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kayparker20 · 3 years

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Sakura Haruno + Fishing pole + Hokage Mountain

I'm very sorry it took me so long, I was struggling to figure out how the hell I was going to make a fishing pole work. It made it fun though!

Credit to my boyfriend for the original idea, I was vocalizing my issue with coming up with something and he just thought for two seconds and the base of this plot came flying out of him and I couldn't have laughed harder or been more thankful!

This is just funny and doesn't desire a rating

“Don’t you ever get tired of being in the background?” Ino droned on.

Sakura smiled. “Oh, the background? Maybe in the big picture, but certainly not here. I make them pay for all the trouble they cause me.”

Ino raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded kinky, but it’s coming from you so it can’t be.”

She shrugged. “For example, Kakashi failed to come to his medical exam we’re supposed to have after every mission, after promising me he would go.” She rests her chin in the palm of her hand and giggled lightly. “I’m the only one he trusts with his house key to keep Mr. Ukki alive when he goes on long term missions. Let’s see how long it will take him to realize volume four of Icha Icha is missing from his shelves.”

She casually pulls the book from her side pouch. “And it gets even better. You see, he’ll notice in minutes when he goes to put away volume three upon his return in,” She peeks up at the sky, gauging the time by the sun. “I’d say roughly 20 minutes. Which means, it’s time for me go.”

She sat at the edge of Hokage mountain, right in between her master’s bangs, fitting perfectly into the center part. She currently held a fishing pole and was tying up a bright pink book at the end of the line. She wrapped the line around the book so many times, being sure it would be secure from falling. She mourned that it may have creases on the cover later on, but it served him right.

Maybe if he ought to take care of himself just as well as he takes care of his books.

After tying creating a couple loops, trying them together and creating yet another knot, she tested it. After deciding it was sturdy and wouldn’t break, she reeled in the access line, and swung it over the cliff.

“Should be any minute now….” She mumbled to herself. “How could anyone miss the bright pink, especially with that sharingan.”

“And just what do you think you’re doing…?”

She smirked. Of course, the tone sounded indifferent. However, when she took a glance, she could see every bit of tension in the legendary man’s body.

“I’ll have to try this next time you’re late, seems casting out an Icha Icha books gets you to show up in no time.”

“You’re going to crease it!” He took a step forward.

She let go of the release to let the line unwind more, letting the book dangle an extra 10 feet lower before she grasped it again to stop it. “I seem to remember you making a promise.”

“I went!”

She grimaced at him. “You do remember I work there, right? And have access to all the charts? Especially to my teammates as our medic. You know what was missing, two hours after you checking with Lady Tsunade?”

He raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Maaah, Sakura-chan, you know I hate hospitals. I had been looking for you to let you check me over.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice try, but you were looking for this.” She swung the pole, letting the book float through the above Tsunade’s nose.

She heard him wince as he stared intently at his book.

She smirked before turning her body and reeling it in, and casting it towards him. Books don’t have the best aerodynamics, but the bounded papers got there on a rough path. It landed a few steps away from him on the ground. “Go ahead, grab it!”

He eyed her before taking a step.

As soon as he had lead forward, she reeled in a bit.

He glared at her. “You know I could move way faster than you can reel that pole.” He stated dryly.

“If you don’t humor me, I’m going to tell Anko you have a crush on her.” Sakura whipped right back at him. “If you cared as much about your well-being as you do about this book, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.” She huffed before reeling it in more.

He looked at her, debating if dealing with Anko believing he was smitten for her was worth just grabbing his book and making a run for it. He knew someone, somewhere would see such a humiliating sight, Copy Ninja Kakashi, brought to his knees by his giggling medic and a fishing pole with porn on it’s line.

He decided he’d never get rid of Anko, and could restore whatever damage comes to his reputation with the argument that it was that or deal with chakra strength fists. Everyone knew of Team 7’s weird dynamics, especially the one where the hot-headed medic beat the shit of them for being idiots and healed them ten minutes later.

He also liked being able to say she’s never even tried to beat him to pulp, rather that she forces him to take care of himself.

And in this moment, he realized it would only get worse if he continued to skip his wellness checks after missions.

He heaved a sigh and took a step forward and made a feeble attempt to grab his book at the sound of her cackling with delight.

#naruto fanfiction #kayparkerwrites #ask game #kakashi hatake #icha icha #sakura haruno #friendship #prompt: fishing pole #prompt: hokage mountain

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yelloh · 4 years

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random shit i think would be on the hokage desk when kakashi’s in office:

mr ukki. prized possession. shikamaru once tried to move him because kakashi was meeting with some important officials and he was obscuring kakashi's face and he almost got his hand cut off for it.

picture of tenzo. just a picture of him from when he was like 15. kakashi has it to embarrass him whenever he's on shift

a pack of nicorette gum

a picture of him, kurenai, gai, and little baby mirai

a doodle sai did of pakkun while they were on a mission once. it's framed and displayed like a proud parent of their child's 1st grade thanksgiving hand turkey

pink hello kitty pen sakura gave him when she was 12

bisuke himself

a crayon naruto left in his office while kakashi was teaching him how to do paperwork

welches fruit gummy packets

#my drafts are so golden sometimes its insane #pigeon man

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southsidestory · 3 years

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Hey! I LOVE all of your writing! Thanks for sharing your work with us! I saw that you like kakasakura... any chance you would ever write for them? 🙏☺️

Thank you so much, nonny! I’m so glad you enjoy my writing.

As for KakaSaku... well, there’s definitely a chance I’d write for them, because I already have. 😅 I’ve just never posted it.

But since you sent me this sweet ask, I’ll share the first scene of a KakaSaku fic I’ve been toying with. FYI even though Sakura is a chuunin and this is in the period when Naruto is traveling with Jiraiya, Sakura is 18. Because I said so, and this fanfiction land, where my rules are the only rules lmao

Kakashi’s mission ran over. It turned out that quietly assassinating a samurai lord constantly surrounded by underlings wasn’t as simple as he’d expected. The assassination itself was almost absurdly easy, but getting Lord Akinobu alone long enough to do it wasn’t. He ended up spending almost two weeks in the Land of Iron before an opportunity presented itself.

The trip back to Konoha was uneventful. He should report to the Hokage right away, but he felt a shower and nap were in order first. After he woke up, he watered Mr. Ukki, who had withered a little in his absence. Kakashi suspected that his house plant was indestructible, but two weeks was a long time even for it to go without attention.

He would ask someone to look after Mr. Ukki when he went on missions, but he didn’t have anyone. His neighbors resented him for coming and going at all hours, and his friends were… well, kept at arm’s length. Which was how he liked it. But unfortunately his independence meant poor Mr. Ukki sometimes went without water for a while.

Kakashi meant to go directly to the Hokage tower, but he spotted Gai buying watame from a street vendor and couldn’t resist getting two for himself.

“You only did that to one-up me,” Gai said sourly.

Kakashi continued on, cotton candy in hand. The blue one was the same soft shade as the sky overhead, and the pink was almost the exact color of Sakura’s hair. Like the smooth inside of a conch shell, or the cherry blossoms she was named for.

He hadn’t seen Sakura in three or four months, and he wondered how she was faring. He heard about her occasionally from his fellow jounin. What a skilled kunoichi she’d turned out to be, with the promise of becoming as strong as the Hokage herself someday.

Not much surprised Kakashi, but Sakura did.

He handed the blue cotton candy to a passing child, whose mother immediately yanked it out of his hands and glared daggers at Kakashi. The little boy wailed and reached for the spun sugar treat while his mother lectured him about not taking food from strangers.

Kakashi ate the pink one as he meandered his way toward the Hokage tower. By the time he arrived, he’d finished the cotton candy. He pulled his mask back up over his face, dropped the plastic stick in the lobby trash can, and went up the stairs to Tsunade’s office.

“You’re late,” she said, without looking up from her desk.

Kakashi leaned against the wall, tempted to pull Icha Icha out of his kunai pouch, but Tsunade’s temper and monstrous strength were a formidable combination. He’d like to keep his nose unbroken.

“It was hard to get Akinobu alone.”

Tsunade snorted. “You were the youngest shinobi to be promoted to chuunin in the history of Konoha, and you know a thousand jutsu. You’re creative enough to kill a measly samurai in a timely manner.”

Kakashi didn’t argue. Fighting with the Hokage was an exercise in futility.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I ought to dock your pay.”

He shrugged. “If you want.”

He had a nice nest egg set away, thanks to his thriftiness and over ten years of A-rank and S-rank mission rewards.

Tsunade sighed. “I expect your report on my desk by twelve tomorrow. And I do mean twelve in the afternoon, not midnight.”

Kakashi nodded with all the deference he could muster. “As you say, Lady Hokage.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, even though he did plan to turn in his mission report on time.

Probably.

Someone knocked on the door, and Tsunade called, “Come in.”

It was Sakura, carrying a stack of binders and looking very harassed. “I got those files you asked for, shishou—”

She stopped dead, green eyes wide as she looked up at him.

“Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura’s words were ruthless and so painfully high that he almost winced.

She hurried to set the binders on Tsunade’s desk, then turned back to him.

"Hey, Sakura. Long time no see."

The surprise fell from her expression and something harder took its place.

"Yeah," she said. "Been busy?"

"I was on a long mission," Kakashi said.

She raised one rosy eyebrow. "Oh? Four months long?"

Apparently Sakura hadn't grown out of her passive aggressive streak.

"Two weeks,” Tsunade said. “And it shouldn't have taken that long.”

Sakura smirked. "Are you losing your touch, Kakashi-sensei?"

He laughed a little. "Don't get too big for your britches. I can still take you."

She opened her mouth, no doubt to toss some retort at him, but Tsunade beat her to it.

“Don’t be so sure. You might be surprised by what she’s accomplished.”

“With a proper teacher,” Sakura said sweetly.

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Don’t blame me. If any students besides Team 7 had ever passed the bell test, I would have had more practice before you guys.”

“Please. You didn’t have any problems teaching Sa—” She paused for a moment, and in that brief silence Kakashi heard everything she wasn’t saying. She shook it off and went on. “You taught Sasuke fine. Naruto too sometimes, even though he was dead-last in our class.”

Kakashi canted his head. “Sasuke and Naruto were focused on becoming better shinobi. You were too busy nursing a school-girl crush.”

That was a low blow, but he wasn’t going to take all of the blame here. Sakura was as responsible for her lack of growth as a genin as he was.

She clenched her fists at her sides. “So I wasn’t worth your time? Is that it?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“You might as well have!” She took a few steps toward him, glaring ferociously enough to intimidate a lesser man. Too bad for her he’d seen worse than a spitting mad chuunin. “At least you’re finally honest enough to admit it. Not that you haven’t already made it astoundingly clear how weak you thought I was.”

Tsunade stood up and put her hands on her desk. “If you’re going to brawl, take it outside.”

Sakura’s chest was heaving with ragged breaths, her gaze fierce. She barely topped five feet and might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, but size didn’t mean much for a kunoichi of her caliber. Especially a girl trained by one of the legendary Sannin.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s go to the training grounds.”

“Come back and challenge me when you’re a jounin.”

He ruffled her hair, and Sakura smacked his hand away.

“Don’t treat me like a child, Kakashi!”

That brought him up short in a way that her temper tantrum hadn’t. She never called him by his name alone.

“Then don’t act like one.” He looked to Tsunade. “Am I free to go?”

She waved at him vaguely. “Get out of here before Sakura kills you.”

Kakashi took the shortest route home, barely hearing the hustle and bustle of the village around him. Mrs. Kurosawa, one of his neighbors, berated him for something on his way up the stairs to his apartment, but he didn’t bother to listen. He locked his door behind him, took off his hitai-ate, pulled down his mask, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He should read, maybe watch TV. Reruns of his favorite soap opera would start airing in an hour, and he needed to catch up before watching the new episode. Immersing himself in Marriage Contract would help him wind down from his overdrawn mission.

And his fight with Sakura. Which, if he was honest with himself, bothered him more.

He shouldn’t have called her feelings for Sasuke a school-girl crush. He’d watched Sakura’s childish infatuation grow into love, and diminishing it was downright cruel.

Some people would say that thirteen was too young to understand love, but Kakashi knew better. Shinobi learned hard lessons of the heart long before other children. Rin had loved him, and Obito had loved Rin. Kakashi didn’t know who he’d loved. He lost them both before he could figure it out.

Maybe if their team could bring Sasuke home, things would turn out better for Sakura.

He hoped so.

#kakasaku #kakasaku fanfiction #kakasaku fanfic #kakasaku fic #ks fanfiction #my fanfiction #kakasaku drabble #asks #nice people #Anonymous

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24k-usa-blog · 7 years

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Beautiful Sky

#jeonguk #kim jeong uk #uk #Ukkie #정욱 #김정욱 #art #Aesthetic #pink #pink aesthetic #24k #edit #T

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kichimiangra · 1 year

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Didn't tag this as a Nannersverse doodle dump cuz only the last two doodles have anything to do with my Nannersverse AU. The rest are just either fun thoughts based on comments section interactions or making sure I can draw the other protags distinctly :)

#Ape escape #art #ape escape specter #Ape escape Spike #Ape Escape Kakeru #Ape escape Satoru #Ape escape Sayaka #Ape escape Hiroki #Ape escape Hikaru #Ape escape Jimmy #Ape escape Jake #Ape escape Kei #Ape escape Yumi #pipotchi #Monkey Blue #Monkey Pink #ukki blue #Ukki pink

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ballpitbee · 2 years

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If I had the time to make a Saru Getchu cartoon, I so would

#saru getchu!#ape escape #specter #ukki blue #ukki pink

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ninjaemi93 · 5 years

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You Couldn’t Keep Me Away

Chapter 2

“It’s gorgeous here.” Asami said to Kiyone.

“It’s a well taken care of place.” She replied. They were stopped in front of a beautiful room nearby Captain Ukitake’s quarters. “This is your room. It’s the closest to the Captain’s should he need you right away.” Kiyone said with a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Oh, I see. It’s a lovely room.” Asami said. It was much bigger than her previous room and beautifully furnished. The door faced the lake so when you opened the door that’s what you would see. Her two boxes were already set on the floor.

“Well I’ll leave you to settle in then. If you have any questions just come find Sentaro or me.” Kiyone said with a smile.

“Thank you Miss Kiyone.”

“See you later!” She replied leaving the room and shutting the door. Asami got to work setting up her room. She put her clothes in the wardrobe and set her writing materials on the desk. She put her favorite books on a nearby shelf. She set up her beauty supplies and mirror next to her writing materials on the desk. She placed her medical supplies in a corner. Finally, she put a small vase, with a bouquet of flowers and herb mixed together inside of it, on the table.

“There, I’m home.” Asami said with a smile.

She left her room and went in search of Kiyone to see what she could do. As she walked along the outdoor hallways she ran into the Captain.

“Ah, Miss Asami. Are you all settled in?” He asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes sir. I’m ready to report for duty.” Asami said respectfully.

“Great! I actually need help copying some paperwork. Would you like to help me with it?” He asked.

“Of course, sir.” Asami replied.

“Please follow me.” He said walking past her towards his residence. She followed him inside. He walked over to his desk and picked up a stack of paper. He placed it in her hands.

“I’ll go get these done as soon as possible.” Asami said ready to head back to her room to work on them.

“You can work at the table. That way you don’t have to go back and forth.” He said gesturing to the table.

“Oh. Okay.” Asami said. She bowed to him and took a spot at the table. Captain Ukitake sat at his desk and began to work on his paperwork. Asami began to work on hers.

“So Miss Asami. How long were you serving in the 4th Division?” Captain Ukitake asked after some moments of silence.

“About fifty-years, sir.” Asami replied.

“And before that?” He asked.

“The Academy.” She said to him.

“I was told you were top-notch in Kido.” He said causing her to blush a bit.

“I-I guess I do alright.”

“Well you must, otherwise Unohana-sama wouldn’t have recommended you to me.” He said with a kind smile.

“Ukki! Do you have any snacks today!” A loud child’s voice asked. Soon a little girl with pink hair appeared at the door. She was wearing the normal shihakusho but there was a badge around her arm indicating she was a lieutenant. The number on the badge was eleven.

“Ah, Yachiru. Of course I do. Go ahead and sit at the table, I’ll get the treats out for you.” Captain Ukitake said getting up.

“Okay. Wow who’s she Ukki? She’s pretty. Is she your girlfriend?” Yachiru asked skipping to the table sitting next to Asami. Asami blushed a bit as she looked away.

“She’s my new subordinate. Be nice to her or I won’t give you any treats” Captain Ukitake said to her.

“Alright. Do you a name? Where’d you come from?” Yachiru began to ask. Asami politely answered.

“Ah, Re-Chan’s Division.” She marveled.

Captain Ukitake placed snacks in front of Yachiru. Her eyes went big and she began to devour the treats.

“Yachiru stops by to visit every once and awhile.” Captain Ukitake explained.

“I see. How fun.” Asami said giving him a smile as well as Yachiru.

“I see you have more fish in you pond Ukki.” Yachiru said grinning ear to ear. By pond she meant lake Asami concluded.

“Yes, they keep showing up like crazy” He said to her taking a seat next to Asami.

“Soon you’ll have more than Byakushi.” Yachiru said with a giggle.

“I just might.” He replied. Asami wondered who Byakushi was. It seemed Yachiru had given nicknames to people around her.

“Hey Mi-Chan are you any good at fighting?” Yachiru asked turning to her. “Mi-Chan?” she thought. Guess that was her nickname now.

“I do alright, why?” She replied to the little girl.

“You should come by and play with Ken-Chan some time. I bet he’d really like to play with you.” She said gulping down her last snack.

“Who’s Ken-Chan.” Asami asked.

“Captain Kenpachi.” Captain Ukitake answered.

“Oh.” She replied. In Division 4 it was known that Division 11 was a violent and unruly group so they’d stay away from them. To go and ‘play’ with the Captain of Division 11 didn’t sound fun at all. Yachiru seemed to think different though.

“I’ll have to see when I have time. I’m very busy in my new position.” Asami replied hoping it would deter her.

“I’ll let him know. He’ll be so excited.” Yachiru said quickly standing up. “Well I should get going. Bye Ukki. Bye Mi-Chan.” With that she raced out of the room.

“She’s quite the handful, but a great kid.” Captain Ukitake said beginning to pick up the wrappers from the treats.

“Ah! Please allow me to do that for you sir.” Asami said seizing the wrappers. She picked them up and placed them in the garbage.

“Thank you.” He said with a smile. Asami slightly bowed then went back to work.

“You write incredibly fast. You’re nearly done with the stack of paper I gave you.” Captain Ukitake noticed.

“There was a lot of record writing to be done back in Division 4. I had my fair share of writing.” Asami explained to him.

“Had I known you were such a fast writer I would’ve asked for you sooner. Kiyone and Sentaro always end up fighting and hardly get paperwork done.” Captain Ukitake said with a chuckle. Asami smiled. She didn’t have to imagine too much of what the two of them looked like doing paperwork. She’d already witnessed one of their fights.

“Well, I’m here now. If ever you need help with paperwork, I’m happy to help.” She said to him.

“I’ll take you up on that offer.” He said. He sat down at his desk and began to write. Asami assumed their conversation was over and went back to writing.

#jushiro ukitake #ukitake jūshirō #captain ukitake #jushiro #ukitake #bleach

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catstuxedo · 7 years

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A couple of pieces for tomorrow’s AGDQ

#agdq 2017 #legend of zelda #majora's mask #link #happy mask salesman #ape escape #specter #freaky monkey five #ukki #red #blue #yellow #white #pink #art #fanart

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interstellarwizard2019 · 4 years

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Imagine when Blue finally works up the courage to ask Pink out on that date. He’s wrote down what he’s going to say, but at the last minute he gets too nervous and ends up handing her the note and immediately zooming outta there, leaving behind a confused Pink Monkey.

#ape escape #saru getchu #ae #freaky monkey five #ukki blue #ukki pink

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chelemybelles · 7 years

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The one with the first #Chasing Cars chapter ...

CRIMINAL FRIDAY—JUNE 7, 1996

Settling into the chair under the orange tent, I scan the rows of market vendors as my fingers lazily stroke my beard. Marja smiles kindly across the way, and I offer her a nod, but keep my gaze from lingering before moving on. The last thing I need is to attract her attention. The wind sweeps my hair into my face, so I grab a rubber band from my pocket and tie it back as I look over my table one last time. Everything is in place for customers.

In an attempt to get comfortable and prepare for the long summer day, I cross my arms and lean back. People pass by. People browse. Fellow Finns nod with a ‘moi’ or ‘päivää,’ which I return out of habit.

Leena might think it is good for me to meet the customers, but I would rather remain unseen at home in the workshop where I do not have to be bothered with the bustle of the city. Leena better feel well tomorrow. A full day at the kauppatori is more than enough for me. If I have to stomach another day of tourist after tourist, business will not do well. I am not Leena. It is why I hired her to run the stand in the first place. Isä or Ukki could come and be the face of the family business when they were alive, but that is not me. Not anymore. The sun is high in the sky as I finish my lunch. I lick my thumb and crumple the wrapper before tossing it away as a beautiful blonde with a hiking pack slung across her back leisurely wanders up to the stand.

“Päivää.” I sit back, allowing her to peruse in peace.

“Oh, I don’t speak—” Her hand waves through the air, like she is swatting away the word as she continues, “Finlandish, or whatever.”

Ah, American girl. Ignorant American girl, at that.

I will speak to be polite, but do not expect me to carry on a conversation for long. It is not in my blood.

Though, if she does not even know what we speak, I am not sure I want to rescue her and speak English. I have already had to carry on conversations with several different Americans today and it is only twelve o’clock.

I do not have the energy, so I nod respectfully and cross my arms, releasing her from conversation. I will resort to hand gestures and pointing if she asks for prices.

Her eyes wander the table, studying it intently. I study it with her, seeing it as she does. Vases line the back. Glass birds and eggs sit atop glass stands on the right. Candlesticks and bowls dot the front. She carefully picks up a vase and smiles. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s designed to look like a lake? It’s amazing.”

“Tha— Kiitos.” Hemmetii. Her eyebrow arches. Good. She has no idea I thanked her. I bite my tongue, holding back that I understand her.

“Do you, uh . . . make these?” Her hands mimic what she must think my job looks like. Is she molding imaginary clay?

I stare blankly. Does she think I am dumb?

“You have no idea what I’m saying. Perfect. I’m making an idiot of myself speaking English to a hot, grizzly Finlandman.”

My lips twitch, but thankfully she cannot see it behind my long, wild beard.

She sets down the vase with a heavy sigh and waves. “Thanks.”

“Ole hyvä.” I take too much pleasure answering her in Finnish.

“Yeah, have a good day or . . . you too . . . or whatever you said.” She tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear as she turns away.

Shaking my head, I muffle my laughter behind my hand.

Word to the wise, American girl, learn a little bit about the country you are visiting before making the trip. It will get you far. Understanding the smallest phrases like ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’ might save you from humiliation or tip you off to the fact that I understand everything you say.

Her huge pack knocks into the stand holding the hand-blown ornaments. “Oh!” she squeaks. The glass clinks as they knock into each other.

I shoot up with a curse, grabbing for the wooden tree.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see those there.” Her hands and arms fly about as she catches her bottom lip with her teeth.

Does she have tears in her eyes? I grunt a dismissal of her apology and steady the ornaments. I examine them. Nothing broken. She can relax. No need to cry.

Her swift intake of breath catches my attention.

“Planes.” Her fingers stretch out, plucking a clear, gold airplane hanging from the tree. “These are—” She sighs, her eyes catching mine for the first time. “Beautiful,” she says, her voice filled with awe, one hand covering her heart.

Beautiful, indeed. Her eyes match the sky. Every shade of blue swirled into one. Could I match the blues of her irises in glass?

“How much?” Her fingers rub together. Is that the universal sign for cash? I point to the sign at the base of the ornament stand.

“Oh, I didn’t see that.” She flashes a half-smile as she digs through her wallet and hands me ten euros. “Thank you.”

I nod. Why did I choose her to hold back my English? My mouth opens to respond, to keep her here. For what? To talk to a pretty girl a little bit longer? I cannot start speaking English now. I have taken this too far.

Her shapely figure disappears into the crowd and I force my attention on the next customer approaching. ***

I am calling Leena as soon as I get home to see how she is doing. I sold well enough, but I cannot handle another day of interacting. The tourists would appreciate someone who does not mind being here, I am sure. We need more pieces to sell, anyway. No one is going to get that done except for me.

Boxing up the remaining pieces of glass, I haul them to the van. When I return to the tent for take down, I am distracted by the beautiful blonde American from earlier walking over the cobblestone toward me. She does not look as carefree and cheerful as she did a few hours ago. Her full lips turn down as she scours the emptying tori, a frantic look marring her striking eyes.

I am in trouble.

She pauses in front of my stand and her brows furrow when she looks to me. Her mouth opens, but she shakes her head and turns away. Probably thinking I am no help. Is she okei?

“Oletko kunnossa?” I rest my hand on her shoulder, offering what little concern I have. She has no idea what I am saying, but maybe she will give me something and I can lead her in the right direction. For all I know, she has to go to the bathroom.

“I . . . I think my stuff was stolen.” Her palms press against her eyes. She slips her fingers into her hairline as her blue eyes fill with moisture. “My passport, my wallet. I can’t believe this.”

She curses low, her head swiveling around the tori. It has cleared out. Only vendors cleaning up remain.

“What do I do? They’re going to kill me.” She kicks at the ground, scolding herself.

I sigh heavily. Obviously, I need to help this poor girl. Time to break my silence. “What do you mean you think it was stolen?”

Her hands drop as her gaze snaps my way. “You speak English?”

I look at her and confess, “Yes.”

She huffs, a light laugh parting her lips as her head shakes. “Of course you do.”

“I can try to help, if you tell me what happened.”

Her face lifts to the sky like she is searching for divine intervention. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” She plunks her hands on her hips with a sigh. “Um, I was here with some friends. We were throwing our bags in the car and I decided to run to the restroom. When I came back, they were gone.”

“The car? Maybe they had to move it? Traffic or some other reason?”

“You don’t think I thought of that? I stood around waiting for thirty minutes. I wandered these streets for an hour.” Stomping her foot, she groans. “And now I’m lost.”

“Would your friends leave you? Could they have gone back to your hotel?”

She ignores me and returns to her search, spinning in a slow circle. Her eyes dart around the tori. She slaps her palm across her forehead with a pout. “Oh my gosh. How could I be so careless and stupid?”

She’s dressed in ripped jeans with a plaid flannel shirt tied around her waist. Her band T-shirt is two sizes too small, clinging to her curves and baring her belly button. My eyes pause on her smooth stomach before scanning up her shapely body. Beautiful. She is free of makeup, making her look fresh and innocent. The longer I study her, the younger she seems. Hemmetii, how old is she? What kind of friends leave a girl looking like this alone in a foreign country?

“How well do you know these friends of yours?”

She hesitates, her expressive blue eyes fixing on mine. “Uh. ‘Friends’ is probably an overstatement.” The right side of her lip curls up slightly as she lifts a shoulder.

My eyes narrow, one brow lifting. Curiosity and worry equally peak.

She groans. “I’m backpacking Europe. Have you ever done that?”

I snort a laugh.

“Duh, obviously you’re European, I guess not.” Pink stains her cheeks. “I’ve been picking up friends on and off for months. You meet at hostels and travel together, hang out.”

Oh, you naive American girl. Are you crazy? Or just that careless?

Shapely brows scowl over her narrowed eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

My jaw works as I chew on my bottom lip. It is difficult to wipe the judgmental expression from my face. She must be young, too young to know better.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not stupid. I . . . I just didn’t think.” She folds her arms beneath her chest. “I always carry my bags with me. I know better. I just—” She blows out her cheeks. “What am I supposed to do? This is all I have in my possession.” Her hands sweep up and down her body.

I heave a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. It is clear she is terrified. Lost in an unfamiliar country without a dime or any identification. “Have you spoken to the police?”

Her head shakes.

“Okei.” I swipe my hand down my beard and tug, contemplating. I cannot leave her here, though maybe it would help her learn her lesson. Clueless American girl. Trusting strangers. “If you let me finish packing up, I can take you to the police department. We will see what they can do for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What will you do if I do not?” It is not safe for a beautiful young girl like her, especially a foreigner. I block out the possibilities if I do not help her.

“Is the station nearby? I can go on my own. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to bother you.”

“It will take you an hour by foot. It will only be fifteen minutes out of my way. Let me drive you.”

Indecision crosses her face. “Okay.” Her hands dig into the tight pockets of her jeans. “But I can pay you. I have—”

“No.” I turn away to take down the tent. “All I want is to know you are helped and safe. It is getting late, though it may not look like it. You should not be wandering around Helsinki on your own.”

“Thank you.” Her soft voice comes from directly behind me and I turn. She stands way too close. Clearing my throat, I take a small step away. I do not want to give her the wrong impression. This is a ride to the police station, nothing else.

“You are welcome.”

“I’m sure you think I’m a stupid American girl for putting myself in this position. I appreciate your help.”

At least she is aware it is stupid, though she does not appear to believe it is.

“At least let me help.” She moves to the tent as I round the other side.

“How do you take this down?” Stretching up on her toes, she reaches for the top of the poles. “Is there a button or something?”

I grunt and move toward her, pushing the button that’s just out of her reach. “Let me take care of it. Go ahead and get in the van.” I look down at her. She is shorter than I realized, such a small person with such a big personality. “I will be a few more minutes.”

Her head tips up, her eyes once again settling on my face. It is difficult to find my breath. Something expands in the space between us. When was the last time I was this close to a beautiful woman? I clear my throat and look up at the pole. Her arms drop as she strolls away. She moves slowly, as though the world has beaten her. Leaning against the van, she crosses her ankles and toys with the sleeves of the flannel around her waist.

“I wasn’t supposed to come to Finland, you know,” she calls across the distance between the van and my booth. “I have no idea what there is to do here. It was my friend Brigette who convinced us to ride the ferry over from Stockholm. She wanted to come here to the market for the day.”

I slide the bundled tent into the back of the van. “She had a good idea, though maybe you will pick your friends better next time.” I shut the back doors and walk to the driver’s side.

“They’re probably already heading back. Getting as far away as they can.”

I do not say it because she sounds so helpless, even though she tries to play tough, but I guarantee she will never see her stuff again. “You are probably not wrong, but we will see what the police can do for you.”

“I’m Amber, by the way,” she says as she climbs in and shuts her door.

“Olle.” I turn the ignition.

“Say it again. O-lay?”

“Ol-le,” I say a little slower.

“Ah-lay. Got it.”

No, she does not. “No. Not lay,” I over enunciate. “Leh. Olle.”

“Close enough.” Her hand waves my explanations away. “Your accent is so strong. You’re lucky I understand half of what you say.”

I shake my head and exhale. Ignorant American.

“So, do you pretend to not speak English with all your customers, or just American girls?” There is teasing in her voice.

I keep a straight face, though I am laughing inside. “Just the American girls.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

My eyes flit to her briefly and my mouth curves up. She bites her thumbnail, coyly looking at me from the corner of her eye. No wonder she got herself into trouble. Not only is she too trusting, she is a little vixen.

She angles her body toward the door as she leans closer to the window. “Well, keep that up. It works for you.”

I shift in my seat. This one needs to be kept at arm’s length or she is going to get me into serious trouble.

“By the way, you could have at least thanked me for the compliment.”

“Compliment?”

“I totally called you ‘hot’ earlier.” Amber cocks her head back toward the tori.

“Ahh, yes, ‘hot, grizzly Finlandman.’ That is a compliment?”

She gives me a once-over as she draws her lower lip between her teeth. “It most certainly was.”

If ‘Finlandman’ was a word. Pressing on the brakes, I come to a stop at a sign.

Amber inhales sharply. “I think that’s them! That dirty, little yellow car.” Her face presses against the window as her hand slaps at the door in search of the handle, yanking it open when she finds it.

I look for the car she describes, but do not see it before she jumps out. “Amber! Hei!”

She sprints across traffic. Hemmetii. I turn left onto a side street and park. Once I am out of the car on the intersection she bolted across, I search up and down the road and through the green of Espa in between the streets. Nothing. I jog up the sidewalk in the general direction she took off in, my eyes scouring the side streets.

I do not have time for this. Why am I bothering? Let her run off, Olle. It is clear she will do nothing but cause problems.

After several minutes, I nearly give up before I spot her a few blocks up. She sits on a curb with her arms resting on her thighs, head hanging low. My steps quicken. I holler as I near. “Are you crazy? You could have been hit by a car. What if I could not find you?”

“It wasn’t them.” She wipes at her face as vulnerability glosses over her eyes for the first time, her earlier anger turned to sadness. “I had my travel journals in there.” She sniffs. “And my clothes. My bracelet—” Her right thumb rubs across the top of her left ring finger. “My ring,” she says, her tone painfully sad.

A trail of red runs down her wrist and drips to the ground. I squat beside her on the sidewalk. “What did you do?” I take her hand. It is so small and soft compared to mine, despite the gravel and blood caking the scrapes in her palm.

“Hmmm?” Her chins lifts as she splays her hands palms up. “Oh, that? You Finns really should take the time to fix your walkways. They’re a hazard.”

“They would not be so bad if you were being careful. Up you go.” Grasping her arm, I help her to her feet. “We need to get you to the police department and get that hand cleaned up.”

I guide Amber back to the van and help her inside. I should have kept pretending I do not speak English. At this rate, I will not be getting home for hours. If I have to work the tori tomorrow, I will get no sleep tonight.

No, not helping her is out of the question.

Back on the road, I eye her as she watches the passing buildings and streets. Did this girl really come to Europe on her own? And her parents were okei with it? How old she is? She cannot be more than a teenager. Eighteen? Nineteen?

She sighs. “You keep looking at me. Go ahead, ask whatever it is you’re wondering.”

“You came here on your own, without your family?”

“To the absolute horror of my older brothers. Yes.” A faint chuckle falls from her lips.

Brothers. “And your parents? They could not have been comfortable with their daughter backpacking across Europe alone.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a runaway or anything, and I’m of age.”

Well, that is somewhat comforting, but it is not what I asked. “How old are you?”

“How old are you, Olé?” she says my name like I am a Spaniard, her lips twisting up.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. Do not laugh, Olle. I am trying to have a conversation, but she is very good at evading.

Rather than pressing, I answer, “I am twenty-seven.”

She bites on her nail again. Nervous habit? “I’ll be twenty-two in August.”

Twenty-two. We reach a stop sign and I study her with the new knowledge. She could be twenty-two, or she could be saying that to appease my concerns. It is encouraging to know I have not been appreciating the beauty of a teenager.

“To answer your first question, my parents passed away.” She tugs on her ponytail, smoothing the length of it. “Though, if they were still with us, I most certainly would not be here.”

My chest pinches with the familiarity of pain. “I am sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

Her face turns from my view. “It’s been a few years.”

Her answers do not make me feel better about her traveling alone, but it is not my concern. She is not my concern.

I park outside the police building, reluctant to let her go. Strange.

“Someone will be able to speak English well enough to communicate with you. Just tell them what happened. They will help you.”

Her focus remains on the windshield as she releases the lock to her seatbelt. “You’ve been kinder than most Americans would be in this situation, especially after I jumped out of your van like a crazy person.” She laughs self-deprecatingly. “Thank you.”

I wave off her thanks. “Do not worry about it.”

She turns partly toward me, her gaze darting to the back of the van where I keep my inventory. “Do you think I could buy another one of those planes? The first one was stolen, in case you hadn’t heard.”

I get out of the van without a word and open the back, pulling out the box with the glass ornaments. Meeting her on the passenger’s side, I offer her my last airplane. “No payment necessary. Something positive for you to remember Finland by.”

Amber smiles. A full blown, dimple-inducing smile that makes the pit of my stomach flip. Her hand covers the plane in my palm, her delicate fingers grazing mine. She lifts to her toes, pressing a kiss to the edge of my jaw. It is the first time I wish I did not have a beard so I could feel her full lips.

“I don’t think I’ll need the plane to have a positive memory,” she whispers as she pulls away.

With that, she spins and moves toward the police station. “It was nice to meet you, Olle.” Her voice carries over her shoulder. This time she pronounces my name correctly.

I smirk as she disappears into the building.

It is time for me to get on the road. The two-hour drive is not going to get any shorter. I still need to call Leena. If I have to work tomorrow, too, I have to get on the road so I can get some sleep.

I stuff my hands in my pockets. I cannot move. What if the police are no help? What will she do? Where will she stay? She needs to get to the American embassy for a new passport. They are closed now. Closed for the weekend.

Will she know how to handle any of that? She does not have any identifications on her. She has nothing.

Olle, she is not your responsibility. Getting tangled in this will not work in your favor. She is a grown woman who has survived in Europe for this long. She can handle this on her own.

Sure, a grown woman who trusted strangers with her valuables. And what about all those journals she lost? I cannot help with the jewelry or her identification, but I can get her a new journal. She is going to be hungry, too.

You are an idiootii, Olle.

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