weakness that he might be tempted to plant.

She knew Yamato. He was not going to rig an orphanage or footbridge to fall. But he would sabotage government buildings, and bring back information about important locations of food and water supplies, of electrical lines and other such infrastructural weak points.

Gaara was sitting beside her with a closed book on the table in front of him when she looked up. She checked her watch compulsively- 5:30.

They still had some time, then. She tapped her fingers on the table and smiled at him. "Is there anything you want to do?" She held out her hand for his book, intending to put it with hers.

Gaara put his hand on it and slid it away from her. His bony hand covered the title protectively.

Aiko blinked. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to take your things. I just thought I'd carry it for you."

He looked at her heavy canvas bag and then away. Stubborn baby.

"Let's get you your own book bag," Aiko decided. She stood up and headed for the checkout counter, relieved that he followed. "And then?"

She didn't actually expect him to answer. So it was surprisingly thrilling to hear him say, "What kind of museum?"

They used her forged library card to check out all the books like the criminal she was, found him a dark blue bag in a store meant for the university students, and then used their remaining half an hour in a museum detailing the history of the local castle and the series of clans who had inhabited it. She thought Gaara might actually want to see the castle- she promised him that they would do that when they returned the next week.

There wasn't, like, an official tour or anything. The castle was still inhabited. But they were shinobi, they could break in.

'Or I guess I could request it, as the Mizukage?' she vaguely considered. Probably not. That would complicate things. Sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. It was best to just be so sneaky that no one would know they'd been by.

Her office was just as she'd left it, but when she unlocked the door, she found a couch in the hallway immediately outside. Aiko poked her head out and looked around- there were some other small additions further down: a table, a vase with flowers, a lamp, some small pillows. Huh. That was good service. When she began hauling items in, Gaara assisted without comment. She was walking backwards with one end of the couch when Mei entered the area. The older woman raised an eyebrow, but she swooped in to help Gaara without comment.

"Good evening, Mizukage-sama," Mei said. "May I be of further assistance?"

Aiko walked past to grab the lamp and set it on the table. Gaara was already putting the pillows on the couch. "No," she said, belatedly. "I don't think so." She paused. "Ah, did you submit a request for refreshments on your way in?"

"No. I will do so immediately. Coffee, and…." Mei let her voice trail off, looking at Gaara implacably.

He looked at Aiko. She nodded, trying to prompt him to speak for himself.

"Water will be fine," he said.

She resisted the urge to tell him he was doing a very good job. He probably wouldn't respond well to that. Instead, she just nodded and dithered for a moment over where she should sit. She'd like to sit with Gaara on the couch, but… that seemed more appropriate for less relaxed times. This was an informal meeting with Mei, but Mei was not her friend.

Aiko sat behind her desk and gestured Gaara to the couch so that Mei could take the seating he'd been haunting all day.

When Mei returned, she expressed no more curiosity about Gaara than she'd demonstrated last night, at their longer discussion at Aiko's home. At first, Aiko noticed Gaara listening intently to their conversation. But it was truly boring stuff- dossiers on possible diplomats, information of Hunter-nin and Black-Ops procedural minutia- and after a while he began alternating between his library book and taking neat, deliberate notes on a pad of office paper. She needed to get him notebooks, then.

After Mei left, Aiko took the piles of paperwork with her to the couch and did her reading and stamping there. Mira-san had gone home, as well as most of the day staff. But one of the skeleton crew waiting for the last mission reports of the day trotted in and out, bearing coffee and water and tea. When asked, they went out and returned with steaming curry for dinner. She and Gaara ate there, as the sun went down and drafts of various letters and proposals were sent in for Aiko's approval at the end of the office day. Before 8, all of her in-going correspondence had been dealt with, reports read, requests for the following day filed, and the changes to her schedule approved. She led Gaara out past the front desk as security came by to lock the building for the night.

It was dark. Like, really dark. The city lights weren't on yet- it hadn't been prioritized. But there were some lanterns burning in attempts to entice customers into the few restaurants open, and ambient noise that kept the city from being too creepily empty.

At home, it was something of a relief to see that the genin team she'd had take her things home had done a nice job with putting away groceries and filling up Gaara's bedroom and adding his toiletries to the bathroom. Someone had even added some things of their own volition- she'd need to find out who was responsible for realizing she was out of floss and replacing it. That was thorough and thoughtful.

'I wonder what dad is doing in Konoha.' She curled up on a cushion in front of the in-ground firepit without lighting it. 'The Sandaime can't possibly trust him yet. Will he reach out to Naruto right away?'

Would Naruto even deal well with that? Would-

"However interesting those troubles, you do not have the leisure time to struggle with them. You have many fascinating problems of your own. Shall I list them?"

'You're a mediocre and mean turtle.'

There wasn't much heat in the insult, because he was right. She needed to remember that she served Kirigakure's people, not Konoha's. She didn't have to be cruel, but she couldn't waste away resources and energy that her people needed.

"Gaara," she managed. She didn't have to look over to know he was paying attention. "Do you have any ideas about what you would like to do? You don't have to do any kind of shinobi work for us- it's probably inadvisable unless you decide you don't want to return to Suna at all. But you should probably be contributing while you're staying here. It sort of looks like nepotism if I have everyone but my kid helping out, you know?"

It took nearly a minute for Gaara to decide to come closer. Aiko reflected that he walked like a cat: near silent, and with an aloofness that said his chosen path had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else who might be in the room.

"Apprentice," he said.

Aiko actually turned to look at him so he could fully appreciate the way she was contorting her face. She didn't know what emotion it was conveying, but it was definitely moving in an interesting way. "I would like clarification."

"I'm going back to Suna." Gaara's lip curled, and teeth peered out. "Eventually."

She waited.

He seemed to think that was enough.

It was not enough. "That's your choice," Aiko said as patiently as she could manage. "Weird, but okay. Who are you apprenticing to and why? Or are you asking for an apprentice?"

"You." The word was spat out, to get it out of the way as quickly as possible. "You're like me, but they listen to you. I need to be able to do that as well. Show me how to make them respect me. I'm the only one Sunagakure has who is strong enough to lead."

She leaned back on her cushion and braced her weight on her palms. "That sounds like the opposite of what I asked for," Aiko countered. "I asked how you might contribute to Kirigakure, you're saying that you want a lot of my time and attention." She shook her head, feeling the weight of her hair swaying behind her. "Make it worth my while, and we can talk."

Gaara crossed his stick-thin, anemic arms, ad tried to look tall. "Kirigakure will benefit from competent leadership in Sunagakure."

"Probably. How can you know you'll be a competent leader?"

He scoffed. "Is it your teaching abilities that you doubt, or my capacity for learning?"

"I doubt a lot of things," Aiko rebuffed. "The time and attention I can dedicate to your education, your emotional capacity to bond with civilians, the likelihood that Sunagakure's citizens are going to react as Kirigakure's have, and yes, my ability to teach you to govern given that I have a style you are not suited to, and I'm making shit up as I go." She paused. "Constantly," Aiko stressed. "I don't know what I'm doing. I can't teach you how to manage a city because I'm still learning. I encounter a problem, I seek out information and attempt to predict future problems and work to preempt them. I can teach you how I think and problem-solve, but I can't teach you how to do that job."

"My current skill-set is killing people," Gaara said flatly. "Whatever you have to teach me can't make me worse."

That was just untrue, but sort of sweet in naivety. "I could teach you about-" Aiko stopped, remembered how young Gaara was, and frowned. "There's a lot I can't teach you about. But fine. I'll consider your proposal with a trial period." She pulled her hands onto her lap and leaned forward. "You work for me, now."

"How long is this trial period?" Gaara asked.

She tilted her jaw up. "As long as it needs to be."

"That's not good enough." He was turning a bit red, pupils dilating in the darkness. "I can't be away from Sunagakure indefinitely, nor can they mistakenly think me a traitor."

They held eye contact. Aiko kept waiting for him to turn away or change expression, to either back down or become aggressive. But he just matched her stare.

She cracked a smile. "Fair enough." She gave him a half-bow. "It's a deal, then. I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I will either accept or reject you as an apprentice within a month."

He took a moment and then bowed uncertainly. "Uzumaki-shishou?" Gaara asked. "Aiko-sama?"

Both of those were weird and markedly more responsible and adult-sounding than she felt, but one was significantly less weird to hear. "Aiko-sama," she confirmed. Ugh. So weird. "We are both going to be learning on our feet, Gaara. Tomorrow I want you to accompany and assist an architectural specialist. I think that your sand could be very useful for his construction project. Demonstrate your abilities, learn from him. I'll expect you in my office at 4pm for a detailed report of his thoughts and what you've understood." She stretched. "I'll have someone take you to him at 8 tomorrow morning. Be ready to take direction."

If she'd told that to Sasuke at that age, she would have gotten a sneer. Naruto? Whining. But Gaara only nodded.

It was a little unnerving. But she went about her night as if she wasn't bothered by the compliance. She answered some letters, sent an updated set of orders to the third border post with a courier, and showered before bed. Even in the hot water, she couldn't relax. Eventually she gave up and wrapped her towel around her body and laid on top of her sheets. The damp towel and her sopping her made her cold and uncomfortable.

"I really should hang this towel up so that it dries," Aiko said to herself. But she couldn't find the energy to move, even to unwrap the towel and push it off the bed. Whatever. She closed her eyes, dreading everything. She let the Rinnegan sleep.

Some of the tenseness in her neck washed away with the sinus pain she hadn't exactly noticed building over the course of the day. She stared bleakly into the darkness for a while. There was a pressure in her chest. It wasn't like something sitting on her body. It was like there was something small and hard pushing outwards inside of her breastbone, trying to open up a space to contain… something. Anything.

It was difficult to muster the give-a-damn to finish getting ready for bed, when her body felt so heavy and tired. Eventually, she contorted enough to reach her fingers along the wall along her head and flip off the lights. It was hard to know how long it took for her to fall asleep.

[rubykgrant]

(a little bit of the conclusion for Grif and Simmons going on an actual date, because I had a lot of fun with Kai here! warning for swear words and mentions of some mature activity previously happening I guess, but this is mostly just silly~)

After looking in the fridge, Simmons told Grif he’d get them something to eat and drink, so Grif walked into the living room to wait, flopping down on the couch. After just a few moments of quiet, the door suddenly slammed open.

“What’s up bitches, I’m home!” Kai loudly called out her greeting, and bounced her way into the apartment.

“Welcome back,” Simmons replied to her from the kitchen. “Where are the others?”

“Oh, Doc went to join Donut ‘n Wash ‘n Caboose at the museum, and the others went to the yee-haw thing. I think they want to make fun of Church in the cowboy hat Tex got for him. So, Romeo! Where for art is my bro?” Kai walked over and leaned against Simmons as he got some food together.

“Pfff, he’s over on the couch,” Simmons chuckled, tilting his head in that direction. Grif raised one hand up from where he was lounging, so she could see it above the back of the couch. Kai bounced over there now, jumping up over the back, so she could land beside her brother on the cushions.

“Hi, Dex! How was the date?” She asked him, grinning.

“Good,” he answered, sprawled out comfortably on the couch.

“That’s all you have to say? Good? After everything I went through, making sure you morons had an enchanting evening!” Kai smacked at her brothers knees, but he looked completely unbothered by her antics. “Did anybody ever give ME a romantic night like this? Fuck, no! You would always lie to my dates, trying to scare them! You used to say some bull-shit about how you just escaped from prison, or you got bit by a werewolf and then got bit by a vampire so you were a turbo-monster, OR you personally knew the NINJA TURTLES and would tell them to beat-up anybody who didn’t have me home on time! Do you remember that, Dexter?”

“… w’ssat?” Grif said after a long pause. Jeez, he seemed totally distracted. No, more than that; it was like he had gelatin in his head instead of brains. True, her brother could be a total space-cadet sometimes, but this was a whole other level. Not only was he not paying attention to ANYTHING, he had a dreamy look on his face…

“Dude, are you high right now?” Kai asked. Not a bad thing if he was, but he better hide his stash before Donut got home.

“No~” he snorted laughter. In the kitchen, Kai could hear Simmons laugh as well.

Kai took a closer look at Dexter; he was zoned-out, and the epitome of relaxed. Again, hardly unusual, he was just like that. Still, something was different. It was almost like he was drunk, and all his thoughts were one big blur. Clearly in a very good mood. Sort of… serene, but in a goofy way. He sounded all fluttery and cheerful, but calm. What else? She felt like it should be obvious…

“OH MY GOD!” she cried out suddenly. Her brother just kept smiling at her, confused by her outburst, but not concerned in the slightest.

“What’s wrong?” Simmons asked, coming over to stand by the couch.

Kai looked him up and down; his long hair was loose, out of the ponytail. He looked like he had just showered. In fact, so did her brother. Simmons was a little more focused and coherent, but he had this vague aura of satisfaction and fulfillment… a bit like a glow. An afterglow. Both of them looked like they were recovering from being totally blissed-out.

“YOU!” Kai pointed an accusatory finger at Simmons. Grif continued to giggle, though he was beginning to catch on to Kai’s train of thought.

“What?” Simmons was still lagging behind.

“YOU FUCKED MY BROTHER SILLY!”

Grif’s giggles turned into a shrill scream combined with strangled and choked laughter. He turned slightly on the couch, burying his face in a pillow (he couldn’t deal with the whole concept of his sister talking about him, his boyfriend, and fucking in the same sentence). Simmons looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He was almost too surprised to be flustered (almost). Dozens of responses and excuses tried to take form in his head, some of them outrageous lies and denials beyond reason. Then something Grif said earlier caught in his mind.

“Technically, we didn’t fuck. Your brother just happens to like how handsy I am. Don’t be such a prude, Kai…”

Her jaw dropped. Grif howled with laughter as he rolled all the way off the couch, falling to the floor with a thud. Simmons cleared his throat, and attempted to keep his cool.

“Grif, I made us some tea and got some of that poundcake, and also a bowl of strawberries and apple slices. I’m taking it back to our room, if you want some…”  he spoke in a forced, overly-serious robotic tone. With that, Simmons turned and walked away. Grif crawled across the floor around the couch, before finally getting to his feet and stumbling after Simmons.

“Prude? PRUDE? YOU are calling ME a PRUDE!?” Kai slammed her hands down on the back of the couch. “I am NOT a PRUDE, are you kidding!? I am the LEAST prudish person who has ever existed! I AM THE QUEEN OF ALL SLUTS! DO YOU HEAR ME!? THE SLUT QUEEN!!!”

“GOOD NIGHT, KAI! THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP EARLIER! WE LOVE YOU!” Simmons yelled back. His voice finally cracked from nerves, and he shut the door before he started apologizing or trying to over-explain the situation (as if it wasn’t glaringly obvious and simple). Kai’s rant came to an abrupt end; it wasn’t fair, Simmons throwing around ‘thank-you’ and ‘I-love-you’ when she wanted to defend her honor. He really had turned into another brother, using emotional manipulation like that.

Back in the room, Grif fell onto Simmons’ bed, gasping for air. He didn’t know if he was more humiliated after getting caught after-the-act by his LITTLE SISTER, or more proud and amused with Simmons. Damn, Kai was right… he felt so silly right now. Maybe tomorrow he could be serious, but not yet. He was still on cloud-9, and had spent the whole day having fun with Simmons. He was too happy, and too silly.

Because Grif was stretched out on the bed, Simmons sat down on the edge, with Grif’s belly against his back. Grif snuggled closer, curved slightly so he could look up at the side of Simmons’ face.

“I can’t believe you said that to my sister…”

“Well, neither can I. But was I wrong?” Simmons held a strawberry out for Grif, who was now entirely too charmed by the idea of Simmons feeding him berries in bed to be concerned about anything else. They ate the fruit and poundcake, then drank down their tea. Grif got up one last time to brush his teeth with Simmons, who left him for a moment to put the wet bedding into the dryer, and then returned to see Grif was putting some new sheets and blankets on the bed. He said nothing, but smiled approvingly, and Grif just shrugged, as if this wasn’t the first time he had ever made a bed without excessive nagging.

[angry-princess-nightshade]

Voices Pt.3 [Sunset Silhouettes]

So sorry for the delay. This chapter needed some extra love to be ready for you guys. Hopefully you enjoy Voices 3, Sunset Silhouettes!

The One and Only, Princess Nightshade :]

______________________________________________________________

Jay (POV)

I suck in a deep breath of the cool spring air. Running my hands over the smooth, chilled rooftop of the Monastery. No denying it. Today is a great day. The sun shone brightly all day as the last traces of that harsh, cold winter were brushed away like autumn leaves in a breeze.

The very same sun is beginning to set right now. The sky turning into gentle hues of pink and red. Like spilled paints. I let the scene burn into my memory. Like a picture of this exact moment. Reminding myself of the peace. Being a ninja, you don’t often get days like this. But crime has been slow lightly, and I guess that's a good thing.

Let’s see. What did I do today? I trained. Making sure I’m still the super awesome Lightning Ninja. Played video games with Kai and Lloyd. Ya know, always a good time to see Kai rage quit. Performed some regular maintenance on Zane, along with a few of my own personal inventions. Daydreamed with Nya about our future together. Always lovely, spending time with her. I’ve talked with everyone today! Just as planned!

No, wait. Not everyone. I haven’t hung out with Cole. How could I count my day as complete without talking to my best friend? He should be the first person I hang out with. Just behind Nya, of course.

In all honesty, Cole is easy to forget about sometimes. And I really, truely, hate saying that about him. But it’s true. He never asks for anything, content with letting himself fade into the background. I try. I really try to make time to talk with him. Especially after that one Day of the Departed. But, it's tough. Being a ninja, we have so much going on in our lives. I forget about him more than I want to admit. He has something about him that just makes him slip everyone’s mind.

I get up from where I’m seated on the rooftop. Time to go fix all that. I head over to the of the rooftop, only to jump as it suddenly opens without warning.

“Oh, Nya! It’s just you!” I say, thrilled to bits that it was just my girlfriend and not some burglar. She climbs up onto the rooftop. Slightly damp from melting snow.

“Hey Jay, have you seen Cole anywhere?” She asked, the slightest hint of worry laced in her sweet voice.

“I was just about to ask you that.” I said, sharing the concern.

“Not since this morning.” She said. Now slightly panicked, we make our way back down the ladder to the main level of the Monastery. The smell of Zane’s cooking danced through the air. We walked into the main living room. Kai sat down on one of the two couches we have. Looking laid back as ever, scrolling through Chriper on his phone lazily.

The complete opposite sat beside him. Lloyd had his phone pressed closely to his ear, nervously looking out the window. The other hand drummed his fingers impatiently. All the while being in the middle of a conversation with Kai.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Lloyd.” Kai said, sounding completely over it. As always.

“But what if something happened to him! We haven’t seen him since training this morning!” Lloyd said, eyes not breaking away from the window for even a second. Probably looking for any signs of Cole. I hear his phone go to voicemail. He throws it away on the couch. “God, why won’t he pick up?!”

“Lloyd, this is Cole we’re talking about.” Kai piped up. “He can take care of himself.”

“You don’t know that!” Lloyd cried.

“Lloyd’s right, Kai.” Nya chimed in. “He’s been gone since this morning! Is that not a reason to be worried about him! Look at the time! It’s almost dark out!”

“Look. You two are being ridiculous.” Kai said. Finally putting his phone away. “If he’s not back by the time dinner is over, then you have me worried. But for now, leave it be! You know how Cole is.”

He’s right. I do know how Cole is. Cole likes to hide. He needs his alone time to stay sane. And as much as we joke about that, I do know how important it is for him to recharge that way.

“Dinner is ready.” We hear a sure, polite call from the kitchen. Calling us to the meal that Zane always lovingly prepares each night.

As everyone leaves towards the dining room, I gaze out the window one last time. Part of me prayed to see Cole’s silhouette in the setting sun. Coming back home just in time for dinner. Coming back home to us.

Nothing’s there. Nothing at all.

______________________________________________________________

Cole (POV)

I wake up in a haze. My sense of time seems to have disappeared entirely. What happened? When did I fall asleep? It couldn’t have been that long ago, right?

I keep my eyes closed. I feel a gentle breeze on my skin. I feel, what I think, are blades of grass, softly brushing against my cheek. It would all be so perfect. So peaceful. If it weren’t for the throbbing, pounding headache ringing in my skull. Oh so painfully present. Something that I want to run away from. But know that I can’t.

I slowly peel my eyes open. The soft light all but invaded my vision. I steadily sit up, trying hard to ignore the pain in my head.

Strangely, I feel more disconnected from my senses. All I hear from the birds are muffled chips. Like I’m pressing my ears into a pillow. The scents of the forest should be stronger, but they smell like one of those crappy air fresheners you see at gas stations. The sunlight, which was far brighter at first, now feels distant and far away.

The only thing that I can feel loud and clear is the headache splitting my skull open.

Speaking of which, the forest. How did I get here? The last thing I remember is being inside some building, not outside in the clearing. Wait, where am I? I’ve never been in this part of the woods before.

I shakingly make my way to a standing position. I can’t see the path. I can’t see it. All I see are overgrown bramble bushes obscuring anything that might be behind them. The church is long gone. I don’t remember moving. How did I get here?!

Without thinking, I race into one of the bramble bushes. Thorns bite at me. Leaving small cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. I finally, FINALLY, spot the path just ahead of me. I get on it, and begin my slow trek out of the forest.

______________________________________________________________

And, end scene. Hope you all enjoyed Episode 3 of Voices.

Just a question. Are any of you all Dream SMP fans? If so, are you caught up in Ranboo's lore? Just here to say that some of the traits are very Ranboo lore like. This story is about to take a turn and I got a lot of inspiration for this story from Ranboo lore and just Minecraft in general.

Again, sorry for the wait. I wish you all the best. Stay safe!

-Princess Nightshade

[triscribe]

Ninja Kitty is Watching You.

[imaginativeamateur]

Hey! Congrats on 200 followers! 🎊 you totally deserve it!! I was wondering if you could do a kakashi x fem!reader with 6 in which the reader is a med ninja and are overworking! THANK YOU!!!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] A Medic's Greatest Fear

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 6 — "You’re not coming home tonight?"

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Hello, I'm back after quite a few days being so inactive :DD Thanks for your request, love. I legit spent so much time... changing the plot :DD This version is very different from the first one that I wrote lol. It's a bit angsty but ends with a fluff note, though. Hope you'll enjoy!

You have been busying yourself with operation after operation. You were not in a good mood recently after you got into a fight with Kakashi, and he then left for a mission. Time fleeted, and the next time you glanced at the clock, it was already eight in the evening. Just when you were packing up to leave the hospital at the end of your shift, a nurse rushed to your office with a bewildered expression on her face.

“Y/N-san,” she stopped to catch a breath, “there are three injured Shinobi.”

“ANBU?” You questioned, immediately dropping your tote to the desk.

“It’s… you should go see for yourself,” she stammered out. There was hesitation in her voice as she spoke, and you felt uneasiness seeping into the pit of your stomach.

You rushed to the reception and spotted a sight that you never wanted to see. Your heart throbbed as the hospital staff rolled a silver-haired onto a stretcher and pushed him into the operation unit. You lost the balance on your feet, if it was not for the nurse to help you stabilize your stance, you would have fallen onto the ground. There was only one person that you could recall having the very hair color in the whole Konoha—Kakashi Hatake.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse as you tumbled to the reception table.

“They were ambushed,” the staff stated with a monotone and started to register their information on the computer, “Hatake’s injuries, though, are more serious.”

“Who are on call right now?”

The woman at the desk took a glance at you, quietly signaling you to calm down before she continued to speak, “One surgeon and one assistant as for Hatake. Two Medics are tending the other three.”

Your stomach flipped, “I’m going in with them.”

You spared not even a second after you gave her a verbal note to follow their trail. You bit down on your lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing your love edging on the thin line between life and death brought tears to your eyes. You greatly regretted the venomous words you exchanged with him before Kakashi left for his mission. You did not mean them to the slightest degree, you did not mean to tell him to stop interfering with your business, you did not mean to call him intrusive and that you hated him for being like that. The silver-haired stopped quarreling almost immediately after you lashed out and closed the door behind his back. You could clearly visualize the distress and sorrow wavering in his eyes when he left, so clearly that it stabbed you in the heart. If only you could go back to that very day…

For the whole duration of the operation, you focused every single cell of your body on the task, straining every muscle to perform meticulous work. But you did not dare to look up at his face. A cursory glance already enabled you to see how pale his skin was. The thin layer of sweat that coated his forehead shook you to the core that you had to instantly glance away. Kakashi was in pain, and you knew that better than anyone, being the person invading his system with your own chakra to heal the damaged organs. The wounds littered across his body were deep cuts, and you winced as your palms moved across his battered body.

At last, it was finally over and he was now bandaged in white cloth, sleeping soundly on the bed. Fearing that the stiff hospital bed would tire his back, you went ahead and took off your sweater and laid an extra layer for him to lie on, leaving you in your thin blouse. It was the end of autumn in Konoha and nights were cooler, but you paid no mind to the skin of your forearms prickling with goosebumps when you moved to close the window. All of your attention was now focused on the resting Shinobi, watching his chest rising and falling with every breath, his brows forming the slightest pinch in his sleep.

You drifted your gaze farther away, thinking of what to say once he would be up. Just then, you head Kakashi mumble, “You’re not coming home tonight?”

You quickly directed your eyes back to check on him, but the silver-haired was still snoring softly under the blanket—he worried about you even when he just merely got his life back from the hands of Hades. And it made you even more upset with yourself. You were totally at fault. He was only concerned about you and your health when you were working days straight without rest at the hospital. He respected your work but was more or less disagreed with how careless you were with your own wellbeing.

With great attention, you reached both hands out toward him and glided your fingers across his cheeks, blinking furiously to prevent tears from strolling down your face. You gently placed a kiss on the shallow crease between his brows as though you were trying to alleviate the pain that he was enduring, “I’m sorry, Kashi. I’m sorry.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was an assurance that he was cradling you to bed like every night. Shuddering, you shifted closer to his body to shield yourself away from the blows that managed to seep through the crack between the door and the freezing tiles. Nights at the hospital were always cold with you drifting in and out of sleep in between calls to duty. But tonight was different when he was with you, you felt at peace.

The morning came and Kakashi was wide awake before the first rays even shone through the glass window. But he did not move a muscle, letting you splay your hands across his chest and hug him with all you might. A frown sat on his lips when he noticed the eyebags underneath your heavily closed lids. Your breathing was ragged as your lips opened and sealed several times, mouthing broken sobs of his name. Kakashi slightly shook your shoulders and you shot up from your position, eyes wide after pulling yourself out of the terrifying nightmare.

“Kakashi,” you burst out and jumped out of the wooden chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Kakashi!”

“I’m alright, Y/N,” he embraced you and swayed your bodies back and forth, “I’m here.”

After a while, you pulled away, timidly gazing at your hands like a child at fault, “I’m sorry for the stupid argument. I was wrong for saying such things. I promise not to overwork myself again.”

“I’m sorry too, love,” he stroked your hair, “I shouldn’t raise my voice at you. You know I love you, right? That’s why I didn’t want to see you harming yourself in the first place. It’s necessary to take a break when you’re tired. And just know that I’m always here for you.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @rinnegankakashi @tirzamisu

[cherrydreamer]

Just been thinking about Billy and Steve with a kid they adopted, a little boy whose other placements never worked out because he was (in the previous families' words) 'a handful', 'a bit much for us', 'a fucking feral brat' and that catch-all term of 'just not a good fit for our family'.

But Billy and Steve never took the slightest bit of notice of what anyone else had to say. And sure, it's not always easy, but they never expected it to be because often the best things aren’t, not to start with. And between them, they find ways of making it all work.

They learn pretty early on that sometimes their kid is just vibrating with a need to move. To spin on the spot and jump on the couch and dart about from room to room until all his 'buzzy feelings' disappear. So Steve starts his early morning runs again, this time with a pint-sized shadow in Ninja Turtle sneakers at his heels, and he rigs up a basketball hoop above the garage. It's intended as an outlet for their son, but it soon brings back that high-school competitive streak, only this time instead of 'plant your feet' it's 'if you miss this, you're on dish duty for a week, Bills and you know how many bowls I use when I make brownies'. And this time, instead of Tommy jeering or the Coach yelling, there’s a happy little boy whooping and cheering for his Dads and being lifted onto their shoulders to dunk the final ball before they all head in to wash up for dinner. 

After a few months, they also learn that sometimes their son gets angry. Really angry. That sometimes he fills with sudden rushes of rage and frustration when he can't quite get his words out, or when he doesn't feel heard or in control, and that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. How it burns inside him, a big monster filling him up with ‘red red red’ until he yells and screams and lashes out. So Steve and Billy both try to learn, through a lot of trial and error, how best to talk to him and help him to express himself without resorting to using his fists. But Billy knows that sometimes you can't just 'talk' the anger out. That sometimes you need to hit and yell until it all goes away.

Which is why Billy comes home one day with a drum kit packed in the back of his minivan. He drags it out, ignoring Steve's panicked expression and his whispered concerns about the neighbours. Instead Billy focuses on their son's big, eager eyes and the way he's already bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. And even Steve can’t help but grin when the kid literally squeals with joy as Billy hands him the drumsticks.

And ok, it’s noisy. It’s loud. It’s a fucking mess of sound with no rhythm, Not yet. But Billy’s got the number of a local teen who’s offering lessons, and he’s got a small stack of CDs and an even bigger stack of tapes that he can’t wait to introduce his son to once he’s mastered the basics, and he knows that Steve’s got an old guitar up in the attic, just waiting to be dusted off. And now he’s got a son who’s smiling. Who’s grinning. Who’s whooping and yelling in excitement as he fills the garage with noise. And he’s got Steve, who’s dancing like the dorkiest dad ever, bopping his head and trying to tap his feet to the absolute lack of a beat and even doing a little fist pump in the air every time the cymbals crash.  And, god, it’s chaotic. It’s a mess. And yeah, his ears are going to be ringing all night now. But it’s worth it. Because they’re a family. Not an easy fit, maybe, not at first. But a good one. The best one. A happy one.

[weekend-whip]

Lloyd + U

U. Coming Home (Movie!verse)

(Send me a letter and a character and I’ll write a small fic!)

Ao3 Version

. . .

Lloyd holds his breath as he carefully pushes open the door to his apartment. His footsteps are as silent as a ninja, slipping off his shoes and sneaking into the living room. He hears his mom on the phone in the kitchen, and he doesn’t want to startle her, especially with how aggressively she’s telling off their downstairs neighbor right now. And sadly, this is already the fourth time this week this has happened, in some capacity.

It’s not his fault his dad is being particularly annoying this week, what with his constant Shark Attacks and incessant heckling and several hundred thousand missiles that struck the Dragon Mech in just the wrong way landing him in the jungle and forcing him to walk all the way back because the others were busy keeping General Olivia’s forces out of Downtown, BUT—

...but, he’s not bitter. 

In any case, Koko hasn’t noticed him yet, so Lloyd continues his stealthy pursuit towards his room. There’s no way he’s going to get out of a scolding this time around, so he thinks it might be best to retreat and come up with a counter offense. All his other tried and true excuses...are probably going to fail him tonight.

But she’s always been ridiculously—and suspiciously—perceptive, so when Lloyd tries to round the corner towards his room, Koko’s head whips over her shoulder and her gaze pierces through him like a thrown knife. Her eyes are wide with shock, worry, and a little bit of natural Mom-Fury, so Lloyd flashes his best sheepish grin and gives her a wave.

“Heeeeey, Mom.”

“...he’s home,” Koko grits into the phone. “Yes, yep, thanks again. Goodbye.”

Koko hangs up the phone—Lloyd nearly breaks into a sprint, but the holler of his name from his mother makes him immediately stop in his tracks. 

“...this is the fourth time this week, young man.” Her voice is clipped, cutting off what is surely a torrent of anger, but all washed away from sheer relief alone. The twitch of her eyebrow indicates annoyance, but her eyes are too soft to truly be upset. “If you’re going to be late coming home that’s fine, but...just give me a heads up! That’s all you have to do! We’ve discussed this!”

And yet, that’s kind of hard to do when you’re in the middle of the jungle with no cell reception. And then your phone dies on the walk back (totally not because he’d been blasting his music to drown out the persistent company of his own thoughts. Not related at all). 

“You are absolutely right, Mom!” Lloyd declares, reaching over to put an agreeing hand on her shoulder. Her stare could cut through diamond right now. “I-I just got so caught up in what I was doing that it slipped my mind!”

Koko’s head tilts, expression going dark. 

“And what, exactly, were you doing?”

Lloyd gulps, putting himself in a place right where he doesn’t want to be. His hand tenses where it rests upon Koko’s shoulder.

“I-I, um...I was...with Uncle Wu.”

Well, at least that one’s not entirely a lie. 

“...oh.”

She lightens up the slightest bit—thank goodness, Lloyd thinks as his heart threatens to break his chest—but there’s still a trace of something left behind. Something concerning, something sad...maybe something a little bit understanding.

“Why...were you with your Uncle?” Koko’s not looking at Lloyd anymore, instead gazing out the window. “I wouldn’t have minded if you just aid so, but...did he...tell you anything?”

Lloyd squirms. He has no idea what she could even possibly be referring to–the ninja thing? the elemental thing? the fact that he’s never personally seen his mom and his uncle in the same room at the same time??—but to say no would also probably give up his budding web of lies at this point. 

“He...I...I just asked him what Dad was like before...before the, uh, you know...whole Warlord thing. You...never seemed to want to talk about it, so I thought...Uncle Wu might be able to help.”

Lloyd grips the edge of his hoodie, frowning. Uncle Wu is twice as cryptic as his mother, unfortunately. 

“I just...wanted to do something to try and understand why Dad does what he does, that’s all.”

And, to Lloyd’s surprise, that one’s not a lie either. 

“...oh, honey,” Koko sighs, dropping her furious facade as she crouches to hug her son. Lloyd sniffles a bit, eyes shimmering as he returns the gesture. “If I...truly had the answer to that question, I would’ve given whatever it takes to stop him myself. Even if I had to fight him with nothing but my bare hands.”

Lloyd would love to see that fight. The idea of his mother going after her husband of Lord Garmadon with, like, a frying pan or a rolled up newspaper like he’s some annoying mosquito is almost too funny to keep to himself. 

“...so, actually, now that I think about it...why aren’t you, like, his warlady Shark Queen or something...? I feel like that’s something he would’ve gotten a kick out of.”

Koko snorts, shaking her head fondly. “Oh, he certainly tried, I’ll give him that.”

Her smile settles into something softer, burying her face in Lloyd’s hair. She hugs him as tightly as she can possibly manage. 

“But I don’t need the whole world to feel like I have everything.” Koko pulls back, kissing Lloyd on the forehead. “Not as long as I have you.”

Her loving look vanishes as she returns to her full height, eyes on the verge of pure desperation. 

“...which is exactly why it stresses me out so much when you get home so late!”

Exasperation returned in full force, Lloyd braces for the full impact of her wrath, verbal or otherwise...but it never comes.

She just stands there, shoulders sagged in a semblance of defeat, as she fights with herself to not cry.

“I told you, I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you...and I’m sorry, if I’ve ever made you feel like you can’t be fully open with me...but, if nothing else...could you promise me one thing?”

“Mom, wait, you haven’t—” Lloyd tries to interrupt, but Koko puts up a hand to stop him. She lifts her head, not quite pleased, but not entirely disappointed either. 

“Just promise me...you won’t forget you can always come home, no matter what, all right?”

Lloyd releases a sigh of great relief, and Koko, too, finds her smile again in light of Lloyd’s renewed spirits. He sprints right for his mom to hug her all over again. How could she ever think he wouldn’t want to return to this? 

“Of course, Mom. You didn’t even have to ask.”

[dontrollthedicesideblog]

another day, another sibling au brainrot except this time my friend said something about etho having logos and pathos as siblings and i just had to

have some beetho with sibling shenanigans

word count: 629

///

Beef was having a weird day.

That was nothing special. It was the Hermitcraft server! He had found his pets all turned upside down, his skin turning a concerning shade of green, and the vague feeling he shouldn’t have signed his soul over to xB and Hypno, all in the same season!

Surely clones of his best friend didn’t breach the top ten on his weirdest shit that’s happened to him list. Hell, clones weren’t anything new anyway.

So, Beef did what he always did and embraced the strange with a smile on his face.

“Hey, Etho!” Beef called. “And Etho Two. And Etho Three. What brings you guys here?”

But as similar as they looked with their trademark white hair, they wore strikingly different clothing. The first Etho, of course, was dressed in his usual ninja attire. The second wore overalls that ended mid-thigh, and his hair curled the slightest bit around his face. The third had glasses (like a nerd, Beef’s mind unhelpfully supplied), a collared shirt, shorts, and boots sturdy enough to trudge through a swamp with no issue.

Well, he had no idea what to make of this, and he didn’t quite feel like dedicating all his brain cells to this at the moment. Beef looked towards who he assumed to be the original Etho for help.

Etho Two gasped. “Wait, he doesn’t know about us? Etho!”

“Haven’t you two been friends for years?” Etho Three murmured.

The annoyed look on Etho’s face only grew denser with that, but he stared straight ahead at Beef. “Hi, Beef. These are my brothers. Pathos is the one in the overalls. Logos is the one with glasses. Ignore everything they say.”

Brothers? When the hell did Etho have brothers?

“Well, that’s rude,” Pathos huffed.

“And kicking my door down while I’m eating breakfast isn’t?”

“It’s only rude if you’re younger. Which you are. So you’re rude.”

Etho snorted and elbowed him, leading to a squabble that Beef had no interest in interrupting.

But Logos just stared, uninterested in the squabble and everything else around him. He stared at Beef through narrowed eyes like a scientist scrutinizing a specimen, and it was more unnerving than Beef was willing to give him credit for.

“Bloody apron, tall, beard...” Logos muttered. Then in a louder voice, he said, “Isn’t this the butcher Etho always talks about?”

Everything stopped.

For the first time in years, genuine panic sprung on Etho’s face. But before he could get anything out, Pathos said, “It must be! Oh, snappers, we found him!”

Beef chuckled nervously and took a step back. Anything that worried Etho must’ve been worth worrying about.

Wait, butcher that Etho always talked about?

“If you don’t shut up right now,” Etho started, then was promptly interrupted.

“It’s him! The one with the pretty blue eyes!” Pathos squinted. “Oh, but they don’t look too terribly pretty right now. Are you feeling okay?”

Before Beef could even process the first part of that sentence, Logos said, “Etho did say he had the best laughter. Do you mind laughing for us?”

“Etho says you have the best singing voice, but I’m pretty sure it’s me who sings the best. Care for a sing-off?”

“Etho compliments your buildings far too much, but I’ve noticed that your redstone is rather lackluster. Do you need lessons?”

“Etho says you tell the best stories! Come on, tell us a story!”

It continued. Oh, god, it continued. And with each comment, the tips of Etho’s ears grew redder and redder.

Beef wasn’t sure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what to make of any of this, but all he knew was his heart was beating too quickly and today was much stranger than it had any right to be.

[space-city-traffic]

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

[kankuroplease]

Could u bless us with some fluff hcs for tobirama and aori

Here’s a few I can see 😁

Tobirama was very relieved that Aori doesn’t find his sternness off putting, it was a not so small concern of his when they first started talking.

Tobirama’s her first boyfriend so he’s going to get all her blushy-dorky moments

Including but not limited to her shaky voice asking if he wants to come to her place, not knowing how to kiss, ears blushing when they hold hands, etc..

But after Tobirama makes it clear he’s not judging her for that other things? Sometimes. He can’t help that part of him She relaxes quite a bit and starts showering him with love

Aori is going to hug him at least once a day just because. He just looks like he needs a good hug

He can be prickly all he wants. He’s still getting hugged and notes wishing him a good and successful day.

He is glad she can keep up with most of his ideologies and cares about his well being when it comes to work.

He’s not going to simply stop being a workaholic, but it’s touching that she cares so much. And he will try to get home early when he can.

Also enjoys when she joins him while doing paperwork. Most times she’s bring some sort of snack or lunch/dinner for them to share

They often spar with one another, to Aori it’s all fun and games, she doesn’t know he’s actually seriously assessing her skills each time

He’s so serious about her continuing to improve because he’s worried she might get a mission she won’t be able to come back from if she doesn’t. So he’s willing to push her to her limits.

Luckily for him, Aori doesn’t mind bumps, cuts, scrapes, and bruises. She just smiles and tells him she’ll get him next time

They have fishing dates (Aori’s idea) to catch fish for dinner

Aori will try to get him to join her for a swim too while they’re there

Aori has a habit of biting her bottom lip whenever she’s looking deep into his eyes he notices

Both of them enjoy talking about their students. They can do that all day and probably have.

Probably also got in a mini “debate” on teaching methods more than once too 😅

First time she introduced him to her cat, he was alarmed with how hefty and fluffy this creature truly was. Not a ninja tool in the least.

Sasa did take an immediate liking to Tobirama, which cemented her belief that Tobirama is a good guy ☺️

Tobirama lets Sasa join him on the couch where he will aimlessly pet him and play with his paws

If Tobirama is particularly “cranky” Aori knows to give him space, but she will make him so tea in hopes it will relax him a bit.

If he seems stressed Aori will have him lay his head in her lap while she massages his scalp, shoulders, and chest.

Probably will have him flip over so she can get his back too.

Unlike her sister, she can’t bake to save her life because she eyes her ingredients verses measuring them. BUT she’s a really good cook do you years of playing mom for Katsura and her brutal honesty

It’s the only thing outside of being a shinobi that she’s good at so she doesn’t mind cooking most of the meals they share.

Gets super bashful at the slightest compliment from him about her cooking.

Dinner dates with Hashirama are definitely a thing

Aori enjoys seeing the brothers chat and she double enjoys Mito’s divine company

First time Tobirama called her his woman in front of guest, Aori spent the rest of the night fighting a goofy smile

Tobirama isn’t the most romantic guy all the time but if he knows there’s something she wants, he’ll make sure to get it.

He can tell when Aori isn’t feeling well by how quiet she is. Not humming a little song, not striking up conversation?? He’s worried

Won’t say anything unless she’s feverish but he will be the one to make tea or try his best to get home early to check on her.

She also falls asleep on the floor quite a bit when she’s studying and Sasa usually sleeps right next to her face, practically on her head. It’s the most ridiculous and sort of endearing thing he’s seen.

Aori likes to fall asleep cuddling. Lowkey will pout if he doesn’t pull her into an embrace.

Tobirama likes the closeness too. Let’s him know she’s not mad at him and he can drift off to the soft scent of her.

They have hair maintenance days because they both are picky about their hair lengths. So they will trim the others hair at home.

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, FINALE)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 3,169

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Language Probably, Canon Divergence, Alcohol, Implied Torture, Espionage, Fem!Reader @tiktoktheclockisticking​

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: I can’t believe it’s over. Damn... okay.

Kabuto sat at the bar. He fiddled with the neck of his near-empty bottle.

You hadn’t been home for about three days.

Even in a village full of trained shinobi, no one seemed to notice him. But with all his years in espionage, Kabuto would be surprised if anyone did. The bartender came over, motioning to take the glassware, but Kabuto held up a hand with the shake of his head. The bottle stayed. He originally intended for the bottle to be more of a prop than an actual drink, but the more he asked about you and the more people didn’t seem to know, the less decorative the liquid became. No one seemed to know your name and if they did, they certainly didn’t acknowledge it. Kabuto only heard the same story and not much more: that a terror attack was carried out on the Leaf by the Sound. While Orochimaru did send men after you, Kabuto saw that crater with his own eyes. He knew two things for sure: your chakra signature and that the Leaf was trying to cover it up. Kabuto took a deep breath, assuring himself that he just hadn’t found the right person to talk to yet.

“That was a pretty deep sigh there.” Kabuto turned to his right. The man next to him leaned on his elbows, slightly hunched over the counter. A few wisps of hair fell from his high ponytail. He took a sip of his drink, nose scrunching at the strength. The scar across his face flexed with his red-tinted cheeks. The man met Kabuto’s gaze. He motioned to Kabuto’s, unknown to him, stolen vest. “Are they working you Jounin as hard as I’ve heard?” Kabuto faked a slight laugh.

“Oh yes they are,” he answered, bobbing his head a few times. Kabuto fully intended on leaving the conversation there, but he took a momentary pause and studied the man out of the corner of his eye. Kabuto bit the inside of his lip before turning fully on his stool to offer his hand to the stranger. “Asai Takehiko,” he lied. The man grabbed his hand without a moment of hesitation.

“Umino Iruka.” The Leaf ninja introduced himself before downing the rest of his drink before waving the bartender over for another. Iruka motioned towards Kabuto. “I’ve never seen you around.”

“I graduated to Jounin recently. You know how it is with new meat on the battlefield. I suppose being thrown in at the deep end is one way to gain experience.” Iruka chuckled.

“So you must not have been home for a while then. I’ll cheers to that.” He lifted his glass and Kabuto fingers wrapped around the neck of his own bottle. The glasses clinked together. Kabuto held his to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he studied the dwindling liquid of Iruka’s cup. After a few seconds, Iruka came up for air. “Not taking the Jounin exam is definitely something I don’t regret.” Kabuto quirked an eyebrow.

“What are they having you do?”

“I teach.” Kabuto’s eyes flickered in amusement. He restrained the corners of his lips from turning upward, covering his mouth with one hand in order to not give himself away.

“You teach? I’m assuming at the Academy?” Iruka nodded and Kabuto snorted, hitting Iruka playfully on the arm. “You work with kids and you’re day drinking on a weekday?” The mocking tone translated nicely into playfulness.

“It’s been that kind of week, my friend.” Iruka’s smile faltered, his gaze focused on blank space as he seemed to recall a particularly bitter memory. Kabuto’s expression narrowed. He had a hunch, but he wasn’t about to reveal his hand yet. Perhaps luck shone down on him after all. Kabuto took another swig from his drink with a casual shrug.

“I think everyone’s been kinda on edge. You know, with what happened. An attack in the middle of the village is some real scary stuff.” Iruka pursed his lips, a subtle display of body language that was not lost on Kabuto. He went on. “You know, just being a new rank in this line of work. I have family around where it happened. I’m afraid that I won’t be there to protect them if something like this happens again.” Iruka shook his head.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said with a fair amount of hesitation. He gulped, running a palm across his face. “With all the precautions being taken by the Hokage I’m sure that it won’t happen again any time soon.” Kabuto crossed his legs and tilted his head.

“You seem to have more information than I do. And you seem pretty upset.” Iruka let out a bitter huff.

“Yeah, I think that’s an understatement.” Kabuto paused, giving time for his victim to marinate in his thoughts before he probed further. Iruka’s chest puffed out as he filled his lungs with air. Another heavy huff. “It’s all just… very confusing and conflicting and I haven’t been able to get proper sleep for a while because for some weird reason I feel responsible.” Iruka didn’t bat an eye at his own confession or at the fact that he was venting to a stranger. Kabuto’s interest, however, was piqued.

“Responsible, huh?” He put a hand on Iruka’s shoulder and pointed a finger at his chest with the other. “You sound like you’re being way too hard on yourself.”

“I wish I was.” Yet another sigh from Iruka. “I really do…” Kabuto frowned, faux confusion washing over his features.

“It was the Sound Village, my man. I think you’ve had one too many to be thinking that kinda stuff.” Iruka hesitated as he looked around wildly. The bar had, for the most part, cleared out to leave Kabuto, Iruka, and a single stranger at the very end of the bar. The bartender had stepped out at some point during their conversation. Iruka leaned in a bit closer.

“Okay, you promise that this stays between you and me?” Kabuto inwardly celebrated his victory but kept his expression concerned and humble. Demeanor sympathetic, he nodded. Iruka looked around again before whispering, “The Hidden Sound didn’t attack the Leaf. At least not directly.” Kabuto blinked, mouth agape in faux surprise.

“What does that mean?” He started to grow just the slightest bit impatient, but Kabuto reminded himself that after days of information gathering, he had struck gold. He was going to find you, no matter what it took.

“It means that the Hokage is investigating one of our own for conspiracy and treason.” Kabuto covered his mouth before letting his wrist fall back onto his lap.

“No. Conspiracy against the village?” Kabuto couldn’t help the slightest bit of guilt gnaw at him. Maybe he hadn’t been as careful visiting you as he thought he had been, but for the moment he pushed those thoughts from his mind. He tilted his head towards the ceiling, eyes moving back and forth in pretend thought. “This wouldn’t be a friend of yours would it?” Kabuto met Iruka’s surprised eyes.

“How did you know?” Iruka’s guard was officially down. Kabuto offered a friendly smile.

“Well because you’re so distraught! Anyone could take a guess. Have you at least gotten a chance to talk to her?” Iruka recognized something off about his new friend’s statement, but he couldn’t pinpoint it in his intoxication. He nodded, describing the journey to your cell and your painful conversation.

But Kabuto didn’t care much for the bit about your conversation. Rather, he sat in quiet, victorious awe as the building you were in and the floor number slipped from Iruka’s lips. In the end, that’s all he would need. Iruka, at least at the moment, didn’t suspect a thing.

***

The blood remained smeared across your skin despite your injuries healing hours before. The Leaf had gotten creative.

You were certain that Iruka didn’t believe your story, so you were confident that the Torture and Interrigation Force didn’t either. Even if it was the truth. You steadied yourself and slowly leaned back to lay down on your cot. In spite of your closed wounds, your muscles stretched in soreness. You shifted to one side, spine cracking along your back. The taste of your own blood lingered in your mouth.

The moon shone through the sliver of a window near the ceiling of your cell. Looking up, you couldn’t help but wonder what Kabuto was doing. You wondered if he was looking for you. You cringed at the memory of your last conversation. The night where you practically threw yourself at him in desperation, spouting feelings that perhaps should have gone unspoken. Maybe Iruka was right. Maybe you really weren’t making any sense. You sighed aloud to yourself. Yeah, you sure scared him off alright.

You let your eyes flutter shut. You hadn’t been allowed to enjoy a full night of sleep and you knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone came to drag you away again. You didn’t suppose that many fraternized with Sound ninja just for the companionship. The Leaf expected a grander plot. Part of you considered making up a lie, that maybe you’d be let go if you told them what they wanted to hear, but you knew no matter what you said you’d be stuck. Your breathing slowed quickly and for once since you had been locked up, a semblance of peace overcame you.

By the time you heard the door open, you didn’t even know whether or not you had actually had any time to rest. You were still exhausted, but the moment you heard the tinkering of keys at your cell door you bolted straight up. Out of it, you didn’t even register standing until after the fact. Two shinobi entered your confines. You could hardly muster a coherent thought and you certainly couldn’t process the body of the unconscious guard that fell at your feet.

“You weren’t away that long that you forgot about me, were you, dear?”

You dragged your eyes up, heart beating faster and faster. Kabuto stood before you. He still held his kunai. The Konoha Jounin uniform fit him nicely, a vision of what might have been in another world. He grinned ear to ear, smug smirk plastered onto his lips. Your eyes widened. Without a moment's hesitation, you went to him and he accepted you with open arms. His weapon clattered to the floor. Your lips crashed into one another’s like waves on the shore. Kabuto held you close. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers tangled in his hair. Kabuto’s stolen hitai-ate fell down around his eyes. He pushed it back up and you both parted. He was there, right there under your fingertips. You couldn’t stop shaking. You buried your face in his shoulder and he caressed the back of your head. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and down his vest. You didn’t even realize that you were crying.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I? I know this wasn’t really my style, but they’re really stingy with the keys around here.” And Kabuto laughed, blinking back the drops that threatened to spill over his own waterline. He wasn’t ever one to cry and he’d be damned if he looked like anything less than a hero during your rescue. You snickered with him and clenched your eyes shut, further staining your cheeks. The side of your face melted into his palm and Kabuto leaned his forehead against yours.

“You came back for me,” You breathed, inhaling his familiar scent. He smelled like the village, something akin to mornings in the forest. “H-h-how, how did you? What did, did you?” You could hardly find the words. Kabuto grasped your hand.

“Doesn’t matter.” He breathed in. He wasn’t too late.

***

Konoha, despite its strength, was in many ways a dated nation. The alarm bells didn’t even begin to ring until you and Kabuto were half way across town. You had to hurry. Leaf shinobi acted quickly and every second a new set of peering eyes were being awakened from their beds.

You followed Kabuto closely. You didn’t get to ask any questions, you didn’t have time. All that you knew for sure is that Kabuto, once again, came to your rescue. What that meant, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to question it.

Kabuto stopped in front of you and knelt down.

“You go ahead.” You became very aware of the bags under your eyes and the bolt of adrenaline in your veins. He began to unpack a few items from his equipment, attaching paper bombs to kunai and preparing traps that you couldn’t process properly in your tired haze.

“What are you going to do?” The corners of Kabuto’s lips tugged into a sly grin. He took a bit too much pleasure in moments like these. Nimble fingers pulled knots tightly. By the time he rose back up again, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a walking arsonal.

“Buy us a little more time… and little insurance,” he said, not even bothering to hide the glee in his eyes, “It’s a straight shot from here. You know where to meet me. Wait for me there.” As he turned away you grasped onto his sleeve.

“Wait,” You gulped, casting your eyes downward with hot cheeks. Kabuto let out an amused scoff before leaning to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“As much as I appreciate the concern, we’re getting low on time, dear.” He dragged a finger across the outline of your ear, tucking a few strands on hair back. “I’ve got this handled. Go, I’ll be there before you even know I’m gone.”

And with one last squeeze of his wrist, he went. You let out a shaky breath before facing the opposite direction. You had started to build up some nerve a while ago. It was recent, but nonetheless you’ve started… so you supposed you shouldn’t stop now. Jumping from your place, you began running across the rooftops. Your eyes locked onto the forest. You sped to your top speed, darting into the woods. Free. The branches and leaves blurred together as you continued on. You took a sharp inhale. You knew that you wouldn’t be back here anytime soon.

You ran until the exhaustion caught up with you. Your back felt drenched with sweat, you stopped at a small clearing among the trees. Leaning up against the bark, you forced air into your lungs in an attempt to sate the burning within them. Your head pounded as fatigue gripped your muscles. The meeting spot wasn’t too far ahead. An often overlooked piece of the forest, you were sure that no one would find you here.

A rustling came from nearby.

“You know, when you said that you’d be back before I knew you were gone I didn’t think you’d be back that…” You trailed off. The man that stood in front of you was not Kabuto, but Iruka. He wore half civilian clothes. The scar on his face and his hitai-ate were the only articles that could have truly signified that he was a shinobi. His determined eyes met yours unyieldingly as he panted from his travel. You were in no shape to fight him. “How did you find me?”

“You’re leaving,” he noted, exasperated. His eyes were opened slightly wider than usual. Perhaps even he didn’t know what he was seeing. The trees rustled above you. Quiet overtook the landscape. It was only you and Iruka. “This was the only direction you could have taken and not have gotten caught. Direct path from the compound...”

“Yeah,” You answered, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I…” Your features softened. Your shoulders slumped and you let out a heavy sigh. Iruka remained silent. “You know I can’t stay here. I-I can’t just stay locked up like that.” He hung his head, arms coming to cross in front of his chest. He nodded, bobbing his head a few times. Iruka’s hand came to run through his hair.

“I… I know.” He pursed his lips, stammering over his words. “You didn’t, uh…”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” You defended yourself quickly. A shiver worked its way down your spine. “Anyone else I should say.” You mirrored him and crossed your arms.

A pause. Iruka could have taken you in, but something told you that he wasn’t going to.

“I’m sorry for not having more faith in you. I’m sorry if I could have done something to prevent all of this.” The honesty in his admission shot straight to your heart. You weren’t leaving behind a lot that you would miss in the Leaf, but Iruka was most definitely one of them.

“This was inevitable. You… thought what anyone would think. I can’t blame you for that.” You gestured to yourself. “I’m sorry for what I said and I just want you to know that I’ve always appreciated our friendship.”

“No,” Iruka waved a hand before it returned back to the crook of his elbow. “I—”

“Why don’t you tell me next time?” Iruka’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. You shrugged with a smile. “There’s a lot to talk about. A lot to apologize for. Let’s just… save it for the next time we see each other. Because you’re not losing me for good. We’ll just… catch up a lot later than we meant to.” Iruka’s expression melted into something resembling sentiment.

“Yeah. For sure. We’ll catch up later.” You approached him and you enveloped each other in a sweaty hug. You took him in, the last of your life in Konohagakure. He rested his chin on your head. “He better treat you right.”

“He will. He does. You don’t have to worry about that.” You parted, Iruka’s hands remained on your shoulders. A rustling came from behind you and both of you turned to look as Kabuto appeared at the other end of the small clearing. He had two bags slung over his shoulders. He gave a respectful nod towards Iruka who gave a small wave back.

“Umino Iruka, nice seeing you again.” Iruka pointed a finger towards the rogue ninja with playfulness in his voice.

“You, sir, are a menace to spies everywhere.” Kabuto cracked a smile with a snort.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

And with one last contrite look, you and Iruka parted ways. He jumped out into the wilderness and you turned to Kabuto. Leaflitter crunched under your feet as you made your way over. You wrapped your arms around him. He murmured a few sweet words into your ear and your lips brushed against his cheek.

“So where are we going?” You asked as you took one of the bags with the assumption that it was for you.

“Wherever you’d like to go.” Kabuto’s fingers laced between yours. “I don’t know. I don’t have a plan from here if you’d believe that, my dear.” You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Perfect.”

Notes: Does anyone else smell a sequel series ‘cause, uh, I left things very open for a reason? Like any finale I’d love to hear what you have to say!

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hello there, I really liked your writing and especially the prompt with enemy forces attack and lack of oxygen! May I ask you to write it with Perceptor and Drift? (Separately, just in case). Thank you in advance!)

Got a ninja boy and a science boy here for you anon!

Got some links to the previous posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: You're Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Perceptor

·Your arrival on the ship required him to work with the medics to ensure you could survive on it, and that obviously included working with you quite frequently to gather data, which eventually evolved into you assisting directly as the upgrades were put into place. Though he was initially hesitant to admit your presence was nice and he briefly stalled on finishing the upgrades just to spend more time together, you wore him down enough that he eventually relented and confessed to wanting you around. In the short time since things have come very far, enough so that he freely requests your aid in projects, chatting idly as he makes use of your tiny size and encouraging demeanor.

·This is exactly what you're up to today, though you're in the shooting range as opposed to your usual set up in the lab. While he's more than confident in his ability to handle this experimental weapon, he needs it here for when it's finally tested, and your small hands are ideal for a final stability check. A barely observable feeling in his spark registers as excited pride for you to see the weapon in action, but he keeps that to himself... It's bad enough someone walked in on the two of you holding hands as much as your differing sizes allowed the other day, and he doesn't need any more embarrassment.

·There's still a tiny smile on his face as he takes the first few shots, and the accuracy combined with the little cheer from you makes it impossible to keep it from growing. He's about to remark that this is only the first trial of the adjustable blaster, and thus not inductive of its real potential, when he's interrupted by a garbled communication. As you watch him answer, it's hard to hold back reasurance at the hint of frustration on his face, because you know him well enough to understand he doesn't appreciate the disturbance while trying to show off to you. Perhaps one day you'd let him know how easy he was for you to read.

·Well accustomed to frantic requests for his assistance, Perceptor finds himself unexpectedly surprised when the transmission is nearly inaudible, and the message from the bridge proves to be nothing more than a few broken sentences mentioning crashes and security systems before going dead. Not certain what could possibly be causing the ship he personally inspects to suffer malfunctions but knowing it must be corrected, he immediately plans to set off and get to the bottom of things. Securing the weapon into its holster on his back, he offers his hand to transport you with him, surmising you'll be safest with him at least until they have a better idea of what's going on. Of course he already has some theories, but he never acts without evidence.

·Glad to come along, even if only to help him run through some ideas, you happily take your place in his palm. Being without a vehicular mode means he pretty much had to get accustomed to carrying you everywhere he wanted to take you, as it takes quite a few steps for you to match one of his. Now he rather likes being able to hold you in a way that enables easy conversation, especially because as he walks and looks down to you in his palm and you look up at him with those genuinely fascinated eyes... It's nice. Currently he's listing the usual suspects for spacefaring trouble; solar flares, electric storms, debris collisions, and how none of them seem the likely culprit here for various reasons. You've seen him enter this state of unparalleled focus many times, and can't help but wish the circumstances could be better, because you love seeing him in his element.

·Both of you have a rather unfortunate awakening when a series of tremors pass through the ship and nearly knock him to the floor, something he prevents with quick reflexes that momentarily turn your world dark, a phenomenon you realize in an instant was caused by both of his hands cupping protectively around you. When they part you're left peaking upwards through digits at a somewhat concerned and bashful bot. Affirming you're alright, you watch as he gets moving again in an instant, now in full crisis mode after your little tumble. You know enough to be equally concerned by this turn of events, particularly because spaceships aren't known for their tremors.

·Talking as he walks, he has every one of his sharp senses on full alert for the trouble he knows will be coming, including his sense of touch to keep tabs on your small body in his hands. Being aware of every single potential problem means he knows quite well you could be in danger already. It worries him, to a level of concern he's not accustomed to feeling after experiencing so much combat. You can see the anxiety he's trying so hard to work through. There's a crackle in his spark that bots only have when very on edge, and you're close enough to hear it through his armored chest, spurring you to reach out and lay a hand against the warm metal. For a moment his optics meet your eyes, and at your reassuring smile he seems to regain some measure of calm control. His mind quickly uses that to put together a plan.

·While that tremor very likely came from an anchoring weapon on an enemy vessel, none of that explains the system shutdowns precluding it, and he needs to know the full extent of the threat before he can launch a counterattack. Most bots would need a well established access point to get diagnostics for the whole ship, but thankfully he's a bit more skilled than that. Explaining that he merely needs a workstation with any kind of physical connection to the main network, he begins what he is certain will be a quick search, and while you're delighted by the boost he obviously feels thanks to feeling in control you're a bit too tired to celebrate. Not wanting him to know the stress of the situation is wearing you down, your smile remains steadfast to give him the strength he needs.

·As he predicted, finding something suitable for his needs is a breeze, and he's so distracted by the impending answers he doesn't notice you growing drowsy in his palms. Though the small room is little more than a relay station for routine power inspection, it's perfect for what he has planned, and he places you on a nearby table as he gets to work. Even if your head were clear the flurry of activity he follows with wouldn't make sense. Somehow a motley collection of dust covered components becomes rewired into a humming piece of... something in what feels like minutes, and you absolutely beam with pride to see your partner pulling up the information he needs on a monitor, heavy eyelids lifted by your desire to watch him work more wonders.

·Data starts flowing through his makeshift diagnostic scanner in moments, and Perceptor watches intently as the ship's systems flash their readouts in order, though even he can't keep his expression calm as he all too rapidly puts together the horrifying pieces. They haven't just been boarded; they've been sabotaged. Most of the damage is meant to neuter their defenses and hinder any attempt at an organized counterattack, but one key readout tells him that you in particular are in the most dire need of assistance. The atmospheric generators and oxygen stabilizers he personally optimized for your benefit are going haywire, and the air you need to survive is rapidly being drained from the ship. The sheer size of the vessel, and the ability of its crew to keep the attackers at bay for this long, is the only reason you're still alive. In an instant he's on the move.

·You're cupped in oversized palms just as you realize you were laying down for a nap you didn't know had snuck up on you. Bleary in your head as well as your eyes, you hear him speak in the flat, rapid manner that he only uses when something critical is on the line. While his inflection is clear enough for you to catch his basic meaning, for the life of you it's just not possible to panic as much as you should, and his explanation of a plan doesn't register in the slightest. You know it should, and you feel awful for being so calm while he needs you, but the strength for you to be what he needs just isn't there. There is enough clarity for you to register one thing though, namely how closely he's cradling you to his chest. Such an open display of caring and concern is usually not something you see from him. A part of you rather likes it.

·Cold fear that he's come quite unaccustomed to creeps through him as he takes off through the ship. The medical bay is his ideal destination, as he helped create the human catered medical equipment already there, but he knows that time being of the essence means he has to plan for every possible situation, including those far from ideal. What matters is getting you oxygen, fast. The data on human biology made it impossibly clear; every minute without adequate oxygen is critical. Horrifying possibilities run through his mind, the diagrams of cell death he memorized almost taunting him as you appear to grow weaker with every passing breath. Feelings he'd long since forgotten, powerlessness and grief, eat away at him as he internally bemoans his lack of an altmode.

·You feel incredibly guilty as he grows more panicked, but sleep beckons far too strongly for you to resist it long. There's a part of you that knows his incredibly brilliant mind struggles when he doesn't feel in control, to the point he breaks reality at times to regain that handle on the world around him. So seeing you like this and being unable to do much in the moment... no doubt it's tearing him apart. Words don't come easy at the moment, and in fact you realize there's no way to form them at all, but still you try to reassure him. There's so much panic in the spark he holds you beside, and you do everything you can to convey that none of this is his fault. Gently splaying your fingers over the warm metal, you feel the world around you become little more than a blur.

·For a moment the path before him is filled with enemies. He nearly barrels into them rounding a corner, but not a moment is wasted once he has a full count of their number. One hand cradling you protectively, his other grabs the weapon he'd been testing with you before, and the still recovering alien soldiers become nothing more than an impromptu accuracy test. Even for him the precise carnage that follows is unimaginable. A series of heads jerk backwards before hulking bodies go limp, and in mere moments the threat is little more than a pile of confused looking corpses, but there's no time to celebrate. He's off with the weapon in hand for any future attacks.

·You hear him speaking to you as the last vestiges of your strength finally give way. He's trying to sound calm as he urges you to retain consciousness, but for once it's a losing effort, as you can hear the crack in his performance. It makes you sadder than anything else thus far. Particularly because you simply can't stay awake a moment longer. There's just too much weight in your limbs, and the warm darkness promises you a break, so you simply have to give in. All you can hope is that he'll understand neither one of you is to blame, and that you'll be able to wake up and tell him that yourself, but you're not especially worried about the latter half.

·He feels you go completely limp just as the medical bay and laboratory signs come into view. Now in a blind desperation, he makes a split second decision to head for his lab, reasoning that the medical bay will certainly be crowded due to current circumstances. Everything he'll need can be found in his various tools, and he can't waste a moment waiting on anyone else, even the medics. He can recall so clearly the human texts now, how the phenomenon of suffocation was described, and the resulting smothering of irreplaceable cells... Your tiny body is still breathing, but how much damage has already been inflicted? What parts of you has he failed to save? Not knowing is tearing him apart.

·Brainstorm is the only one in the lab, and he looks momentarily relieved to see Perceptor enter, saying something about restoring communication before catching sight of the little body in his hands. A frantic recommendation to bring them to the medical bay is met with curt dismissal as he lays you on an open work slab. There's no time to entrust this to anyone else, and in his mind the supplies he needs are already listed clear as day, including where to find them and what order he needs them in to maximize efficiency. Conscious thought is almost nonexistent as he works with record speed. The only times he stops are when his traitorous optics glance to your tiny body, and each glimpse is like an icy dagger to his spark. This isn't it. It can't be it. He won't lose the one he cares about more than anything.

·The tank of oxygen and the human sized ventilation system are hooked up to your frightfully still face with the care of a diamondsetter. He's able to get the readings of your improvement quickly, as the oxygen levels in the ship were apparently not yet low enough to do real damage, but he feels no comfort. All of his mind is still in chaos from the helplessness he can't yet shake. The fog is so deep that he barely notices Brainstorm return with a glowering Ratchet, and he only replies in curt affirmations or negations when the medic begins questioning your condition, doing so somewhat gruffly due to the inconvenience of having to move you later. With only a confirmation from the other mech you'll be in his care, he heads back out into the ship, weapon in hand and optics cold as he sets about securing Autobot victory one shot at a time.

·By the time you awaken the battle is over and the Lost Light is back to near total functionality. A calm voice instructs you to keep your oxygen mask on just a little longer to be safe, and you see Perceptor sitting beside you in the small recovery room. Having the basic pieces of everything more or less clear in your head, your immediate concern is him, which is only made worse by the scratches and scuffs on his usually well maintained armor. Barely able to stay where you are, the questions begin to pour forth as you reach a hand out to him. There's an uncharacteristically exhausted smile on his face as he reaches out a servo for you to hold. The expression is an obvious mask, made only more strained by the fake flatness of his assurance that he's fine, and that he only endured minor damage while cleaning out the last of the enemy. You know he's lying about that and more.

·Despite your ability to read him, you're still surprised when he cracks in a heartbreaking moment. His shoulders shake, his helm falls forward, and he leans heavily against the berth as your gentle prompt forces it all to the surface. By his standards he's a wreck, though his sobs are barely audible and could easily be mistaken for rough ventilations, and he makes it clear he's aware of how pathetic he looks. But how can he be okay? You needed him, and it was his own system that had failed you, with a second rate cyber attack no less. He should have seen that coming from the onset! He should have prepared! He can't seem to find the ground beneath him as he shakes, and in that instant you find strength far beyond your tiny body, and you use it to claw your way towards him. Seeing this makes him panic, and when he tries to gently stop your efforts you grab him tight, looking deep into those optics as you remind him he doesn't have to know everything. There will be times he's up against the unknown and unexpected, but his determination and strength have always driven him forward, and that's what you fell in love with. As you speak he seems to regain himself, and you hold him as tight as you can while emphasizing that even if everything feels out of control, you'll always be here to figure it out beside him. There's a sigh of relief he doesn't bother to hide as his world stabilizes, and once again you and he are right where you belong, hand in hand at the center.

Drift

·Having spent time on earth made him rather familiar with humans, and that combined with his first hand experience being an outsider in a group made him determined to ensure you were welcome on the ship. Needless to say, his efforts were more than a little successful. Now he's trying to teach you self defense in your shared quarters, which requires some creative thinking to ensure your safety. He's still got you using lightweight staffs in the place of anything sharp, and being a beginner, you can't complain too much. Though it's hard not to laugh when something occasionally gets bonked, yourself included, and even he chuckles despite all attempts to appear the dedicated teacher. Even with these distractions you learn a lot, but it's hard not to just enjoy how gentle he is when adjusting your stance, his proportionally massive hands holding you as if you might shatter in an instant.

·Thankfully he has full control of his reactions when the ship unexpectedly spasms, and his cupped palm prevents you from tumbling to the floor as the tremors settle back to absolute stillness, allowing you to look up at Drift just as he opens his communication line to Rodimus. The captain is able to give a brief rant about an ambush and systems crashing all over before the line begins to break, and you see your steadfast partner visibly distress as he loses contact with his friend, getting only a few garbled bits of information before the line goes entirely silent. An attempt by you to establish contact on your own communicator finds no success either. For all of his usual calm, the mech still supporting you looks ready to fight as he acknowledges trouble is inbound.

·To your surprise, he lifts you clear off the floor in a single move, talking fast as he secures his weapons and prepares for what he says will be a run for the most secure parts of the ship. Even if he's one of the key bots for defense in the event of something just like this, he has to get you to safety, or at least somewhere relatively well protected. There's a few key locations he can think of; the headquarters for security, the laboratories, the medical bay, and a few others he's memorized for... well, this exact purpose. The moment a tiny human changed his world he had drafted countless protective measures to ensure their safety, because he knew the dangers they would face all too well. Unfortunately he's having a hard time keeping them all in track now, especially with creeping fear tainting his reason and ability to plan ahead.

·Catching the worry he never admits to having, and admittedly plenty afraid yourself, you help him focus by calmly asking for the closest place he knows of that's secure. Mask of calm returning in an instant, he smiles and decides to go for the main laboratory. Perceptor is likely there, getting whatever experimental defense apparatus he's currently testing up and running to expel incoming threats. There likely won't be a safer place in the universe once he's prepared. Drift keeps to himself that there's an unspoken understanding between them regarding you, namely that the reserved scientist will protect you with the same level of veracity he would his former battle partner. Unfortunately that vow may be getting tested very shortly... Yet he keeps smiling, refusing to let his fear dampen your energy as he decides it's time to make his move. Somehow you feel just as heavy in his hand as the sword on his back as he makes sure you're secure.

·Accustomed to being carried by him in a number of ways, you notice his grip is different the instant he steps into the hallway, his digits curled in a way that screams protection just as much as his narrowed optics radiate apprehension despite trying to appear calm. You know he's protective by nature, but this is different. Every part of him is working in unison to move with as little noise as possible, his senses alert and scanning for threats as he hurries through the ship far more silently than you would have ever expected for a bot his size. In all your time together he's never been so outwardly on edge. Through his shameful confessions you know of his past, and you know of his skill in eliminating threats, so to see him nervous is actually a touch alarming in itself.

·There's a quick whisper from him that he believes enemies may be unavoidable no matter what path he takes. Should there be combat, he warns, he wants you to remain hidden or at least in cover until he's eliminated the threat. Should they overpower him however, your goal will be escape through whatever means necessary. The idea of dying to protect his partner doesn't give him any pause. Instead, his only focus is on ensuring you know every tool at your disposal to get to safety. Thoughts of sending you through the vents give him little comfort, but his feelings are hardly a priority, as nothing matters beyond you. You who saw past his sins, who'd given him a home in your boundless heart, and who had brought nothing but joy and light into his life. If he could guarantee anything by sheer force of will, it was your survival.

·You want to remind him that you're not the only one who matters here. Though you don't have any of his great strength or speed, you're certainly not going to let him be taken from you, as surviving without him would hardly be a victory. But holding on to that conversation is all you can do for now. The danger is real if you draw unwanted attention through speech, and so you keep the thoughts to yourself, saving them for the time you both would have to talk when this was over. Stress is oddly nonexistent as the air crackles around you from tension, perhaps signaling you've become so anxious it's all come full circle and turned you calm. Still, you keep a firm hold on him from your position of cover. Spectralism has encouraged him to be incredibly sensitive to the world around him, so you hope your tiny self focusing on calm will help give him some comfort.

·Unfortunately your efforts are given no time to pay off. Without making so much as a sound, he pushes himself flat against a wall and shushez you as he does so, allowing you to catch the faintest hint of what alarmed him; the sound of very alien movement. Trained audials lock in on the most likely direction of the source, which gives him the information he needs to come to an important decision; there's no getting around this particular group. As time to wait them out simply doesn't exist, he's left to confirm that fighting is his only choice, and with that lays you down on the floor beside a vent opening. Having known this might happen does nothing to quell your panic when you realize you're being left on the sidelines. This mech leaves you no time to argue before silently slipping around the corner to end things quickly.

·There's a team of Cybertronian sized lifeforms so surprised by his arrival they only have time to clumsily draw their weapons before the first one is neatly cut to pieces. Double blades make short work of the next few, and the mess of alien blood barely registers as he moves in a kind of trance, unwilling to let himself waste a moment of time unleashing the frustration and anger he so desperately wants to take out on these intruders. There's no doubt in his mind they'd hurt you if given the chance, but his logic keeps him in check to ensure he doesn't lose himself to the rage such a thought tempts him with. Cold precision is what he needs to most effectively end this quickly, and the method is proven effective when the last enemy falls in pieces, all without a single mark on his own armor. Save for the few spatters of alien blood, but he hardly notices such a minor detail.

·You're a little more concerned when he returns dripping with the mess of battle, but a quick reasurance and a noting of the lack of energon's distinctive pink glow puts most of your worries to rest. Still, you cling tightly to him as he picks you back up, whispering your thanks despite the loud clamor of the recent battle. It's a small victory when your gratitude makes him smile once again. Reminding you that he took a vow to protect you, he holds you close again and sets back off, assuming the same strategy of silent travel as before. It's oddly less tense this time, as if seeing what he's up against gave him the confidence to overcome his own worries for your sake. Whatever the case, you gladly take the result, already worn out from all the excitement of his recent battle.

·A brief burst of communication gives him pause, and you're equally baffled by the sudden transmission until he takes cover and answers. The commanding bots make something clear for the short message they've been able to transmit; Drift needs to get you to the medical bay. A rapid explanation of how the shipwide errors includes the atmospheric generators puts it all together in horrifying detail. Oxygen levels are dropping on all the sensors, they explain before the line cuts out, and while it's happening slowly there's still precious little time. He doesn't need any further instructions when silence descends over you both once more. You, however, can barely grasp the full extent of what you've just been told. After all, you feel fine! Well... mostly fine, perhaps things are a bit more wobbly than they should be.

·You're embraced as his expression briefly cracks into full worry. There's a whispered promise to get you to safety before he's once again on the move, all the on edge energy from before filling his coiled body as it hurries through the ship at impressive speeds. Strategy doesn't come easily as you try to think of the best way to save your breath. Keeping calm is hardly an option with everything going on, but you give it your best shot. You just need to stay awake and as relaxed as possible until he reaches the medical bay. It's harder than it should be already, but you persevere, lying down in his hand to keep the world from spinning all around you. Being close to him helps just a little bit. It helps you believe that the two of you will be fine, that he'll get to where he needs to be without trouble, and that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here.

·But of course, his luck allows for no such fortune. In the next moment he's being forced to tuck you away without a word of warning, the sound of an even more aggressive group of attackers forcing him to act before you can be hurt. He tries to dominate the battle like he did the last one, using his anger for fuel but never allowing it to take control, and his blades respond well to the strategy at first. However, this group is larger than the last, and thus his ambush simply doesn't buy him enough time to defeat them all. Soon blaster shots are flying and counterattacks are being hurled in his direction. All he can think about is you lying just out of sight, and how little time he has for this, and that these beings are all perfectly fine ending your life with such a cowardly tactic... It's an emotional powder keg, and the spark is finally lit when a not so lucky alien manages to cut a shallow gash across his side. The harsh burn of the injury sets him off just as you manage to glance down the hallway.

·Calm and calculated combat becomes a brutal beat down of anything he can get his swords through. A snarl reveals his shamefully concealed canines as he turns his blades into instruments of revenge instead of mere tools to victory. Even as your vision spins you can see him carving the increasingly fewer number of enemies without any of his usual grace, his expression one of blind fury as he eviscerates his enemies and something like a smile pulling up on his lips through their snarl. Some part of him is enjoying this, you realize. Even though he doesn't linger or draw out his moves, you can see he's going for absolute brutality in his kills. He wants these aliens to hurt for what they've done, and while you can't feel any pity for them, you know he's going to agonize over this later. He's often confided a fear of his own mind, citing moments like these where he just wants the enemy to hurt, and you know he firmly believes goodness is beyond him because of this.

·There's a thrill as he clears the last enemy, despite a few additional injuries of his own to show for it. No one was going to harm his beloved human and keep their limbs intact. He's still flashing the artificially sharpened canines that usually bring him such shame when he turns to see you watching. Pride vaporizes to horror in an instant, both from the realization that he gave in to temptation and that you saw him partake in such senseless brutality, and only the continued need to move lets him approach and lift you once more. Apologies pour out of his voicebox as he returns to running, begging your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself and failing to control them at your most vulnerable. Guilt tears him apart as he sees you've begun to lose clarity in the growing absence of oxygen.

·Unconsciousness pulls at you despite your resistance, and you force yourself to stay alert enough to keep him reassured. Had you the words your emphasis would have been on comforting him in the wake of his loss of control, particularly in regards to how you weren't afraid and never would be, as that piece was just a small part of the actual him you knew. Did he reject you for your failings? No, you wished you could say, and that you would never leave him for the same reason. As it was, you could only suck in deep breaths and hope he might read the conviction in your eyes. You want so badly for him to see you're not even upset with him, but your more coherent thoughts on the subject are starting to fade as well. Assurances that you will always support him fade into the fog overtaking your mind.

·He feels you slip into unconsciousness and it's like another stab to his already aching spark. Time is running out, and he can certainly take some of the blame for that, can't he? How many precious seconds could have been saved if he just stayed in control and finished the battle without savoring the violence? It's enough guilt that he becomes blind to anything else, charging forward on the most direct path and straight into an ongoing battle between bots and the still invading forces. You're held to his spark with a level of protection a bot would usually reserve for the Matrix, your safety being the only one that matters as he quite literally cuts a path through the enemies, focusing only on getting to the other side as he does so. Without any kind of defense he's quickly suffering a number of injuries, but he either doesn't notice or care as he keeps you free of the danger. The desire for retribution burning in his spark is smothered by a cold refusal to indulge unless he loses what's most worth fighting for.

·Only a lack of operability in his leg slows him down, and by then he's thankfully surrounded more by Autobots than enemies. His heroic charge is credited with turning the fight, but he's heedless to praise and concern as he finds support to stand from an unexpected arrival; Ratchet. Stopping the medic before his own wounds can be addressed, he holds you out wordlessly as his sword clatters to the floor from his other hand. Energon loss he only just now notices makes him wobble, but he insists on waiting until you've been helped, refusing to be treated until he knows you're going to be okay. The medics sort of compromise by tending to him whilst setting you up on the prepared medical slab, and as his considerable injuries are patched up he feels relief plagued by uncertainty. Will you remember what you saw? Will the firsthand experience with his inner demons drive you away? It eats at him in ways no medic can make feel better.

·When you awaken he's also on mandatory rest, and he's moved your tiny self onto a medical slab beside him to keep you close, making his familiar colors the first thing you see upon opening your eyes. You can't bring yourself to care about the oxygen mask on your face when the recently welded scars on his armor shock you into a mild panic. Seeing you awake, he gently shushes your concerns and encourages you to be still, and his position on his side thankfully makes conversing quite simple. At a single, anxious prompt about your memory the moments leading up to your loss of consciousness become clear. Drift quickly assures you that everything is fine, but you catch his look of worry when you confirm your recollection, and a gentle request for more information strikes him hard.

·His apologies are as helpless as they are hopeless. The disgust with himself is nearly tangible as he begs your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself, and it takes far longer than usual to get him to listen to you, perhaps due to the mask muffling your voice. Reiterating that you already accepted his past, you recall the way he held you in the heat of everything just today, and emphasise the sheer volume of injuries he endured to save you. That's the bot you've chosen to love, at the peak of his strength and selflessness and determination... That's who he is, and who he will always be to you. Your reminder soothes the pain in his body and spark. Moving as close as he can on the berth, he takes the moment to appreciate being together once again, his faith in himself given new strength thanks to your boundless love.

[justanotherfoolhere]

I managed to write something for the KakaIru Valentine’s Week 2021!

Me: I want to write something. Maybe a double drable or a ficlet. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.

Also me: spends the whole day writing a 3k words one-shot. Ooops.

Anyway:

Title: Soulmates (I know, very original)

Rating: T (could be gen)

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

Wordcount: 3283

Tags: Kakairu Valentines Week 2021, Fluff, Light Angst, Soulmates, First Dates, Friends to Lovers

You can read on ao3 too!

            Soulmarks appeared around six or seven years old.  But it was not as exciting as one could imagine: as much as the tropes of 'first words they say to you', 'a cool mark where they first touch you' or even 'matching marks' or 'their favorite thing tattooed on your skin' were popular in books and films, the reality was far less thrilling.

               Words appeared on your forearm, but not the first ones they would say to you. No. The words that appeared were the ones they would say the moment they realized they loved you. It didn't even have to be words they say to you. You could very well never get to hear the words yourself, if whoever your soulmate is realized it when by themselves.

               All in all, soulmarks weren't that important. They were not reliable and, even if they were, they just made sense when your soulmate already loved you. Not that helping at all. Sure, children loved seeing the words and tracing their little fingers over them, and teachers took advantage of that to teach them proper spelling, reading, writing and calligraphy. Nothing made a kid work harder at writing something right than copying the words on their forearms over and over again.

               Adults, on the other hand, mostly ignored them. Sure, some helpless romantics (cough, cough, Gai, cough) still clung to them like a lifeline, but most people just kept going about their lives and never seeking them out.  Let life that its course and everything.

               Kakashi avoided his like the plague.

               It hadn't always been like this. As a child, he liked to daydream about his soulmate as much as his peers. Things got different when his father died though. Grief settling in, chilling his bones and washing away his childlike hopes. Things only got worse when his team died, when he saw Obito be crushed and failed on his only promise, failed to keep Rin safe. Then their sensei died too and he was alone.

               He didn't deserve love. He didn't deserve a soulmate.

               And a bitter and irrational part of him reminded him that everyone who loved him died. He'd be doing his soulmate a favor if he never met them.

              *

               People thought Kakashi was being stubborn or proud when he refused to go to the hospital after a dire mission. He wasn't. Well, not totally.

               When he was a kid, the words on his forearm sounded odd yet funny.

               Of course he'd try to shrug off a stab wound, the idiot.

               Like, him? Getting stabbed then just walking away? Sure, little Kakashi knew first hand how a ninja's life could be rough, but the idea was so foreign and ridiculous. He'd never ignore something so drastic!

               Also, it sounded like a funny thing to say when you love someone. Didn't sound affectionate at all.

               He was glad for it when he grew up. Maybe his soulmate wouldn't be burdened with loving him (sure they would like Kakashi a bit, but maybe not love him). And maybe Kakashi wouldn't even be present to hear it, since the sentence wasn't adressing him.

               Still, he didn't want to take any chances. So, since Kakashi can remember, he stitches up his own stab wounds. Avoiding getting stabbed also helped, but it was near impossible in fights with shurikens, kunais and the ocasional sword.

               He figured whoever his soulmate was, they must work at a hospital or be a medical nin. So he avoided both. Seemed like the best course of action.

              *

               It was just another day. A common, boring day. Kakashi was waiting in line to hand in his mission form (he was still scribbling some things on it as he waited) and could barely wait to be done with it, so he could drop dead on bed. The last mission was a nasty one and he had barely washed the blood off his face before coming here.

               Sure, he could procrastinate it, as he ever did, but now he had five old mission reports still blank and an increasingly annoyed Iruka who chewed him out for it. So he decided to drop the habit and actually hand in this one as soon as possible.

               His whole tired body complained about this choice, though.

               "I can't accept it," Iruka said with a thinly-concealed scowl.

               "Why not?!"

               "Well, for starters, you're still writing it," Iruka gestured to Kakashi still scribbling on the form, using the desk for support, "go home and rest a bit, Kakashi. You can give me the report tomorrow," wow, Kakashi thought, he should look really deplorable if Iruka missed the opportunity to reprimand him.

               He didn't recall when Iruka went from calling him "jounin-san" to "Kakashi", maybe sometime between their quarrels about what an acceptable form was, but it always made his heart skip a beat. A silly little crush, but Kakashi allowed his heart this treat. It's not like he'd ever act on it anyway.

               "Yeah, maybe I should," Kakashi concedes, too worn out to complain. A shame really, he wanted to see Iruka smiling at him for handing in a report in time for once.

               He manages to walk away two steps before Iruka calls him again, scowl deepening and something too akin to concern on his voice.

               "Kakashi, you're bleeding."

               "Oh, that?" He look at the growing blood stain on his vest. It didn't seem too serious in the fight, and he could barely feel it over his generaly aching body, "yeah, I just came from the mission, I'll take a look at it at home," he smiled, trying to look reassuring despite the mask covering most of his face.

               "Fine," there was a finality to his tone. Kakashi thought it'd be the end of the conversation.

               Than Iruka called someone to cover for him and, in less than a minute, he was up and grabbing Kakashi by the hand.

               Kakashi made a mental note that Iruka was fast and could move pretty silently when he wanted to. The blush on his face hidden by the mask.

               "Uh, you don't have to—"

               "I do," Iruka cut him with his best non-nonsense voice, "since you clearly can't be trusted to prioritize you own well-being, and I'm sick of watching it after every mission of yours."

               He let Iruka half-guide half-drag him, not even bothering to keep track of where they were going until he sees himself being pulled inside Iruka's apartment.

              *

               "I know it's a mess," Iruka didn't sound apologetic in the slightest, "but it'll have to make do," he gestured for Kakashi to sit on the sofa, throwing some things on the floor to make space, and went to fetch a first-aid kit in the bathroom.

               Kakashi took a moment to took everything in. The papers and books thrown everywhere, a few take-out packages littering the floor, the clothes scattered around. It was not dirty, just messy, which made sense with how much work Iruka had between teaching kids and scolding jounins. He probably didn't spend that much time here. Enough to make a mess, but not enough to tidy it properly.

               Still, it felt homey. Warm and safe.

               "Shirt off," Iruka came back, a serious expression, and motioned to his blood-soaked vest.

               "Maa, sensei, at least pay me a dinner first," Kakashi joked, attempting to both lighten the mood and conceal his own nervousness. Iruka didn't seem impressed.

               "Fine, fine," he took his shirt off, it landed with a wet thump on the floor.

               Iruka's eyes widened for a sec before he recomposed himself.

               "I can't believe you decided to wait on a line to hand me a half-written form after you got stabbed," Iruka sighed, pouring antiseptic on the wound without a warning, "whoever let you graduate in Academia is a moron. You have no sense of self-preservation. Or common sense," he admonished.

               Kakashi winced at the sudden sting of antiseptic, but accepted the scolding. It was fair enough. Despite the harsh words, Iruka's hands were gentle when he started stitching him up.

               "It was not really stabbing, just a tiny hit. With a kunai," He said nonchalant. Maybe Iruka would give it less importance if he did too, "I've had worse."

               "I don't doubt it," Iruka didn't look at him, his eyes on the task, "And most people call 'a hit with a kunai' stabbing," he said wryly.

               Ouch.

               When Iruka was finished with the stitches, he put some ointment over the wound and dressed it. Kakashi insisted it was more fuss than it was worth.

               "Just lie down and get some rest," Iruka sighed, "I'll fetch you some pillows and a blanket. Don't you dare getting up,"

               "Really, you don't have to. I'm fine, I can go and sleep in my own house."

               "I want to," and there it was, the finality to his voice that made clear not even the Hokage could get Kakashi out of that couch, "now stop being stubborn for a second and sleep."

               Kakashi complied (what other choice did he have, really?) and Iruka made sure to get him comfortable, a pillow under his head, another one supporting his sore legs and a fluffy, warm blanked tucked snugly over him.

               Kakashi was drifting off to sleep when he heard Iruka muttering to himself.

               "Of course he'd try to shrug off a stab wound, the idiot."

               Kakashi heart raced a bit, the too familiar words sounded weird now that he actually heard it. He'd have fled if he wasn't so comfortable and on the brink of sleep.

               His last thought was that he was wrong about his soulmate not liking him that much. He'd never imagined someone could say "idiot" in such a fond, loving tone.

               *

               Kakashi's half-baked plan of avoiding Iruka didn't even have a chance to be properly formed. It'd be a nigh impossible task when he woke up on Iruka's sofa, covered in Iruka's blankets, inside Iruka's house and with a very nonchalant Iruka sat on the floor near him with a new take-out bag on his lap.

               "Oh, good, you're awake," he said, putting his food down, "Hungry? I bought some ramen."

               "I— Ah," he said eloquently, "no, you shouldn't have bothered. I'll— I should head home now. Finish all that late reports and everything," he all but stumbled while trying to get up.

               There was a faint, amused smile on Iruka's lips.

               "That's okay, Kakashi, calm down," he handed him a bowl of ramen, "you can run away and never look at me again after you eat," his voice was even. It didn't sound like a joke nor a reprimand.

               Kakashi accepted the chopsticks offered to him and they ate in silence. there was still a bundle of warm blankets on Kakashi's feet and the sofa was more inviting than it had a right to be.

               Iruka didn't look bothered at all for the silence. His face was unreadable, as if he already expected it.

               Wait—

               "You knew!" Kakashi accused, pointing a finger at him.

               "I knew what?" Iruka feigned inocence, then, when Kakashi grunted, added more serious, "yeah, I figured it out some time ago."

               Kakashi was stunned by how lightly he said it.

               "How long ago? Exactly?" He narrowed his eyes. Iruka put a hand on his neck, a nervous habit.

               "Well... I kind of knew since we became sort-of-friends? But I just confirmed it some months ago," he tried to laugh it off, then extended his forearm to Kakashi's field of sight.

               There, in neat letters, was written Maa, Iruka, I already said I'll finish the reports! No need for violence.

               Kakashi kind of remembered this talk. It was so similar to all the others they had that it was hard to place exactly when this one took place. Iruka had rolled up a magazine and smacked Kakashi's nape with it, saying he would 'beat some sense of responsibility into him if he had to'.

               "There are not a lot of people who never hand in their reports and are on a first-name basis with me," he explains, "the 'maa' narrowed it down a lot too."

               "...I see," Kakashi was at a loss of words. So his soulmate wasn't a medical-nin like he thought, but a sensei with years of practice in patching up kids and adults alike.

               "Yes. Well, I, uh," this was getting more awkward by the minute, "I'll go back to work now. you can take you time before you leave. Eat, take a shower... You can hand all your late reports to someone else later."

               Iruka was already getting up to leave when Kakashi hastily grabbed his wrist.

               "Wait! Are you leaving just like that? After telling me you knew I was your soulmate for months?"

               "Well, I figured you didn't want a soulmate," He smiled, and there was no judgement there, "I wouldn't have told you, either. But, since, you know now, I guess it's okay if you want to put some distance between us," he motioned vaguely to the pillows Kakashi had knocked on the ground in his hurried attempt to leave.

               Kakashi couldn't find a good enough answer, so he watched mutely as Iruka made his way to the door and closed it after him.

               *

               Days passed.

               Kakashi thought it'd be fine. Iruka have handled everything so well. They hadn't sought each other out and, when they bumped into each other, Iruka was polite but distant. 'Kakashi' went back to 'jounin-san' or even 'Hatake-san'. He didn't act weird or sad either.

               So why did it hurt so much?

               Kakashi felt like he was missing something. Which made no sense whatsoever, because he and Iruka never were a thing to start with.

               Iruka was right, he didn't want a soulmate. Never wanted one. The lingering thought that he would hurt whoever it was or that he didn't deserve any happiness present on his mind since he was a kid.

               Yet there he was, hurting and wanting to go after him.

               He's better off without me, Kakashi reminded himself once again.

               *

               It took Kakashi almost a month to put his finger in what exactly bothered him so much. He came to two conclusions.

               One: Iruka was a good liar.

               The scene of him leaving with a smile played again and again in Kakashi's mind, haunting his dreams and following him through the day. It hurt, like being rejected on repeat, nonstop. A cruel thing, really, like his mind enjoyed torturing itself.

               But then he payed attention to details, like he should have done since the beginning. Like any good jounin would have done. Iruka left with a smile, and it looked real, but he wouldn't meet Kakashi's eyes. And his tone was too cheerful, as if he was trying to compensate for something.

               Every time he bumped into Iruka (accidentally at first, deliberately later), he saw it. The hesitance, the too-happy smile, the eyes wandering around but never quite meeting his eyes. The lingering touches and the sad look on Iruka's face when he thought Kakashi wasn't looking.

               Iruka lied to him when he said he was okay with parting ways. Lied when he said he understood Kakashi's wish, when he made it so easy to ignore everything and leave.

               Two: Kakashi had grown up.

               This one should be pretty obvious, yet it took him weeks of introspection to realize it. He had just... Grown up. Made peace with everything that happened. It still hurt, and he still caught himself sobbing after nightmares or feeling guilty, but he knew, deep down, that it was not his fault. And no one would die just for loving him. It was a childish idea.

               He spent years pushing away the idea of a soulmate, but he couldn't picture Iruka dying because of him. He knew Iruka could stand his ground just fine and, even if he couldn't, Iruka was far better than him at reaching out for help.

               And Kakashi deserved some love too. He blushed at the thought, but he knew he had to tell it more to himself. He deserved it. Iruka deserved it too, if he still wanted Kakashi after the shitty way he dealed with the situation.

               Well, just one way to find out.

               *

               "Oh, hello, Kaka— Hatake-san," Iruka smiled at him, like he always did, that fake yet convincing one.

               "Kakashi is fine, Iruka," Kakashi felt bold. Or at least maybe he would if he faked well enough, "I, uh, wanted to talk to you. In private. Mind if I pick you up after you're done working?"

               "I—," was Kakashi delusional or was it a faint rosy blush on Iruka's cheeks? "Fine, you can pick me up here in two hours. Sound good?"

               "Sounds perfect!" He grinned and with the last of his bravery added, "it's a date then."

               Iruka made a choking sound and Kakashi left with the goofiest smile.

               *

               Kakashi's place was different from Iruka's. Tidier, nothing out of place, but with a thin layer of dust on the less used things and too much free space. It wasn't as homey. Kakashi found himself missing the messy couch and thrown around clothes and books.

               "So, let me set it straight," Iruka gave him a pointed look, "you decided you want a soulmate after trying to run away and pretending nothing happened for a month. And you want to take me on a date," He briefed.

               Kakashi nodded, it seemed like an accurate description. He could unwrap all the insecurities and emotional baggage later.

               "Fine," Iruka pressed the bridge of his nose, "took you long enough. I don't even know why I try to make sense of it."

               "That easy?" Kakashi was a bit surprised, "I had prepared a speech and everything. Scribbled a half-decent poem," he threw some crumpled papers on the table. Iruka chuckled a bit.

               Good. He wanted to see his genuine smile.

               "If I wasn't willing to, I wouldn't have bothered to patch you up in the first place," He explained, "idiot," he said as an afterthough, but in the same fond tone he used before.

               Kakashi found himself smiling too.

               "Well, what about dinner tomorrow then? Anywhere you want."

               "Oh, I have a better idea," the smile on Iruka's face was a bit devilish now, "just meet me at my place tomorrow. Let's say... At seven?"

               "Deal," Kakashi really shouldn't have ignored the chill on his spine at the evil grin.

               *

               "That's your idea of a nice first date?" He whined, his wrist hurting from writing too much.

               "That's your idea of good penmanship?" Iruka retorted, giving him yet another blank report to fill, "We are almost there! Just two more," he said a bit more encouragingly.

               "We? What exactly are you doing?" He handed another complete and pristine form to Iruka.

               "Moral support," he didn't miss the slight jest on Iruka's voice.

               Accepting his fate, Kakashi sighed and prepared himself for a night of writing down mission details he just vaguely recalled whilst Iruka criticizes his calligraphy.

               "Don't sulk like that. I have some ice cream in the fridge. We can have it after you're done," he used his slightly-less-stern teacher voice. The one he used to bribe the pests to finish their homework so they could play.

               "My hand is killing me," Kakashi said with a dramatic flair, "you'll have to feed me, sweetheart," he mocked, making Iruka laugh at both the exaggerate whining and the sappy nickname.

               "You're impossible," Iruka rolled his eyes, which, Kakashi noticed, was not a 'no', "Does it mean you'll go to the hospital now after being stabbed at least?"

              "Never," he replied with a grin, "that's what I have you for now, right?"

              The glare he received wasn't enough to spoil his sudden good mood.

*

*

*

It was fun to write! And can fit in three prompts! (soulmates, first date, friends to lovers). That bit was mostly accidental I swear! It just happened.

I don’t think i’ll try my hand on other prompts, but it was fun! That’s my first time in a writing challenge. Thanks for @kakairu-rocks for the funny prompts and for answering my questions!

Also, you can thank @kakairuincorrectquotes for single-handedly giving me the headcanon Kakashi will never, ever go to the hospital after being stabbed. You’ll have to pry it from my hands now!

Bye. ♥