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kishillaa · 3 years

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SSM21 Day 17: A Gentle Man

Sakura had to bite her lips when she sees an ebony boy lean against the hospital wall; his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his shinobi pants, one leg is bend for its to stay on the wall while the other one stand to hold his weight. He looks rather tired, especially with bandage wrapped neatly around his head where his forehead protector usually be. She sighs as she approached him. He's too good looking for his own good.

As if sensing her presence – or was it shinobi thing? Maybe Sasuke mentioned about it before? Chakra signature was it? — he turns his head to her. He push himself off the wall and face her as if to greet her coming his way.

"Hey." She said, smiling. "I heard you're here."

Sasuke shrugs, "Yeah, caught minor wound on our way back."

"Let me see." She's already reaching up to his wrapped head, putting light pressure where she saw small blood make itself known just above his ear.

"How did it happen?"

Sasuke scoff lightly, and Sakura knows he purposefully dif to avoid telling her it's not for her to know, "It's nothing serious. Come on, your shift ended half an hour ago. I'll walk you home."

Sakura fight back a grin as she nodded at him. He wasn't usually in the village, always busy with his confidential shinobi or ANBU mission, but when he is, he do every thing he missed out with her since they started this, whatever it is, few months ago.

"Have you eaten?" Sakura asked, as he leads her out of the lobby of the hospital, walking side by side.

Sasuke shakes his head, "And neither do you."

Sakura close her mouth with her hand as she laughs. He always knew, "That's true."

They walk together under the dark starless night, with Sakura looking up the sky and him ahead of their route, "So, was it a success again this time?" She asked, as she peaked at him.

"You could say that." He wears his ANBU gear, so it must be a bad stuff –as to what he said– so Sakura refrain herself asking for more.

"How was your shift?" He asked, didn't even try to hide the fact that he was blatantly staring at her.

Grinning, Sakura bounced herself so she's few step ahead of him before she turns around to face the pretty face Sasuke, while walking backwards with Sasuke following with his slow pace towards her.

"It was pretty good. Quite few new experiences. And I actually went through one surgery with a medic nin." She went on, "After all this time, I was still astonished what a ninja medic can do. There's only a handful things civilian doctor does."

"You're already great at your job, Sakura." He had said, "Though, I'm sure you'd be an okay ninja. I can't fully detect your chakra since you don't use it at all, but they are very warm, tame and quite stable. A medic nin will be a good choice if you decided to be a ninja."

Sakura hands clasped behind her back as she stop her pace and leans towards him, "If I chose to become a ninja years and years ago, do you think you and I will be in the same class in the academy together?"

Sasuke however raised an eyebrow at her question. "Probably." He said, playing along.

Satisfied that he did, Sakura's grin widen, "Do you think you'll like me when we're in the academy? Developing a crush maybe?"

Sasuke's face reveal a tiny amused smirk, "No,"

"And why is that?" Sakura tilted her head, frowning at his confident no.

Sasuke shrugs his shoulders, "I'm sure you're the one who will having a crush on me, join all those fangirls fawning over me, shamelessly ask for dates and for a seat next to me–"

Sakura makes an odd face as she cuts him off, "They did that?" She's quite impressed actually, if they went that extend for her good looking boyfriend (?)

"Still do." He replied nonchalantly, moving forward as he gently tug Sakura's arm to walk beside him.

"They do? Why didn't I know about this?" She asked as her feet fall beside him.

Sasuke rolls his eyes at her, "It doesn't matter."

"Because you like me, right? Right?" She was hopeful as she asked him. She didn't go to the same school Sasuke went, and she wasn't in the village for few years back either, so she doesn't really know people their age.

Sasuke Uchiha is always a tease when it comes to Sakura Haruno, so he smirked at her, "Maybe."

Sakura narrows her eyes at him before she turns her head away to the other direction, decided to dismiss his teasing manner and continue on to her game, "Do you think we will chosen to be in the same team, what do you call that? Genin was it?"

"Ahh." He responded.

"Genin team." She let out a short chuckle, "So cute, don't you think? What did you say your Jounin instructor was?"

"Hatake Kakashi."

Smiling ruefully, she asks, "Do you think he will like me? And your other teammate? I mean, we're going to become a team, I'm sure we will at least tolerate each other."

She doesn't realized it when her companion frown as he look down at her, "I think the dobe will have a crush on you. Kakashi will be neglecting you in training, but will be very fond of you, I'm sure."

"I thought you said your sensei doesn't like Ami." Sakura reminded.

"That's Ami. She's very aggravating, and a handful. You, in the other hand is brilliant, and Kakashi likes those who ask questions, and that's what you always do."

Sakura had to grin in content at Sasuke's subtle compliment of her, "He has many reasons to like me then. How about the other male teammate of yours. He's the blonde boy right, your best friend? Naruto?"

"Ahh." he said, and stop at Ichiraku, a ramen shop. "He liked ramen a little too much."

Sakura laughed, "Really, now? Is this where you often found him?"

"Hnn." He paused, "If I didn't know he has mission today, I'll be avoiding this place at all cost."

"Why bring me here, then?"

"It's the closest from the hospital."

"Alright, then."

Sasuke nodded at her as he pulls up the shop curtain for her to get in.

Smiling at his chivalrous manner, Sakura get in as he follows suit. They take a seat on the stool and order their food.

"This is actually good." She moans in satisfaction as she tasted the ramen. "Why haven't you bring me here before, Sasuke-kun?" She asked as Sasuke nod at the owner when he handed Sasuke's order.

"I've had a little too much of this. And plus, we hardly go out together for me to bring you anywhere."

"That's true." Sakura said, nodding her head as she feeds more of the ramen into her mouth. It didn't take long for her to finish her first bowl.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, "Do you want another one?"

Biting her lips, Sakura nodded shyly and so they order another bowl of ramen for her, "Naruto will be delighted knowing you like this."

"Ahh, we should bring him together next time then?" she suggested, "Maybe your sensei too? How about your brother and that charming cousin of yours? And your smoking friend?"

Sasuke rolls his eyes at her, "Yeah, bring the whole village here if you'd like."

Sakura burst out laughing at his sarcastic response, playfully smack his arm. They chatted a few more as Sakura finishes her second bowl. When Sasuke ask her if she wanted a third one, she shakes her head while patting her stomach, "I'm so full."

He pays for their food before they left, quickly shove the money to Teuchi before Sakura could retrieve hers.

"You don't have to pay mine." Her forehead scrunch in displease.

"I already did." Sasuke replied nonchalantly shrug his shoulder making Sakura rolls her eyes as they walk to the direction of her house. The walk to her house wasn't silence with Sakura constant chatter, which Sasuke has started to like. It's way better than Naruto's too loud and bright presence.

"Thank you for walking me home. And for the ramen. We absolutely need to go back there." She said, hands clasped at her back as she beams while she looks up at him.

Sasuke shoved his hands in his pants pockets while nodding, "If you like."

Sakura giggles at him before she rose on her toes to place a chaste kiss over his lips, "You're so cute."

He rolls his eyes, "Go up now, I'll wait."

"Such gentle man aren't you, Sasuke-kun. Good night." She chuckles as she turns around, raise her hand up for a good bye and walk up the stairs to her home.

True to his word, Sasuke wait until he heard a door closed, and her room light up for him to walk away, though he still look up at the window of her room while walking.

#ssm21 #ssm21d17 #SasuSaku #SasukeUchiha #SakuraHaruno #CivilianSakura #prompt #drabble #kishillaa #kishillaawriting

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nejitenforlife · 3 years

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Mutual Attraction

A NejiTen One-Shot AU

Rating: T

Words: 6,145

Summary: When Tenten is being harassed by someone at a bar, she is rescued by a very attractive - and very familiar looking - man.

I posted this a while ago to FFN and AO3, but I don’t think I’ve posted it on Tumblr, so here you go. Please enjoy.

There were specific reasons Tenten hated parties. Whether they be in bars, clubs, or in someone's house, they were always the same—excessively loud with an almost constant stench of sweat and cigarette smoke permeating the air.

But that wasn't the worst part.

Oh no.

The worst part was in the form of the man standing right in front of her, desperately trying to flirt his way into her pants.

Tenten fought the desire to roll her eyes, her hand gripping her glass of liquor a little tighter as the man—Deidara, he had said his name was—grinned at her, his arms gesturing animatedly as he spoke. He was telling her a joke, having to shout over the loud music, but she wasn't listening. She hated when men hit on her—not that it happened often, but still—as though they were God’s gift to women.

She realized he had stopped speaking, giving her an expectant look that suggested he was waiting for her reaction, and she let out a polite chuckle in response. She didn't want to be here, but she wasn't a bitch. She would be as polite as she could be until she could extract herself from the situation.

Then she would find Temari and strangle the life out of her blonde friend for dragging her to this damn bar.

Usually, Tenten didn't mind having a drink in a bar with a nice atmosphere, but not tonight. Her friends, Ino and Sai, had finally decided to tie the knot, and this was supposed to be their engagement party. Not the kind of place Tenten would have chosen for a party herself, and she hadn’t wanted to come, despite having been friends with the blonde since college, but Temari had made her.

Everyone was here. Tenten had caught glimpses of Naruto and Kiba playing a loud game of pool in the corner, Naruto's girlfriend, Hinata, sitting quietly as she watched them, a shy but happy smile on her lips. Sakura was sitting in a booth with her boyfriend, Sasuke, the woman talking enthusiastically while her counterpart remained stoically silent. Tenten still didn't understand what the pinkette saw in the moody raven-haired man, but he made her happy, so Tenten couldn't complain. Shikamaru and Shino were sharing another booth in the corner, the pair looking almost as uncomfortable as Tenten felt, and she decided to make her way over and hang out with them for a while, away from the loudness of the bar.

She had barely even arrived and had only gone up to the bar to get a drink, where she was rudely intercepted by this man who still had not stopped talking.

Did he ever shut up?

Unable to hold back the sigh, Tenten took a long sip of her whiskey and enjoyed the way the golden liquid warmed her throat on its way down to her stomach.

Maybe if she drank enough, she wouldn't feel so annoyed.

“You wanna dance?” The man—Deidara, she reminded herself again—tried to lean closer to her ear as he spoke, but Tenten stepped away from him, making him repeat the question a little louder.

She shook her head, wondering if her face was still impassive or if he could see her impatience creeping onto her features. “No, thank you. I want to go sit down.”

He looked around, his lips turning down in a frown as he noted the full tables. “I don't think there's any spare tables, but we could find a more secluded corner and talk, yeah.” He ended the sentence with a suggestive eyebrow raise, and Tenten had to fight the desire to roll her eyes again.

“Actually,” she started, taking another small step away from the overly friendly blond. “I'm here with friends and would like to sit with them.”

“Oh?” His eyes widened before what she imagined was supposed to be a flirtatious smile graced his lips. “I wouldn't mind meeting your friends. Where are they sitting?”

She had tried to be nice. Hell, she had spent the last ten minutes listening to his attempts of flirtation. But he was getting on her last nerves.

“Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy,” she said, trying to keep her voice even without letting her irritation seep through. “But I'm not interested.”

“Don't be shy, yeah,” he replied, unfazed at being turned down. “I'm sure you'll change your mind once we get to know each other.”

Tenten opened her mouth to say that no, she would not be changing her mind and could he please leave her before her patience snaps and she punches him in the face, when she felt an arm snake around her waist, causing her to squeak in surprise. A large hand pressed against her hip, pulling her close to a warm, hard body. She barely even had time to register what was happening before the person spoke.

“I am sorry for being late, my love,” the smooth voice rumbled from beside her. “Is this a friend of yours?”

Tenten knew what the stranger was doing immediately, and although she didn't appreciate that he had assumed she needed help, she was secretly grateful for it.

Moving her arm to rest along his back, she looked up with a wide grin, a grin which threatened to falter when she saw the face of the man who had deemed to rescue her.

To say he was handsome would be an understatement. He was breathtakingly beautiful—and yes, Tenten didn't mind calling a man beautiful. He had black hair that rested just above his shoulders, and although Tenten didn't usually like men with long hair, it seemed to work for him. No, she corrected herself. It definitely worked for him.

His pale, lavender eyes met her brown ones and Tenten had to stop herself from gasping. His eyes were mesmerizing, and although they seemed familiar, she couldn’t figure out why.

Deidara took a step back at the appearance of the newcomer, his hands out in a placating manner in front of his body. “I, uh, didn't realize you were taken. Sorry man, I didn't mean anything by it, yeah.”

“No harm done,” the newcomer replied. “But if I catch you talking to my girlfriend again, I will not be so polite.”

Tenten watched Deidara go, relieved to have finally gotten rid of him—though, she supposed the newcomer was responsible for that, not her.

Their arms were still around each other and Tenten suddenly felt very nervous. It wasn't that she wasn't used to guys—she had plenty of male friends—but he was a stranger. A beautiful stranger. She extracted her arm from around his waist and stepped back, feeling every movement of his arm as it fell away from her body.

Was it wrong that she felt bare without it?

No, that was stupid. She didn't even know the man and he had barely been holding her for a couple of minutes. Maybe she was just missing the feeling of physical contact. She may have a lot of male friends, but she hadn't dated anyone in a very long time.

“Thank you for that,” Tenten said, forcing her head up to look him in the eye with a smile. “He would have left eventually, but he was being stubborn.”

His lavender eyes were intense as they bore into hers, and Tenten could feel herself flushing at his attention. “You are welcome.” .

. Neji didn't know what possessed him to help the dark-haired beauty. He had only just arrived at the bar and was looking for his cousin when he spotted the woman, looking uncomfortable as a man with long blond hair tied back in a high ponytail chatted her up. Her fingers were tapping her glass impatiently and her eyes continued to sweep the room, as if looking for a way to escape the man's attentions.

It wasn't in Neji's nature to help others, not really. He had grown up in a wealthy family, spoiled from the day he was born by his parents, and from a young age, he tended to only do things that would benefit him. But as soon as his eyes had locked onto the woman, noting appreciatively the way her jeans hugged the curves of her ass, he was lost. His feet had made their way to her without his brain directing them and before he knew it, he was pulling her close to his body, relishing the feel of her softness pressed against him.

She was staring at him now, head tilted back slightly so her eyes—the colour of warm chocolate—could peer into his, a smile on her pretty pink lips. She was thanking him, he knew that, but he couldn't hear her words, too caught up as he was in staring at her features. Would she mind if he leaned down to kiss her? Probably, given the fact that she had just gotten rid of the last man that intruded into her space. Still, it didn't stop Neji from staring at her lips, imagining what they would feel like pressed against his own.

Absentmindedly, he realized that she looked vaguely familiar. But surely, he would remember a woman as attractive as this one. A frown tugged his lips downwards as he wondered where they may know each other.

He was staring.

Tenten wasn't sure whether she should say something or not. It wasn't like she disapproved of his staring—not like she had disapproved of Deidara’s attentions. But he hadn't replied to her and she was beginning to feel a little embarrassed. Especially when his lavender eyes kept flicking to her lips.

Did he want to kiss her? Tenten was tempted to ask him to do just that, but she didn't think it would be appropriate. He had helped her, yes, but that did not mean he was interested in her.

Besides, she reminded herself, he's a stranger!

Someone jostled her as they walked past, knocking her to the side. The man's arm sprung out like lightning, keeping her from toppling over, and breaking whatever moment they were having.

“Thank you,” she said again, stepping back from him.

“You are welcome,” he replied in that same, smooth tone. Tenten shivered despite the warmth of the bar, unable to turn away from his intense gaze.

“A-anyway, I should go. My friends are over there,” she pointed in the general direction of where Shikamaru and Shino were sitting while silently cursing herself for stuttering. She had never stuttered before in her life!

The man turned to the direction she was pointing, his gaze lingering before turning back to meet hers. “I have some friends that way as well. Shall I walk you to your destination?”

Tenten nodded her head dumbly. He placed a hand gently at the small of her back and followed her as she weaved her way through the crowd towards where her friends were sitting, all the while wondering if she could convince him to stay with her a little longer. Maybe get to know each other?

Unless he already had a girlfriend. Tenten stumbled as the thought crashed into her, barely registering as he held her elbow to steady her. She sent him a quick, strained smile before picking up her pace. Why hadn't she thought of that straight away? Of course he would have a girlfriend—how could he not?

Tenten suddenly felt silly for being attracted to him, especially after only just meeting him. She wasn’t the type of woman who could attract a man like this. It wasn't that she was unattractive, but she had enough experience to know that once a man found out how into sports she was—and how much of a tomboy she was—they would be turned off. And this man—this beautiful stranger—looked very much like he hadn’t played a game of sports in his life.

Of course, she had had a few dalliances during her college years—Kiba being one of them—but that was purely out of a bored curiosity on both their parts. They had only ever gotten to second base and had quickly realized how weird—and gross—it was for them to be a couple when they only saw each other as friends.

So yeah, Tenten didn't have a lot of experience with men of this sort of... calibre.

“Are you all right?”

Tenten jumped at hearing his voice so close to her ear. He had leaned down to whisper instead of shouting above the din, and the combination of his breath against her skin and the rumble of his voice had her suppressing another shiver.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” she replied, turning her head towards him only to bite back a gasp at how close they were. His face was mere inches from her own and she could feel each exhale he made caress her cheeks and lips.

Speaking of lips… Tenten licked hers subconsciously and the man’s eyes immediately locked onto the wet appendage. The lavender darkened to an almost violet colour and Tenten stopped breathing altogether as she watched him in stunned fascination.

Another jostle—she really did hate crowded places—this time against her back, had her careening into the stranger in front of her. She was half relieved that her lips didn’t smack his while she fell into his arms, like in one of those silly Korean dramas Sakura made her sit through. But a part of her was also disappointed as well. Why couldn’t she be the heroine of a romance drama, where she is saved by a handsome stranger who falls quickly, deeply, and madly in love with her? Would that be too much to ask?

Of course, if this was a romantic drama, she would no doubt have to fend off a jealous ex-girlfriend and have water thrown at her face by his mother (or grandmother, maybe even both). That was something Tenten wasn’t keen on, and she was glad that real life wasn’t so dramatic.

For the second time in one evening, Tenten extracted herself from the kind stranger, throwing him a brief smile while mumbling a ‘thank you’ that she knew wouldn’t be heard over the noise of the bar. And then, she turned and walked away from him, almost powerwalking the rest of the way to the table.

By the time Tenten made it to Shikamaru’s table, Kiba, Naruto, and Hinata had joined them. Naruto was mumbling something about a ‘cheater’ while Kiba grinned and punched him in the shoulder, looking very chuffed with himself.

“Hi, guys!” Tenten beamed at her friends. Her heart, which had been pounding vigorously since she first laid eyes on the handsome stranger, was finally calming down. She slipped in beside Kiba and he immediately threw his arm around her shoulder, ruffling the hair she had spent all of five minutes brushing and putting into a bun. She sent him a mock glare and shoved her elbow into his ribs.

“We’ve been waiting forever,” he whined. “Where were you?”

Tenten rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started. Temari wanted to get here ‘fashionably late’ for some reason and when we finally arrived, I went to get a drink at the bar only to be stopped by an overly friendly guy who wouldn’t stop talking. It was almost impossible to get away from him.”

“Damn, I would love to have seen that!” Kiba laughed at what Tenten could only assume was an image of her trying to fend off a male admirer and she couldn’t help but feel irritated by it. Why would it be so funny?

“Neji! You’re here!” Hinata jumped out of her seat, rushing over to greet the person whose name sounded vaguely familiar to Tenten, though she couldn’t remember why. She turned in her seat to see who her friend was greeting, curious, and her mouth dropped at the sight before her.

The dark-haired beauty had stopped at the table he was heading to. Not only had she stopped, but she sat down and chatted with them as though they were old friends.

That was unexpected. But finally, her face came to his mind—a photo Hinata had sent to him when she first started college five years ago and met her new roommate. She had told him the roommate was very nice, though a little louder than she was used to, but they got along well. He recognized the face now. She was a little older, of course, and her hair longer, but it was definitely her.

What had Hinata said her name was?

“Neji!” His cousin moved around the booth to fling herself into his arms. It was uncharacteristic behaviour, but he supposed she had been living out in the world for a few years now, so it was only right that she would grow as a person and not be that shy, quiet little girl anymore. The realization hit him hard—she was a woman now. A woman who had a boyfriend, going by her last email to him before his flight back to Japan a week ago.

He smiled as he briefly returned her hug before setting her back down. He noticed the booth full of people watching him, though the blond didn’t seem jealous of their interaction. No doubt Hinata had told her boyfriend that her cousin would be coming tonight.

What did surprise Neji, though, was the flare of jealousy he felt as he watched his dark-haired beauty cuddled up against another man. Her eyes were wide with surprise—no doubt she hadn’t realized he was heading to the same table as she—and the man beside her prodded her shoulder with his free hand, leaning close to her ear to whisper something.

She blushed, a pretty pink that spread over her cheeks, and bit her bottom lip at whatever he had said to her before turning to jab her elbow into his side again.

They seemed very close, but he wasn’t certain whether they were together or just friends. Surely, if he were her boyfriend, she would have told the jerk at the bar and he would have left her alone a lot sooner. Maybe, despite her appearance, she liked the attention of other men on her?

But… no. That didn’t seem right either. She had genuinely looked frustrated when the blond at the bar was flirting with her.

Neji lightened, thinking that perhaps they weren’t a couple after all, though he still sent the guy a glare when he tucked Neji’s dark-haired beauty closer to his side.

“Come and sit down, Neji,” Hinata said, pulling on his hand. “I want to introduce you to my friends. Some of them, anyway. The others are somewhere here, but I’ll introduce you to them later.”

Neji followed her, a little too eagerly if he were to admit it to himself. Not because he cared to know these people. He had enough friends—one friend really, but it was plenty enough for him—but he was curious to learn about one person in particular. And he was more than delighted to find himself sitting directly across from her, her cheeks still flushing prettily as she tried to disentangle her friend’s arm from her shoulder.

Tenten couldn’t keep the blush from her face. Especially not after what Kiba had whispered to her. Now she was desperately trying to move away from him so that Neji—Hinata’s cousin, she finally realized, remembering some photos she had seen of him over the years—didn’t think they were a couple. Was that too late already? They looked pretty friendly together, but that was just because she had known the canine breeder since they were in high school.

She stole a glance at the lavender eyed man across from her as she took a sip of her whiskey while Hinata introduced him to everyone at the table, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was glaring very pointedly at Kiba, who seemed to think it was quite amusing, and he squeezed her shoulder in response to the newcomer’s stare.

“Stop it,” she hissed, turning to send him a glare of her own. She thrilled to think that Neji could be jealous of the attention Kiba was giving her, but she also hated the thought that he might believe they were dating.

Kiba grinned at her attempts to push him away, leaning closer to her ear again. “This is so much fun, Tenten,” he chuckled. “He barely knows you and he’s already this jealous. Should we see if we can make him hit me?”

“He won’t need to. I want to hit you already.” She stood abruptly, pulling him up by his collar as she went. “Go dance or something.”

The pout he sent her way usually had her caving in seconds, giving in to any of the crazy schemes that he cooked up in that brain of his, but she wouldn’t be swayed this time. She really liked this guy—despite having only just met him—and she didn’t want her idiot of a best friend ruining any slim chance she might have.

His pout turned into a grin, as if he could read her thoughts, and he sent her a wink, causing her blush to reignite as his words rushed back to her head. Damn, Tenten, he had whispered. He looks like he’s undressing you with his eyes. You gonna go home with him?

She most certainly would not be going home with him, but she couldn’t deny that Kiba’s words—and the idea that this extremely handsome man found her attractive enough to imagine her naked—had heat curling through her belly that had nothing to do with the whiskey.

Tenten was glad to see the back of her infuriating friend, and she sat back down with a sigh, forgetting to even try and look graceful. She inwardly winced, but then decided that it shouldn’t matter. If he wasn’t going to like her for who she was, then he wasn’t worth it.

Deciding it would be best to distract herself, she turned to face Shikamaru, who hadn’t said a word since she had taken a seat at the booth. “You aren’t with Temari tonight?”

Shikamaru replied with a roll of his eyes, but she could see the hurt in their depth when he looked at her. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. I’m in the doghouse.”

Oh. Tenten thought back to when they were getting ready for the evening. Temari had seemed a little more subdued than usual, but Tenten hadn’t thought anything of it. Now she felt like a cow. “What happened?”

“She said I forgot our anniversary.”

“What?” Tenten stared at him in shock. “You forgot your anniversary? Don’t you realize how special anniversaries are for women? Especially your first!”

“I know,” Shikamaru replied, practically growling as he glared at her. “And I didn’t forget. She’s the one who got the dates wrong.”

Tenten almost spat out the whiskey she was sipping, partly due to her friend’s words and partly because of a foot that had started to make its way up her leg, caressing it. She sent a wide-eyed glance at Neji, who remained impassive at the conversation going on around him as he stared back at her. She felt her face heating again and determined to concentrate on Shikamaru and his tale of forgotten anniversaries. That was much easier to deal with than a very handsome man playing footsies with her under the table.

“Why do you think she got the dates wrong?”

This time a sigh accompanied his eye roll, and Tenten could read his lips as he muttered a quiet ‘so troublesome’ under his breath. “One year ago today, we went on our first date, but I didn’t officially ask her out until a week later. So technically, our anniversary isn’t until next Saturday. But she is being too stubborn to even listen to me.”

That made sense. Tenten wasn’t sure what she would think in that situation. She could understand both sides of the story, and despite feeling sorry for Shikamaru, it was also amusing.

“If Temari is refusing to listen to you, why don’t you send her a message saying what you just told me. But leave out the ‘being too stubborn’ part. I’ll talk to her tomorrow as well and let her know about the misunderstanding just in case she refuses to read your message.” Tenten reached over to pat her friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Shikamaru. She’ll forgive you in no time. Just… make sure you make the anniversary day extra special for her, okay?” She glanced to the other side of Shikamaru. “When did Shino leave?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. When we were talking, maybe. Anyway,” he stood up from his seat, taking a moment to stretch his arms over his head. “I’m going to go. I’ve already said congratulations to the happy couple, and it’s way past when I usually go to bed.”

“Drive safely. And don’t forget to message Temari.” Tenten called to his retreating back.

She had forgotten about the foot sliding up and down her leg during her conversation, but now, as she realized it was only the two of them left at the booth, it was the only thing on her mind. Despite her jeans and Neji’s shoes, Tenten still managed to shiver from the contact, and it took her far too long to build up the courage to meet his enchanting gaze.

“Hi,” she said, loud enough for him to hear but not so loud that she was yelling.

He smirked in response, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her sudden shyness or the fact that they were finally alone together. “Hi,” he replied easily, his smooth voice warming her body far better than any glass of whiskey could.

Tenten hadn’t realized she had a weakness for voices until she met Neji. Or maybe it was just his voice she had a weakness for. “So, you went to a college overseas?” She knew it was an asinine question to ask, but she had to say something.

Neji stood slowly and Tenten felt a pang of hurt that he was leaving after she had asked him a question. But no, he wasn’t leaving at all. Instead, he made his way to her side of the booth and slid in beside her, his arm resting casually against the back of the bench behind her head.

He leaned in until he could speak without having to raise his voice. “It is a little frustrating having to talk over the noise. You do not mind this, do you?”

Mind it? Tenten was afraid she was about to swoon by being so close to him, while a part of her—a wild, reckless part that she hadn’t even known she possessed—wanted to crawl into his lap and sift her fingers through his hair. Would it be as soft to touch as it looked?

She managed to nod a response and watched as that smirk touched his lips again. And damn if she didn’t find that extremely hot.

“To answer your question,” he continued, settling back against the bench as though he owned it. “Yes. I went to college in Sydney, Australia.”

“Wow, that’s cool! Did Hinata ever think of going overseas to study?” Tenten couldn’t even imagine how expensive an overseas college life would be, but she was also jealous that he had already travelled so far despite being so young.

“Her father tried to pressure her into going, but she was too shy. She would not have handled another country very well.”

No, she wouldn’t have. Tenten remembered her first meeting with the woman. Hinata had barely spoken two sentences to her, and Tenten had to pry even those out of her. She had truly come a long way in five years.

“What about you?” he asked. She felt a lock of her hair being twined around a finger and blushed but didn’t comment on it. Unlike the man from earlier, Neji didn’t make her feel uncomfortable at all. “What was your major?”

Of course, he had to go and ask that. The one question she was embarrassed to answer. Not usually, of course, but for once, she had wished she had chosen a major that was a little more attractive. “I majored in Physical Education.” She couldn’t look at him as she said it, her eyes finding a pile of crumbs on the table and staring at that instead. “I like sports and I want to teach kids to enjoy it as well.”

“That is commendable,” he replied, shocking her. What shocked her more was when he tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. “But why do you look like this is something to be ashamed of?”

“I-I’m not ashamed of it. I just,” she bit her lip, working it with her teeth until his finger pried it out of her mouth. His finger lingered on her lip, smoothing soft lines against it as if to erase the damage her teeth may have done before letting his hand drop. “Guys don’t seem to like the fact that I’m athletic. I think they’re intimidated or something.” She shrugged, eyes once again breaking contact with his. “I’m not one of those girls who just does Yoga or Pilates to maintain a healthy body. Ever since high school, I’ve competed in a variety of different sports, and I join a lot of marathons each year.”

He was silent for some time, long enough that Tenten began to regret saying so much. Her eyes found his again, unable to take the silence any longer, only to find him staring at her in serious contemplation.

“And men find this… unappealing?” he asked. She would have thought he was mocking her, except he had voiced the question with such seriousness, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes as though he couldn’t quite understand.

“Yes. They say they’re fine with it, up until they see me actually participating in some form of sports.” Tenten snorted, unable to help herself. “They especially don’t like it when I beat them at something. Apparently, it hurts their manly pride.”

“Ah.” He leaned back slightly, his eyebrows lifting as he took in her words. Part of her wondered if he was just like every other man she had known, but he was still twirling a lock of hair around his finger, and he seemed to have moved his arm so it was resting over her shoulders instead of the back of the bench. Surely, that was a good sign, right?

He was still staring at her as well, and Tenten was beginning to squirm under his scrutiny. “Anyway, that’s me. Tell me about yourself.”

Instead of replying to her question, he asked one of his own. “You are not dating that… Kiba, was it?”

Tenten couldn’t help laughing. They had tried a few years ago, but it had felt wrong to both of them, and they realized they were better off as friends. “God, no. Kiba is a good friend of mine. We’ve known each other for years, but that’s it.”

“Good.”

Tenten’s eyes widened in shock at his admission. Neji sent her a smile, looking uncertain for the first time that evening until she smiled at him in return.

He untangled his fingers from her hair and pressed his hand against her neck, drawing her closer to him. Tenten’s breath caught at his boldness, unused to men being so forward with her. Well, there had been that guy at the bar, but she hadn’t been interested in him at all. This man, however, made her feel weak at the knees and she didn’t mind one bit when his intense gaze never strayed from her face.

Was it possible to melt into a puddle by just a look?

Neji’s gaze flicked to her lips briefly before meeting her eyes again. “I find a strong woman very attractive,” he admitted, no trace of embarrassment on his features at the confession.

“You do?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but they were so close now that she knew he would hear her. Her heart pounded in her chest at his words, both elated and suspicious at the same time. How did she know he would stay true to them?

Fingers caressed a path along her cheek, and her entire vision was filled up by him. It was as though the loudness of the bar faded into the background and it was just the two of them alone, and Tenten decided she very much liked that idea.

Neji couldn’t get over how beautiful Tenten was, and for the first time, he regretted not visiting more often over the years. If he had—and if he had taken an interest in learning his cousin’s friends—he could have met Tenten a lot sooner. The knowledge that she had been here this whole time without his knowledge caused a blinding need within him. Not just a sexual need—though he couldn’t deny that was part of it—but a need to make up for all the time they had lost by being separated. Now that he was living here permanently again, he would make that happen. If she was willing, of course.

“Most definitely,” Neji replied, his voice dropping to a seductive purr as his eyes once again found her lips. He was dying to kiss her, but not until she was convinced that he was telling the truth. Would she mind if he told her that her physical prowess turned him on? “Besides,” he continued. “There is only one particular physical activity that I care to excel in.”

His smile widened a notch at seeing that pretty pink flush cover her cheeks as his words sunk in. He could see her mind working as she pictured just what sort of physical activity he was referring to. He couldn’t stop his own mind from wandering there, and he felt blood rush to his loins at the images that ran through his mind.

He couldn’t possibly have been referring to sex, could he? But even as Tenten tried to dissuade herself of the thought, she knew that had been exactly what he meant. “Do you?” The question was out of her mouth before she even had time to ponder it, and her face flushed anew as the desire to bury herself under the table consumed her.

“Do I?” he repeated, an eyebrow cocked as he tried to piece together her meaning. She knew exactly when he had, a slow smirk forming on his lips as his eyes turned violet once more. “I assure you, my chocolate-eyed beauty, that I am very adept at that form of activity.”

Tenten feared that he would be able to hear the pounding of her heart as he moved closer, until their faces were inches apart. Was he finally going to kiss her? Her eyes locked onto his lips and her tongue reached out to wet hers in preparation.

A low noise rumbled from the back of Neji’s throat. “You are teasing me, Tenten.”

“S-sorry, I’m not meaning to.” She darted her gaze away from his lips to rest on his shoulder.

“We just have one last item left to discuss,” he rumbled, and Tenten’s eyes flew back to his face, confused. What was left to talk about? He seemed tense, as though it was taking all his effort to stay completely still and not close the small gap between them. “Are you looking for a temporary companion, or a long-term one?”

“If you’re meaning whether I want a one-night stand,” she replied, finding the strength to maintain eye contact. “The answer is no. I don’t do one-night stands. But I also don’t have sex on the first date, either.”

Neji’s eyes sparkled at her words. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t our first date. Or are you imagining that it is? Should I ask you to be my girlfriend now, so that there is no confusion when the anniversary comes around?”

Tenten laughed at his reference to Shikamaru and Temari’s dilemma. She didn’t think he had been paying attention, and her heart warmed at the thought that they could be together long enough to have an anniversary. Tenten’s eyes closed to half-mast and she could hear the sultry tone to her voice as she answered, “I don’t think it would hurt leaving it until tomorrow.”

“Good,” came Neji’s whispered reply a moment before he finally closed the gap and kissed her.

It looks like I might just be going home with him tonight, after all.

#Nejiten #Nejiten Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Why is Deidara always the bad guy in my stories?#I wanted to write a bit of sauciness without full on smut #Also Tenten isn't compromising her morals at the end of the story #She just found a loophole so she could enjoy the best of both worlds #Just in case you didn't get that

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unikornu · 3 years

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3, 26, 37, 57, 87, 129, 181, 210? c:

Ha, my time now, bitches. Lol, thank you for ask!

3. Zodiac sign?

Virgo, never liked it as a kid...not badass enough.

26: Favourite season?

Before it was summer but with getting sick and job at shelter the warmth got unbearable to stand so now its autumn. The temperature is just right, colors are beautiful, i don’t mind rain and i actually like the fact it gets dark faster. I like it dark.

37: Favourite TV shows as a child?

Sex and the City (yes i watched as a kid lol), Firefly, Goosebumps, Samurai Jack, Teen Titans, Justice League, i mostly just watched what i could when tv pilot wasn’t in my father’s possession or when he was okay with stuff like Naruto and so on. And i mostly did sit on computer anyway.

57: Favourite drink?

Capitan Morgan baby. Yarrrr mixed with literally anything that is sweet or acidic. I go simple on drinks.

87. Favourite comic book character?

Hard to pick just one but i will go for Jesse Custer from Preacher. Aside from Scalp its my favorite comic so far. I like superheroes like Venom too but i prefer like more mortal characters having some weird powers and a cool humor along with crazy gang of fucked up people.

129. Forest or beach?

Beach cus no shoes necessary and due to my disease i love walking with no shoes and in sand but where i live there are just forests and mountains *sad face.

181. If I could get away with a crime, what would I choose to do?

Ohohohoho oh boy i don’t know what i wouldn’t do. I would start by beating to pulp a guy who complained today to my dog to not piss next to his block like wtf. Get lost and let my dog piss in peace where she feels like as long as its public property. If ya want serious issue in your life to complain about let me break one of your bones. I’m fairly vulgar and not caring person so the law is like the only thing keeping me from punching people around or pushing them off the stairs, i have so little respect to people bothering me about stupid shit or complaining about no important matters that i have to keep biting my tongue on daily basis. But that’s another shit that came once i got sick and have no cure for my disease. I just don’t give a damn and became extremely honest to a limit that law allows me to :) I’m nice if people are nice and i swear and threaten if people are bitches but with double power.

210. What is on my bucket list?

Sadly i never focus on having one. The constant thing in my bucket is to maintain my physical fitness form up as well as mental, be always able to work at shelter or wherever life takes me and be independent when it comes to having my own money, roof up my head and a cool pc to keep playing dem games. I stopped dreaming about other goals like dream job or whatever from the moment my life turned 180 degrees, ending up in a hospital with diagnosis of uncurbable autoimmune disease just like that at age of 21 or so, right when i was suppose to get a first job, finishing my beautician 3 years course. All of this went to shit.

So my bucket has like a long scroll with one hundreds lines saying the same thing: “Get up, don’t let down, keep going, you can do this, survive yourself” because my own body literally breaks me from inside. So far i got to work around myself well. I went from walking by a cane, barely doing groceries to carry half the day bags of 15 kg’s for my dogs around but i have a moments i’m down to zero so i have to splash that bucket all over again.

I know bucket list is suppose be of like things i want to do before i die but....honestly from the bottom of my heart every day i live like a normal person forgetting i have a disease is already a hell of a experience for me. No matter where i travel, who i meet and so on if i can get to it again without stumbling upon health problems i will be fucking happy and check it out.

#rockshortage #unicornu #ask meme bout me <3 #cheers #sorry i dont have a bucket list like..a general person #but my life is fucking weird

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Seventy-Two: Future ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

Many years ago, Uchiha Sasuke did not consider the future outside of a singular idea. That being the vengeance gained for his slaughtered clan when he finally eliminated their murderer: his elder brother, Itachi. A secondary goal to restore his clan was...vague and half-hearted at best. Partially because he didn’t yet realize just what such a goal would take. Partially because he knew full well that he may die in pursuit of his revenge.

And partially because he had no romantic inclinations until late into his teens.

Sasuke spent nearly every day after his release from Konoha’s hospital a few days after the massacre training, one way or another. Be it practicing his taijutsu, his bukijutsu, his ninjutsu. Or doing extensive study on any subject that offered an inkling of advantage. Seals, chakra rationing, even the history of Konoha and his clan. He couldn’t waste a single moment...because every one he let slip away was another spent with his clan in turmoil, surely trapped in a kind of limbo while they awaited justice for their untimely deaths, from elders to children.

He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let them down.

Beyond his eventual goal, Sasuke took life one day at a time. Get up, eat, train, eat, clean himself up, sleep...repeat. Barely any variation save for whatever obstacles life threw at him. His time at the Academy was spent obsessively studying and practicing. Upon being assigned a genin team, he felt held back by immature missions, and even more immature teammates. Even his sensei seemed too aloof, not giving his goal true consideration. Kakashi didn’t seem to care that Sasuke was so driven. He still held him to the same standards - the same routines - as the dead-last and the annoying girl that was far more focused on him than her shinobi career.

He became so blinkered, that any interruption - any waste of time - was unforgivable. Naruto’s incessant bickering was infuriating. Sakura’s attempts to distract him for her own selfish desires were aggravating. Kakashi’s lack of drive and refusal to take him seriously was a source of constant irritation. Naruto called himself his friend. Sakura claimed to love him. Kakashi, once things got bad enough, tried to relate to Sasuke and his own childhood actions.

But none of them...none of them truly understood. And it was clear in their actions. In no way did they attempt to help him. Instead, they impeded him at every given opportunity.

And yet…

...and yet…

Buried beneath the anger, the hurt, the obsession...was the same caring little boy that fed stray cats in the Uchiha compound, and spoke softly to his classmates, and eagerly vied for the attention of his peers and betters. Because at the root of Uchiha Sasuke’s character...was a deep and unbreakable caring for people.

Why else would be try so hard for people now dead? Because he loved them. Because their deaths were a grave injustice. Everything else? The hatred, the fury, the drive? Was to shelter and protect that ideal from the corruption of his brother. He had to hate him. Had to be angry. Had to strive every moment of every day, or he would fail.

Fail them.

So, despite the aggravations they caused him, despite the impediment of his goals, despite his overall annoyance toward his team...they were his team. They were, in some sense, like family. It’s why he threw himself between Haku’s needles and Naruto. Why he fought so hard against Gaara to save Sakura’s life. Why he tried so hard when Kakashi finally took him for solo training. These people, whether he liked them or not, were tied to him. And he couldn’t deny that.

Not even when he left.

They were the first glimmers of hope for a future. That maybe something could exist for him when all was said and done. When the Uchiha were avenged, maybe...he could shed his layers he’d built up to protect that core.

But until then, to save himself - to save them - he cut his ties. Nothing could hold him back from this destiny. This goal. This purpose that had become the center of his very being.

And just as he thought justice was his - just as Itachi lay dead at his feet - everything shattered.

...everything.

Itachi was not the culprit. He was the puppet. The puppet of the village Sasuke had been born in, grown in. They had betrayed their own, ignoring their abuse and their wants for freedom...and met them instead with blades and subterfuge.

...and what did his team do when they learned this truth?

Nothing.

That...had been a blow almost akin to learning that truth. The betrayal Sasuke felt when Naruto knew that Konoha had killed his clan, and yet still tried to drag him ‘home’. The audacity of Sakura trying to end his path for justice by killing him, to put him out of his misery…? The sheer hypocrisy of Kakashi, too loyal to a bloody-handed village to see why Sasuke abandoned them - they who chose Konoha over their teammate, friend, love, student - was too much.

In that moment...he truly did hate them.

And those dreams of that future died in the fires of that hate.

How dare they…? How dare they?! How dare any of them uphold a system that produced the most virulent ‘villains’ of the ages? Madara, Obito, even Sasuke himself in some minds...all products of the shinobi system and its broken ideas of loyalty and servitude to the state...even if it means wiping out a bloodline long used and abused by the village they helped create.

So Sasuke saw a new future. One with a slate wiped clean. Dead kage, dismantled villages...whatever it took to destroy that which had made his monster.

And who would stop him...but Naruto?

Even with the ultimate powers granted to him, Sasuke still couldn’t best him. It felt cruel. To be once again shackled to Konoha, to the system of shinobi. It was either that, or death. And death was no future.

So...he gave in.

...but not completely.

Upon the return of Itachi, raised from the grave, Sasuke found - at last - his final calling. To see Konoha’s shadows burned in the light of truth and justice. They would confront the council. They would reveal the truth behind the massacre. Itachi would be pardoned and seen for the hero he truly was: someone forced to make an impossible choice by killing the few to save the many. Neither of them were perfect, and neither claimed to be. But both were done wrong by the village they’d been born in. Given so much of their lives to.

And if Sasuke could not change the world...he would change Konoha.

They had allies. The Hyūga stood with them, debts owed thrice over to one of their own. Cousin clans stood together to shed light on the past.

And it was that act that revealed to Sasuke - even if time would have to pass before he realized - the largest part of his true future.

Hinata had been a virtual stranger. There had been brief meetings during clan talks, and they’d attended the Academy together. Took their first chūnin exams together. But they had never really talked. Sasuke had no recollection of her, really, upon his return to Konoha outside a vague impression of a quiet, shy, but seemingly good-hearted little girl.

A girl who had grown into a fierce defender of what she believed in, and the people she cared for. Whose gentle nature was backed by an iron will. In some ways...she reminded him of himself. He had a basic respect for her, especially as she worked with their clan to help bolster them in their singular numbers. She wasn’t overbearing like many of her clansmen, but instead warm and diligent, paying close attention to the needs and comforts of others.

She was...calming. Quiet, like himself, they could sit in a companionable silence when brought together: be it for clan business, or being dragged along by shared friends or acquaintances. Her temper meshed against his own almost shockingly well. And while everyone else walked on eggshells, she simply went on like business as usual.

It was unbelievably refreshing.

For the first time, he felt he could be heard. He didn’t have to bicker with her like Naruto. He didn’t have to know he wasn’t being listened to like with Sakura. She treated him like she treated everyone else. And their parallels served as a basis of understanding he’d really found in no one else, not even Naruto.

Once he realized how well they got on...he sought her out like a plant in a dark room, reaching for a crack bleeding light. Everything about her just felt...right. Comforting. Comfortable. Nothing forced, nothing expected, just...someone who listened. Who understood.

...and then he realized that he loved her. In his nineteen years, he’d never felt love like that before. Love for family, yes. Love for friends, sure. But love in another half? In someone who made him feel...whole?

...he was terrified.

Partly due to inexperience. Partly due to a fear of driving her away. But mostly due to fearing his reputation’s effect on her own.

But Hinata, of course, refuted it as soon as he brought it up. Her life had nearly been lost so many times...and several times in pursuit of a love never returned. But now, she had someone who made her feel seen. Who she didn’t have to fight for his attention. She and Sasuke just...worked. Never had she felt so connected to and understood by someone. There would be - could be - no one else. And she would gladly risk her reputation - or her life - for such a love.

...so he agreed. And together, they took their first steps into a future for two.

.oOo.

Phew, finally done with this one! I'm still technically a day late (and probably will be for...quite some time as I do another ship month for October), but at least I'm more caught up than I was lol This piece is more...narrative and introspective. I love love LOVE getting inside Sasuke's mind. He's such an intriguing character to me. Even more so, admittedly, than Hinata (though I still love her to pieces). I love thinking about and studying his story, and imagining how it could go post-war in another verse with Hinata. Even recently I've changed a small portion of my view of him yet again - seems he's still evolving for me, even after all this time. There's just so much potential for expansion for him...and so much of it wasted in canon by Kishi just sweeping everything tidily after 699. It really irks me xD But, it's late and I'm rambling! Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 5/18 Word count: 1956 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI in the blog header!

Chapter 5

The seals on his wrists were hasty and clumsy, no sophistication in the symbols. They were drawn in the fashion of someone copying an image without truly knowing the meaning behind it. Someone in the Uchiha had clearly gotten their hands on some kind of chakra suppressant seal to use as an example but it was obvious that none here were masters of the art. Any self-respecting seal master would have cried themselves to sleep at just the thought of having their work bastardized as much as the mock cuffs that had been forced upon him the moment he woke up after his last visit from the two brothers.

Not to say that they didn’t work. Sophisticated or not the seals accomplished what they were meant to. He could feel his chakra seething just under the surface, boiling and rolling and crashing against the barrier they made like water breaks against a cliff, but they were sufficient to keep him from releasing anything and thus he remained powerless. Maybe if he hadn’t spent the last month motionless and flopping about on the floor letting his muscles atrophy then he might have been physically strong enough to think about another route for escape. Hindsight had always been a bitch.

All things considered, though, his situation wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. He had expected his jailors to drive him hard with impossible tasks but Madara hadn’t lied when he talked about hauling laundry around. It earned him all sorts of different looks, from curious to barely concealed distaste, but he supposed he could understand that. He too would have stopped to stare upon seeing his ancestral enemy waltzing through the compound to go wash clothes in the little stream running through the western quadrant. Knowing he would have done the same did not stop him from making each trip with a stiff back and a constant frown of discomfort, hating the feeling of so many hostile eyes on his back. It seemed a miracle that no one had yet tried to attack him while he was vulnerable. Whether they refrained because Madara had warned them to leave him unharmed or whether they all simply enjoyed seeing him lowered to this state had yet to be determined.

Tobirama hurried back to the Head family home as quickly today as he had every morning for the past couple of weeks. Working for Madara wasn’t so bad as long as he was able to keep his pride in check. And doing that was easy enough when he reminded himself that he was literally nothing now, no clan name to back him, no authority to wield. Honest work was about the only option he had left, though if he had found honest work anywhere else he would certainly have expected to be paid for it, but even if he would hesitate to admit it he was grateful in a strange way for a break from the horrors of the battlefield. So far the work he had been given was mostly house chores and it was a novel thing not to wash blood from his skin at the end of every day.

Letting himself passed the front gate of Madara’s home, Tobirama first made his way around to the backyard to hang the clean clothing up to dry. When the line was full and his basket empty he went in through the back door, eyed the dishes in the sink, and then dismissed them in favor of wandering down the hall towards Madara’s office. Easy his duties might be but some of them were still abhorrent. That particular chore could wait until the end of the day when he could get rid of them all at once.

Madara’s office was cushier than his own workspace had been in the Senju compound, one corner of the room piled high with pillows in case the man was too tired to crawl down the hallway to his bedroom at night, the other wall lined with squat bookshelves and ancient weaponry hung like decorations above. Tobirama made his way straight towards the pillows to flop down and stare morosely at the man kneeling at his desk, right under the window where he could make full use of whatever daylight came filtering through the protective mesh screens.

“Done?” Madara asked, not lifting his gaze from whatever he was reading.

“Clearly,” Tobirama drawled in return. Then he sank further down in to the pillows and closed his eyes to sulk pointedly.

“Hmm, that was quick.”

“Didn’t feel quick. Why do your clothes always require extra scrubbing?”

Madara chuckled. “I make sure they’re extra dirty just to frustrate you.”

Even if he knew that wasn’t true, it still sounded enough like something he would do that Tobirama gave a low noise of disgust. Actually he had noticed it was really Izuna’s clothing that always took longer to clean and from the dirt stains in certain places he suspected a harsh training regimen as the culprit. He hadn’t yet found the courage to ask whether his rival had always trained this often or if it was a newly developed habit; he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Was he supposed to feel guilty about how much damage the man could do in battle without himself there as a shield, an equal force to cancel out the deaths either of them were capable of causing in a single encounter?

As if sensing his thoughts spiraling downwards again, Madara grunted from across the room and Tobirama opened his eyes just in time to catch the scroll that had been tossed at his head.

“You’re supposed to be a genius, right? Here’s your next chore.”

When he opened it to find columns of messily scrawled numbers he lifted one eyebrow with conflicted reactions warring inside him.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to let the prisoner do your accounting?” he asked. Madara waved his question off with one hand, still engrossed in his own work.

“There’s no names on there to tell you who our suppliers are, no locations to give away. It’s just numbers. You’re a scientist, shouldn’t you be good at numbers?” The man shrugged carelessly. “Reckon the columns and you can take a break. Just make sure you’re back here to cook dinner.”

“Seriously?”

“Like I said: they’re just numbers. What harm could you do knowing how much we spent on food the past few months?”

Tobirama held his breath, unrolling the scroll to take a second look. There was a lot of damage he could cause with these numbers, actually. Many people would pay handsomely for even small information like this; he could think of a dozen different weaknesses he could assume from just food budgets alone. He would have liked to say he could buy his way back in to the Senju’s good graces by providing them with inside information but he wasn’t that stupid. They weren’t that easily bought, as much as he wished suddenly that they were. Since the scroll in his hands was as good a distraction as any against such musings he buried himself in the task given to him without complaint.

It was oddly nice to be given something to do that used his brain again after so long. Working out simple arithmetic wasn’t exactly a challenge but the routine calculations were time consuming and it was better mental exercise than wondering what he could add to his detergent that would make the laundry a little softer once it dried.

When the damnable seals had first been applied to his wrists and he realized Madara was serious about putting him to work he had thought perhaps they intended to take advantage of his mind. He’d been infamous from a young age for his genius and his knack for creating new jutsu, new weapons, and for the sealing skills he had cultivated with the aid of books sent to him by their Uzumaki allies. As much as he appreciated not being forced to bring those skills to bear in a war that would inevitably find its way to the people he once loved, household chores did get boring after a while. Being asked to help with the accounting was almost like Madara was granting him a treat for good behavior.

He avoided mentioning that in case the fool grew contrary and took it away.

Although it only took him twenty or so minutes to work through the entirety of the small portion he’d been given, Tobirama neglected to mention he was finished for another couple of minutes, taking an opportunity to quietly study the other man in the room. Madara was more of a mystery to him every day. The most Tobirama had ever known of him before was a screaming battle persona and the exaggerated memories Hashirama liked to wax poetic about every so often. He had expected his time under the man’s thumb to leave him bone-weary at the end of every day from bring run in to the ground with work; he had expected to be humiliated and degraded, to have his temper tried at every turn.

Reality was much harder to wrap his head around. Madara was calm in the moments between the never ending string of disasters that made up his life. For making such an impressive figure in battle he was incredibly goofy in everyday life. He woke with his hair sticking out at funny angles and walked in to walls before consuming his morning coffee. He sat down on pins the clan children left on his cushion and hung his body out the window to shout at them without a care for how it left his rump on comical display. He tripped on rocks and absently stabbed people with chopsticks while making gestures and even stood on his own hair sometimes when he tried to get up from his desk.

But in the moments around those, when he was still and there was no one to disturb him, he was as calm and poised as any clan head should be. Under the screaming and the wild mane there was a good head with a smart brain. Beneath that lay a bleeding heart that gave in to a good set of pleading puppy eyes faster than Tobirama had ever seen.

Had he been captured by any other clan at odds with the Senju, Tobirama knew very well that most would not have taken the time to hear his story let alone believed him enough to look in to it themselves. And even less would have seen any point in keeping him alive once they realized that he could be of no use as a bargaining chip. Maybe Madara really did just want a slave to keep his house clean and his yard tidy but he was a kinder master than Tobirama would have found in anyone else. If he had been given the option to choose his own path he would have chosen death in an instant. But if he had to choose his own captivity, as much as he hated to admit it, he would choose Madara a hundred times over.

At least, based on his experience so far.

Warm and comfortable in the mountain of pillows he had sunk his body in to, Tobirama never noticed he was falling asleep in the midday sun until his eyes slid closed and he was already gone. The scroll of accounts slipped from his fingers to roll gently across the floor and bump in to Madara’s knee but Tobirama was not awake to see the soft look in those dark eyes as his greatest enemy sat and watched him sleep away the afternoon.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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kuriquinn · 5 years

Text

An Inch of Gold [29/?]

Author's Note: As usual, unedited. And it's a little shorter than the other chapters, but I'm sure I'll fix that when I come through with the final edits. For now, just enjoy! (Woot, my November Nano Challenge to finish IOG is shaping up well!)

Estimated Time To End of Fic: 4-5 Chapters

Posted to FF.Net / Ao3 / Wattpad

Sarada’s fist connects with the wall, the power of her tightly controlled chakra surging out of her with purpose. Sweat beads upon her forehead as she concentrates all of her being on maintaining a constant force, of hitting that one spot in the wall just the right way.

Cracks spiderweb outward, tearing across the uneven stone and rippling across floor and ceiling. The solid layers of stone beneath bend and strain against the pressure exerted by her strike, and finally give.

Cracks split open, slicing through the seals upon the vortices of the ward circle on the ceiling and floor. The intricate characters vanish at the same time as the barrier is broken.

Boruto tosses a shuriken into the space once occupied by the circle, and it bounces to the ground without a scratch.

The disintegration field is turned off.

“Nice!” Boruto cries, and immediately starts toward the cage. “Alright, let’s blow this thing!” Again, wind gathers in his palm, preparing to hurl one of his vanishing projectiles, but Sarada stops him.

“Don’t just destroy it,” she says.

“What? Are you kidding me?! That’s the whole reason we came down here!”

“You can only destroy it once. What happens if the whole thing has become self-sustaining, or there’s a back-up that can only be turned off by the main computer? Then it won’t matter if you destroy this machine! Let’s try turning it off before we blow it up.”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“Actually, I think time has become completely irrelevant,” Mitsuki remarks.

“Fine. Time issues aside, I like existing. What happens if you destroy it and we get ripped apart by some kind of fallout?”

This causes Mitsuki to pause. “That makes sense. It might be, this machine acts like a giant magnet. Suddenly reversing the poles of a magnet can cause attraction and pull them together—possibly causing them to crash into each other.”

“And we don’t want anything crashing or exploding into us! What if the machine suddenly stops pushing the paradox outward? It might contract in on us. But maybe if we slowly turn it off, the damage could be lessened.”

“Even if that were the case, none of us are exactly geniuses with computers,” Boruto points out in irritation. “Without someone like Denki, we could stand here pressing buttons for ages.”

“I believe I could figure it out,” Mitsuki volunteers.

“Huh? You?”

“I grew up surrounded by computers. And this model looks familiar. I suspect it even runs on the same operating system. I could probably find a function that allows for a slow decrease of power-levels.”

Boruto doesn’t look entirely convinced, and Sarada finds her suspicions about Mitsuki’s background swimming to the forefront of her mind just then.

We don’t have time for that conversation.

“I still think we should blow it up,” Boruto mutters, but he approaches the cage around the terminal and begins to pick the lock on it.

“We can still do that if Mitsuki doesn’t figure out another way,” Sarada insists.

The pale boy takes up a position in front of the terminal, studying the small, bright green digital characters. A beat later, his fingers begin to fly across the key-pad beneath the screen. Boruto and Sarada position themselves in front of the entrance, in case any other unwanted guests burst in on them.

Their caution seems justified when they hear the clank noise of movement on the metal scaffolding outside, growing louder and closer with every second. Sarada cracks her knuckles, the Sharingan activating so she can track whatever threat comes at them. Boruto’s fingers spark with yellow electricity, not wanting to risk the destruction on the cavern that a wind-based attack might cause.

And then the entrance darkens with the shapes of three figures, but they are not the curse-seal creatures. Mama, Konohamaru and—

“Mom?!” Boruto yelps in shock, taking in the startling figure that is his mother. Only she barely resembles her: blood has slicked her hair to her neck and head, though some effort has been made to clean up, and her clothing is likewise drenched. “What happened?! Are you okay?”

He darts forward, attack forgotten, and Sarada relaxes as well as the adults duck into the grotto with them.

“I’m fine,” Aunt Hinata insists. “There was…a bit of a mess.”

“No kidding!”

“At any rate, we’re done with all those curse marked monsters,” Konohamaru says. “So let’s hear it for small victories, hey?”

“What’s going on here?” Mama asks. “I thought you three went after Naruto and Sasuke?”

“We did,” Boruto said. “But when we got up there, that Teisoko creep had them frozen in a pocket of time! It’s like a sphere all the way around her, and if we tried to get in, we would have been frozen too!”

“So I figured it might be a better idea to stop whatever power source is allowing her to maintain that time field. Then we can free Papa and Uncle Naruto and they can deal with her and Jikken!”

“But how are you intending to stop it?” Konohamaru asks, glancing over at Mitsuki.

“I’m trying to find the proper command for a gradual shutdown, instead of a forced shutdown,” Mitsuki says.

“We’re worried doing that might cause a rebound of some kind,” Sarada explains.

“Yeah, well, I’m more worried that Jikken and Teisoko are going to make mincemeat out of Mom and Dad’s past-selves, but then I was overruled—”

“What did you say?” Mama interrupts Boruto, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah, your past-selves got the brilliant idea to use Teisoko’s portal opening and Old Man Kakashi’s Sharingan to stick themselves right in the middle of everything,” Boruto complains. “I don’t know what they did, but it knocked Kakashi out, and—”

“They’ll be killed!” Hinata gasps.

“Probably,” Mitsuki says, still frowning at the tiny screen. “Since everyone is still here, it hasn’t happened yet, however the odds are not favorable.”

“Then we don’t have time,” Mama says. “That machine has to stop, and it has to stop now.”

“But…” Sarada begins.

“Normally I’d agree that the careful approach is best, Sarada, but right now, every second counts. If we don’t act now, our past selves and Kakashi-sensei are dead.”

“But what I we all explode?”

“Winking out of existence quietly or in an explosion, it’s the same result. If I had to gamble on what course of action is most likely to save everyone…” Mama shakes her head. “Mitsuki, please move aside while I deal with this.”

“Yes! Aunt Sakura rocks!” Boruto cheers, while Mitsuki shrugs and moves away. Whatever happened to him during his captivity, he has recovered himself enough that his temperate and agreeable nature has returned. And more than happy to once again align himself with Boruto.

Sarada is still hesitant about the whole thing, but she lets Aunt Hinata move her and the rest of the team out of the cavern. From a safe distance, they watch as Mama strides forward and bends the bars around the computer terminal with ease. Then, she shoves her fists into the computer.

Circuits fry and crackle around her, and smoke spews from the broken terminal, but she doesn’t stop, reaching further in and parting metal and wire as if its were cottage cheese. Then with a yank, she pulls the whole thing out of the wall—along with a significant portion of thick, black metal piping.

The cables within the pipe are as thick as Sarada’s thigh, and lead upward through the stone, radiating electricity and a familiar golden chakra. Once Mama yanks the computer terminal away, though, the bright energy fizzles and disappears.

Silence echoes all around them, and Sarada’s ears pop, the omnipresent hum she barely noticed before now gone.

Then, something begins to rumble.

It starts within the room where Mama continues to stand, and the ceiling starts to crack and crumble in earnest, the gap where the giant pipes were laid folding in on itself.

“Move!” Mama yells, and drops the terminal to one side, before diving from the cavern, just in time to avoid the little room collapsing in on her.

The movement doesn’t stop there, however, and before their eyes, an entire section of the rotunda begins to cave in on itself. The scaffolding they stand on churns and twists, and they are forced to make a run for it, jumping from stairs and platforms that crumble beneath their feet.

As they reach the bottom once more, stumbling over the unmoving bodies of the curse-mark creatures, the entire scaffolding disintegrates before their eyes.

Far at the top of the dome, they watch as an eerie gold light emanating from Teisoko’s grotto, winks out.

“We stopped it!” Boruto cheers.

“You think?” Sarada asks, not entirely sure.

“Your mothers are both still here,” Mitsuki points out.

Which is true, but…

It’s too quiet up top, which could mean the cavern collapsed in on itself the minute the time pocket disappeared. And while she’s sure Papa would be able to get everyone out before they got squished…

The fact that he hasn’t yet makes her worry.

“There’s a suspicious lack of mayhem for a place where both our husbands are,” Mama says. “Hinata and I will look into it. And Konohamaru—this time I mean it. Take the kids and—”

“Sarada! Watch out!”

Aunt Hinata, whose back was turned to her, suddenly whirls around and reaches out to her, alarmed. As everyone else turns to her, a hand reaches out behind her, grasping her by the neck and dragging her backward.

She can only gape as the images of her loved ones vanish in a flash of golden light.

ナルト

Itachi Uchiha is a sociopath.

That thought is the clearest one Sakura can muster just then,

She kneels, her entire body trembling from shock and pain and confusion, and her stomach is turning in on itself, and she wants to throw up, because somewhere, an entire crow just burst out of her mouth—

Her vision blurs, reality bending around her, and she thinks she can hear his voice again, chillingly soft and measured.

….Protect Sasuke…tell him…

But she can’t quite get the words into focus.

There’s no time to dwell, anyhow. Teisoko is motionless before her, staring at the body of her lackey in disbelief, and that’s probably why she hasn’t made a countermove yet.

Assets, Sakura prompts herself, trying to shock her mind back into working. What assets do I have?

None, it seems.

Sasuke lies upon the ground, staring at her in shock, unable to pull himself to his feet, whether from lack of chakra or lack of strength. Probably both. Kakashi is still unconscious, and Orochimaru is barely out of toddlerhood, scared and huddled behind her. And Naruto is gone, too, trapped in the same time bubble as his and Sasuke’s future selves.

And Teisoko is moving again.

Free of her cables, she has very little strength beyond standing, but her Sharingan remains active.

There has to be a way to distort her gaze, to get past her.

Her body is so frail—almost that of a mobile skeleton—that someone of Sakura’s relative weakness should be able to take her in a straight-up fight, even as bruised and battered as she is now. It’s the dōjutsu that adds the danger element.

Even as she considers it, her muscles throb in protest and her vision swims with black spots.

Teisoko bears her teeth at Sakura, who averts her gaze, and then looks toward Sasuke. He flinches as her ruined mouth pulls into a perversion of a smile, and then returns her attention to Sakura.

“Give me the child,” she rasps, “and I will spare you in your last moments. You can hold your love for what remains of your existence.”

There is no doubt in her voice that the end of everything is close, and it terrifies Sakura.

This is not the usual fear that hits her during a dangerous mission, the kind that can be pushed off and talked away, with the distant hope of ‘some way we’ll pull this off!’ that always lingers at the back of her mind. Truthfully, the only time she ever feels like that is when Naruto makes one of his impassioned speeches.

She flicks her eyes to where her friend if frozen now.

“My name is Naruto Uzumaki! And my future dream…is to surpass the Hokage! And so, I’m going to get the entire village to acknowledge my existence!”

But this isn’t the Forest of Death, where Team Ten and Team Gai wait in the wings to help her until her boys wake up. She is literally facing off against death on her own, with no question that she will die.

Her inner self even wonders if it might not be better to agree to Teisoko’s terms. To go hold on to Sasuke for a few final moments. It would be fitting…

“I’m Sakura Haruno! What I like…I mean, who I like is… And my hobby is… My future dream is…”

Sasuke meets her eyes, furious and frustrated and trying to think around this latest obstacle. His face pulls into a snarl of defiance in the face of death, but as he meets Sakura’s gaze, there’s a momentary flicker.

He can tell what’s going through her mind, can see her temptation to give in. And he doesn’t even blame her for it because…he’s so tired. He doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t fighting, and right now, he’s at his limit.

My name’s…Sasuke Uchiha…I have an ambition…to restore my clan…

He is bruised and bleeding and about to die, but in this one instant, that ambition is not what comes through in his gaze. All his thoughts and attention lock on her, waiting.

Sakura’s lips part in astonishment.

This is the boy she loves.

This is the person who has had her heart by inches since she was six years old, and who will always have it. And right then, in that infinitesimal short moment, she understands without question—the same way she knew she had to save Sarada before she even knew the girl was her future child—she knows that even if Sasuke doesn’t show it or properly acknowledge it himself, she has his heart, too.

And she’s not about to betray that for momentary comfort.

Sakura struggles to her feet, half-expecting muscles and bone to snap beneath her from sheer exhaustion.

“Sakura!” Sasuke bites out, an effortful warning or plea.

It doesn’t matter.

Sasuke can still save the Uchiha, and restore them…even without her.

Right now, if the choice is between both of them dying or just her, there is no choice. Maybe there’s no guarantee that Sarada’s mother has to be her, maybe Sasuke can find a chance at happiness if she succeeds.

And I would give anything to protect your happiness, she remembers saying as she moves her body into a crouch. She draws out her last cherry blossom tag. “Because you…are the person…that is most precious…to me!”

She charges Teisoko.

The emaciated woman snarls, preparing in her own way for the attack, her Sharingan the ever-present threat.

“Sakura!”

But she is already vaulting through the air, gaze fixed just below Teisoko’s eyes, concentrating all effort and awareness on trying to sense where the next assault will come from. She dodges explosions and time portals left to right, and notes with a boost of confidence that they are coming much slower now. Fast enough to dodge with relative ease.

Teisoko is weakened too, whatever threat she still possesses, and Sakura does not intend to waste that.

As she enters into Teisoko’s immediate range, the place where the ancient Uchiha has more control, Sakura throws her last bomb directly at the woman’s face and prays that despite the fifty-fifty chance she has—

Teisoko detonates the explosive with the spin of her Mangekyo Sharingan, and Sakura laughs in triumph. Caution and self-preservation thrown to the wind, she vaults directly into the path of the explosion, bursting through the flame with her right arm raised and screaming.

“SHAN-NA-ROOOOO!”

Her fist connects with Teisoko’s sternum, and she feels it shatter beneath her knuckles, the fore of her chakra rending surrounding ribs and muscle, and in that moment—

Her eyes meet Teisoko’s scarlet gaze.

The black wheel in the iris contracts in pain and rage, and Sakura knows what’s about to happen, but there’s no course-correcting now.

Sound and heat explodes around her, followed by a searing pain, and then nothing.

Sakura’s body is thrown backward from the force, and unlike the first time, when she saved Sasuke from suffering the same fate, she doesn’t get up again.

Sasuke doesn’t realise he’s screaming until the last remnants of the explosion clears the air, leaving a heavy silence within the pocket of time. Sakura’s body twitches in pain, the only indication that she’s still alive. Her entire front is a mass of blood and bone and blackened blisters; her left eye, the one that remains unruined, stares up at him emptily.

Teisoko clutches at the wall, trying to stand while glaring down at Sakura’s body. She coughs, blood drippling down her lips, and then begins to laugh, a dry and heaving sound.

“I’m…still…standing, girl,” she hisses. “And now…no one…can stop…me!”

She turns her back on the ruined remnants of Team 7, and lurches toward Orochimaru. The tiny boy is crying and scrambling, trying to push himself further into the equipment but having nowhere to go.

“You…are mine…filth!”

She reaches out a spindly hand to pull him toward her.

A flat plane of violet chakra erupts between Orochimaru and Teisoko, throwing her back before she can touch the boy. It’s a shapeless slab in the air, resembling a large human rib.

Sasuke’s head feels like it’s on fire, like a switch has been flipped in his brain, and whatever strength remains in his body now bleeds into his eyes. They burn, and every other cell in his body burns right along with them.

Teisoko recoils. “Susanoo…no…that can’t…be…”

She turns to Sasuke, who stumbles to his feet.

With every movement, he can feel the life leaving his body. With his chakra exhausted from the curse-seal, he thinks he might just be burning through his own life force to keep that shield—the same one his older self used—between Teisoko and Orochimaru. He has no other goal now other than to continue the protection that Sakura offered before sacrificing herself.

Sasuke can see the damage to Teisoko’s body, and if he can get to her—

Blood drains down his face from both eyes, tear tracks that mirror those of the woman before him. Sensation in his extremities disappears—toes and fingers, then calves and forearms, and he pitches to his knees.

If he has to fucking crawl he’s going to do it.

The world flickers, narrowing to dim grey shades, and he’s dying, he knows it. Sakura’s dying, Kakashi might already be dead, and Naruto is frozen in time, and Sarada…

Sarada will never exist.

He’s dying, but he’ll be damned if he isn’t taking the monster in front of him out too—

The golden wall of chakra around them ripples, once—then twice in quick succession, and then the earth begins to rumble beneath them. They shouldn’t be able to feel that, trapped in the bubble of time as they are, but the more the golden chakra begins to wane, the more the world shakes.

Crevices split into the walls beyond the time pocket, and Teisoko stumbles back against the wall where she was secured. Gravity pulls Sasuke downward, and he falls weakly onto Sakura, sprawled across her.

The world edges away, and somehow his left hand falls into her right, and he thinks now there’s nothing else, now he can sleep.

But the earth is shaking too much and the time bubble is vibrating, and he thinks he sees his future self’s fingers begin to twitch—

Searing hot, golden light pulses and then explodes outward, blanketing everything. Sasuke has the impression of a rubber band suddenly contracting in on itself, before it pulls inward, jettisoning toward Teisoko.

There’s an instant where it passes over him and he is nothing.

No sight, no sound, no movement…no sensation. He ceases to exist.

Awareness returns with a roar, and he watches as the golden band wall that passed over him slams into Teisoko, flattening her against the wall, before she falls face-down on the ground.

She doesn’t move.

And Sasuke can notice all of this because suddenly he can feel again!

There’s no pain anymore, he realises as he pushes himself up, staring at his hands. They are devoid of any bruising or telltale signs of scuffle. Turning his head to the right, he gapes at Sakura, who blinks up at him in confusion from two perfectly whole seafoam eyes. Her face is restored, and her skin no longer hands in blistered shreds.

“Sasuke?” she asks, bewildered, and his chest constricts with disbelief and respite because she is not dead. “Sasuke!”

Then she is throwing herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck despite the awkward angle, and her grip his suffocating, but he doesn’t push her away. He’s too stunned at their wholeness, the fact they are both completely intact, so much so that even their clothing is mended. Somehow, Sasuke is wearing his high-collared blue shirt again, and Sakura’s tunic is its full length, and Naruto—

He whips his head around, watching as his teammate and their future selves stumble as if taking a wobbly step forward. They all seem mildly confused, except for Adult Sasuke, whose gaze is locked on something behind Sasuke. He discovers what when another body knocks into his, and looking down, the child Orochimaru has grabbed on to Sakura’s free arm, clutching at her like a lifeline.

In this bizarre place, she must, and Sasuke can’t even blame him for it because something in him thinks the exact same thing.

“What the hell just happened?!” Naruto demands, gazing around at the cavern that is no longer taken up by the thick, curved wall of chakra. “How’d I get here?”

“You entered the time field just as we did,” Sasuke’s future self says. “While you were in it, you were frozen, but something disrupted it and it rebounded on its creator.”

“And in the process, it appears to have returned us to the condition we were in before we encountered this paradox,” a voice adds, and they all glance over to where Kakashi is getting to his feet. There is no hint of blood in his mask, no clawing shreds across his chest from Mumyōi.

“Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto and Sakura whoop, and she lets go of Sasuke to get to her feet. Orochimaru buries his face in her hip, and despite her bemused look, she allows it.

Sasuke tamps down the inexplicable and unwanted glimmer of annoyance at that, and looks away pointedly. His gaze falls upon the still unmoving corpse of Jikken. “If time reset us all, why didn’t Jikken come back to life?”

Not that he’s complaining, but…

“He was dead,” Sasuke’s future self says simply.

“And the chakra sigil binding him to Teisoko was severed,” the future Naruto says. “That was the only thing that was keeping him reanimating. I imagine he’s been dead for a long time.”

“As for the rest of us, none of us were dead,” Future Sasuke continues. “Cells frozen in time are different from those that have expired.”

He is watching Sakura with a set to his jaw and Sasuke knows exactly what he’s feeling.

She was never dead.

He holds one hand out in front of him, calling upon his Sharingan and finding that it is no effort to do so. The strange burning sensation from earlier is gone, and he wonders for a moment if what happened to him moments earlier meant that he briefly, very briefly, possessed the same eyes as his brother.

Because of Sakura.

No, he tells himself, very firmly. It wasn’t that.

It’s not a strong denial, but it’s enough for now.

“But wait a minute,” Naruto says, frowning. “How the heck did Jikken die? One second, I was fighting him and then…bam! I’m here.”

“It was Sakura,” Future Sasuke says. “With a little help.”

She looks up in surprise. “How do you know that? You were frozen.”

“The Rinnegan allows me to see beyond time. While I was trapped, I was still aware of what was going on.” Future Sasuke scowls at them all now, before his eyes rest on Kakashi. “You were all reckless coming here. It almost killed you, and us.”

“Puh-lease, asshole,” Naruto snorts. “You’d still be a timesicle if it weren’t for us showing up.”

“Speaking of,” his future self says, “this isn’t over.”

“No, it’s not,” a cold voice interrupts, and everyone stills. The voice is new, and yet not, and when they all look over, they stare in horror at a standing Teisoko.

Only it’s not the chilling, living dead goddess they all battled until the point of death. A woman, barely out of her teens, stands before them. She looks uncomfortably like Sarada, only her eyes are slits of red anger, and her mouth is twisted into a cruel smile.

The time bubble rebounded on her as well, and instead of destroying her, it seems to have reset her to the way she once was, too.

Adult Sasuke twitches, like he’s about to move, but Teisoko’s Sharingan is back to its full power as well, and she freezes him in place once more.

“I might not be able to change time from outside my personal timeline the way I planned, but my abilities remain otherwise intact,” she sneers. “In fact, they are stronger than they ever were. All that chakra I gathered? Its in me now! And none of you will be able to stop me from going back and ending this hell of a world before it begins.”

“That’s what you think,” Adult Naruto says, and his fiery chakra flames to life.

“Oh, I do not think. I know. Because the larger paradox is retracting, too. As it builds speed, it will erase everything out of its proper temporal location,” she drawls. Her Sharingan flicks to one side, and a portal opens. She reaches into it, and then yanks her arm back, dragging a stunned Sarada back to her by the throat. “And you will all be far too busy looking for this one to escape it!”

And with a final sneer, she opens a second portal and charges toward it, yanking Sarada along with her.

つづく

Soooo. Better or worse than the Itachi-related cliffhangers?

Everyone’s been dying for mini-Sakura being badass and having mini-Sasuke actually see it, so here you go! And yes, Sasuke briefly awakened his Mangekyo Sharingan for Sakura’s sake…but since the time pocket rebounded, he was also “reset to factory settings” like everyone else. Which means his Sharingan was too :P Don’t y’all just love timey-wimey stuff?

栗

#an inch of gold #iog #kuriquinn #naruto fanfiction #time travel #time-travel #timetravel #action #adventure #drama #romance #sakura haruno #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #uzumaki naruto #bamf!sakura #uber big bad

45 notes · View notes

vanilla-blessing · 6 years

Text

Subtext is for Cowards - Revue Starlight

I watched a lot of musicals and plays as a kid. I was dragged to most of them, but I had fun usually, although in retrospect I lacked things such as the cultural context, vocabulary, and attention span needed to fully appreciate them. Revue Starlight, which is absolutely my favorite anime of 2018, deliberately replicates the magic of watching a live performance, with blinding spotlights in dark rooms, stylish battles inspired by stage mechanisms, and loud musical segments called revues. However, there's one major difference I personally noticed between watching Revue Starlight and how I remembered plays and musicals from my childhood; my time during Mamma Mia! or King Lear was mostly spent struggling to follow the plot, then bothering my parents to explain it at intermission, while Revue Starlight's central thread is crystal clear to audiences of all ages.

Revue Starlight is mysterious from the outset, as normal drama student Karen suddenly falls into an impossibly large underground fighting ring refereed by a talking giraffe, with little plot to hang on to. However, as the show reveals more, in becomes clear that every aspect from the opening lines of each episode, to the setup of every shot, to the tiny pink dot that's omnipresent in every frame of the anime, is hyper-focused on Starlight, the fictional play that serves as the centerpiece of the series, and by extension theater itself. Starlight is the shared obsession of all the named characters, and elements from it are repeated obsessively by the creators in all aspects of the show. Throughout the series, there is an absurd amount of repetition of lines (Pluck a small star, obtain a small happiness), significant names (Hikari meaning light), and grand visuals (Tokyo Tower, famous for lighting up at night), but everything can be tied back to the base ingredients of Starlight. Stars, towers, lights, and girls with tragic fates invade every aspect of the anime's production, mirroring the in-universe plot of the book and the play. It's a bombardment of symbolism and metaphor straightforwardly reinforcing the same elements, even before getting into the lyrics for the revues themselves, which serve to beat you over the head even further. To some people, this lack of hidden complexity is what prevents Revue Starlight from being a stronger narrative. However, I personally love that it wears its heart on its sleeve, and presents its meaning so obviously that even immature audiences would easily be able to understand.

In a way, Revue Starlight's constant emphasis on repeating and refining its themes resembles a season of PreCure. The monster-of-the-week formula is made fun of for an assumed lack of creativity, but PreCure's directors and producers, especially in the last few years, have utilized these weekly conflicts to emphasize repetition of themes and ideals over simply winning a fight, and eventually deliver on an emotional build-up that feels earned.

Rather than ascribing a moral as an afterthought to the cool battle, the moral itself is the conflict, unlike the trail of bodies left from Naruto's weird ninja eyeball conspiracies, or the win loss records of most martial arts sports anime. My Hero Academia, a very good x-men ripoff created by noted PreCure fan Kohei Horikoshi, is an example of a shonen that places more importance on the clashing of ideals and moral victories, instead of endless matchups of strong men due to familial revenge. Revue Starlight and PreCure both use their weekly spot to have a staged performance with a clear message, and they utilize the monster-of-the-week formula, or the audition process, to serially reinforce that core message.

Translated interview with several producers and writers on recent precure seasons: source and translation deem939 on twitter

Although I also adore nearly inscrutable metaphorical fever dreams, I find the clarity of Revue Starlight’s blatant symbolism refreshing. Too many times in a certain genre of anime, relationships are left unclear or unsaid, and arguments between friends become more inevitable than usual over the creators’ intention. Although Starlight’s plot is simplistic, it would be wrong to call it unrefined or underdeveloped. Revue Starlight replicates that magical experience of watching a play, but shoots for even more. It cloaks itself in its frankly obsessive commitment to all things theater and wears it boldly, like a badge of pride. It aims to match the idealized version of a performance, the version in your head that no recording could recreate. Although actual theater can be a little confusing for some members of the audience to follow, Revue Starlight does its best to leave no room for questions, in a way that absolutely everyone should be able to understand.

- qb queuebae on twitter friend of the magical girl senior mascot certified reporter on the field of the show

#revue starlight #hugtto precure #vanillablessing

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konohagakurekakashi · 6 years

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Writing Prompt: Kakashi's views/musings on Tsuande's early days as Hokage.

[Writing Prompt Accepted-Thoughts on a Leader]

'A leader is best when people barely know that he exists, when his work is done and his aim fulfilled, they will say- we did it ourselves.' Said datum never rang more true than for that of the Hokage, a Fire Shadow, looming over both his enemies and his subordinates as both a wise, firm regulator and a potent power of military cogency for his daimyō. It was something Kakashi understood since the simple age of four, something all Konoha shinobi and civilians understood; which is why though the position was respected, it was never coveted once you were past your ambitious Genin phase and the weight of the ninja profession finally sank deep within your very fibres and roughages.

For all intents and purposes the Professor and Minato-sensei was all that Kakashi has ever known in the form of a leader and both served as his paradigm and daily reminder that though he might be at the forefront of the mission rankings--he would never be a real leader in comparison--a fact that he was generally content with and accepted, for he was fashioned to follow orders to the letter, not give them. It was proven on his very first mission as a Jōnin and remained unremitting in his failures to break through his former Kohai’s walls, his charges’ hatred and self-misgivings or to keep his sensei’s legacy safe from the missing-nin (Akatsuki, Jiraiya-sama called them) so intent on the young Jinchūriki’s capture.

In his sorry state, head throbbing due to the effects of said former Kohai’s dōjutsu and Tsunade-sama’s earlier prodding. It was crystal clear that he lacked Sarutobi-sama’s astute way with words or the Fourth’s insight and Fūinjutsu skill. Should he have had either perhaps things would have gone differently, if only by a margin. A bitter sigh before a hand rose to rub at his pulsing lid, the action willing away the many thoughts coiling within his mind, as well as the incessant sobbing of both Gai and the nursing staff seeping across his threshold. It had been exactly four days since the Sannin made her unexpected return and pulled him from the miasma left by the Tsukuyomi. Since then the Hatake’s surroundings have been fraught with nothing but noise-The kind that Icha Icha Paradise could not drown out.

Another sigh, before Kakashi shifted within his stiff hospital sheets, lone hue flittering towards the lit hallway upon the sound of a chair leg splintering against a far-off wall. Testing the stretch and ripple of his muscles, Kakashi floundered, before bare feet slipped onto tile; his mind drifting to the induction ceremony looming just around the corner and what it could mean for Konohagakure no Satō. Kakashi has after all known the Senju for most of his existence and knew first hand that if he did not possess the qualities of his former teacher, then neither did she possess the former qualities of hers. With a torrent of apologies resounding about the hospital, Kakashi murmured a low ‘gomen’ of his own, before he stepped towards the window, his shadow spanning ahead of him as if eager to disappear into the night and away from all the ruckuss. Settling on the idiot excuse of Mnr Ūkki being cold, lonely and in dire need of a proper bedtime story; Kakashi followed after, effectively cutting his stay short and not feeling the least bit repentant for the water pitcher that was sure to expire due to his empty bed.

The next time the Hatake fixed his calculating gaze upon the form of the the Kunoichi, it was from his slumped position behind Kurenai and Asuma. It was a bright balmy day, despite the fact that the village was still in its reconstruction phase and the Sandaime has just been laid to rest. The Many shinobi gathered about him had their own gazes fixed upon the Hokage Tower as the Godaime finally lifted her hat of office. All of their hues though strained with the effects of the Chūnin Exams also ignited with a hint of optimism, of expectation and the Hatake felt his fingers twitch within his pockets and his lungs constrict--Because despite his cynical views on the shinobi system and the acidic bite of fear that that inherent optimism, that Will of Fire will one day be snuffed out; he couldn’t help being somewhat optimistic himself, even as the Kunoichi’s lip twitched and her russet stare hardened into one of determination once she pitched the Hokage Hat into the soft breeze and over the sea of her clamouring soldiers.

Maintaining that sliver of optimism was an entirely different undertaking, however.

Tsunade was not a conventional Hokage, her brash actions and talent for stepping on toes cementing the silver-haired Jōnin’s earlier assessment. Where Sandaime-sama was always cool and collected and prepared to listen to the grievances of his council and his subordinates; Tsunade in turn was quick to anger, her vast travels having done nothing in dampening her passions. Kakashi had it on good authority that the administration budget had all but doubled due to a constant lack of office furniture and accessories and he knew from being the intended target of one too many medical journals that she did not tolerate his ‘grievances’ and what he thought of as his ‘endearing’, little habits. Yet it remained a pleasant surprise when he almost walked in on one of the Godaime’s impromptu meetings with her council (more than three hours late for his own mission briefing) and found her to be unchanged in her beliefs and adamantly refusing to be swayed by the advisors' stern warnings. Though he respected them as one would respect anyone of age and skill, the Hatake could never accept the council’s rationality and the way they seemed to act on things behind the Professor’s back. He well remembered the way Danzō tried to veer him into betraying the Third and his two avid supporters were on the vanguard of those vetoing against him keeping Obito’s eye after the events of Kanabi. So it was only natural that Kakashi chose the slanted nook below the Hokage’s window as his favourite reading perch from thereon after. --Birds of a feather, hmm.

It was also from that sunny perch, the tiles warm and chiselled beneath his sandals, that the Hatake came to know that even though the Medic held none of the traits he came to associate with that of a Hokage, she instead held a plethora of other peculiarities he now welcomed in that of a village leader. The Senju for one was fiercely loyal to her subordinates and their dreams, evident by her unwillingness to label his student turned avenger a missing-nin despite it being the logical course of action, electing instead to put her faith in the capabilities of the younger generation time and time again. She never begrudged her Shinobi for missions gone awry (a notion which would have been welcomed in the time of his father) and rather showed genuine relief each and every time they came back from a mission alive and in (relatively) one piece. She was more than adapt in seeing underneath the underneath and knitted their skins back together on more occasions than he cared to contemplate--but it was her uncanny ability to push her militia past their usual capabilities and into avant-garde scenarios altering dangerously from the usual pairings and team formations, to obtain the best of outcomes for that of her village. She did not care and at the same time cared too much. Her near abysmal buckets of empathy rivalling even that of Naruto and reaching far past the borders of the Fire Nation to that of smaller settlements and the rival nations alike.

Yes the Godaime had her fair share of unhealthy customs, but as Kakashi made his way through the deserted twists and turns of the village, calloused fingers wound tightly about the ankles of one of Tsunade’s many debt collectors who managed to sneak into the village as a tatami merchant, Kakashi was hit with the sudden, jarring realization that the Kunoichi was more his leader and Hokage than that of Minato-sensei with his impossibly short tenure, or that of the infamous Professor combined. Taking a moment to tilt his head back and peer up at the hoary glow of the moon, the Hatake affirmed with a low grunt in his throat that he would follow any and every order from the last Senju even if it meant demeaning his skills to that of a watchdog. Not so much due to his duties as a Shinobi of Konoha (Kakashi was nothing if not a loyal, effective tool) but because he really wanted to.

Despite the lethal flick of her fingers and her persistently loud persona, Kakashi believed that she was adamant in carrying forth the First’s Will of Fire, Obito’s will- and despite her custom to lecture him on immaterial things and avoid some of her more dismal duties as a Kage, Kakashi knew that she was someone Rin looked up to and would strive to be like, had she still been alive. So it was with little effort that the Hatake heaved the groaning loan shark up and into the guard booth manned by Izumo and Kotetsu, a low chuckle barely concealed as a cough cutting through the chirp of crickets as the two Chūnin spluttered and rolled sideways to avoid the desperately flailing limbs. Trusting the two to take out what remained of the trash; Kakashi then proceeded to head back the way he came whilst thumbing at the ragged ends of the IOU rumpled within his holster. The past was in the past. Comparing the living to the deceased would bring him nothing, least of all answers. The best that he could do was to pull his weight and hope that everything else would fall into place. If it meant changing his Paradigm to that of the Godaime—well, he could live with that.

#Senjutsunade; KonohagakureKakashi; Hatake Kakashi; Senju Tsunade; Godaime; Part I Timeline; Writing Prompt; Naruto; In which Kakashi is a me

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bopeepwritingsheep · 6 years

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Lone Wolf - Moriko 1

There was something intrinsically terrifying in realizing just where one had been reborn into the world. Shimura Moriko struggled enough with the Shimura bit of her last name, and the Grandfather she never asked for. Slowly realizing she hadn’t even been born into canon Naruto was...disheartening.

Things had been stressful.

Nothing odd at first, besides the fact that Grandfather was her grandfather. Babies were expected to cry, were supposed to cry and if Moriko cried more often than a normal infant it was blamed on the fact that her mother had passed. That somehow even as an infant Moriko could sense the overall gloom that permeated through the Shimura clan at the loss of its prodigal daughter. It wasn’t an incorrect guess, objectively speaking.

When she met Konohamaru she latched onto the boy, something familiar and someone who didn’t make her mind scream ‘DANGER!’ Her unusual responsiveness had more playdates arranged; he was her outlet to the outside world. The rest of the Sarutobi were a blur of adults with not enough time to spare on orphaned youngsters.

Hiruzen was kind but busy; Moriko rarely saw more than a passing glimpse of him while visiting his own home but he still left expensive toys for her in Konohamaru’s little playroom. Little dolls Konohamaru seemed disinclined to touch when he could mouth at a rubber kunai. Moriko herself did not lack for toys, exactly, but pretty porcelain dolls were not something she had ever been gifted. Temari balls and kendama to help improve her dexterity and reflexes, children’s guides to katas with colorful illustrations of every step, and daruma otoshi to help instill a sense of control in her movements. All practical toys, things with definitive uses and benefits towards her future, not useless like beautifully painted and terribly fragile dolls.

Every time she went home Moriko clutched them tightly to her chest even as Danzo delicately pried them from her hands. She never knew where he took them if he kept them hidden away in a sealed scroll or simply burned them away with a jutsu. She quickly learned not to cry when he took them.

It was much the same with gifts from her rare visits from her father, a sad man with scared eyes who constantly ran spindly, thinning fingers through her hair and watched with an expression like he was going to war every time he stepped into the Shimura main house to see her. Danzo always looked at him with disdainful glares that made her father’s hands tremble--Killing intent, finely focused the moment he arrived that only lessened when Moriko was in their shared presence. All of their visits were supervised. Honda Yasu had not been allowed the privilege of joining the Shimura clan, his marriage to the late Shimura Takeko only acknowledged in order to spare the Shimura heir the burden of bastardry.

It was a nerve-wracking life, Danzo’s constant overbearing presence never quite made better by gentle words and gentle hands. His attentions were near constant, her only reprieve her playdates with Konohamaru or the occasional moments when she was handed off to her older cousin Chiyome when Danzo had meetings he could not drag his little granddaughter into. By age two Moriko knew more about the inner workings of Konoha’s unseemly underbelly than most ANBU all from her careful perch within the sling across his chest. At age three it was where she learned of the plan for Hiruzen’s assassination when it was in its very final steps. She struggled her feeble little arms with a mournful wail as Grandfather--Danzo--Murderer tutted at her tears and rocked her till exhaustion overtook her young body.

When she next awoke, she sat securely in Grandfather’s lap, could hear the man’s soft wheezing mutterings as one hand carded through her hair, the other held a pen that scritched across a scroll with his usual fervor. For a moment, she almost believed Grandfather’s words to be a dream--a nightmare brought on by stress and anxiety. She was prone to them, the medics called them night terrors and said they would pass as she grew older. Moriko hoped as much, her waking world was frightening enough without her own mind tormenting her.

She was only roused from her sleepy haze when a sudden swirl of leaves heralded a tall ANBU operative. Normally such an event wouldn’t arouse a terrible amount of suspicion from the girl but the stiff posture she recognized as a telltale sign of ROOT had dread forming like a lead weight in her stomach.

“The Sandaime is dead. The council meets to choose its new Hokage.”

The sentence ricocheted in her brain because it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real, her life was the nightmare. ‘I must be in the worst timeline,’ She thought rather dazedly as she was lifted up, tucked carefully into her sling. Where before she had cried at the thought of kindly, doll giving old Hiruzen dying now she just felt numb.

Toddlers were expected to cry, were supposed to cry but Moriko went silent after that. Moriko was too terrified.

#lone wolf verse #SiL fic #thanks frolic for letting me play in your garden #gonna roll these out all queued and whatnot #shimura moriko.

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bouncyirwin · 6 years

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The One Constant || KakaSaku (Time Travel)

Inspiration knocked the door and said I need same-age, time-travel KS AU with lots of smut. Warning: there’s smut at the end of this piece. Also, it’s very incomplete. Word Count: 3,282 words. XxXxXxXx Kakashi often worried about the next big bad thing that was bound to happen. After all, his life was a series of endless train wrecks. It started when he was at the tender age of three with his mother's death, followed by his father's suicide, followed by being shunned for his dad's mistakes. And as if the loss of his family wasn't enough, his team, every single one of them, followed soon after; one after the other until he was the only one left standing on the battle field that was the Third Shinobi War. It had been gruesome, bloody, the stuff of nightmares. Bodies lay everywhere in various states of death; friends looked for each other, buried each other, sobbed together. And yet, that scene that had once been very vividly embedded in his brain to haunt him and steal away his sleep, couldn't hope to compare to the one in front of him now.

His home was in ruins, his friends hurt, his team yet again dead. And it wasn't even over yet. The only difference, Kakashi supposed as he gazed down at the white knuckled grip on his hand, was that this time around he had a cause to fight. Someone he cared about more than his life and the whole world combined. His once pink-haired student let out a shaky breath, and her grip loosened around his hand. Her eyes, filled with a strange fire of determination, a bright burning emerald he was more than happy to get lost in, locked with his charcoal ones and she smiled faintly, her hands bracketing his cheeks. "Kakashi," she murmured, thumbs stroking the covered skin there softly. Her forehead pressed against his and she let out a soft exhale as she pressed a gentle kiss to his masked lips, "I'm going to do something crazy." He gave her a questioning look, his heart sinking a little at her words. Crazy never led anywhere good. Sakura didn't answer him but instead her byakugou unleashed and strangely, wrapped around him too, filling him with a surge of power that was almost addicting to His battered body. Multiple characters began to shine on her skin, glowing a vivid green, much like her medical chakra. "I'm going to get us out of here, baby." She whispered, voice strangely hoarse. "You just hold on tight." Before Kakashi could ask her what she meant, light seemed to explode from inside his retinas and the world disappeared in a whirl of Sakura petals. // When Kakashi woke up again, he was on a soft mattress with the bland smell of hospital deep in his nose. A migraine pulsed readily in the back of his head, throbbing away like there was no tomorrow and an annoying sting pricked at his elbow every time he shifted. Kakashi opened his eyes reluctantly, wondering if he had been captured by an enemy and is now some sort of experiment. What he found instead was the familiar interior of Konoha's grand hospital— which should be impossible considering it was the first place to go down, their enemy aiming to cut off their medical support. "Kakashi," murmured a quiet voice from beside him, forcefully pulling his attention to the other occupant of the room he hadn't previously noticed. She had strands of bubblegum pink hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, wide, brilliant emerald eyes— sparkling as if they were jewels from another world, a small graceful nose and delicate, plumped lips. She also didn't look a day over fifteen. "S-sakura?" He croaked in a broken whisper, his windpipes not entirely functional. Speaking made his throat burn, and he had to resist the urge to cough in fear the pain would be unbearable. The rosette hushed him, tender fingers matting away damp silver strands off his glistening forehead, "We made it." At his questioning look, she elaborated, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a small smile. "We're... back in time... but in a different reality I suppose, seeing you're the same age as me."

Kakashi's eyes widened in alarm at her words and his first reaction was to raise his non-injured hand to look at. It was shorter, palms not as calloused, very pale and not filled with as many scars as he remembered. Sakura gently grabbed hold of his wrist and lowered it back onto the mattress. "I know it's crazy. And I'll tell you more about it later... but there's something else you need to know..." Kakashi held his breath at her tone and hoped for the best. "Your father is alive." // It was an otherworldly experience when he walked the streets of Konoha again. He had escaped the hospital even when he knew it'd get him in trouble with Sakura. But he needed some more time. A lot of the people that were dead— that had been dead for a long time— were alive in this world. Minato-sensei, his teammates, his father. A part of him wanted to tear down the village searching for them but the other part was absolutely terrified. When Sakura found him in the Yondaime's ear, she didn't try to kill him, which was surprising. Instead, she settled in the space next to him, her head pressing comfortably against his shoulder. His arm moved of its own accord, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer into his chest. She smelled wonderfully of water, spring and sunshine; a familiar comforting scent that made the tension leave his shoulders instantly. "How?" He finally asked. "Forbidden scroll. Serum." She responded. "Something only medics of my caliber can hope to concoct... I wasn't counting on it though until Naruto..." She seemed unable of finishing that sentence. His hold on her tightened. "Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I'm... on a team. With the Naruto and Sasuke of this world and... Hatake-sensei." Kakashi startled so profoundly, his knee jerked up and Sakura's warm palm dropped on it and gently pressed it down, "it seems in whichever world I am, I'm meant to have a Hatake teach me." "...Have you met him?" He rasped, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes." Sakura replied and he felt the ghost of her smile against his chest. "He looks so much like you it's kinda scary. But he's... more laid back. Slightly less strict. Has a better fashion sense too." The last one held a teasing tone and Kakashi's throat constricted. He buried his face in her hair and took another trembling inhale. "Thank you." He murmured with thick emotion, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his other arm around her in a tight embrace. She shushed him again, fingers clenching in his shirt. "I love you." Sakura said softly, pressing a small kiss above his pectoral, "There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for you, Kakashi." // It wasn't easy. In fact, it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do; pretending that his previously dead loved ones presence wasn't almost driving him off the wall. They didn't find his prolonged silenced strange, or his fast and sharp reflexes out of place. It seemed being an excellent however antisocial ninja wasn't out of character for this Kakashi either. He saw a lot of his old students, what with his father being their sensei and his sensei being Naruto's father. But he saw less of Sakura than he was comfortable with. Living under the same roof as his dad made it difficult to have her come over. In another life, she spent every night pressed to his side, naked curves moulding against his every edge, soft breath fanning his neck. In another life, he would hold her close every time the nightmares got the best of him, would lose himself in the sensation of her body against his every chance he could afford. It was a very strange experience that despite getting back everything he lost, everything he ever dreamed of, it was her that filled his thoughts and it was her that every inch of him ached for. Today, they were training together; Team Minato and Team Sakumo for Minato-sensei was busy with some Hokage business and couldn't be available. From the few past similar occurrences that happened since Kakashi arrived in the past, he gathered that Obito and Naruto were best friends / eternal rivals for the title Hokage. It kind of reminded him of his friendship with Gai except theirs involved much less spandex and a lot more fist fights. They were just as obnoxious as he remembered them and it made his heart ache with a strange mixture of longing and happiness. And it seemed that Sasuke, while still an antisocial bastard, wasn't that much of an asshole in this world and he and Naruto were practically attached at the hip. Despite that, Kakashi didn't like the way he looked at Sakura sometimes, at all. He didn't know if it was the 'overprotective boyfriend' in him, as Sakura dubbed it, that was speaking or if it was simply the gut sense that never failed him, but he didn't like it either way.

Kakashi washed his face and got dressed in his standard shinobi pants, form fitting under shirt with the mask attached and his chest and arm guards. His forehead protector sat familiarly on his head, not slanted to hide an eye that was never lost. Strangely, he did have a scar there anyway. Obito said something about a fight with an Iwa-nin that he never got around to gathering the details of. Kakashi strapped his swords on and took a look in the mirror... he looked ready for a very serious A-rank mission. Sakumo snorted from the doorway to his room, and Kakashi whirled to face him, heart lurching go lodge in his throat. He was still getting used to Sakumo's presence and couldn't stop himself from startling every time he appeared in the same general area, like Sakumo belonged there. Which, Kakashi supposed, now he does. "Trying to impress someone?" His dad teased, familiar smile revealing sharp canines. Kakashi swallowed with some difficulty and looked away. "They're more comfortable." "I know." His dad agreed with a nod, shaggy white hair falling into his eyes in an even more familiar gesture. Kakashi really didn't want to go around wearing a jounin vest everywhere he went because that would surely be out of character for this Kakashi, who was just a sixteen year old boy. The next best thing was the silver chest protector similar to the ones he used to wear in ANBU... which apparently, he did join at some point and just quit very recently. "Let's go." He finally said, before he could ponder the decisions this Kakashi made. // Kakashi wasn't entirely sure if his dad pairing him with Sakura was purposeful or if it was a random matching. A part of him said the former was the reason, other wise he had a feeling he would be paired with Sasuke... who was sulking that he was paired with Rin— a girl. Well, Kakashi certainly enjoyed watching his teammate get so offended she managed to land a solid hit on Sasuke's face and send him crashing into the ground like a rag-doll. Both he and Sakura had trouble containing their snorts of amusement. "Alright," the rosette said with a faint smile as they both turned to face each other and took a fighting stance. "Rules?" "Just taijutsu?" He suggested, cracking his stiff neck. Sakura cracked her knuckles in reply, grin lighting up her face. "Fine, bring it on." She came at him with a speed that almost matched his famed one, but not quite. No one ever beat Kakashi when it came to speed. The silver-haired ninja nimbly side-stepped the attack, knocked her elbow aside, veering her off track, his hand already coming down to hit the back of her neck in a blow that would end the match. The hit never connected, of course. Sakura ducked and rolled onto the ground, out of his reach, quickly changing directions and knocking his feet from beneath him. Instead of crashing into the ground, Kakashi back-flipped and landed neatly on his feet again. They traded blows, lethal in their accuracy but toned down in strength to avoid fatal injuries. They danced and twirled around each other in a flurry of kicks and ridiculous acrobatic moves that had the both of them snorting in amusement. What ended the match was when Kakashi caught Sakura's ankle in his palm (which sent a spike of pain up his arm) and flipped her over, pinning her to the ground. They proceeded then to flip each other over and over again, kicking at ribs and one time, his groin, which made him mock glare at her and Sakura to smirk evilly. Until finally, they both had each other in a choke hold, Sakura beneath him, pinned to the ground by his body, her every curve pressed deliciously against his and he was panting.

"Do you concede?" They breathed at the same time, which caused the both of them to smile. "Tie?" Sakura tried. "Tie." Kakashi agreed and they released their hold on each other and Kakashi helped her back onto her feet. He winced as another spike of pain raced up his arm and Sakura grinned, her palm already glowing green as she pressed it to his arm. The relief was immediate. "So... have you grown rusty or have I grown stronger?" She hummed, working methodically on his injury. Kakashi chuckled, "No, I've just grown younger." Sakura huffed out a laugh. "Evidently." "Bad look?" He bit the corner of his lip, trying to resist the hidden smile that wanted to bloom on his face. "Nope." Sakura immediately disagreed. "Equally charming." To which Kakashi grinned. "Makes me wonder," Sakura hummed as the green glow of her hands faded and she rose on her tip toes to whisper in his ear, "if what's under your clothes changed too." A spike of want rippled through him as she backed away and they locked eyes again. Hers mischievous, his dark. Kakashi couldn't resist leanimh in to breath in her ear in a heated whisper, "Why don't you find out?" "Sakumo-sensei, Kakashi and Sakura-chan are being gross!" Obito's voice boomed out of nowhere and the couple were forcefully reminded that they weren't alone. They quickly parted, putting some distance between them and turned to face a smug looking Obito who was covered in mud from head to toe. Next to him, Naruto was in similar condition. They both were staring at him and Sakura and Kakashi felt his face heat up and was thankful for his ever present mask. "Says the guy covered in mud." Sakura sneered without any real heat. Obito's smile turned sheepish and he scratched at the back of his head as awkward chuckles tumbled from his mouth. Sakumo dropped from a nearby tree, eyes holding a hint of curiosity, "Tie?" Sakura shrugged, "Seems like it." Kakashi's dad looked even more intrigued. "Well, match is over, you are free to do as you please." Sakura turned to look at Kakashi, "Yakiniku?" "Lead the way." He responded and Obito's jaw dropped open. // "Ooh, ahh!" The rosette in his arms squirmed wildly as his digits pumped steadily into her molten heat, curling and uncurling inside her. Hot water rained steadily on their heads, fogging the bathroom and glistening down her skin. She looked so deliciously beautiful, hair sticking to her flushed skin, pinked lips parted invitingly, modest breasts rising and falling with every ragged breath. Kakashi leaned down and covered her parted lips with his, tongue slipped into her mouth. The rosette in his arms moaned again, her tongue tangling with his, walls tightening around his fingers. "Cl-lose," she mewled, grinding against his fingers, "so close— oh— oh gods— Kakashi!— fuck— mhmmm." Her head fell back and her body shuddered, her walls squeezing him rhythmically and her fingers digging in his shoulders.

She panted, eyes shutting as her forehead fell against his. "So good," she hummed, body still slightly quivering and she raised her head, lips findings his and kissing him thoroughly. His fingers pulled out of her dripping heat and he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean as she turned the water off. He hitched her thigh up his hip and held her more securely against him as he exited her bathroom, arm wrapped tightly around her lower back and the other grasping her thigh in a firm hold. He dropped her on the bed, crawling above her, his hair dripping over her collarbones, the water droplets sliding slowly down her flushed chest. Sakura's fingers came up to tangle in his damp strands and pulled him closer, her lips meeting his in a heated match, legs sliding sensually up his sides. Her teeth closed gently over his lower lip and tugged at the soft flesh, earning a grunt of approval. Kakashi couldn't wait any longer. He parted her thighs widely and sank into her. Sakura's breath hitched and her back arched off the mattress at the abrupt invasion— his curled as all air left his lungs at the feeling of her incredible tightness squeezing him firmly. "You're so tight, baby." He panted, pulsing inside her as periodic waves of heat travelled down his spine. He pressed his lips to the delicate skin of her neck and started to leave a trail of hot kisses along it, his thumb finding the pearl between her thighs and caressing it gently with the tip of his finger. She tightened even more around him, knees trembling and a heated moan escaped her lips as her arms circled his lean body and grasped at his ass, pushing him closer to her. Kakashi felt himself sink another inch deeper inside her and he growled heatedly into her neck and began pounding into her, the wet sounds of his cock sinking into her molten insides echoing loudly in the room. Sakura cried out, her head falling back as concentrated waves of pleasure rippled trough her and her eyes squeezed shut. Her hips moved against his, bouncing off the mattress with every thrust and he pushed her thighs farther up, exposing more of her to him, sinking deeper into her at an angle that left her screaming and begging for more. "Oh gods, oh god— oh fuck—! Kakashi, I-I'm—!" Her nails dug into his biceps as her back arched and she came around him once more, her walls squeezing him again and again as she milked his orgasm out of him.

Kakashi swore and came in a series of long spurts, muscles jumping and stuttering, hips grinding against hers to ride out their highs until both of them were spent and she was twitching at every small touch. He collapsed on top of her, panting harshly in her ear, body squishing hers to the damp mattress. A long moment of silence followed before she let out a soft chuckle, her arms wrapping around him and her lips pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I think we need to work on your stamina." "Shut up," he grumbled into her skin but the small upward twitch of his lips betrayed him. Sakura giggled tugging him to her lips for a much needed kiss. "I love you," she murmured, tongue tracing his lower lip before sucking it between hers. His breathed reply got lost in her mouth as Kakashi's lips parted to allow her tongue to explore his and his hands moved to cup her face, getting so consumed in the feeling of her mouth and body that he lost sense of where she began and he ended. // XxXxXxXxX Good news: I have a week off. Which means I'm taking prompts again for a bit. I could use the inspiration. And the distraction. Send me any pair (as long as it's not ss) via ask, and whatever scenario you want. Be as creative as you want!

#naruto #Kakashi hatake #Sakura haruno #kakasaku #time travel #one shot #same age au #au #bouncyirwin writes #taking prompts

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artlessictoan · 6 years

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Day 5 - Family

you’d think that just rehashing the exact same format that I used for the family theme of temari week last year would’ve meant I got this out on time, but no. well… at least it’s p long?

I guess this is just a thing now.. if kank week rolls around and ‘family’ isn’t a theme I’m kinda screwed

hope you enjoy!

AO3 version

---

Age three and he first knows that he is different, though he’s not sure how.

Adults talk above him, quiet and distant and utterly incomprehensible, but their stares weigh heavy on him, pulled down by the indistinct whispers that always lingered just behind him, no matter how far he turned. He tugs on his keeper’s apron, holds himself up against stiff legs, but will not lift his head to look at him, nor will the man look down.

Family is just a word; he’s told it’s what Yashamaru and father are, though he doesn’t understand why other adults are not, or why it’s so important he remember it.

---

Age five and the feeling is growing worse every day.

He knows why everyone stares, knows why they whisper behind cupped hands, knows why they run. Father tells him that it is because he is valuable, he will become the salvation of the village, he does not need to interact with anyone but him and his uncle, stop causing trouble, just stay inside and behave. Yashamaru tries to hide himself from the truth, ignores him when he insists that Shukaku is being mean to him again, just pats the air just above his head – always the air, never his thick and unruly locks – and asks if he wouldn’t rather play with his toys.

Family is expectation and purpose, it is the long lectures on the state of the world and what he will do to change it; it is the siblings he’s heard about, but rarely sees, little more than ghosts at the edges of his mind; it is not-quite-meeting eyes and unfathomable sighs hidden beneath tight smiles.

---

Age six and blood runs thickly into his eye.

The truth has finally released him; he is not loved and he never had been, nothing will change it… but he no longer wants to.

Family is hate and fear and pain, it is the assassin in the night and the rage of a mother carrying out her final, terrible vengeance.

If no one else would love him, then he will just do it himself.

---

Age eight and he hardly notices anything anymore.

A knife cuts the air with barely a hiss, but the woman’s scream sings in the night. Sand crawls across his spoon before it can even reach his mouth, the way the poison splits the skin of its practitioner fascinates him for hours. Through his shield, he can feel the heat of the fire jutsu, it isn’t hot enough. Shadows move too quickly in the periphery of his vision, he drags the assailant out of them and watches the light die in his eyes. The girl had no weapon on her corpse, nor poison or scrolls, the blood spattered on his face dries quickly in the blazing sun.

Family is the rush of his heart as another body falls around him, it is the warmth and love that flows through him like blood flows from a split stomach, it is sand that wraps just slightly too-tight tendrils around his ankles when his demon needs to remind him what it wants.

---

Age twelve and his siblings immediately tense when he enters the room.

Baki’s explanation doesn’t interest him, nor does the prospect of doing anything that would benefit the village whose existence he only tolerates because its fear is on occasion mildly amusing. But the opportunity to leave this dead and empty place, go further into the world than he ever had before and tear away its foundations, announce his existence to it before the whole thing crumbled at his feet… that prospect is all-too enticing, even after father drags him aside one night and tells him that this mission will decide his fate, that if he doesn’t play along like a good child, then he will not be returning.

Family is more trouble than it’s worth. He agrees to the terms, not because of the threat – father doesn’t have the guts, doesn’t have the strength; why else would he leave the insulting attempts on his life to others? – but because of Mother’s whispers of all the games they could play in Konoha, he’d take her there wouldn’t he? Such a good boy.

---

Age thirteen and he is trying so very hard to be human.

His words and actions are clumsy, mimicking what he sees in others, without understanding any of it. Kankuro can’t relax near him, Temari’s words are carefully considered and placed, he watches them through his third eye one night, nursing warm drinks as they speak of a book Temari is reading, of Kankuro’s latest project, pushing and shoving and falling to the floor in breathless laughter and he wonders; is that what it means to a sibling? To be human?

Family is spying and learning and feeling a tight, burning sensation in his dry eyes as Kankuro’s hand brushes his shoulder, even as he brushes it away before the gentle touch can break him. It is the confusion when Temari offers him a novel, her tight-lipped smile as she says she thinks that he would enjoy it.

---

Age fifteen and the stiffness still lingers in his fingers and toes.

He has not been left alone for over a month now – not truly alone, even if they keep their presences hidden, he is aware of the eyes always nearby – shinobi wander into his office without an appointment almost eight times a day, Baki insists upon walking with him to and from council meetings and Matsuri has taken to leaving snacks and fresh cups of tea in his most-frequented rooms, with short notes written in bright ink reminding him of the medics’ advice to stay nourished, He doesn’t want to resent the attention, he’d spent half his life begging to experience it, but the acts fuel his old, comfortable paranoias and the effort to restrain his worst impulses at every friendly greeting exhausts him more than even death had.

Family is the respect and devotion of a community and realising that protection goes both ways. He still asks his siblings to help stem the tide; they agree, but with every delicate chiding by his sister, every sincere inquiry into his health by his brother, the guilt remains.

---

Age twenty and he finally has time to stop and think.

The war had long been over and peace returned, there is still much work to be done, many bridges to be built, many agreements to be made. Even so, he also finds himself for the first time with friendships both intense and casual, and he actually has the free time to pursue them, he talks with Naruto every chance they get, Sakura sends him letters updating him on Konoha’s progress, Shikamaru regularly challenges him to games of shogi, Matsuri gushes to him about her new girlfriend, old lady Ohno makes him promise to keep her funeral small and humble, Baki cries whenever he reaches a new milestone in his career.

Family is learning that grand displays and solemn promises aren’t all that’s needed in a strong relationship, it’s also small gestures and simple understanding.

---

Age twenty-six and, for the first time since his turn, impulse takes him.

The three children look around his home with suspicious eyes, they move with the same care and uncertainty that he once had, as though terrified that a single step out of place will have them thrown back onto the streets. He doesn’t know how to reassure them, but he remembers what his siblings did for him when they first started living together – a pantry always stocked with favoured meals, a space entirely yours to retreat to when the paranoia proved too much, unspoken invitations to join in family activities only when ready – he’s not sure that he is doing it right, but when Araya first calls him ‘dad’ he smiles for what feels like hours.

Family is terror and panic and constant uncertainty, but it is also pride and caring and joy and an indescribable love filling the soul until it was lighter than air.

---

Age fifty-two and Baki’s death destabilises him more than he could have ever imagined.

He and his siblings trudge through the funeral preparations on memory alone, none of them quite present in the room, even as they perform the expected motions and speak of all that their sensei had done for them. Once his children retreat to their old bedroom – still with red eyes for the man they’d called ‘grandpa’ even now that they were all adults, already off starting families of their own – he, Kankuro and Temari huddle together under a blanket, under the stars. They talk of memories, of fathers, both unofficial and blood, of mothers and uncles and the pain of losing each and every one.

Family is looking back and looking forwards at the same time, sharing the loss of loved ones to make the pain just a little more bearable and hoping that when you go, those who live on won’t ever feel such grief for one so undeserving.

---

Age Seventy-nine and there is still so much left to learn.

Life continues, the world running around him, even after he has decided that he no longer has a place in driving it.

Family is something he’s sought his entire life, knowingly or not, but he’s sure he’s found it now; in the friendship of those who found a way to believe in a boy’s humanity when he himself could not, in the respect of a community that had willingly taken him into its arms, despite every hurt he’d brought it, in the smiles and adoration of three children he’d saved from mistakes of the past, in the sensei who had filled a void he’d not even known was there, in the siblings who had pulled him into a bond stronger than any force of nature, in the faint memories of sandy hair and the bitter taste of iron, in the embrace of sand that had never once left him, not even in his darkest moments.

Despite everything, it was more than worth it.

---

#ictoan writes #gaarabday #gaara #temari #kankuro #sand siblings #naruto #also mentions of several other characters #sorry it's late but hopefully it's worth it!#oh uh..#violence tw #i mean it's baby gaara so of course but just in case

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natsubeatsrock · 6 years

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My Incredibly Unpopular Thoughts on: Nalu II

Consider this post an OVA. After three years of infrequent posts in this series, I’ve made 13 editions of the series, which, incidentally equates to the number of episodes in a seasonal anime. (And yes, that means the Naruto post all count as one post to me.) So, now that the series is over and I at least hope that someone is interested in seeing more actual analysis against Nalu from me, I’ve decided to bring back this for one more go around.

Keep in mind that the point of this series is that I have a really big post devoted to my thoughts on a subject that I’ll refer to so I never have to talk about it again. A lot of this has and involves analysis but, as the name should imply, it’s clearly and obviously biased. For the most part, I explain my biases but I don’t make it a habit to apologize for having them. If you’re unconvinced, there are plenty of people more popular than me for disagreeing with me.

This should go without saying but read “My Incredibly Unpopular Thoughts on: Nalu” before reading this if you haven’t already. I don’t think this post leans as heavily as many of my other series-type posts do. However, I think it’s important to have a basic idea of my thoughts on Nalu and its fandom before going into this post. Not to mention, it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written for this blog, so...

You know, I'm not even sure if I wanted to do this. If you can't tell, I've been pretty chill about Nalu and very transparent about why. I feel as though I shouldn't have to make too many more posts about Nalu considering I don't see it as canon. I've been wanting to retire this series with the previous edition focusing on my favorite character for more than a year. And to be blunt, I wouldn't make this if it were just me talking about how canon Nalu isn't.

However, I've seen a few things that, even though I've addressed them in posts since the end, have pushed me close to the edge. The thing that really set me off has been a realization I, and other Fairy Tail analysts, have come in rewriting the series I already said in an earlier post. And trust me, I’ll get to that soon enough. (read: it’s close to the last thing I talk about)

But let's start with an easy one; I don't care about Twitter sketches. I don't mean that in the sense that I don't find enjoyment from seeing pictures Mashima puts on Twitter. Many are really good and one of the main reasons I got a Twitter was to see his tweets. I've reblogged tons of them, both original sketches and recolored versions and his original Stone Age comic is one of my favorite things he's done for the series.

I mean that in two other ways.

One: The sketches mean nothing to me in regards to if the ship makes sense or is canon.

The fact that Mashima draws Natsu and Lucy in XYZ situation means nothing about them actually being in XYZ situation in the actual series. After all, the series is over and the sketches have little if any bearing on the series. Your ship isn't canon because Mashima drew them for fun.

And I know someone is going to respond with something like, “You wouldn't feel that way if Mashima drew one of your ships.” You know, despite the fact that I said literally nothing about the Pocky Day sketches which involves Graylu.

So, I'll use an example of one of my low-key ships: Natsu and Mirajane. Earlier, Mashima did a drawing of Mirajane and Natsu building a snowman together. And this past Valentine’s Day, he drew Mirajane giving a gift with Natsu giving one for White Day. You know what that means about their romantic prospect to me? Nothing! As cool as it is that he did it, the Natsu x Mirajane ship is still as out there as it would have been otherwise. I ship Natsu with Lisanna over her sister for a reason.

Two: I don't care about the sketches enough to bring this kind of thing up every single time Mashima draws Natsu and Lucy in the same picture.

Everytime Mashima draws them together, someone comes into my inbox and tells me how stupid the Nalu fandom is for thinking that whatever wacky situation Mashima puts them in. Look, I've been in this fandom for long enough to know how this works: Mashima does literally anything Nalu related and it's praised as proof of Nalu as canon. This was always the case with even stupid developments in chapters. Now that those are gone, I'm not shocked the fandom moved to the only thing Mashima puts out for the series.

These exact same things are my thoughts on the Nalu/Gruvia kids from the NYCC trip. There are three quick differences I wanted to add.

I get that Mashima didn't draw other ship kids but that's only because he wasn't asked to.

The kids where a was waste of an opportunity to ask Mashima a question about the series, as thegreatrhapsode has proven with his list of 100 alternate questions.

(I also came up with another 80 or so on some papers I can’t seem to find, though many of mine are more about Mashima and his works than about Fairy Tail.)

As a fun warm-up for rewriting the series, I’ve been working on a scenario for them to exist and meet which will come out eventually. And, as I reiterate multiple times in said scenario, it’s only a hypothetical.

Now, despite talking about this in at least three prior posts, I want to talk about the Nalu ending.

IT'S NOT CANON!

There is no clear and established relationship canonically proven to exist between Natsu Dragneel and Lucy Heartfilia. I can't believe that this is an issue for so many people. There was no confession. There was no kiss. Honestly, I don't even think Lucy thanking Natsu is or even should be considered romantic.

One of the annoying schools of thought surrounding this ending is that Natsu and Lucy are canon, but aren't in an explicitly romantic relationship. That they clearly love each other, but they wouldn't kiss or stuff because that would be out of character. I've even seen people say Natsu chickened out of a confession.

I'm sorry? Are we talking about the same Natsu? I don’t mean that in the sense that there aren’t times where aspects of characters aren’t up for debate. I mean that in the sense of “What convinced you that this was the right context for such a line of questioning?”

I don't think it's impossible for characters to be fearless and headstrong in some situations but timid and scared in another similar situation. I'm one of those people when it comes to performance versus public speaking. But Natsu hasn't been shown to be this kind of person when it comes to romance. Frankly speaking, romance isn't really an explored aspect of Natsu’s character. There are jokes about him and Lucy being a couple and Lisanna jokingly proposing to him, but that's not really grounds to believe he would be shy to confess to her. In a special edition magazine, it was even revealed that Natsu isn't even really interested in romance.

And then there's the other question from Comic-Con: Who do you think Natsu would end up with?

Again, this was a waste of a question. I know that sounds harsh and it’s a question that many people in the fandom may genuinely want to know. But was there literally anything more important that we could have gotten asked? Between two people, there’s a list of near 200 issues with Fairy Tail that were left unresolved at the end of the series. Even if it’s not about the plot hole ridden, contradictory, pseudo-success that Fairy Tail ended up becoming, you don’t want to know anything else about Hiro Mashima the person? I’ve read other works by him and I’d love to know more about Rave Master or Monster Soul or even the more recent Starbiter Satsuki.

That aside, as I said in the past, this was more conjecture than definite. This wasn’t, “Natsu will absolutely end up with Lucy later on in events after the end of the series”. If anything, this was “It’s most likely that, were the series to continue past the ending, Natsu might end up with the literal only female he could reasonably get away with forming a relationship with that isn’t Erza.” (I say even as I ship Natza. #multishipperprobz) He was later asked who Natsu would end up between Lucy and Lisanna and the answer was that it’s complicated. In other words, it’s not definitely in Lucy’s favor, as (and I only mention this because someone will inevitably bring this up if I don’t) it isn’t definitely in Lisanna’s favor.

But, let’s put all those actual facts aside for a bit and genuinely assume that the Nalu fandom is right about this. They’re not, but let’s assume they are. Mashima’s hilariously roundabout way of addressing the elephant in the room that is whether or not Natsu and Lucy are in a romantic relationship is outright confirmation that they are in fact a canon couple. I want you to consider how terrible this should actually be considered for the Nalu fandom.

Pretty much since I’ve been a fan of Fairy Tail, the expectation for Nalu was that they were definitely going to be canon in the series. There was near constant speculation of how and when this would happen. I even mentioned a few times Mashima could have made it canon if he wanted to when I broke down Nalu. The big one I remember, and one I even mentioned in that post, was when Natsu was coming back after the second time skip. This was right around when I started reading chapters of Fairy Tail weekly and actually seeing this made it seem like the fandom really cares about this ship happening.

Obviously, there was no confession at that time, obviously, that wasn’t the first time the fandom reacted in such a way and, obviously, the clamor for such a moment didn’t die down with time. There were plenty of instances where this thing would happen, pretty much up until the last chapter of Fairy Tail. Even going through old chapters of Fairy Tail, I can (only sort of) see where and when people who thought that Nalu was endgame would want a confession to be followed up.This was a big reason people were willing to put up with Fairy Tail despite knowing better. On top of all the terrible arguments used for defense of Nalu, the clear baseline assumption for a lot of it was obvious: “We [the people against Nalu] are all going to be proven wrong in the end”.

So, what does it say that the creator of the series comes out months after the last chapter and say that they end up becoming canon later on in events we don’t get to see? Shouldn’t that make the Nalu fandom seem mad? After 11 years worth of canon material, you couldn’t bother to give the fandom a proper, in-series ending?

In the last chapter, we got 5 pages devoted to Mashima’s Zervis AU, positive signs towards Elfgreen and even a shoutout to Kinabra (it’s probably not as bad as people might think), but Natsu or Lucy can’t even get a thought bubble alluding to their potential romantic feelings that “were totally obvious and you’re blind if you can’t see this”. Every other ship in the Big 4 got, at least, a step forward. Even if you want to argue that what we got from Gruvia or Jerza doesn’t matter considering the Century Quest is a serious step back, Nalu didn’t even make a step forward, to begin with. If anything, it took several steps backward.

This is an incredibly unfair comparison for multiple reasons, but let’s look at the end of Fullmetal Alchemist (or Brotherhood for you anime fans). One ship’s hilariously awkward statement near the end of the last chapter of the series before going on a long journey was definitely supposed taken to be a love confession. And, surprise surprise, it was actually taken to be a love confession in series. On the last page, there’s a picture of their family. (I don’t mention names because I’m trying to keep some mystery for those who don’t know.)

And, because I apparently need to beat this point into the ground, let's talk about Mashima’s plan for Nalu. I feel like I shouldn't have to make any more discussion about this. But I’ve seen someone who said that Mashima’s words on Nalu mean that his plan might be to make them canon later on. In a post a two months after the end of the series. So if you think I was jokingly making a stupid argument with that open letter, you're sorely mistaken.

First off, we found this out during the last arc of the series. There's no way he could have made Nalu any type of reasonable romantic development given that Natsu and Lucy weren't simultaneously conscious during the chapters the afterword in question came out. And if you want to go by what volumes were released around that time, the latest one in the main series had Natsu groping Lucy.

Again.

Keep in mind that assumes that there was enough for them to reasonably even end up in a romantic relationship with by the end of the arc anyway, which, of course, I don't think considering two months before, then I explained why Nalu was terrible in the prequel to this post. And of course, there was plenty of time for them to develop a romantic relationship in the five or six interactions they had in between then and the last chapter.

But consider that this is getting away from the main issue at hand: Mashima’s word on Nalu. He wasn't planning on writing them as a couple originally. And that isn’t just worried about how wasn’t planning on making more of the series past Phantom Lord. He said that their current relationship was somewhere between friends and lovers. That doesn't mean they'll go from friends to lovers. If anything, that means Natsu and Lucy have a relationship close to being siblings, where they care about each other a lot, but not in a romantic sense.

This is probably also a good time to beat my favorite dead horse again: “Natsu should (have) apologize(d).” Mashima is willing to admit that Natsu and Lucy have a really important relationship, to the point that his fans recognize that and want it to be romantic. Why would it make sense to cause a big break in that relationship, recognize that tension exists because of it, and do nothing about fixing it in any context? Now, consider how much of a failure this looks like when you're writing them as a close-knit relationship.

I’m sorry, how is this better than Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon or the Inuyasha ship, WatchMojo folks?

And none of this is even why I've decided to make this post. This is all just extra stuff I've had on my mind before and during the writing of other smaller posts about Nalu. Some of this even came up while I made this post. But those are all small fries compared to the thing that really tipped me off.

This past May, I started going through how I would rewrite Nalu. I figured that, since the ship wasn’t going to be canon anyway but was still popular, there had to be some way I could work them into a romantic relationship. While it was part of the reason I got into rewriting the series as a whole, I realized that I wasn’t going to get very far doing this well. Not because I didn’t like the ship in the original Fairy Tail. But because it would make no sense to put them together given their character arcs.

That’s right. Nalu works against the individual character arcs of Natsu and Lucy.

Look at it this way: if you’re going to focus on Lucy as a character, you should focus on her membership of Fairy Tail. That was her dream at the start of the series. If you're going to on Natsu as a character, you should focus on his search for Igneel. That was his dream at the start of the series.

You see the issue?

Now, this wouldn't be that big of an issue if this changed through the series to a point where they realize they want to be with each other. But in Tartaros arc, they double down on their individual goals. While Natsu’s dreams are dealt with later in that arc, the reason Lucy tracks the guilds whereabouts in the next arc is that she still wants to be with them.

I have more I want to say about how it was handled and how I'd fix it another post, but this is too important to leave for later. Not only was Nalu terribly undeveloped. Not only was it never meant to be canon. Not only is it not canon. Even if it was meant to happen, it would work against both of their supposed character motivations.

There are definitely more things I can talk about. For instance, there’s the double 180 the Nalu fandom pulled where the fandom agreed Natsu and Lucy are definitely in love and would have a kid, shifted to saying that romantic stuff like that would be OOC for them, and shifted into saying they’d have a potentially kinky physical romantic relationship within the span of a few months with no self-awareness whatsoever. But at the end of the day, what would be the point? You know, other than sharing my thoughts with the world? I mean, for all I or anyone else can say about how this ship utterly fails in multiple different aspects, people will still believe Nalu is amazing and canon. There's very little I or anyone else can actually do about it.

The Nalu master list is aesthetically nauseating, but it's more popular than the Nali one. Consider that my post about Nalu not being the original plan has only a fraction of the notes that other posts about that not being the right interpretation do. Many of the points I've torn apart regarding Natsu’s lack of apology are still being used as if they're totally fine. I’m willing to bet there are more posts about how Nalu is actually canon than there are likes/reblogs of my post about how Nalu isn’t canon. (For reference, the number is 12.)

This isn't a Nalu exclusive kind of thing considering I said similar things about Gruvia and Nali last year, but it's still annoying to see my least favorite thing in anime continue to be defended against all odds and reason. A while back, I even saw someone who made a chart about how much of Fairy Tail was pointing towards Nalu, as a teaser for a video they’re making. This series isn’t labeled “incredibly unpopular” for nothing.

I said this in an earlier post, but the anti-Nalu camp isn’t giving me much to enjoy either. I get it, I clearly still don’t like Nalu either. However, the way this fandom has been doing since the end of the series has been annoying. I get that the Nalu fandom is annoying, hypocritical and near unbelievable plenty of times. I’ve seen plenty of stupid with my own eyes and much of part 1 talks about my issues with the fandom. However, I’d love to learn more about why the actual ship fails for so many people then how so many people fail at convincing them.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that I’ll stop finding things to talk about Nalu-wise. A while back, I saw someone make a post about when Lucy could have fallen for Natsu. Next week, a list of 13 Fairy Tail chapters where I think you should have given up on Nalu happening (11 chapters which are in the main series and two special chapters) will be posted in the anti-Nalu tag in response. While some are obvious picks like 416 and 545, a few are places where Mashima could have helped Nalu’s case be more airtight but didn’t.

One of the big first steps to my rewrite of Fairy Tail is how to reconcile the aforementioned “Nalu problem” and I have a few things I have to get to before that. And with the final season of Fairy Tail coming, my own rereading of the series, and more rewriting of the series, I’ll definitely come up with more incredibly unpopular thoughts on one of the most popular things in Fairy Tail.

In Conclusion:

Nalu is trash. It’s not canon, it shouldn’t have been canon and be aware of anyone who would be willing to argue otherwise.

#fairy tail #anti nalu #anti nalu fandom #nalusgonnanalu #i'm back and i'm pissed off #at EVERYONE!#for the record #this only took two weeks to write #i spent months working on FITAGAPEOInTP #and it's about the same length #also happy holidays!#while you're here #i did see the twitter pics #and guys #come on #the series is over

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esamastation · 7 years

Text

Poetic nonsense

Shimmering

He wakes up to a glow, an overwhelming brightness coming from all around him. It permeates him in and out, coursing through him like constant blast wave and for a moment he's blinded by the strange radiance, unable see or sense or even think.

Chakra, he thinks. This is chakra.

Father, he thinks at first and then – no, father is long dead as is uncle, their Chakra has joined the world. Indra then, except even Indra never felt this oppressive – and this feeling, it's coming from everywhere, all around him, it's like he's surrounded by hundreds of people, all of them with power, all of them with chakra of their own. It's like he's surrounded by a rainbow; countless of individual presences with hues and tones, all of them effecting their individual aura of chakra, so close together that they're almost melding into each other and he can't tell them apart – except, except that is impossible.

Isn't it?

Struggling against the outpouring of power all around him, he tries to calm his mind and bring his senses into order. Calm, he thinks and breathes, quiet, he thinks and exhales. Still as a pond's surface, the raging might of a river coming to rest beneath its waves. Balance, stability, peace.

The brilliance fades into a more manageable shimmer and he can fit into his head again. And then he can see – feel the chakra signatures all around him. He's staring up at stained wooden ceiling in blank faced shock – and all around him there are people with chakra. Not just the bare handful of his clan and family. Not the mere dozens of his father's temple. Not even the near half a hundred Indra amassed.

There are hundreds of them, hundreds and hundreds if people with chakra of their own.

And then Uzumaki Naruto crash lands in his head and nothing – everything – makes sense.

Incomprehensible

Ah, he thinks as his head explodes. That makes sense.

It makes absolutely no sense.

Things fall all around him in mismatched order – he's in wrong place, in wrong time, this isn't home, this place is gone and hasn't been build yet. Konoha is a distant future thing which from one point of view has been destroyed and rebuild but doesn't even exist, but it does, it does, he grew up here – except he couldn't because, because that was future. Past. Future.

He is two people in his head – and lifetimes in between, flickering in and out. Ashura first and Naruto last, and Ashura on base and Naruto all over the top. He grew up in his father's temple – in the orphanage and then alone. He grew up in the shadow of his brother – looking up to the Hokage monument, at his father. His father was the Father of Ninshu – his father was a fantasy and he still sometimes didn't dare to believe it. He grew up disappointing but loved. He grew up hated and over came.

Naruto had done something and Ashura couldn't make sense of it at first.

They lived centuries and centuries apart – and this moment and time is wrong for both. Distant terrible future to Ashura, who can look back and see the progression of events, how badly things went, the empires built on the ashes of Ninshu. Lost past to Naruto, who looks back to it with regret and sense of lost potential, all the things he could've done, if only he'd been a little smarter about it.

Time and space, they think. Goddamn it, Indra-Sasuke.

Fluent

Naruto embodied Ninshu and never really knew it – it came naturally to him. Ashura can see it, remember it – look ahead to it? – and it's a weirdly nostalgic unease he gets from it. Naruto had never known Ninshu, didn't know a thing about it – but he followed its tenets.

Working for others, with others, against others – becoming better for it. He shares what he has without second thought – time, effort, chakra, dispensing it all out with little restraint, bettering what was around it like it was the most natural thing. Most of all, though, most of all... he spent his entire time matching his beliefs against opposing ideals; his most cherished fights are always those of words and his victories are the new, transformed ideals that came out of those verbal, mental fights. And he never even knew that it was the core of Ashura's Ninshu.

Oh, Naruto thinks, because he never realized. Of course not; Ninshu is dead. And yet of course it comes naturally to him; Naruto was Ashura.

Excavation

They get up and set aside the mental for the physical. They already know where they are – the future-past is unmistakeable for Naruto and too alien for Ashura. That ceiling, these wall and floor boards – cut with machines, Ashura wonders, with saws that work on their own, with grinders that made perfect, smooth finishes – Naruto knows them because he lived surrounded by them most of his youth.

This is his apartment, the one he lived until he left it and Konoha behind at age of thirteen. When he came back, he was housed in the temporary Shinobi housing next to the academy instead – he'd meant to rent a new place as soon as he got into swings of missions, but... things had gone to head too quickly.

Konoha, which to Ashura still seems like fantastical future, was destroyed not that much after.

But Naruto knows this place. His jumpsuit is there, thrown over the back of his kitchen chair – in his fridge, there is milk, expired. He hasn't done his laundry, unsurprising, and his scrolls and books and homework is a mess strewn about the floor.

There's a headband there, scratched metal against brand new bandana cloth. Iruka-sensei had given it to him – given his own headband to him – and Naruto had refused to give it back. In the end they had done a swap – Iruka had gotten the new headband that would've gone to Naruto, Naruto had taken his old one, only they'd changed the bandannas around. So Iruka went away with his original cloth but new metal while Naruto got a new one cloth and old metal. This way Naruto wouldn't forget, Iruka had said and ruffled his hair.

As if Naruto could ever forget.

Ashura looks in on these memories, mental and physical, curiously, poking at the headband – insignia of a village, of a clan, of a title and rank, how peculiar – and at the memories that came with it. Indra-Sasuke had one too. Naruto had put a scratch on it. Indra-Sasuke had left it behind.

Of course he did.

Dust

As they poke around the future-past of Naruto's old home, they begin to clean it up. Which one of them starts it, it's hard to tell – Neither was that cleanly in life. Ashura had always needed someone to nag at him to bother and Naruto never had that, so he'd never just bothered. But they both had grown up, grown something like responsible, and the mess of Naruto's past self is that of a child.

Things on the floor, dust in the corners – expired food items in the fridge. They neaten things up as they glance over them, making the bed where they woke up, folding the clothes on the floor, throwing the dirty ones on the hamper, before picking up the home work of school they no longer went to – school, Ashura thinks, is a wonderful idea. Naruto thinks he's nuts.

Naruto, sadly, has almost as bad a handwriting as Ashura does.

They're examining some essay Naruto had once tried to write and never finished on time, when the window is blown in.

Rain

When Indra had walked out, it had been a terrible weather. When Sasuke had done the same, it had broken out to an outpour, washing away tears neither of them shed. In every life, he always walked away. In every life, they always chased after him, to no avail.

He crashes into Naruto's apartment, covered in water and looking angry and confused and tense –it's a near miracle the window didn't break. Ashura and Naruto look down at him and Indra glares out of Sasuke's eyes, how very nostalgic.

"So," Ashura says. "That didn't go as planned."

"Idiot," Indra says. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Ashura asks. "I can't do this; I don't even know how this happened.

"You used Ninshu," Indra says. "You must've. Only Ninshu could do this."

"I think this might be on me and Sasuke," Naruto says. "It's not like you were even here before."

"Idiot," Sasuke answers. "They were always here."

Nostalgic.

Correction

They never figured out their father's Ninshu, neither of them.

Indra was supposed to, but he turned his eyes so deep inward that he couldn't see past his own eyes. Ashura on other hand only had eyes for others, and so the points of self reflection were largely lost on him. Father's Ninshu was both closer to self and farther from world than either of them could grasp. It was about the universe, and one's place in it – concept too wide and too alien for either of them. It was balance with the world.

And they were never balanced.

From his own beliefs, Indra had developed Ninjutsu. From his, Ashura had built up his Nindo. He'd been named the successor of Ninshu eventually, much to Indra's chagrin, and he'd tried to live by it – but the self reflection of Indra changed the world before Ashura's reflection of the world could take root.

Humans were, in the end, more likely to look inside than out. Ninshu died – and Ninjutsu reigned supreme. And they died before they could either understand or appreciate the effects it would have on the world.

Looking back to it now, they can't even wince. The world built upon their fight, into clans, into Senju and Uchiha, into wars, into villages, into Konoha – into now. Stones piled up on a base that has a crack running right through it can only stand sturdy on either end – and nothing truly bridged that divide, it had only grown wider as the stones had piled.

At some point, the stones had collapsed – in Hashirama's and Madara's time perhaps, or after – and covered the crack in mess of scattered brickwork. But the fault line was still there, and nothing was sturdy anymore.

On that fault line of ideals wars were waged.

Cup of Tea

Indra curses and Ashura makes tea with what little Naruto has to offer in his dingy little apartment. Naruto makes faces at Sasuke, who rubs at his eyes as if he has a headache. Understanding tastes like stale leaf, drank from chipped cups.

"So to recap," Naruto says. "Sasuke used Rinnegan to try and undo – stuff. I messed with it without meaning to with it because," he waves a hand in vague gesture of compassing everything in the world, "you know. Ninshu."

"Tch," Sasuke answers and glares at him. "I didn't mean to bring you along."

"You couldn't not," Ashura says and looks down at Naruto's right palm. The seal is gone from the skin, but the connection is there. "Father joined you two together when he passed on his power. The connection was rivalled and opposite and because of that, strong."

"Damn old man," Indra mutters, looking down at Sasuke's left palm. "Always tampering with events, even now."

"Are we where you meant to go?" Ashura asks, looking to Sasuke past Indra's glare. "One would think you would have gone earlier."

Earlier – to a time before the massacre.

Sasuke looks down and presses his lips together for a moment. "Uchiha died for a reason," he says then. "It was a stupid reason but if they hadn't, things... would've turned out worse."

"The coup they were planning would've destroyed this place, inside out," Indra agrees and looks away, at the window he and Sasuke had crashed through. "Even if they had managed a bloodless coup – which they wouldn't have – Uchiha would have eventually killed everything Konoha stood for. Their ideals were... wrong."

Ashura tilts Naruto's head while Naruto hums, not quite getting it. He can understand Ashura's interest though – because that sounded like acceptance, maybe even submission, to something Indra fought hard against. "So ideals are important then," Ashura asks, sounding smug.

"Shut up," Sasuke mutters and he looks almost embarrassed. "Konoha is corrupt and hiding it behind this veil of greater good which makes it even worse, but it's still... better than most villages."

"Uchiha would have made it like other villages," Indra says.

Rain and Sand, Naruto thinks and Ashura shudders.

"Konoha was strong and successful because it got closes to bridging the gap," Ashura says. "Because we built it together."

"And it became weak," Indra says harshly.

"Yeah, because you left," Ashura mutters and takes a gulp of stale tea.

There's a tense silence for a moment before Naruto clears his throat. "So, why now?" he asks and looks towards his headband, sitting on the table near them. "This is before genin exam, isn't it?"

Sasuke looks that way too, but he doesn't know the significance of the scratched metal against brand new untested cloth. "Yeah," he says and looks away. "It seemed like the best change point – without having to wait useless for years."

"Huh?"

"Change of personality at this conjunction won't be too noticeable," Indra explains coolly. "Because Kakashi doesn't know Sasuke personally and it is understandable for new Genin to affect new traits. In academy, it would have been noticed by the teachers."

"And I thought I could fake it until Land of Wave – after that everything can be chalked up as post trauma," Sasuke shrugs.

Ashura hums and Naruto nods in agreement. It makes sense. Except, "You think we can fake this?" he asks, motioning between.

"Well, this wasn't exactly planned, was it?" Sasuke mutters.

"This will affect more than your plan of changing future events," Ashura says and looks at Indra. "Doesn't it?"

Indra scoffs and looks down and says nothing.

#fanfiction #naruto #uzumaki naruto #uchiha sasuke #ashura otsutsuki #indra otsutsuki #time travel

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a-damson-in-distress · 7 years

Text

From Dusk Till Dawn

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: MadaSaku

Plot: Sakura was searching for a purpose. Madara was thursting for revenge. Little do they know their fates intertwined centuries ago. Once he broke free from his banishment, he would usher in a new dusk. Until he realised that she was his dawn. Historical/mythological AU.

Note: New idea, new setting, new pairing. I hope you like it. Depending on the feedback I get on this, I might wrap it up in a few chapters or actually make it a more in-depth and extensive fanfic. So reviews are always welcome. :)

She heard screams. The clash of metal. The rumbling of the earth. The crackling of fire.

There was a man in the middle of it all. Clad in armour, splattered with blood. Everything around him withered and died. The very earth underneath his feet turned bleak and barren whenever he took a step.

She could see herself, as if her spirit had left her body and was hovering over her form. She was standing there, surrounded by the carnage, watching their futile attempts to stop him.

When there were no more opponents, he turned to her.

As he raised his head, his fair fell out of his face, revealing crimson eyes staring right at her.

Sakura opened her eyes and lazily let her gaze follow the sparrow that had just awoken her by flapping its wings right next to her ear. It inspected her curiously, cocked its head to the right, and took off again.

Sakura let out a sigh observing the little bird, wishing that she too, could let herself be carried away by the soft caress of the wind. Alas, she was bound to her own little bird cage. A splendid and luxurious one, granted, but a cage nonetheless. Her mother Tsunade had made it undoubtedly clear over the years that Sakura was the most precious thing in the universe to her and that she would watch over her like a hawk watching over its unhatched eggs. To Sakura's chagrin, she did just that.

The young woman was aware that she was weaker than most and that her mother's constant attention wasn't entirely unwarranted. But Tsunade was so adamant in her care that she did not even once let Sakura leave her palace and explore what was on the other side of its ivory gates.

Maybe it has something to do with that dream I always have, Sakura thought to herself. She confronted her mother many times about the man with the crimson eyes she kept seeing in the dark hours of the night, yet she never received an answer. Whenever she brought up her dream, Sakura would witness her mother's form stiffen a little, as if she were anticipating an ambush any second. Her caramel brown eyes that usually shone with unshakable pride and courage would show just a slight hint of fear. Tsunade would always regain her composure, though, pat her daughter on the head, and say that her mind was far too bright to occupy it with just one tiny little dream.

The pinkette sighed, got up from the balcony she fell asleep on, and headed towards her mother's chambers. Sauntering through the high halls of her mother's palace, she thought to herself that maybe today was the day she finally got some answers. For some reason, Sakura had the feeling that this day was special. Like something immensely important had happened on this day in the past. Or something immensely important was yet to happen on this day today.

Smoothing out the wrinkles of her silk dress, she came to a halt in front of the wooden doors leading into her mother's spacious office. As always, Tsunade, being renowned for her impeccable perception, had sensed beforehand she was coming and told her daughter to enter just as Sakura was about to knock.

Pushing the heavy doors open was always straining for Sakura, given her generally weak condition. Yet her mother insisted on having her do straining tasks like these on a regular basis, in the hopes of building up her strength. Sakura had obediently been doing that for as long as she can remember, but nothing helped to counter the constant frailty she seemed to be carrying around with her like iron shackles weighing her down.

Sitting down on a cushion in front of her mother, she placed the book she had just read on the low desk separating the two of them, and whispered, "I finished it." The older blonde was busy writing, not once looking up from the brush she guided across the piece of parchment. "And, did you like it?"

"It was exciting. But not as exciting as that dream I had again."

A crack could be heard as the brush suddenly snapped in two. Her mother cursed under her breath, sighed, and placed the broken brush next to the parchment, careful not to let any ink drop on the document.

Caramel brown eyes looked up and scrutinised the pink-haired girl in annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you this, child? That dream of yours is just that: a dream. We all have much more important issues to think about than dreams, and that includes you."

"Easy for you to say, you've been the goddess of healing for ages. Kakashi has been the god of lightning since forever. Naruto has been the god of friendship for as long as I can think. What am I the goddess of? What is my purpose? What should I occupy my oh-so-bright mind with?"

"For some gods their purpose is obvious from the beginning. For others, it takes time to be revealed. You are still young, the youngest of all the dawn gods, in fact. You haven't even begun to crawl and yet you already want to run." Sakura snorted and turned her head in annoyance. As if she hadn't heard that a million times already.

It was true, with her 500 years she was a child among the gods. But out of all the other deities she knew, there was not a single one who had to wait this long for their true purpose to reveal itself.

A look of helplessness settled on Sakura's fair features; a look Tsunade was only too familiar with. She had to see it time and time again whenever she was forced to rebuff her daughter's attempts at finding out more than she should.

But today was Sakura's birthday, the blonde goddess remembered, so she decided to turn a blind eye on her usual reticence.

Clearing her throat to get her daughter's attention, she spoke, "I know you will not rest until I satisfy at least a tiny part of that endless curiosity of yours. So I will tell you a story that you do not know yet, as a gift for your birthday."

Sakura's face still showed the same sulkiness, but Tsunade saw her ears perk up in attentiveness.

"On this day, exactly 500 years ago, I heard a human couple pray to me. They said they found a baby in the woods that morning, but it was weak. Its skin was pale, and it was shivering and coughing. Being the good-natured people they are, they took the baby in, clothed it, fed it, sat it by the fire. All day, they took care of the baby, trying to build up its strength, hoping it would last the night. When they realised it wouldn't, they prayed to the goddess of healing to help the baby. I gazed upon the child and realised there was much more to it than meets the eye. What I sensed then was not human weakness, but the essence of divinity. So instead of healing the baby, I decided to take it with me instead and to raise it as my own. And 500 years later that baby has grown into the most beautiful, albeit stubborn young lady to ever grace the face of the heavens."

The pout had left Sakura's face by now and was replaced by eager interest.

Although she knew that she was not Tsunade's actual daughter, her mother had never told her how exactly she came under her care. This was the very first time her mother had divulged anything about how she found her or the day she came into existence.

Replaying the story in her mind, Sakura could feel the gears in her head spinning. She looked up at her mother curiously and asked, "You told me once that divine entities emerge as a result of something. Suffering spawns the goddess of healing. Inequity spawns the god of justice. There is always a catalyst for the existence of every god and goddess directly related to their purpose. What was the catalyst for my existence? What happened 500 years ago that spawned me?"

There it was again, Sakura realised. That sudden stiffness, that flash of fear in her mother's eyes that she would only see when she asked about her recurring dream. Tsunade sighed, grabbed another brush from the holder, and dipped it in ink before continuing to write her unfinished document. "Enough story telling now. I believe there are still some unread books and scrolls in the library for you to sift through."

Sakura wasn't going to get any more answers today, she realised; the river of her mother's talkativeness had ebbed away. Sighing in defeat, she rose from her position and headed towards her chambers. Sakura had a feeling, however, that she was not going to sleep tonight.

That nagging premonition about this day being a special one just would not go away. Whatever important event she was expecting to happen had to occur tonight.

And so, she would wait for it.

His time had finally come, he couldfeel it.

After centuries of unjust imprisonment, he was going to return at last, and with him an insatiable hunger for vengeance.

What fools they had all been to think they could have sealed him away for all eternity. A foolishness they were going to regret bitterly as soon as he broke free from his banishment.

Just a little longer, he thought, and the seal would be weak enough for him to dispel.

Tonight, he decided, he would wreak havoc upon the heavens.

#naruto #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #madasaku #madara uchiha #Sakura Haruno #madara #sakura #madasaku fanfic #sakumada

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hermadnessmac · 7 years

Text

SasuSakuMonth17 Day 2

Title: And Nothing More Summary: In pointing out everything Sakura’s not, Sasuke starts to figure out just who she is. Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto--I just like to play in the universe. Prompt: Something More from day two of the SasuSakuMonth Prompts. Rating: T Words: 2,880 Warning(s): None

When a girl with bubblegum pink hair walked into Sasuke Uchiha’s life at age twelve, he had no intention of letting her stay.

Sakura Haruno was smart, that much was true. It was also true, however, that one glance at her too-wide stance and weak grip on her kunai would tell even the lowest ranking chunin that this particular ninja-in-training had very little aptitude for the more practical aspects of her chosen career. What was her plan for facing an opponent, anyway? Lecture them on chakra pathways until they got bored and left? Stun them with her brilliant use of the most basic substitution technique? Startle them by throwing kunai in their general direction?

No. This girl with bright green eyes and innocence wrapped around her as tightly as a swaddled baby was not going to last. Innocents made great sheaths for the monsters of the shinobi world; Sasuke was only too aware of this.

At best, he concluded, Sakura was an accessory. A shiny bauble that dangled off the arms of nin far stronger and more menacing than they. At worst, she would become canon fodder. The unskilled foot soldiers that provided the numbers or distraction of any large scale operation.

Even Naruto, dead-last imbecile that he was, had the unwavering resolve to get better. Grow stronger. He knew the cold ache of loneliness that had long since taken root in the very marrow of Sasuke’s existence. While Naruto dealt with that sickly sting differently than he--choosing to shout out instead of shut up--Sasuke could respect that the blonde was still racing in the same direction as him: forward. And if his teammate had set his sights on Sasuke’s back as some sort of target, so be it.

Maybe he would use him as a springboard.

Sasuke had no need of arm candy with appropriately colored hair, however, so he elected to leave Sakura behind.

She was dead weight. A liability. A nuisance. Annoying.

And nothing more.

--x--

When a girl with wide, innocent eyes stepped in front of a deadly opponent with nothing but a poorly grasped kunai, Sasuke’s brain told him it was only a matter of time.

His feet apparently responded to different sort of logic, and he found himself acting as a human shield for his terrified female teammate before his brain had finished its smug, “I told you so.”

Luckily Kakashi had intervened, but later, when the threat of danger was no longer imminent, Sasuke had to wonder about his actions. Why was he so willing to throw his life away for a meaningless girl? He had goals to achieve. Threats to eliminate. Family to avenge. Offering himself up as a pincushion would bring about none of the things he strove for.

So why? Why?

Sasuke found sleep more elusive than it usually was for the duration of the mission. He wasted nights he should have been resting weighing the restless souls of his clan against the bright life of his teammate. Perhaps that--the fact that she still had a future ahead of her--was the reason he intervened. But was it forgivable to put the needs of an outsider above the needs of his family--even if they were dead?

When, no more than a few days later, Sasuke found himself protecting Naruto from sure death, he was annoyed, yes. Annoyed, but also a little relieved.

His apparent death wish wasn’t reserved only for Sakura but also for his teammates. Sasuke had been reporting to Kakashi for less than a month, and already his first lesson repeated like a mantra in his head: those who don’t take care of their comrades are lower than trash.

Not that, Sasuke told himself, he particularly cared what Kakashi thought. He needed the Jonin’s jutsu expertise--not his life advice. Still, the man was a legend. Not as legendary as the man he wanted to kill, but legendary enough that Sasuke could forgive himself for letting Kakashi’s words take root in his subconscious so quickly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke observed Sakura as she walked in a subdued manner beside him. Although the tear tracks staining her cheeks were no longer, her eyes were bright red and puffy. That was because of him. When she had thought he was dead, she had cried for him. Not dainty, fake tears. Messy, snotty, heartbroken tears. For him.

And even though it wasn’t useful, even though it broke shinobi rule #25, and even though he normally found her attention grating to an extreme level, somewhere a lot less deep than he wanted it to be, Sasuke was touched. It felt..nice to have someone care about you. To know someone would have his back and care about his well-being.

Sasuke looked at Sakura for a second longer before glancing at Naruto. The barest of grins fell into place. If this was what teammates were, Kakashi’s rule might make sense. And, therefore, so did his actions.

She was a person worthy of his protection. A fellow nin. A comrade.

And nothing more.

--x--

When his female teammate stood in front of him covered in an alarming numbers of bruises and scratches and swollen bits, Sasuke Uchiha never meant to act with anything but indifference.

Injuries were a constant companion of every ninja that ever was and ever would be.

So why was he burning with rage instead? The last time Sasuke could remember being this furious was the day he swore to himself he would avenge his clan’s death with his brother’s head on a pike. He could barely look at her without wanting to burn the whole fucking forest down.

On Naruto the deep wounds decorating her arms would be battle scars. Although Sasuke personally felt walking away from a fight unscathed was a stronger testament to a ninja’s adroitness than a brocade of scars, there was no denying that they were evidence of survival. After all, no one picked a fight with Ibiki on a whim.

Sakura, though--Sakura’s skin was supposed to stay unstained. She had chosen to place herself on the front lines, true. Just like him, just like Naruto, and just like every other Leaf nin. She was Sasuke’s sister in arms, technically. A back to place against his when the kunai were dense and escape routes were few.

But Sasuke saw the soft in Sakura all too easily.

There was affection in her eyes as she groused at Naruto and a playful tilt on her lips as she scolded Kakashi for his choices in literature. He knew that she adored sunrises and sunsets and butterflies and fireflies. She would rather be curled up in a patch of sunlight reading a book on genjutsu than training with her weaponry, but Sasuke had noticed the calluses that slowly grew on her hands.

It seemed, slowly but surely, Sakura was evening out the number of hair products and weapons she owned. Her bravery was matched equally with her fear. Labeling her the ‘weak link’ of the team would be easy--Sasuke had thought the same thing at first--but the exact same characteristics that made her weak made her a crucial component of their team.

She was Sakura, and, somewhere along the way, she had snuck up in Sasuke’s ranks from ‘comrade’ to ‘precious person.’

Because Sasuke cared that Sakura felt confident and not dejected, and not just because her insecurities could be the downfall of their team. He knew it was naive to think so, but in the last couple of months he had convinced himself that he and Naruto could shield her from any harm. If they could just grow strong enough, move fast enough, learn enough jutsu, Sasuke would never have to hear her scream in fear again. Never.

Idiot.

It didn’t matter that she was just one person or that Sasuke was older; he could no better protect her than he could stop his brother from annihilating everyone he had loved.

She was a pink target. A fleeting ray of sunshine. A doomed precious person.

And nothing more.

--x--

When a worried friend placed herself between him and the path out of Konoha's smothering walls, Sasuke Uchiha had every intention of brushing her aside and never looking back.

Sakura was a weakness, but her liability didn’t stem from her overly-conditioned hair and practically empty repertoire of useful ninja techniques as he had initially assumed. Sakura was his weakness specifically. She was his siren’s call.

In retrospect, he should have figured it out sooner. Sasuke had tasted power, just the smallest nibble, before Sakura’s arms and voice drew him back too soon. Instead of begrudging the loss, though, he spent his time mourning the blemishes on his teammate’s once-porcelain skin. Weak, unfocused, pathetic.

The twine-like bonds she had laid on him as a teammate had already transformed into shackles, and Sasuke could bear nothing holding him back if he wanted to move forward.

He had it right in the first place; Sakura was a shiny bauble. A distraction. To hell with Kakashi and his lectures on teamwork. Throwing himself between Sakura and danger wasn’t admirable. It was folly. Pure and simple.

So when Sakura cried, unshielded and honest, loudly enough for any to overhear that she loved him, Sasuke told her how annoying he found her.

But he also told her thank you, because he hadn’t yet squashed the part of himself that responded to those pure eyes, hopeful lips, and honest heart. He laid her down because he couldn’t bear to throw her aside like nothing, and he did it gently because the thought of hurting her any more made his stomach turn.

“It’s because your heart is lacking...lacking in hatred.”

And it was. His actions of the past few months with Team 7, towards Sakura now, proved that. But no longer.

She was a temptation. A moment’s weakness. A comfort.

And nothing more.

--x--

When a furious femme fatale stormed the walls of Orochimaru’s crumbling hideout, Sasuke Uchiha hadn’t meant to call to her.

Striking Sakura down before she realized the threat would have been the more disciplined approach. It had been two and a half years since they had laid eyes on each other, though, and Sasuke was curious to see what he would find in those eyes. Were they still as unshielded and innocent as when he had left her behind?

Immediately Sasuke cursed his own weakness. He thought he had squashed the softness from his soul years ago. Yet not even a minute had passed in Sakura’s presence, and he was already seeking out her attentions--longing to see her look up at him in awe. Wanting to see her recognize how powerful he’d become without her to drag him down.

As he drew his sword to strike Naruto down, he told himself it was only her strength that captivated him now. He had heard the rumours, of course. Shutting out news of old teammates was hard when each member had landed themselves an apprenticeship from one of the legendary Sannin. So, yes, Sasuke had heard about Sakura in their time apart. Stories of a young medic already stepping out of her mentor’s shadow flitted about most villages. Already whispers of a pink-haired kunoichi who downed Sasori of the Red Sand could be heard in the shadows.

Reconciling the image of the trendy and polished girl he had left behind with the practically dressed young woman before him was difficult, though. Once painted nails were chipped and full of grime. Then enchanting, calculating green eyes narrowed beneath long, full eyelashes, and Sakura charged.

At that moment, Sasuke became certain that his fascination with the temptress before him was...professional.

She was a kunoichi. A fellow apprentice of a Sannin. A force to be reckoned with.

And nothing more.

--x--

When a Leaf kunoichi held a poisoned kunai in her hands and lies on her lips, Sasuke Uchiha felt the last fraying cord of his sanity snap.

There was not one thing, he was certain, not one single thing about Konoha that was worth saving. They thought they were so good and noble. Playing at being samurais in shining armor while war, death, disease, and famine sprung forth in their wake. How dare they preach morality from pedestals forged from his clan’s bones?

And it was all of them.

Not just the leaders or the politicians. Not just the Anbu and the elites. The Jonins and Chunins. The blacksmiths and doctors and civilians, too. Until this very second, he had considered the Genin and children an unfortunate casualty. He had only considered them guilty by associated with a tainted system, but now he knew that they too would rot from the inside out as time passed.

Of all the terrible things he had thought of Sakura, Sasuke had never considered her a deceiver. They stood on opposite sides, but he had expected her to approach him as openly as she always had. Yet here she stood with falsehoods forged to suit her own goals.

She was an enemy. A backstabber. A liar.

And nothing more.

--x--

When a Konoha colluder broke the horn off of a Goddess’s head with only her fist, Sasuke found he wasn’t the least bit surprised.

The moment Sakura jumped up onto the rock overhang with Naruto and him was the moment she came into her full power, and she had been turning heads ever since. Even the dobe, the one teammate who had been around to see her grow the most, had been shocked by the monstrous strength she suddenly channeled. It wasn’t that Sakura’s display left him unfazed. Instead, reunited on the ultimate battlefield, Sasuke felt a surge of pride for the mountain-leveling hellion before him.

They had separated once more soon after, but Sasuke saw the miniature versions of Katsuya attached to the cannon fodder nin of the Alliance. Saw shinobi up and fighting that should have already taken their final breaths.

Later, when Sasuke had felt Sakura falter under Madara’s gaze, he was almost hopeful she would let his ancestor focus on Naruto and him and stay out of sight. It proved to only be a moment’s hesitation, however, because Sakura shot past the both of them with the order to use her as a diversion.

Then she went and got herself impaled.

His heart seized when he saw the chakra rod holding Sakura aloft poking through the back of her flak jacket. She didn’t cry out, though; she just gritted her teeth and raised her fist to deliver a devastating blow. Of course, one of Madara’s shadows acted as an invisible shield, but the fact of the matter was she had tried to face down Sasuke’s ancestor--she had surprised Madara, even. After all, not many people still throw earth-shattering punches when they’ve been impaled.

As far as he knew, Sakura hadn’t spoken with the Sage of Six Paths. She hadn’t received any insights or gifts from one of the first chakra wielders. So, when Sasuke told her there was nothing she could do anymore, it was just because he wanted her to understand that, just like that time in the Forest of Death, she was facing opponents far above her pay-grade.

Sakura refused to back down, though. Madara’s murderous gaze made her falter but didn’t make her flee. Kaguya’s overwhelming reservoir of chakra made her wary but didn’t make her retreat. Had Sasuke not placed a genjutsu on her, she probably would have tried to interfere with Naruto and his fight, too.

Because, power ups or no, Sakura Haruno was one of them.

She was an elite. A Neo-sannin. An equal.

And nothing more.

--x--

When Tsunade’s successor crouched over his prone form and focused on knitting his mortal wound closed, Sasuke Uchiha wasn’t overwhelmed with relief at his survival.

He was overwhelmed with guilt.

Kami, how had he gotten everything so wrong and twisted up? Labeling Sakura--who she was to him, what she had accomplished--had become something a habit. As if summing up her existence in a few tidy words would make his feelings for her easier to contain.

Of course, it didn’t. Demeaning her and idolizing her had failed in equal measures. It had been like using explosive tags to try and defy gravity. Sasuke wrought plenty of wreckage in his wake, his fevered attempts at escape, but sooner or later physics became an inevitability.

And Sasuke was left to face the fact that he had spent his life hurting the person he loved the most.

The fact was that he had understood so very little. It had been a long time--ten years, to be precise--since Sasuke had allowed himself to love. Not lust for or admire, but love unabashedly and unfiltered in the way that Sakura had her whole life. So, for the first time, Sasuke was beginning that Sasuke loved every facet of her--not just this label or that description or that characteristic.

Because, the truth was, she was all of that. Annoying. A comrade. A precious person. A comfort. A force to be reckoned with. A liar. An equal. Sakura Haruno was all of those things, every single one and sometimes none of them at all, but still--still, she was…well.

His soulmate. His future. His second chance.

And still something more.

#ssm17 #ssm17d2 #hermadnessmac writes #sorry i'm so late on this #and it's kinda long #but i hope you all enjoy my excessive use of parallelism

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