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nanamicide · 4 years

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Red Butterflies - chapter 1

This is my attempt at getting back into writing and at Kamunami. I hope you enjoy!

This is basically an AU in which Sakakura told Munakata what he knew about Junko.

Summary: Chiaki Nanami hasn’t seen Hajime Hinata in over a year, and she’s finally decided to move on.

Read on AO3

The sun was about to set when Chiaki Nanami finally gave up and decided to head back to her dorm. Despite the sunlight hitting her face, she wasn’t feeling warm or grateful for the beauty of the moment. There once was a time when she would look at the sky turning orange, basking the buildings that made up the academy in majestic golden light, and she’d think about how lucky she was to be witnessing that moment. But that feeling was gone. It had slowly left her, along with him. She had to face it: he wouldn’t be joining her anymore, no matter how long she waited. It had been over a year since she’d last seen him, after all. And yet, part of her still hoped that she would see him again. That even if she hadn’t managed to work up the courage to tell him how she felt, she would get the chance to make up for it eventually. Wrapping her fingers around her backpack straps, she sighed. It hurt, but she wouldn’t wait anymore. Hinata-kun wasn’t coming back. She knew it.

The sun continued to set, and Chiaki stared at the ground as she slowly walked towards the place she’d been calling home for the past two years. She tried to remember their last encounter, as if it could hold some sort of answer. But just like every night for the past year, the list of questions she needed to find a response to only grew bigger with every effort she made to ease her pain. It was true that a lot had happened in the year he had stopped showing up to play video games with her, but it all seemed completely unrelated to what had been going on with them. Almost as if they had nothing to do with it. This meant that whatever she was looking for lay in her memory of the last evening they’d spent time together. There was only one problem: as time went by, that memory was fading away. She remembered everything about him, from how the color of his suit and hair made his green eyes stand out, to his smile and the way he would chuckle every time she beat him at video games. If she focused just hard enough, she could still hear his voice, and her heart would start beating faster when she’d recall the way he would say her name. But she couldn’t remember anything she’d done or said. There was something so special about him. And that special thing, even though she had no idea what it was or what to call it, had made her feel as though she was drunk every time she’d spent time with him. And because of that, she couldn’t remember what had pushed him away from her.

She walked in her room, kicked her shoes off and closed the curtains to avoid the golden light that painfully reminded her of him.

“I’m home,” she spoke softly, as if to snap herself out of her thoughts.

She was grateful that there was nothing special about her room. Other than the few video game posters she’d hung over the time she’d spent here, it looked just like any high school student’s dorm room. That was what she liked so much about it. She could just sit here for hours, playing the games she liked so much without being reminded of how special she was for attending Hope’s Peak Academy and being class rep. It was true that when it had first happened, Chiaki was thrilled with both of these opportunities, especially the latter. But now without Hinata-kun around, it felt like a sham when she was at her lowest. What was so special about her if the only guy she had ever felt anything towards had been able to completely cut contact with her out of nowhere? Sure, she was good at video games and remained undefeated, but that was all there was to her talent. In a way, she thought it was all there was to her as a person, and she hated it. He’d made her feel different, confident almost, and she missed it. She missed him. That was why she had kept the habit pf waiting for him near the fountain every day after he classes ended, even a year after he had stopped showing up. She longed for him, and for all the things he’d made her feel in their short time together.

No more of this, she thought. Sure, every moment I’ve spent with Hinata-kun was amazing, but I can’t keep feeling this way. I didn’t do anything to him. I tried my best to help him and to make him feel like his lack of talent didn’t mean anything to me. It’s not my fault he stopped hanging out with me. It’s not my fault the feelings were one-sided. Chiaki took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. It’s just a shame he disappeared a few days before the academy finally started changing for the best. It’s probably why it’s so hard to move on. I don’t know what he’s up to, and I don’t know if Munakata-san’s way of running things has helped him. I hope it has, and I wish I could see it for myself. I wish I could give him back what he’s given me, even though he’s taken it all away so abruptly.

She crashed onto her bed and closed her eyes. Even though she couldn’t help herself, she knew it was pointless to keep thinking about it. She had to move on now and let her life go back to normal. That’s why she’d made her decision: this evening was the last time she’d wait for him by the fountain. She had waited long enough. Besides, it was about time she’d stop neglecting her class rep duties. She slapped her cheeks and sat up. If she’d just try, things would turn out okay, right? Hinata-kun may have abandoned her, but Yukizome-sensei and her classmates had chosen her as class rep, and regardless of how she’d been acting since he stopped showing up to their gaming sessions, that hadn’t changed. She had to gain back that confidence her first year at Hope’s Peak had given her. And to make that happen, she knew she had to look back on her time with him as a positive experience that had helped her grow as a person, rather than as something she needed in her life to feel good. Of course, all of this was easier said than done, and she knew it as well. But she would still try. She finally felt ready. It was as though deciding to stop waiting around for Hinata-kun to come back had lifted a huge weight off her chest; a weight that had been keeping her from having the strength to move forward and keep growing for a year.

Figuring that it was enough introspecting for the day, Chiaki grabbed her gaming console and turned it on. For now, she would just do what she did best. But since today marked the day she finally gave up on Hinata-kun, she would do something she hadn’t done in a year. She would play with someone else, and she would beat them. Games are fun, she smiled to herself. I can enjoy and share them with people who aren’t Hinata-kun. Focusing on the bright screen and smashing the controls almost rhythmically, Chiaki did just that. She hadn’t played against someone else in what felt like forever, but she was happy to notice that it hadn’t gotten boring, even though Hinata-kun would never be her opponent again. However, that specific match didn’t last long.

“Huh? I lost?” Chiaki’s eyes widened. She had never lost against anyone else before. There was a reason why Hope’s Peak Academy had recruited her as the Ultimate Gamer. Well, maybe I was just too lost in thought to win this one. She quickly opened the chat room and typed in two simple words: Rematch please? She wanted to know if there now was someone who was better at video games than she was, or if she had really just been too distracted by all the introspecting she had done earlier. She was practically sure it wouldn’t be the former, but she entertained the thought as she waited for her opponent’s reply. What exactly would she do? Would she be just another high school girl? Would she have to leave Hope’s Peak?

The sound of the chat notification brought her attention back to the screen. The words ‘No. This is boring.’ had appeared, and she couldn’t believe it. Had she really been so bad that the person she’d been playing against had been bored the entire time? She quickly typed an apology, explaining that she would be more focused this time and promising that the rematch wouldn’t be boring. A few seconds later, the stranger obliged and started another game. Chiaki sat up, furrowed her brow, and gave it her all. She couldn’t let anyone believe that the games she loved so much were boring, especially not after playing against her. But no matter how hard she tried, she lost again. She was confused. It’d never happened before. How could this person beat her twice in a row?

It wasn’t long before the chat notification snapped her out of her thoughts again. And once again, the screen read a short and simple sentence: ‘As expected, I won. Boring.’ Chiaki felt slightly frustrated. Sure, she’d stopped playing with other people after Hinata-kun had disappeared, but she had kept playing on her own. There was no way she’d just become bad at video games. She replied, asking the opponent if he wanted to try another game. In a way, no matter how frustrating this was, she had to admit she also felt excited about it. There was something thrilling about not knowing whether she’d win or not. That didn’t mean she hadn’t had fun every time she’d played with her classmates, but this was different. And right now, she liked different. Routine was comforting, but something new would make it easier to move and stop brooding over what happened a year ago. Once the stranger accepted to play another game, she hurriedly sent them a friend request. Izukura, huh? If I just try, if I give it my best, I’ll win. And you won’t be able to call this boring a third time.

This went on like this for hours, until the mysterious Izukura disconnected and stopped responding to her messages. However, Chiaki wasn’t bothered by it. For the first time since Hinata-kun had left, she had fun playing video games. It didn’t matter that she’d lost every single match they had played together. She was only grateful that she got to experience this. And to think I could have experienced this a few months ago, if only I had chosen to move on. How silly am I? She got off her bed and opened the curtains. The golden light of the sunset had given place to the dark shades of the night. Chiaki looked up at the moon and thought that the scenery was just as beautiful as the one she was used to meeting Hinata-kun in.

#kamunami #izuru kamukura x chiaki nanami

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sloshi · 5 years

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Sasusaku Fanfic - Prologue

Title: Captain!

Pairing: Sasusaku

Summary: Passing lewd notes in class is all fun and games—that is, until it smacks a certain baseball captain upside the head. Japan!highschool AU [will be Slow burn / eventual smut]

Read Chapter 1 preview here

Prologue

“—recognizes the cell as the basic unit of life, genes as the basic unit of heredity, and evolution as the engine that propels the creation and extinction of species. Living organisms—“

Sakura blinks heavily, tuning out her teacher’s lecture with shameful ease. With her chin resting sleepily in her hand, she glances at the clock above the chalkboard, nearly rolling her eyes in dread when she sees that the minute hand hasn’t moved nearly an inch since the last she checked. Which was like an hour ago.

(Okay, so maybe it was like a minute ago, but seriously, come on.)

She drums her fingernails impatiently against the wooden desktop, blatantly ignoring the glare from the guy next to her, who’s shooting laser beams with his eyes at her tapping fingers, annoyed.

Green eyes trail lazily back to Kakashi-Sensei, a teacher she’s almost positive has a porn-addiction if the orange book that is always sticking out of his back pocket is any indication. Sakura scrunches her nose in disgust—It’s no wonder he’s teaching Biology. A shudder runs down her spine.

She debates whether or not she should sneak a nap. There’s still twenty minutes left of class, and honestly? She knows this stuff already. She’s read the textbook—all three-hundred and twenty pages of it, and Sakura is more than ready for the test this Friday. Maybe she’s an overachiever (an over-doer, if you will), but if she’s going to be a doctor one day, she has to be. There’s no half-saving someone’s life.

At least she doesn’t have to worry about falling behind, unlike her best friend who wouldn’t be a senior right now without her. She snickers to herself, remembering all the notes she had slapped onto Ino’s minty-blue bedspread two nights before the final exams last year.

‘You mean, I have to read all of these?!’ She had screeched, her face nearly purple with terror.

Sakura clapped a simple hand on her shoulder, smiling, unabashedly relishing in her misery. Maybe next time, Ino will actually study instead of poking fun at Sakura’s notes all the time now that she sees how much work she puts into them. You live and you learn, Ino-pig. ‘Yup!’

(Speaking of notes.)

Glancing down at her spiral notebook, her bubbly scrawl of handwriting takes up only half the page since she had abandoned writing about fifteen minutes ago. Pursing her lips, she stops drumming her fingers (she swears the guy next to her moans in relief.) and picks up her pen, drawing nonchalantly in the empty space. Mindlessly scribbling little spirals along the faint blue lines, she pauses when she suddenly finds herself doodling a familiar name.

Sasuke.

Baseball captain. Brilliant. Top-of-the-class. Perfect lean body. Tall, dark and handsome—you know, everything that shouldn’t be possible for one man be all at once. (It’s so unfair because nobody should be that perfect. Seriously.)

Despite his obnoxiously shining qualities, he’s quiet for the most part. Keeps to himself like he’s a secret. Or maybe he killed someone—it’s not like she’d ever know, since she the only stuff she knows about Sasuke is purely by rumor. They just happen to float her way, and honestly, it’s a little hard to ignore gossip that involves the baseball captain of KHS. Everyone knows him. Loves him, actually.

Okay, so maybe only the female population loves him. The males, however, are a different story—but they’re just jealous sore losers if you ask her. It’s not like Sasuke asked to be born that freaking attractive.

She’s also heard on several occasions that he’s actually antisocial—withdrawn to a point. He doesn’t attend activities outside of school, other than baseball, and he’s never seen at mixers or parties. In fact, the only person he’s really ever seen with outside of school is the catcher of the baseball team; Naruto Uzumaki. A blonde knucklehead of a guy she’s seen, heard of, but never spoken to.

(And even though Sasuke and Naruto were rumored to be gay, Sakura secretly hoped Sasuke was at least Bi.)

You’d think a guy like him would embrace his genes and take advantage of every opportunity he gets, considering the way he can literally make a whole room swoon just by entering.

But as far as she knows—or anyone knows—he’s never had a girlfriend. (Or boyfriend.)

Too bad it only serves to make him more interesting, if half the crooning girls of the school are anything to go by. Sakura likes him too, but she’s not screaming across the baseball field, clinging to the chain-link fence like a wild animal, asking to have his babies in the middle of his pitch. (True story. She was there. The girl was escorted off campus.)

After punctuating the last letter of his name with a little heart, she sighs wistfully and looks up, green eyes following the incline of desk rows downward where the very man himself sits at the edge of his row, diagonal from her perspective, whose quick hands are working away at his notebook diligently.

He’s as handsome as ever, she sighs to herself, as she studies the side profile of his perfectly unblemished face (he probably doesn’t even try!) His sharp raven bangs fall sinfully over equally dark eyes that are slightly narrowed in concentration as he writes languidly, following Kakashi-sensei’s lecture with ease. Sasuke pauses every once in a while to look up at their teacher, nodding curtly in understanding at whatever the silver-haired man is saying, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by the lecture, before returning back to his notes.

Sakura blinks in surprise, however, when Ino—who somehow managed an assigned seat next to the Uchiha, the conniving pig—turns her platinum blond head in her direction. Baby blue eyes squint mischievously, accompanied by a smirk that Sakura has learned to detest over the many years of their friendship, when her eyes flicker to Sasuke and back to Sakura. A smirk like that from Ino is nothing short of dangerous.

What, Sakura mouths impatiently.

Slender blonde eyebrows waggle suggestively and Sakura glares pointedly as if to say: Whatever you’re thinking about doing, Pig, don’t even try it.

Ino’s smirk only grows more wicked, eyes twinkling impishly when she swiftly turns back around and begins to scribble something in her notebook. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she studies the back of her best friend’s head with a frown.

Slowly, reluctantly, Sakura returns to her own notebook, picking up where she left off, but she’s only added a few more little hearts around Sasuke’s name before something light and airy smacks her forehead and bounces off to land directly upon her notebook.

What the—

She snaps her head up, eyes immediately finding Ino’s platinum ponytail. Despite not being able to see it, Sakura sends her a dark scowl and inwardly curses. Passing notes in class is a huge no-no; it’s an instant detention and maybe Ino doesn’t care about her perfect, unblemished school record but Sakura does ThankYouVeryMuch.

If she gets in trouble, Ino is so dead.

With a petulant huff, she finally looks down at the offending object. A crumpled ball of paper sits innocently upon Sasuke’s scribbled name. Kakashi-Sensei has long since turned his back to the class, his ever-boring monotone voice a mere drawl in the background as he jots something on the chalkboard, completely oblivious to the paper note that has soared half way across the classroom.

Sakura makes a face at Ino’s back one last time before she gingerly opens the wad of paper before her, almost afraid of what she’ll see. Maybe it’s a picture, she thinks. The paper crinkles a little loudly, and naturally, she flinches, but somehow luck is on her side—Kakashi-Sensei’s back is still turned. Sighing in relief, she quickly reads Ino’s sloppy note.

Don’t think I don’t see you eyeing Sasuke-kun, forehead girl. If you want his dick that bad, you could always just ask... too bad you’re such a prude. And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you. How bout it, Sakura?

A cute little smiley face punctuates the end of the sentence and it takes every ounce of control in Sakura’s body not to openly gape. Turning seven shades of red, she jerks her head to send the deadliest glare she can manage at her best friend, only for her simmering anger to amplify when she finds Ino smiling back at her, a hand over her mouth stifling laughter. (That witch!) Flustered, Sakura grinds her teeth together and snatches her pen, eager to put the pig in her place.

You’re disgusting. Sakura scribbles angrily, but then stops abruptly as an idea sprouts in her head. Two can play at this game, she whispers sourly to herself. Sakura will be damned if Ino thinks she can embarrass and tease her without getting a taste of her own medicine.

Oh, I’ll show her ‘prude’.

Smirking and feeling quite proud of herself, she promptly erases her first two words and begins to rewrite.

Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that. I bet you think you did something there, huh? You’re a real comedian. And speaking of prude, I’ve never seen you with a guy either. Why don’t you ask him out yourself? Hypocrite.

P.S. if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note, I’ll personally kill you.

Satisfied, Sakura draws a tiny passive-aggressive heart, crumbles the paper back into a wad and waits until Kakashi-Sensei turns around again. The second his back is turned, she hurls it through the air where it bounces against Ino’s shoulder and onto the floor. She hastily bends over to pick it up, skims it over, and throws Sakura an offended look over her shoulder.

Cha! Take that, Ino-pig!

Sakura childishly sticks out her tongue, inwardly pumping a fist in triumph. Ino can make fun of her all she wants, but at the end of the day, she’s really not one to talk. She’s never seen her best friend advance on a guy, and the fact that she’s hounding her for not busting a move on Sasuke Uchiha—the freaking baseball captain, of all people—is laughably ridiculous. Sure, she’s liked him for three years. But who hasn’t. It was a harmless, silly crush; something she’s never expected to grow into anything other than just that. He’s so far out of her league it’s almost embarrassing. They’ve never even spoken before, least of all looked at each other. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t even know she exists—at least, he pretends not to.

Sakura remembers all too clearly the day she once tried (with all the courage her hopeful heart could muster) to say hi to him. They had been the first ones to arrive in the classroom one morning, leaving them completely alone with each other. He had already been seated at his desk, writing something in his notes, clearly absorbed—oblivious to her entrance. Her palms had been so sweaty it was a wonder how she even held onto her notebooks.

“Good morning, S-Sasuke-kun.” She had greeted cheerfully (nervously), a one-thousand-watt smile lighting her face like a Christmas tree. Heart thundering, she clenched her notebooks to her chest, face blossoming as pink as her hair as she waited for him to acknowledge her as she casually passed him by.

He hadn’t even looked up. (That jerk!) But when she had settled into her desk, deflated and deeply humiliated that she had been disregarded so easily, so rudely, it was only then that she had noticed the earbuds in his ears. Her chest flooded with relief. He probably hadn’t even heard her.

Maybe next time, he’ll notice me.

But there had never been a next time. Sighing heavily at the memory, she is ripped from her thoughts when a crinkled ball of paper plops onto her notebook again. Sakura takes in a deep breath, not even bothering to look over at Ino—who, Sakura would bet a million dollars, was smirking with glee. She unfurls the note as quietly as she can manage.

Yeah, I bet you would love for him to do more than that, wouldn’t you. And I may not have ever been with a guy, but at least I’ve been kissed. What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. Get a fucking move on, already. The suspense is killing me. Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.

P.S. Kakashi-Sensei can suck my dick.

Eyes nearly popping out of her skull at that last sentence, Sakura hunches forward protectively when the guy next to her scowls in disgust, as if he read the note himself over her shoulder. Arms still shielding the crinkled paper from unwanted eyes, Sakura chances a look at Kakashi-Sensei before she furiously writes back.

For gods’ sake! What if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note by accident! Also I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . But don’t you dare bring up my virginity, pig. I bet Sasuke-kun doesn’t even know my name—

“—Sakura?”

She nearly jumps out of her seat, startled like a child caught with an arm halfway in the cookie jar.

“M-Mitosis!” She blurts without thinking, only to shrink in mortification when the rest of the class explodes in peals of laughter.

Kakashi-sensei quirks a single visible eyebrow in what she assumes is surprise (nobody can really tell what kind of expressions he makes under that weird medical mask and eyepatch anyway.)

Sakura feels forty pairs of eyes on her back, and every head in the front two rows have turned, craning their necks to see the face of the unlucky person who has just embarrassed themselves.

Including Sasuke.

Over his shoulder, he looks right at her; expression as blank as a sheet of paper. She stares right back at him, blinking in astonishment, because it’s the first time they’ve ever made eye contact. And it’s so intense—piercing, even. Like two black holes sucking her in and crushing the oxygen from her lungs with their devastating gravity. Butterflies flap wildly against the walls of her stomach; she thinks she might hurl her breakfast across the room.

When his dark brows furrow marginally (she needs a magnifying glass to be sure) in confusion, her breath hitches violently, and suddenly she feels as naked as a mole rat. Heart stuttering, chest heaving, face flooding with heat, Sakura quickly tries to calm down.

Well if he didn’t notice me before, he definitely notices me now!

“Sakura?” Kakashi-sensei’s usual monotone voice is now laced with concern. She snaps her gaze back to the teacher, mumbling a quick apology before lowering her eyes in shame. The silver-haired man studies her for another moment, as if he’s hesitating whether to ask if she’s alright (as if he’s questioning her sanity), but resumes his lecture after a quiet murmur of ‘Pay attention next time.’

It occurs to her immediately what Sasuke’s first impression of her must be now. She’s just made a complete idiot out of herself in front of the whole class. All because of . . .

Sakura narrows her eyes into dangerous slits, shifting to glare at a certain blonde pig. But she’s not facing Sakura. No. She’s staring straight ahead at the chalkboard, a little too casually to be genuine, twirling a strand of her blonde ponytail nonchalantly. ‘Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything.’ Ino’s body language says.

Sakura’s fists clench on the table top. She’s positive a deadly miasma is radiating off her at this point, because the guy next to her scoots a few inches away.

“S-Scary . . . “ she thinks she hears him whisper.

Snatching her pen, she scowls down at the crinkled note as if her very eyes could set the paper on fire, before erasing the last sentence she wrote and picking up where she left off.

—are you happy now, pig? Are you? Because you’ve just totally ruined everything with this stupid note. Sasuke-kun probably thinks I’m a dumbass, now. No thanks to you. There goes my chance.

P.S. don’t talk to me for the rest of my life. I hate you.

With that, she balls up the wad of paper with more force than necessary and, as Kakashi-sensei turns back to the chalkboard, she chucks it with all her might across the room, watching with pure satisfaction as it soars downward like a projectile missile—

—only for it to violently smack the head of a very raven-haired baseball captain.

Sakura claps a palm over her gaping mouth to stifle her petrified shriek of terror.

(Oh gods! Oh fuck! No way—!)

She sinks down into her seat immediately, as low as she can physically go, eyes wider than the moon in absolute horror. (Oh gods. Holy shit. No, no, no, no! God, please don’t pick it up—please, please, please—)

Sasuke whips his head behind him, obsidian eyes slit with anger, searching murderously for the culprit as he rubs the side of his head where he was just unforgivably assaulted. Sakura keeps her eyes trained on the notebook before her, nostrils flaring and swallowing roughly against the lump in her throat. Trying to remember everything that was written in the note, she cringes fiercely, her whole body shaking with trepidation. She thinks she might be sick.

‘And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you.’

‘Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that.’

‘What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. . . Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.’

‘And I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . ‘

Attempting to swallow again, she gathers the courage to sneak a peek at her impending doom, only for her heart to plummet into her stomach when she sees him finally bend over and pick up the offending wad of paper on the floor by his feet.

Sakura squeezes her eyes shut, bringing a hand to her face in utter mortification, but not before catching the terrified look on Ino’s face as she realizes what has just happened.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip painfully. There’s no coming back from this. Nope. She can’t even open her eyes. Oh, gods. The sound of light crinkling paper has her sinking even further in her seat. If only the floor could swallow her up.

A few tense seconds tick by, but she’s still too afraid to open her eyes. She knows (she knows) he is reading it. He’s reading it right now.

Goodbye, cruel world. It was fun while it was lasted.

Cracking an eye open, a new tidal wave of humiliation washes over her when she physically sees the note unfurled in his hands. Nope. Mm-mm. This is so not happening. She crosses her arms over the desk and buries her head in the nook of her forearms, wishing and praying and hoping to all the gods that are listening that Sasuke doesn’t hate her. Because, surely, after reading a note like that, he will be so disgusted by her that just looking at her pink head will make him hurl. She probably sounded like such a creep!

Tears prickle her eyes. She never should have entertained Ino’s stupid antics. She should have known.

(You live and you learn.)

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Sakura finally lifts her head up, only to startle forcibly when bottomless black eyes lock with hers.

He’s staring at her shamelessly over his broad shoulder, eyes peeking through his dark fringe, the incriminating note still open in his hands in all its wanton glory. Her lips tremble and she’s positive she looks like a deer caught in headlights.

The bell rings suddenly, ripping through the air and shattering the moment instantaneously. (Oh thank god!) Sakura jumps out of her seat faster than lightning, scraping her notebook into her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder so quickly she almost smacks the guy next to her across the face with it. Kakashi-sensei is announcing something as everyone is gathering their things, but right now she really doesn’t care. Galloping down the stairs between the rows of desks, bumping shoulders with people she doesn’t bother apologizing to, she books it—runs like hell to the door and into the hallway (sweet, sweet freedom) before even Ino can catch up with her. She doesn’t look back.

And she doesn’t see the pair of onyx eyes that follow her out the door.

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Thoughts? I have around 10k words into this story right now, and I am curious if it peaks anyone’s interest :P ciao!

#sasusaku #fanfiction #au #highschool #sasuke x sakura

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houseki-no-suffering · 6 years

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Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: Happy v-day! Time for an old acquaintance to finally show up, I wonder who they might be. As always, ty to @lapishead for betareading this chapter so i could put it up today. Enjoy!

As it turned out, Dia hadn’t known that Phos was back in town. Now they had a lot of opinions about it and, in the name of friendship, they proceeded to instruct Cinnabar about them in detail. It was just a couple of days after Cinnabar had talked with Euclase, way too early to recover from the excess of social interactions.

At least, the painful conversation included tea and cookies. The tea had soon turned cold, but the cookies had been especially good. Zircon’s recipe, Dia said, before they began to illustrate a few of their opinions about Zircon as well. When Diamond got to the topic of how Zircon’s talent was wasted at Yellow’s kennel and about how they should really think of opening a bakery, Cinnabar had stopped listening.

Yet, the majority of Dia’s opinions had concerned the town’s most recent hot news and Cinnabar thought it ironic, if not sad, that Dia had managed to unknowingly suggest that Shinsha do the exact opposite of the advice Bort had given.

Many of Diamond’s words were coming straight from projection, from an idyllic mental place where family members and friends were miraculously mature. A world where people could give each other a second chance without a fear of being torn to pieces by hurt. A world of people that fought for affection because they had accepted how precious it was.

Even as Cinnabar mulled over Dia’s words, they could taste a similar sense of regret. As with any philosophy, it sounded great in theory, as if it was the only possible way to look at the world, but it crumbled to nothingness the moment you tried to put it into practice, crashing against the wall of reality. Or Cinnabar’s thick fortification of insecurities.

It felt like the umpteenth failure and in a second they were aware of their own loneliness again.

They remembered that Diamond must be feeling lonely too, now, having lost both Bort and a roommate in such a short time. It called for some sympathy, but Cinnabar had no intentions of moving back in, not when they had managed to unpack one box.

It still made Cinnabar feel guilty, though, so they resolved for awkwardly patting Dia’s shoulder, as if Cinnabar had not been the one to look for comfort between the two of them. In the process, they might or might not have dropped the news that Bort was coming over in a month; not the best change of topic.

Dia had a unique way of looking dreadfully relieved though their smile didn’t quite reach their eyes. The worst thing was that it made Cinnabar project again and, as they walked back home, their mind suggested that maybe they should be a mature person and work on their issues with Phos.

It was nothing more than an intrusive thought and it only made Cinnabar’s chest tighten with more resentment. So they shoved their hands inside their pockets, praying for the universe to finally grant their wish of disappearing.

Thankfully, the beginning of the academic year did wonders for Cinnabar’s overthinking. Alexandrite too did their best to find new and tedious occupations to fill Cinnabar’s days with- like reorganizing the whole archive alphabetically. A wondrously pointless job that kept Cinnabar’s mind busy with names and dates for two whole weeks, at the end of which they remembered they had still to get their hands on this year’s textbooks for university.

The feat turned out to be harder than expected. Even though Cinnabar was still a second year student, some of their books could not be found in Alexandrite’s endless supply of academic texts. So Lexi offered to contact a few old acquaintances in the capital and have the manuals shipped.

That took a couple more weeks, during which Cinnabar alternated between feeling anxious about old blue haired acquaintances and the fact that their academic career was at a standstill. When Lexi finally told them that the books had arrived and Cinnabar realized that they had still not run into Phos, they processed it as a double miracle. Maybe the idiot had left again for good.

After their adventurous journey to Cinnabar’s small town, the books finally landed at the post office, a small building with light blue walls not too far from Peridot and Sphene’s laboratory, in the city’s Old Town.

The old town was an antique cluster of old buildings and ruins perched on a rocky hill, at the edge of the modern town, overlooking the sea. Here, bushes of brambles and nettles sprouted intrepidly in between bricks of tuff, crumbling them with inexorable indolence. It gave the atmosphere a powdery, earthy feel and made the old town look like a medieval village, even if the whole city was little more than a century old.

The streets especially smelled like history and folktales, with their rows and claustrophobic narrowness. They went up and down, curving at impossible angles, opening over hidden courtyards, offering shelter to stray cats and children playing hide and seek. And there were parapets from which you could face the sea and part of the town below, letting the dusty wind blow between your hair and fill your lungs with its tales.

This part of the city had been the most damaged by the war, a large number of buildings had been abandoned, hollow ghosts to remember the families that had lived within their walls. It was one of the reasons Cinnabar and the others did not venture up here often. Those who wanted to rebuild, would do so in the new town.

Halfway through their ascent, the road became too steep to keep riding and Cinnabar dismounted from their bicycle. It would be hard to carry it around after they had picked up their books, so Cinnabar left it behind and proceeded afoot. Once their arms were full of manuals, they thanked their past self for their thoughtfulness.

Cinnabar could not keep their mouth from twitching. They felt a little uneasy about the time lost, but studying differential equations would at least give Cinnabar a good justification for staying awake at night.

They turned another corner and the road opened on one of the old town’s parapets. It was a small semicircular square hovering over the modern town, over the part with the institute and the dormitories where Cinnabar had grown up.

Someone was leaning on the solid rock bricks of the parapet. They were looking below as if lost in thought, a jacket lay forgotten to their right. Their arms extended over the stone and it seemed like their gaze was fixed where the institute would be. It took a few second for Cinnabar to recognize them.

Phosphophyllite decided to turn their head in that exact moment, as if reacting to the weight of Cinnabar’s stare.

Their hair was the first thing Cinnabar noticed. It was shorter, darker. Time slowed down, Cinnabar couldn’t take their eyes off Phos, trying to retrace old familiarity beneath the person that was standing in front of them now, categorizing differences and memories until the idea of Phos clicked in their mind and the whole world around Cinnabar seemed to shift and spin.

Phos was looking at them too now. Their mind was retracing the same route of Cinnabar’s, registering the way their face had changed, their skirt, their books, their hair. The way Cinnabar was looking at them as if they wanted to run away but their feet had been glued to the ground, becoming one with the stone. The pieces fell into place much sooner: Cinnabar’s appearance had not changed that much.

All of a sudden, time resumed its regular flow. Phos’ hands left the parapet, they straightened their back, their lips parted and then closed again, they extended their arm towards Cinnabar in an attempt to reach them.

Cinnabar took one step backwards. They watched Phos stare back at them; they felt dizzy and nauseated again, just like when Euclase told them that Phosphophyllite was back in town. Their ears rang and had Phos been able to speak, they wouldn’t have heard a single word.

They took a second step backwards, their feet finally remembering how to move. They took one step, carefully, as if they could lose balance and precipitate in whatever void had opened around them.

Phos was still looking at them, immobile. Cinnabar cast their gaze to the ground and took another step, then another as they quickly walked away from Phos and from the piazza.

---

It felt unreal. The way Phos had been standing, their face, the way they were looking at the town. How dared they? How dared they walk among the ruins like that? How dared they come back after throwing everyone away?

Cinnabar felt so stupid for caring, for being angry. But how could they not when everyone else seemed perfectly fine with what Phos had done? Alex had taught Phos all they knew, Dia, Zircon and Bort had been their friends since they were too little to pronounce their own name. Sensei, Euclase, Yellow, Jade, everyone. Phos had thrown all of them away like it didn’t matter.

Wetness was prickling at the corner of Cinnabar’s eyes, the wind hitting their face and drying away tears before they could form. They pedaled faster, running down the road that led away from the old town. They only wanted to run, to rush, to get away.

How could Phos be so selfish? How could Cinnabar be so stupid?

They had cared, they had clung to the hope that Phos would come back, that they would write or call, that they would remember their promise. That Cinnabar was still important for them. And now the time to remember that was up.

They had met by chance. Phos had not even come looking for them. They didn’t matter anymore, and they should have known and they should be okay with that. They should have found other things to care about.

Looking so openly fragile, depending on someone else’s attention to feel good and valued was just pathetic.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #cinnaphos #cinnabar #phosphophyllite #1960s au #fic tag

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pain-somnia · 7 years

Text

A Gift From The Universe [1/?]

I feel silly for never having done this before but I think I’m going to publish chapters of my fics on tumblr as well. Here’s the first chapter of my new Non-Mass AU. Y’all are probably thinking “really? another f*cking non-mass WIP???” at this point. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: This story will utilize characters and situations that are the copyright of Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, and Viz Media. ChronicallyChill is in no way associated with the creator or producers of Naruto and no copyright infringement is intended. Obviously this is a fanfic meant solely for the entertainment of the fanfic author and (hopefully) it's readers.

next chapter

Chapter One: Hair

Pink. There was no way it could be real. Sasuke rubbed his eye with his little fist and his eyes narrowed at the short locks of pink hair. Yes, still pink. He blinked his eyes and grumbled inwardly to himself. If it were genjutsu he wouldn't be able to break out of it by himself quite yet.

Sasuke continued to watch the small girl with pale pink hair holding hands with her mother. She hid behind her skirt and her head kept turning in all directions as she was attracted to all sorts of sounds of the other kids at the Academy entrance.

At one point she turned and looked in his direction and Sasuke took a sharp inhale of air as he was met with vivid green eyes. The green reminded him of the forests that he ran in when he played with his older brother. Such an intense green he had never seen before.

And then green eyes were no longer looking at him but back to a group of Academy students that were chasing each other in front of the doors to the building.

"Pretty, huh?"

"What?"

Sasuke looked up and saw his mother smiling down at him, a sort of mischievous smile she gave him sometimes when she knew he was hiding something from her and found it amusing that he even attempted.

"Her hair. Such a beautiful color. Doesn't it remind you of cherry blossoms?" Mikoto asked wistfully, a faraway dreamy expression on her face. "You should talk to her. Tell her that you think her hair is pretty. Maybe you'll make your first new friend."

"I don't think her hair is pretty!" Sasuke blurted out, completely flustered. He puffed his cheeks out in a pout when his mother let out a little tinkle of a laugh at his expense. "It's true! I like hair just like kaa-san's."

Sasuke continued to sulk as he made his way into the building. Every so often he would take a sideways glance out of the corner of his eye to catch a flash of pink.

. .

Sakura. It was completely cliché but it was the type of name he knew his mother would adore. Not that he would tell her the name of the girl with the pink hair. Not unless she asked. Maybe not even then just in case his mother got it in her head that he liked Haruno Sakura.

Gross. Sasuke had better things to do like become a shinobi that could surpass his older brother and to get the acknowledgement he craved from his father.

He tried to tell himself that she was gross, like how all girls are gross, but when Yamanaka Ino becomes her first friend and she smiles more, he starts to get a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach.

I probably ate too many rice balls.

So sure that that was the reason, Sasuke nods to himself and carries on with what he was doing: hiding from Uzumaki Naruto.

His mother and her friend, his Auntie Kushina, had been pregnant around the same time and had hoped their children would be best friends. Sasuke just found him loud and obnoxious.

Sasuke liked Auntie Kushina and didn't understand when people told her Naruto was just like her. Naruto was only seven and he was already arrogant and at times had an entitled attitude, all because he was the son of the Hokage.

He assumed when Naruto displayed his more friendlier side and was kind that he was tolerable. Almost like his cousin Obito.

Sasuke just hoped he wouldn't be stuck with Naruto forever.

. .

Every single time she moved, her hair would sway with her. The movement was miniscule but it distracted Sasuke enough for his eyes to wander away from the blackboard and their lessons.

Sasuke was in the middle of watching the way the sunlight coming in through the windows shined on her hair when she turned around, green eyes on him. She looked at him for merely a second when her attention shifted to the person sitting behind him. She smiled widely and waved.

Sasuke grumbled inwardly to himself, chastising himself for the odd way his heart skipped when their eyes met. Of course she was waving at someone else. Her best friend, the Yamanaka girl, had chosen to sit behind him.

Just like how he had chosen to sit behind Sakura Haruno who always sat in a free seat in the front row, ready to absorb all the information she could.

Sitting next to her would have been too obvious. And sitting next to her meant he couldn't sneak inconspicuous peeks at her. Sasuke could just stare ahead and casually shift his gaze down to see her and the way her hair shined and shifted around her small frame.

Sakura's hair was longer than when he first saw her the day they entered the Academy. There was a small part of him that hoped it had something to do with the unfounded rumor that he liked long hair. That small hope was stamped out when she replied to gossiping girls that she was only growing it out because "Ino-chan is growing her hair out so why not?"

It didn't matter how long any of the other girls' hair was. His eyes were drawn only to pink.

. .

"What is he doing?"

Sasuke didn't bother to acknowledge that his brother was home, something rare for him.

"I'm not sure," Mikoto responded. "He came home and just slumped onto the floor. He's been lying face down ever since."

"That's new."

Sasuke grumbled against the floorboards but made no attempt to move or speak to either his brother or his mother.

Earlier that day when he was finishing up training on his own he found Sakura training in private, Ino and the other girls nowhere in sight. She was attempting to throw shuriken at a target. Her aim was lousy.

Sakura was a smart girl, always getting top marks in their written tests. Whenever their teacher asked a difficult question she had her hand up first, the second the question left the teacher's mouth. Usually she would be the only one that knew the answer.

Although she got top marks academically, when it came to field work she suffered. It looked as if she wasn't even trying at times.

Sasuke noticed that the way she held weapons was off. He only wanted to help. He had wanted to help but instead of being helpful he ended up just shouting at her.

"You're doing it wrong!" He blurted out.

When Sakura just stared at him with wide green eyes he felt his ears and the back of his neck heat up. They looked at each other for a moment, both of their faces flushed with embarrassment. Unable to take the awkwardness anymore, Sasuke bolted.

As soon as he got home, he fell onto the floor hoping to become one with it. If he was part of the floor he wouldn't have to go back to school tomorrow.

"Mikoto," Sasuke heard his father's gruff voice, "why is Sasuke on the floor?"

. .

Sasuke had his face down on his desk when all of the students were shuffling into the classroom. He hadn't wanted to come into school but his mother wasn't fooled by his sick act.

My life is over and I'm only eleven.

Sasuke was trying to become one with his desk when there was a small cough. He tried to will whoever it was that sat next to him away with his mind. He was a desk today, not a person, and refused to take part in any interaction.

A gentle prod on his shoulder forced him to turn his head so he could peer up at the foolish person that was trying to get his attention. At the sight of pink he sat up straighter.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Sasuke replied.

Sakura slid into the seat next to him and unpacked her stuff. As soon as her notebook and pencils were set neatly in front of her she crossed her arms on the desk and turned to face Sasuke.

"Y-yesterday," Sakura cleared her throat and took a deep breath, "yesterday you said that I was 'doing it wrong'."

Sasuke's neck heated up. Did she have to bring that up?

"If I'm doing it wrong I won't get better. Can you show me the right way? After class, that is."

What? That wasn't what Sasuke had expected to happen this morning when he got to class.

He must have been quiet for too long because Sakura's face became a deeper shade of pink and she tried to take back her request.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Sakura's eyes went wide in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, I said okay," Sasuke mumbled, tucking the lower part of his face into his high collared shirt."

"Oh! Okay." Sakura beamed and turned to face forward.

It wasn't until Iruka-sensei started the lesson that it really hit Sasuke that Sakura had decided to sit next to him for the day.

He wasn't able to sneak glances at her, but there was a pleasant floral scent on his right side.

It seemed that there was another part of Sakura's hair besides pink that intrigued Sasuke.

next chapter

Notes from Day: so this is the first multichap fic that I’m posting on Tumblr. I hope you guys will enjoy future chapters. I’m going to work on how to organize this fic as best as I can but you can always head over to FF and find my fics there, here’s a link (x).

#AGFTU #a gift from the universe #day!fics #ss fanfiction

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theclosetpoet7 · 7 years

Text

Akai Ito

One Two Three

"And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you." - Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars

Chapter Four

In Two Lifetimes

He goes through two lifetimes before he is reunited with his wife.

It is a gruelling process but one he thinks is worth it once he finally sees her.

The first time he gains consciousness after being engulfed by darkness, he knows that he isn't human. It takes him a while to realize that he had been reincarnated, initially chalking it up to a bad nightmare.

But once he has fully accepted the circumstances of this new life, he takes on a self-imposed mission.

To search for her.

To search for Uchiha Sakura.

So, the moment he is pushed by his supposed mother off the nest, Sasuke spreads his wings to fly out into the world. It is a scary feeling, falling down that tree. For a second he contemplates about just letting things be, to just die again because what would be the point if he lived his life as a hawk?

It is quite ironic, considering how he had once called his team "Taka".

However, as his downward speed picks up the pace, and he sees the ground coming closer and closer, the sun's rays blind his eyes.

The sheer amount of light reminds him of that last moment.

That final goodbye.

"We'll find each other again right?!"

Her trusting eyes flashes before him and by instinct he starts to flap his wings up and down.

Up and down.

So that he can fly.

He soars.

Once he has learned the essentials of living as a bird Sasuke starts searching for the love of his life.

He goes on for miles and miles.

Eat what birds eat.

Sleep where birds sleep.

Do what birds do.

He flies.

He looks for her.

Several years pass before he finally has that sinking feeling in this chest that perhaps this is not the world they are going to relive in, but he pushes through nonetheless.

In time, he starts looking for others too. Anyone that remotely resembled his daughter, a child with black hair and glasses. Anyone with blonde hair. Or silver.

Or during times when he feels desperate and a bit hopeful.

Anyone with black hair and obsidian eyes.

But the longer he searches, the more he succumbs to the fact that he may never be able to find anyone.

Still though, he is eternally grateful for the short life span.

Fifteen years isn't too long.

And as he lays dying of his old age, resting atop a high tree while praying to Kami-sama for the next life to be better, Sasuke shuts his eyes and lets out a dying breath.

It is an eight year old child who finds his body.

The little girl asks her parents if they can bury Bird-san, chubby cheeks puffing out as her father rushes back to the house to get a shovel.

She had pink hair, emerald eyes and a warm smile.

But she wasn't Sakura.

______________

The second life is even worse.

Because he lives it without the gift of sight.

It isn't as bad as he initially thought. There was a certain fear and apprehension there when he knows he's opened his eyes but can see nothing. But eventually, once his teacher has taken his hand in hers and has taught him the language of the blind, Sasuke thinks that it isn't that bad because at least he can use his limbs and other senses.

He can still walk to where she is.

He can still hear her laughter.

He can still smell her lavender shampoo.

And he can still taste her lips if he is lucky.

It's just another challenge, one he took for granted when he was once able to fly.

But the problem was,

He won't be able to spot her in a crowd.

Who knows if he'd passed her by one day, and simply didn't see her.

Those thoughts always bring a painful feeling in his heart but he allows himself to search for her anyway.

Because he had promised.

And she'd search for him too.

If she was in this life.

It ends the same way it starts, with him taken in by the darkness as his boat sinks upon hitting an iceberg.

As he clings onto floating debris and awaits for the rescue team, while at the same time hoping they won't come, Sasuke lets out a chilled breath.

It wouldn't be so bad, dying at fifty-two.

Considering how he has nearly forgotten what she looks like.

Except.

Pink hair.

Emerald eyes.

A warm smile.

______________

He puts a cigarette into his mouth and inhales it deeply.

He exhales with a sigh of irritation as his friend takes out a cup of his favorite noodles and starts gobbling them up like there's no tomorrow.

Uzumaki Naruto is in this life.

And though he is happy to see a familiar face, this Naruto leaning a bit on the heavier side but still essentially the same person underneath,

Sasuke still feels incomplete.

Of course he would, because he hasn't seen Sakura yet.

It's a normal life, one set in a world he thinks is high tech and modern compared to his previous ninja life style. But at least he thinks he's the same race as he was, considering he is familiar with the language.

He glances at the snow falling outside the dobe's apartment.

This person doesn't seem to remember a life before this one.

But Sasuke is sure, that part of Naruto's soul must be in him.

Where was Sakura though?

In this world he had his family, he had his best friend, he had his sensei, the rest of Rookie Nine, everyone was here.

Except for his wife.

He wonders if Kami is punishing him.

Perhaps it is a form of atonement for his past sins.

"Hurry up."

"Okay, okay, geez, you can be so anal about being late."

Naruto finishes his meal and pushes himself onto his feet, padding happily to a dresser and taking out two tickets.

"I didn't know you liked idols so much Sasuke."

He merely rolls his eyes.

"Nii-san bought them, and they're front row seats as he said."

"Megurine Luka, do you know any of her songs?"

He shakes his head in response, of course he doesn't. But Itachi had insisted that he go see this singer, had even promised that if he didn't like her then his brother will grow tomatoes for him in his vegetable garden.

It is a happy life, he supposes, because at least there is no massacre and he can be with his brother like he once had been.

He admits that he had spent the earlier part of it actually happy but greedy; greedy for his parent's attention, and greedier for his brother's.

He shrugs his coat on and walks alongside his former rival.

It's outrageous how a twenty-seven year old lawyer such as himself is going out to a concert meant for teens. It must be some sick joke his brother is playing on him.

But he feels something tugging at his soul.

And he feels it getting stronger the closer he gets to the stadium.

When the lights dim, and they take out their glow in the dark tubes, Sasuke ignores the screams of the fans around him.

Because the moment Megurine Luka comes onstage and greets the audience, he couldn't help but just stare.

Pink hair.

Emerald eyes.

A warm smile.

Two lifetimes.

He's gone through two lifetimes before seeing her again.

But when her eyes meet his, still standing in the front row, noticing no one but her,

Sasuke thinks that he'd go through many lives just to have this moment if he has to.

Because he knows she's here, in this life.

Finally.

And the way she was staring back at him with that loving expression tells him that he's found her.

He's found Uchiha Sakura.

______________

Author's Note: Megurine Luka is actually a vocaloid, but in here she's a real person. :D

#sasusaku #sasusaku+fanfic #sasusakufanfiction #sasusakufic

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 010 [Unfairness]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,552 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“There’s a demon inside. Just like Jekyll and Hyde. All this anger inside.” Five Finger Death Punch, “Jekyll and Hyde”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I could feel a presence hovering over me. “Don’t even think about it,” I muttered, opening my eyes to glare at Toshi. His hand was hovering by my cheek, ready to smack me awake.

“Oh, you’re already awake?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered, rising up like a corpse from a coffin. “I barely slept.”

“Excited?” he grinned.

“Something like that,” I glanced at the clock as I stood up, heading for the bathroom.

“I must be going!” he called. “I will see you at school!”

I flushed the toilet, heading over to the sink to wash my hands. Man, I look like shit. I splashed my face with cold water, hoping it would help to wake me up. Toshi was gone by the time I made it back to the couch. My phone buzzed on the table and I grabbed it, glancing at the clock again. It was only five o’clock and class didn’t start until eight-twenty-five. I took a shower last night so I just had to brush my teeth and get dressed. The phone buzzed again, then again a minute later.

With a scowl, I opened up the gaming app. There were five messages, all from Murder and sent within the last twenty minutes.

‘Oi, extra’

‘Wake the fuck up’

‘I cant sleep’

‘ARE U FUCKING IGNORING ME’

‘ILL KILL U BITCH’

Damn, this kid has some serious anger issues. I settled down under the covers, putting on my headphones and turning on some rock music before replying to him, ‘Keep ur damn panties on. I can give u the name of a good therapist seems like u need 1’

‘Fuck u’

I laughed, ‘When is ur bday? I can send u a diary to vent all that repressed anger fam’

‘FUCK U TACO!!’

I laughed again, tossing my phone onto the table. I closed my eyes, intending only to relax for a bit and listen to some good vibes, but the rock music thumping in my ears lulled me back to sleep.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I winced at the bright light shining directly on my fucking eyes. I really hate those sheer curtains. I pulled the headphones off my head and yawned, reaching for my phone. Eight o’clock. I yawned again, standing up and stretching my arms above my head. I hope there’s some Dr. Pepper left. I need to stop by the store after… school…

My eyes widened as the realization hit me.

School, fuck! I’m gonna be late on my first fucking day! Tosh is gonna murder me, ugh! I got dressed as fast as I could and ended up stubbing my big toe on the fucking coffee table which received an angry kick in retaliation, flipping over onto the floor with a loud thud. I grabbed my phone, shoved my feet into my sneakers and rushed out the door, only to rush back halfway down the stairs because I forgot to fucking lock the door.

It was eight-twenty-one when I made it to school. I stifled a yawn, tugging at the red tie around my neck. Every school I had ever attended was a public school with barely any rules regarding clothing – as long as no one showed up naked, anything was fair game. Being stuffed into this stupid ass uniform made me feel uncomfortable and even a bit claustrophobic, but at least Toshi had convinced Nezu to let me wear the boy’s uniform. I’d fucking drop dead before getting caught in that short ass skirt the girls have to wear.

“You’re late,”

I turned around and deadpanned. Aizawa was standing in front of me, his body completely hidden within a yellow sleeping bag, save for his face which was framed by fluffy black hair. “What the fuck are you wearing, Aizawa? That can’t be the proper apparel for a teacher.”

“‘Sensei,’” he corrected, hopping down the hall like a bunny.

I followed, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Do you know how stupid you look, though?” When he sent me a glare, I added, “Asking for a friend,”

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?”

Bitch, I ain’t the one hopping around in a sleeping bag, okay. I shrugged at him, looking away from his penetrating gaze. “Hey, Aizawa.”

“What,”

“I’m sorry,”

He stopped hopping, but I continued on, rounding the corner. A boy with a mop of messy green hair and a bright red face stood in front of the open classroom door, a round-faced brunette girl geeking out about some punch or some shit. One-Punch Man? Did that even exist in this world? I should head to the book store and see, cause that manga is lit.

I stopped in my tracks, feeling dread settle in my stomach. Wait, maybe it’s just because I didn’t eat breakfast. I noticed movement by my feet and sweatdropped at Aizawa as he inched along the floor like a fucking worm, stopping behind the two. No one noticed him until he spoke up, and the look of horror on their faces was priceless.

“If you’re just here to make friends, then you can pack up your stuff now. Welcome to U.A.’s hero course,” he sighed deeply, tugging down the zipper just enough so he could drink from a pouch of juice.

Aizawa, you’re a literal child and I fucking love it.

He stood up, pushing the zipper down the rest of the way so he could step out of the bag. “It took eight seconds before you all shut up, that’s not gonna work. Tims is precious. Rational students would understand that.” He waved his hand to me and I entered the room, glancing at the seating arrangement pinned to the board.

I’m in the very back row, an odd number. Guess that makes sense. I threw my bag onto my chair before leaning against the desk, my eyes scanning the room. I didn’t recognize anyone but two people. The first is Fumi, who wasn’t paying attention to me. And the second was that damn prep from the exam. Damn, why did he have to be put in this class?

“Hello, I’m Shouta Aizawa, your teacher.” He dug around in the bag and pulled out a gym uniform.

Okay, seriously – what is with the U.A. staff and having endless space? First, it’s Granny with damn endless gummy bear supply and now this fucker with an endless amount of space in a sleeping bag.

“Right, let’s get to it. Put these on and head outside.”

The students hesitantly headed to the locker rooms to get changed into the new uniform, which looked like something you’d wear to the gym. The first thing I did was check to see if the pants had pockets.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Aizawa looked over the group, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else but here. “We’re going to be doing a quirk assessment test,”

“But… what about orientation?” The brunette asked. “We’re going to miss it!”

“If you really want to make the big leagues, you can’t waste time on pointless ceremonies. Here at U.A., we’re not tethered to tradition. That means I get to run my class however I see fit. You’ve been taking standardized tests most of your lives, but you never got to use your quirk in physical exams before. The country’s still trying to pretend we’re all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel. It’s not rational. One day, the ministry of education will learn.”

That’s pretty deep, fam. I closed my eyes and grabbed my chin. I guess in a way it makes sense. It’s like participation trophies back home. Even if you didn’t do jack shit, you still got a trophy for participating, so even if you lost you still ‘won’. It prevents kids from trying their hardest to reap the rewards.

“Bakugo, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam.” He looked at the red-eyed blonde. “What was your farthest distance throw with a softball when you were in junior high?”

“Sixty-seven meters, I think.”

“Right. Try doing it with your quirk.” His eyes followed the blonde as he stepped into a circle drawn onto the earth with white chalk. “Anything goes, just stay in the circle. Go on, you’re wasting our time.”

“Alright, man. You asked for it.” Bakugo stretched his arm, clutching the modified softball. “DIE!!” The ball took off into the sky with an explosion propelling it.

Damn, son. That was a bit excessive but mkay.

“All of you need to know your maximum capabilities.” Aizawa’s phone beeped. “It’s the most rational way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero.” The screen on his phone showed 705.2 meters.

I whistled, folding my hands behind my head. That’s kinda impressive. I wonder how far I can throw it?

“Woah, 705 meters, are you kidding me?”

“I wanna go! That looks like fun!”

“This is what I’m talking about. Using our quirks as much as we want!”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “So this looks fun, huh?”

Oh boy, he’s about to get all dramatic again, ain’t he?

“You have three years here to become a hero. You think it’s all going to be games and playtime? Idiots,” He smirked, but it looked kinda sadistic. “Today, you’ll compete in eight physical tests to gauge your potential. Whoever comes in last has none, and will be expelled immediately.”

Called it.

Everyone started to freak out at the statement and I sighed, looking up at the clear blue sky. I had grown to know this man pretty well after spending every single day with him for months and I had no doubt in my mind that he would expel anyone he deemed unworthy. It sounds cruel, but I know he has his reasons, whatever the hell that was. I feel like, more than anything, he’s just trying to ruffle some jimmies. And it’s working.

“Like I said, I get to decide how this class runs.” He pushed back his bangs with his hand. “Understand? If that’s a problem, you can head home right now.”

“Pfffttt,” I tried so fucking hard to hold back my laughter, I really did, but the bitch looked like a little kid trying to act tough to intimidate someone older. He snapped his glare to me and I quickly turned my back to him, trying to control myself.

“Is there a problem, Winchester?”

The way he said my name told me that I was definitely going to get hit later. I coughed a few times, banging on my chest before turning around with my hand covering my mouth. “Ah, no, not at all, sensei.” cough cough. “Sorry, I’m recovering from a cold, don’t mind me.”

The other students were staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

“Wait a minute, you can’t send one of us home!” The brunette exclaimed. “I mean, we just got here! Even if it wasn’t the first day, that isn’t fair!”

Oh no. She said the F word.

“Oh, and you think natural disasters are? Or power-hungry villains, hm? Or catastrophic accidents that wipe out whole cities? No. The world is full of unfairness. It’s a hero’s job to try and combat that unfairness. For the next three years, U.A. will throw one terrible hardship after another at you. So go beyond -”

“Plus ultra style,” I stepped forward with a grin, locking eyes with him. I had heard the ‘fairness’ speech before, shortly after we started training together. He hated it when I used that word against him, and he always repeated the same thing each time, drilling it into my head that the world just isn’t fair. That isn’t something parents tell kids when they can’t have their way, it’s a real, life lesson that kids gotta learn the hard way.

He nodded at me, the corners of his lips twitching. He totally almost just smiled. “Show me it’s no mistake that you’re here. Now then, we’re just wasting time by talking. Let the games begin!”

“Jen~!”

I turned just as my vision was overtaken by a black and purple blur. My eyes widened, body seizing with fear as I remembered the darkness surrounding me. My breathing grew heavy as Gramp’s lifeless face flashed in my mind, my body beginning to shake as my skin grew hot. I could hear muffled voices, but only one stood out to me.

‘I have come to bring you home, Jen Winchester.’

“Jen!”

A familiar feeling settled over my body, like someone had slammed the door shut before my power could escape. My vision started to focus, settling on Fumi who stood in front of me in a defensive posture. Shadow hovered behind him, tears in his eyes as he stared at me in fear. I glanced to the left, scanning the scared and wide-eyed expressions of my classmates. And then I met Aizawa’s red, glowing eyes. He’s using his quirk… on me?

The block on my power ceased and Aizawa speed walked over to me. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, a small puff of smoke escaping my lips. My body was trembling, the pendant around my neck like a block of ice against my skin. He put a hand on my arm and helped me to my feet. When had I fallen to the ground?

“Go see the old lady,” he ordered into my ear.

“What? But – the test -”

“You don’t need to take it, just go.”

“I-I’m fine, really, Aiza -”

“I wasn’t asking,”

“Sensei, I can take her.” Fumi’s posture relaxed a bit as he stepped forward.

Aizawa was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

Fumi held his hand out to me and I hesitantly took it, feeling confusion bubbling within me. Did I… try to attack Fumi? But why the fuck would I?

He gently tugged on my hand, leading me toward the school building. I could feel everyone staring at us as we left and I just wanted to disappear. When we stepped into the building, he turned to me with soft eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Did I… try to hurt you?”

“I’m not quite sure…” He held his hand up to his mouth. “I believe Dark Shadow startled you and you blacked out temporarily. Your quirk may have activated as a self-defense mechanism.”

“Did you get hurt?” My eyes scanned his body, but he looked unharmed.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. You just startled Dark Shadow.”

Great, I’ve got fucking PTSD now because of that stupid ass shadow man. I put my hand on my face and huffed. “Sorry, Fumi…”

“No need to worry. Dark Shadow shouldn’t have rushed at you like he did.”

“I’m really sorry…” Shadow mumbled sadly, sticking close to Fumi’s shoulder.

I forced a smile, holding my hand out to him. He looked at it for a moment, looked at Fumi, and then back at my hand. Slowly, as if not to startle me again, he placed his clawed hand on mine. His cold body was calming against my warm skin. “Forgive and forget?”

He nodded happily, rushing toward me only to stop and shake his head. He approached slowly, nuzzling his head against my shoulder. I smiled for real this time, patting him before we continued on to the nurse’s office in comfortable silence, Shadow lingering between us.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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booksong · 7 years

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Fic Writers Week 2017 Day 2

The Muses: Writer Prompt

Home Screen: An Add New Contact Companion

In December of 2014, I wrote Add New Contact as a gift for a Haikyuu!! Secret Santa exchange. It was my first time writing Daisuga, my first time writing a full blown AU, and it was born from me coming up with a single line nearly every commenter seems to love: ‘Do it for the hot IT guy’. I never in a million years expected it to become as popular and apparently as beloved as it is now, and I’m deeply touched and honored by the love the fandom has shown it and me. For quite a while now I’ve toyed with the idea of giving it a short sequel just to peek back in, and then the Fic Writers Week Day 2 prompt came along asking for bonus content, and I figured that was enough of a sign.

So here’s Home Screen, a little companion ficlet to Add New Contact after nearly 3 full years. I hope my readers and followers, who have been so kind, patient, and supportive of my writing, enjoy it! It is also up on AO3 if you prefer to read there.

Daichi was sitting in his 8 a.m physiology lecture, passionately regretting this particular academic choice with every fiber of his sleep-deprived being, when he saw it.

He’d reached over his notes and tapped his phone idly to check how many more minutes of Horikawa-sensei’s droning about rhomboid muscles he’d have to endure, but the moment his home screen lit up to display the time (twenty more minutes), he froze. He put his phone back down flat. Very slowly, he leaned back in his seat, tipped his head back, and pressed both his hands over his face.

It was far too early for this kind of thing.

Daichi lowered his hands to find the girl a couple seats down his row giving him a look that hovered between concerned and uncomfortable. He gave her a pained smile that was probably not particularly reassuring, but he had his own problems at the moment. He resolutely turned his phone over so the screen was facedown on the desk, and forced himself, red-faced and tight-jawed, to take notes for twenty more long, long minutes.

When Horikawa-sensei finally dismissed them, Daichi fairly shot out of his seat, tossed his bag over his shoulder, and left the lecture hall walking double-time. He cut across the courtyard, wove around a knot of dead-eyed fourth-years clutching their coffees like lifelines, and made a beeline toward the university bookstore.

Gripped in the hand not holding the strap of his bookbag was Daichi’s smartphone. It was close to brand new, just four months old—screen uncracked, battery near-full, already packed with photos, apps, and his favorite music. It had never turned off on him when he needed it, and it had never been dropped from a second story window.

But it was, in its way, still giving him technical difficulties. Clearly, he needed to see an expert.

He had just taken his foot off the last stair and down onto the smooth polished wood floor of the bookstore’s lowest level when Tsukishima looked up and caught sight of him.

Daichi had been half-hoping someone one else would be working this morning—Yamaguchi, maybe, or even the IT desk’s newest recruit, a nervous little computer science student who was apparently excellent at diagnosing software issues when she could bring herself to look the customers in the eye and form complete sentences.

The look Tsukishima gave him was much more complicated than the simple disdain he tended to visit on the student customers who came in cradling headphones with frayed wires and blue-screened laptops. It wasn’t a particularly happy look…but at least it was perhaps quietly resigned. Daichi would take what he could get.

“Sugawara-senpai,” Tsukishima said blandly, lifting his eyebrows a fraction and maintaining eye contact as Daichi approached, “It’s time for my break.”

“Hmm?” said the other tech on duty, glancing up from where his feathery-haired head was bent intently over the keyboard of a whirring laptop. “Didn’t you just finish it a few minutes ag—oh.”

Sugawara Koushi, Daichi’s boyfriend of three months, two weeks, three days and now one morning class, closed the lid of the laptop in front of him and pushed himself around in his swivel chair. He leaned against the counter of the circular desk, propping his elbows up and resting his chin casually on one hand. It was a pose very reminscient of the first time Daichi had ever seen him, and he was probably doing it on purpose.

“Good morning, sir,” Suga said in his most cheerful customer service voice, “What can we help you with today?”

There was a brief moment when Daichi, fresh off an 8 a.m lecture and a minor heart attack, considered not playing along. But Suga’s eyes were grey-brown and warm and dangerously fond, and that thought didn’t last long.

“Well, you see,” he began, stepping up and placing his new phone on the counter between them. Tsukishima wandered away and sat down heavily in another one of the desk chairs, picking up a set of expensive-looking headphones and apparently ready to tune them out entirely. “I had a lecture this morning…a very early lecture that someone assured me I would be able to handle because I was ‘such a responsible student.’ But the thing is, I missed my alarm, so I was in a bit of a rush to class and wasn’t paying much attention to my phone.”

Suga nodded, his face fixed in the expression that Daichi was convinced could have won him any customer service postion on Earth, perfectly caught between genuine interest and innocent concern. “Sure, okay. Go on,” he urged, as if he didn’t already know where this story was going.

“So when I went to check the time during the lecture, I discovered that someone has apparently figured out my password.” Daichi nudged the phone forward, tipped it toward Suga, and dramatically tapped the home button.

The phone lit up, displaying the home screen. Yesterday, the background had been a stock photo of a mountain meadow, all waving grass and almost clinically distributed wildflowers.

Today, it was not.

Daichi knew exactly when Suga had taken the photo—about two weeks ago they’d had a movie marathon in Daichi’s room where they’d alternated picking titles, resulting in everything from a really emotional indie film to a hilariously bad horror flick to a documentary about the Olympics. It had been probably the most fun Daichi had ever had watching movies with anyone, although over the past couple months he’d discovered that was true of a lot of things done in Suga’s company.

Sometime during the fourth movie Daichi had started to fade. Leaning against Suga had been a thoughtless thing—first just their shoulders and arms touching, and then drowsily listing against him as his muscles relaxed further toward sleep.

And then Suga had simply made it into the most natural thing in the world by draping his arm around Daichi’s shoulders and tucking his head in the dip between Daichi’s shoulder and chest, like it was nothing. His hair smelled nice, like mint or coconut or something not fruity but still sweetish and pleasant.

Sometimes Daichi couldn’t believe this new chapter in his college life was real. Cuddling still felt like a revelation.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, of course, but he’d woken up a few minutes later to walk Suga back to his dorm one block over, still apologizing for being the one to drift off and end their movie session. It hadn’t occurred to him that anything had happened in the interim until he’d found the photo saved in his phone album.

Suga had taken it with the arm not wrapped around Daichi, who was practically nuzzling him, face half-buried in his temple. It was not a flattering photo of him, but Suga’s smile into the camera was sleepy-warm and fond, and Daichi thought he might have been smiling a little himself in his sleep. It was an honest kind of picture, maybe more so than the handful of couple selfies they’d taken so far. So Daichi had kept it.

And maybe pulled it up to gaze at more often that he wanted to admit.

But he’d never expected to have it as his background. That felt so public, so startling, like suddenly finding a poster that was hanging in your bedroom had been taped to your chest. It wasn’t that Daichi regretted or wanted to hide anything about Suga or their relationship, it was just that he hadn’t expected to be confronted with exactly how embarrassingly sappy Suga made him feel at 8 o’clock in the morning in the middle of a hundred of his peers.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid don’t see your problem,” said Suga now, apologetically, his grin finally threatening to overtake his playfully professional demeanor. He flipped the phone so it was facing him and pretended to frown assessingly at the photo. “It’s a great picture. If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, you look absolutely adorable when you’re asleep.”

“Suga.” Somehow Daichi was finding himself smiling too, although now he didn’t know why he’d thought he could genuinely find a way scold Suga about this. It was fine when he rehearsed it in his head, but being face-to-face with his boyfriend tended to make conversations he’d planned out ahead of time evaporate.

In that way, not much had changed since their technologically disastrous but ultimately effective courtship.

“Daichi, your stock wallpaper was boring,” Suga insisted.

“How did you even get into my phone?” Daichi shot back, unable to think of a good response to that—honestly he’d barely given his phone home screen a thought before today. “Did you use some hacking trick you learned here?”

“Your passcode is your birthday, which you told me on our third date. I don’t need to hack your phone.” Suga looked amused. He stretched idly, which always made his employee polo shirt pull taut in various and pleasing ways across his arms, chest, and shoulders. It was an extremely unfair tactic, especially since Suga now knew that Daichi had feelings about the polo and how he looked in it.

Daichi sighed, any residual exasperation deflated, and picked his phone back up to take another look at the photo. Now that he wasn’t surprised and surrounded by classmates, he could appreciate the flush of warmth seeing it there made him feel. He found himself smiling at it again, the way he had in private, at the way they curved into each other, already so easy and comfortable.

“You do like it then,” Suga said, his expression and tone both softening. “I was a little worried I’d overstepped again and you really were upset with me.”

“Considering if you hadn’t ‘overstepped’ the first time we might not be dating right now, I think I can forgive you.” Daichi checked to make sure Tsukishima was deeply engrossed in his music and homework and that there were no other students in the area before he leaned across the counter and kissed Suga briefly. Another thing he still couldn’t quite believe he could do anytime he wanted.

“Does that mean you’ll keep it?” Suga asked when Daichi drew back.

Daichi pretended to think hard, and Suga laughed and took his free hand over the counter, lacing their fingers together and stroking his thumb over Daichi’s wrist until he almost really did forget what he was pretending to ponder.

“I’ll keep it. Until we take a better one, where I’m awake,” he said finally.

“I’m not sure that’s possible when you look that good asleep,” said Suga very seriously, and though his eyes had a teasing twinkle, Daichi got the feeling he wasn’t entirely kidding, and it made his cheeks and ears burn.

“Oh! I almost forgot—for the responsible student who made it through another 8 a.m. lecture.” Suga went back around the counter and picked up a black and white paper cup stamped with the silhouette of a crow perched on the rim of a mug. The lid was stoppered, so when Suga set it in front of Daichi and took the top off, a cloud of wonderful, cocoa-scented steam rose right into his face.

“You’re amazing,” Daichi half-moaned, inhaling deeply.

“I had them put a shot of espresso in it, to get you through the rest of the day.”

Daichi took a careful sip before leaning back over the counter to kiss Suga again, a little longer this time. “I’m so glad I broke my old phone for you,” he murmured, tucking an escaped piece of Suga’s silvery hair back behind his ear. They weren’t at the ‘I love you’ stage yet, but the statement was rapidly becoming something Daichi thought of as a stand-in for it, a fervent expression of just how thrilled he was that their unorthodox journey of pining, flirting, and reckless electronic endangerment had somehow worked out after all.

“What time is your next class again?” Suga asked, bringing him back to the reality of the school day.

“Noon—I have some free time.” Daichi took another slow drink of the caffeine-spiked hot chocolate.

“Keep me company?” asked Suga, as they’d both known he was going to. “Monday mornings are always slow.”

“Tsukishima will give us dirty looks.”

“Let him,” said Suga breezily, shooting his younger coworker a glance. “Yamaguchi-kun starts in an hour, he’ll mellow out then.”

Daichi couldn’t come behind the desk, but Suga let him have one of their comfortable wheeled chairs to pull up to the outside of the counter, so he could sip his drink and talk to Suga as he went back to work on the laptop someone had brought in the previous day.

It would have felt impossible to him, just a few months earlier, that this could be his life. Even as he’d been making a total fool out of himself for the chance to talk to Suga again, there had been a part of his brain insisting that this could only last so long, that he was wasting his time. Now he needed no such excuses to visit the IT help desk, although he had kind of had one this morning.

Daichi reached out and tilted his phone towards himself, half-listening as Suga told him about the latest victim Nishinoya had pointed their way, a devastated freshman with a brand new Christmas gift smartphone like Daichi’s that had gotten left in a pocket and washed. He glanced from Suga’s animated face as he dimpled at the memory of the student tearing up with relief and gratitude when offered the rice treatment, to the Suga in the photo on his home screen with an arm around him and his face fondly gazing into the camera as if to say how lucky he was.

His phone had helped him find Suga, and now it could remind him whenever he looked at it that sometimes, even impossible, foolish things could still go right.

Daichi was definitely keeping his new home screen photo. Maybe even after they took a new one.

#my fic #add new contact #daisuga #haikyuu #ficwritersweek #day 2 #writer prompt #sorry it took me so long everyone!#I hope you have as much fun revisiting them as I did

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kuriquinn · 7 years

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Underneath the Underneath [1/?]

Summary: As observant as he is, it take Kakashi years before he realises he's in an actual, adult relationship.

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be forced to juggle geese until you drop dead should you be found plagiarizing.

Warning: Spoilers for pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.

Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during Part I, Part II and the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.

AN: OC alert! There is an OC in this story! Ohmygosh! Okay, so I have had a lot of interest in my OC, Manako, over the past little while, and I got a few requests here, on AO3 and on tumblr to start showing her relationship with Kakashi a little more. I had been meaning to wait until once I finished with all my SasuSaku headcanon stuff, but then I thought, why not write it now? Kakashi and Manako's relationship happens entirely off-screen so as not to interfere or impose on the canon, so I can write a few pieces every now and then for those of you who are curious. I hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note2: In case anyone was not aware of this (and I’ve mentioned it several times), Kakashi and Manako are about 9-10 years apart in age. They meet several years before the Naruto series begins and slowly build a friendship. Despite the fact that this is a universe with different age appropriate behaviours and expectations than our own (for crying out loud, they have twelve year old kids fight to the death and massacre their families), and that for the vast majority of human history age differences and relationships at younger ages have always exists, with or without consent, I have gone out of my way to ensure that nothing physical or intimate happens between the two until Manako is 18 years old (legal voting age in Japan, in many place in Japan, legal age of consent as per Tokyo’s Youth Protection Law). There has been an ongoing trend across many fandoms lately to demonize any relationship with a large age-gap or where one partner is a teenager on the cusp of being legal. Interestingly enough, these same people have no problem with a 17-year-old girl being stalked by a 100-year-old vampire just because he looks like a 17-year-old boy. Go figure.

In laymen’s terms, if you’re one of those holier-than-thou, morality-police, purity-wank douchenozzles that think authors should censor their work to protect your delicate sensibilities from being exposed to stuff that happens in real life…kindly step out of my section of the sandbox and go play elsewhere.

This is the politest I get about it.

“Ah! Kakashi, my venerable rival!” Maito Gai declares with his usual pomp, pointing one finger straight in front of him, while his other hand remains hidden behind his back. “Today is the day when we settle our longstanding, noble contest!”

Kakashi raises his single visible eyebrow at the digit two inches from his nose. “Is that so?”

“Yes! You see, as I was enjoying my balanced and revitalising morning repast, I heard a foreigner mention a competition from their land! The honourable and youthful pursuit of juggling geese!”

From behind his back, Gai produces a tiny gosling that blinks up at Kakashi and honks in puzzlement.

Kakashi returns that blink. Behind him, he hears Kurenai and Asuma stifle chuckles.

“That’s a goose,” he says eventually.

“Well-spotted, you keen-eyed animal, you!”

Kakashi counts to three in his head, and then points out in as reasonable a voice as he can manage, “Isn’t juggling geese a little cruel?”

“Nonsense! Our Konoha poultry is the hardiest of the land!”

That’s not what I…what even…?

There are so many logical, well-thought out arguments against this, and yet Kakashi knows from experience none of them will suffice. And so, he pounces on Gai’s ridiculousness in the hopes he can dissuade him for once.

“If the purpose is to juggle geese, shouldn’t there be more than one?”

Gai’s elated expressions holds for several seconds longer, and then his shoulders slump and he glares into the distance.

“Damn you, Kakashi, with your cool logic!”

Well, that was a narrowly avoided spot of—

“Fear not! I will return with a gaggle of goslings for us to test our juggling acumen!”

And he speeds off, leaving Kakashi holding the goose.

“Well…” Asuma begins.

“That’s certainly an interesting way to begin the morning,” Kurenai adds.

Gai hurries back, snatches the confused bird, and disappears again. Kurenai shakes her head. “Is it just me or does he get more high-spirited every day?”

“It’s not just you,” Asuma assures her. “The man could tire out the gods…”

Kakashi sighs and glances at the sky; the sun isn’t even at its zenith yet.

This is not how his routine is supposed to go.

Not that he ever consciously planned to have something as mundane as a routine. As a general rule, shinobi avoid having those, being that they are trained to expect the unexpected. However, over the years since he moved up the ranks in Konoha, a certain procedure has emerged nonetheless.

Every morning he rises before dawn and visits the cemetery, standing before the Memorial Stone to pay respect to his fallen comrades. Depending on his mood he may simply spare them a few words, or perhaps he’ll spend an hour or two in silent remembrance of Obito, Rin and Minato-sensei. Afterward, he heads to Hokage Tower to see if there’s anything Lord Third intends him to do.

It’s been almost a year since the Hokage removed him from active duty with ANBU, as well as mandatory therapy and instruction to readapt his teaching methods for genin. Eventually he will be assigned his first genin squad, but for now he’s simply on the village duty roster. Still, the missions Lord Third assigns him are always for the best of the village.

In any case, he has a lot more recreational time than he ever did before. Privately he thinks the old man is hoping he’ll use these newfound free periods to socialise more, but at this point in his life, Kakashi isn’t keen on seeking out friendship. As a child he didn’t like the idea of mingling with other people, and as an adult he is even more socially hesitant.

It’s not exactly easy to make friends when every person you’ve ever cared about died and everyone else holds you responsible for it.

Still, in spite of his reluctance, he has forged some connections within the village.

First and foremost, there’s Gai, whose presence in his life was insisted upon by their respective fathers. By now, the taijutsu master is so much of a habit for Kakashi that he’s not quite sure what he’d do without him. No day is complete without one of Gai’s ridiculous competitions, though Kakashi tries to avoid them until the evening for simple conservation of energy.

In the past few years, he’s also found himself in the company of Asuma more and more often. Kakashi is pretty sure the man has been ordered by his father to keep an eye on him, which would be annoying if Asuma were less interesting. The Hokage’s son is well-learned and well-travelled, and his stories fill the silences that would otherwise be awkward.

Then there’s Kurenai, who goes wherever Asuma does these days, and Yugao. She’s the only one of his former ANBU squad that he speaks to with anything resembling regularity, if only because she’s been going on fewer mission since she and Hayate started spending more time together. Tenzō, when he isn’t off on missions, will invite Kakashi for a drink or a meal (and then they both spend the evening trying to nonchalantly trick the other into paying for it).

He tries not to think of Itachi Uchiha at all.

“Are you actually going to juggle geese?” Kurenai asks, her mouth quirking upwards at Kakashi.

Asuma chuckles again. “That sounds like it would be messy…”

“Maybe I’ll be assigned a mission and be able to avoid him,” Kakashi groans.

“I don’t know – it looks like he’s coming back,” Kurenai points out, staring out into the distance.

Kakashi doesn’t need to be told twice.

Without really looking, he dives through the door of the nearest shop, just in time to avoid Gai’s triumphant return – now balancing half a dozen geese in his arms.

Peeking through the corner of the nearby window, he watches as Gai—upon realising Kakashi is nowhere to be found—begins to demonstrate exactly how one juggles geese to a bemused Kurenai and Asuma.

Kakashi sighs and slumps down, pressing his head against the wall. It’s going to be a while before he can slip away. Maybe there’s a back entrance somewhere—

“Unless you’re looking for a way to blow shit up, you shouldn’t be here,” a bored voice says from somewhere behind him. “My boss doesn’t like loitering.”

Kakashi looks up, noticing in the process that his chosen hide-out is one of the many surplus and supply stores in the village. The smell of ink, paper and gunpowder fill the air, and when he takes notices of the walls he sees row upon row of specialty parchment—the kind for explosive tags. He glances across the sales floor, for the first time taking note of the girl reading a book behind the check-out counter. She’s familiar to him, although in the second-hand kind of way that everyone in a small village is familiar, so it only takes a moment to place her.

Twins are rare in such a small village, and Manako Inuzuka is identical to her sister Hana. Brunette and dark eyed, with a solid-looking medium frame and a languid, unselfconscious bearing he doesn’t see in a lot of girls her age. She lacks the distinctive Inuzuka facial markings, which is odd considering she’s the child of the leader, but somehow she manages to look just as fierce.

Kakashi occasionally has business with Hana—sometimes his ninja hounds require urgent medical care, and she’s set to take over the village’s veterinary practice—but he has never spoken to Manako beyond a few random, forgettable encounters. He doesn’t expect this one to be any different.

Except, then his attention falls on the book she’s reading.

The book which happens to be the next installment of his favourite series.

The one he has been desperately waiting on for the last six months.

“That’s the latest Icha Icha novel,” he says.

“It is.”

“It’s not even supposed to be out for another month.”

“And yet, here it is,” Manako replies, turning a page.

“How did you get your hands on this?”

“I know a guy.”

He begins to approach the counter. “Can I know a guy?”

“That depends—are you into bondage?”

Kakashi does a bit of a double-take at this, opening his mouth and then closing it again as he studies her. She and Hana were in Itachi’s year, which means she can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

She has to be messing with him.

Even so, he’s not entirely sure what to say to that. At his silence, she finally looks up, considering him with a critical eye.

“Oh. You’re him,” she says, and Kakashi waits for the usual qualifier—he knows the things people whisper about him: cold-blooded, friend-killer, traitor’s son. But then she adds, “You’re Pakkun’s pet.”

“Pet?” he echoes, surprised and disbelieving.

“Sorry. That’s how the dogs talk,” she says, though she doesn’t sound or look very sorry, turning her attention back to her book in a clear dismissal. “I mean to say you’re his human.”

He’s not sure that’s much better and gets the sense that she’s mocking him.

“Your sister is a lot more polite than you,” he says, which sounds immature and over-simplistic, but he’s still a bit caught off balance and doesn’t know what else to say.

She doesn’t seem ruffled by the comparison at all.

“So I’m told.”

Again, her words drip with dismissal, and Kakashi is inclined to take the hint. He turns back toward the shop entrance.

Except –

He turns around. “Out of curiosity—”

“No.”

He frowns. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“You’re not getting my book.”

“I’d pay you for it.”

“But then it would not longer be my book,” she says, and then glances up, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’m possessive and materialistic like that.”

Kakashi resists the urge to pout, but only because he is a grown-ass man and a jōnin and feared by half the shinobi world.

“Surely there’s some arrangement we can come to?” he suggests, trying to sound smooth and casual and not like a slavering fanboy.

“You’re that desperate for cheesy romance and long drawn-out sex?” she raises an eyebrow at him, and he feels his cheeks warm beneath his mask because does she have to be that blunt about it?!

“Well what’s your excuse for reading it?”

“I have two X-chromosomes,” she retorts, and then crosses her arms. “And didn’t you hear? Long. Drawn-out. Sex.”

His cheeks flooding with even more colour.

“Should you really be reading that sort of thing?” he asks, a little tightly. “It’s not exactly…”

“Oh, but if it was a teenaged boy it would be alright?” she counters. “Talk about double standards…”

“I never said—”

“I have just as much right to read it as you,” she shoots back. “And if you think about it, it’s kind of creepier when it’s an old guy like you doing it.”

“…Old?” Kakashi demands, voice cracking a little in astonishment.

“Well, with that hair of yours,” she shrugs. “Easy mistake to make.” He stares at her in reply, and she smirks. “See? It’s not nice to generalize about someone’s age.”

Kakashi decide right then that it’s time to leave.

Juggling geese is suddenly a much less challenging prospect than any more absurdist conversation with this…person. He doesn’t even ask about the back entrance, and is almost on the point of opening the door again when—

“I guess I could make you a deal.”

Kakashi pauses, the sudden image of himself reading his beloved, long-book at the end of a tiring day. It’s been so long…

“I’m listening,” Kakashi says, turning back.

“I need someone to field-test my specialty explosive tags,” she tells him. “But Old Man Third won’t let me hire a genin squad. Something about legal issues or child protection or whatever.” She makes a dismissive hand gesture. “None of the chūnin are allowed to, either, ever since the last time some moron didn’t read the labels and blew off a testicle.” Kakashi’s cheeks rapidly lose all earlier warmth. “And most jōnin are pretentious pricks that think their missions are more important than functioning equipment, so...”

Kakashi’s eye twitches. “Noted.”

“But I’ve heard you’re moderately intelligent, and apparently, you’re fast too, so here’s what I want—you come by every so often and try out my specialty tags, then come give me feedback, and I’ll hook you up with this book.” Kakashi is about to say that seems like an awful lot of work for one book, and then she adds, “And any others that my contact sets me up with.”

“You’re making literature seem a lot more clandestine than it is,” he accuses.

“Not all of us are elite ninjas. Some of us have to make our fun where we can,” she replies. “Are you in or out?”

Kakashi turns the offer over in his head.

The whole thing sounds an awful lot like responsibility, or even worse, accountability, and unless the well-being of the village is at stake, he tends to avoid both.

However, on the other hand, he’s heard from others that Manako’s incendiary devices are top quality, and that she doesn’t limit her work to simple explosives. Which could prove useful in situations where he doesn’t feel like expending effort.

And he really wants to read the book.

It’s telling that the only considerations he have pertain to his own laziness and guilty reading pleasures.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” he says.

“Good,” she agrees, nodding in a businesslike fashion. “But you’re still waiting until after I finish reading it.”

Which causes Kakashi’s shoulders to slump because how did he not see that coming. He can predict the moves of enemy ninja before they even consider making them, and this girl outmaneuvered him with a single sentence.

She smirks at him, black eyes dancing. “Of course, if I didn’t have to cut my break short lugging boxes around and doing actual work, I could probably finish this in the next hour…”

He shoots her an unimpressed look.

“Do you actually think I’m that desperate?”

“I think you just promised to carry out potentially dangerous field testing that could possible get you blown up just to get a chance to read the book. Damn straight I think you’re desperate,” she declares, black eyes dancing. “So either you’re really bored with your life, or really weird.”

She looks him over again, and he gets the sense that this time she is actually studying him, because her eyes linger on his mask.

“Weird,” she concludes, and nods to herself. “Which is good. We’ll be friends.” She then closes the book, holding the place with one finger and pokes another in his face. “But no sex, okay? I don’t want to deal with sad puppy-dog eyes when I break your heart.”

He can’t help his jaw dropping at either implication.

“Now get to work. There are crates of blank scrolls in the back that need to be stocked up here,” she says, going back to her reading. “And if you don’t do a good job, I’m calling out spoilers.”

Which is how Kakashi Hatake, elite jōnin of the Hidden Leaf, finds himself stocking shelves for the next two hours, wondering what exactly he has gotten himself into.

つづく

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated, and very motivating—and if you enjoy my writing, check out my original stories as they are posted on patreon!

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#friday fic requests #naruto fanfiction #hatake kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #inuzuka manako #manako inuzuka #humor #first impressions #first meeting #original character #behind the scenes #spot the reference

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