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kyberphilosopher · 4 years

Text

𝐀𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚

The both of them were searching for someone whose demons would mirror their own.

Word Count: 5489

a·kra·sia/əˈkrāZH(ē)ə/ noun

“akrasia: the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been far too versed in the light side of the force for your taste. It was annoying, to say the least. The way the Jedi walked around like they’re better than everybody else, and then denying it. The narrow minded point of view. The ridiculous robes. It was all very exhausting to deal with.

The Jedi Order had no recollection of you. There was nothing to suggest you had ever been a part of them, or even ever fallen under the power of the Republic. Therefor, nobody knew where you came from.

Anakin and Master Kenobi simply encountered you one day as a General for the Separatist forces. You were also a Sith of some kind- they weren’t sure on the details. The very first fight ended with you nearly killing Anakin, Obi-Wan having to bandage his knee, and you receiving a scar from your left collarbone to your shoulder. Another time, you and Kenobi went head to head. You would’ve killed him, had Anakin not intervened.

So, Anakin didn’t like you very much. Fine with you.

The real prize was Obi-Wan.

As stated above, Kenobi was far too attached to the light for your liking. As far as you could tell, the man wasn’t tempted by the darkness in the slightest. This fact baffled you. You had seen what Kenobi’s life would be like if he became a Sith. He would’ve been far powerful than many of his fellow Jedi. You would've even been willing to venture that his skills would come close to your own! But, the man was inexplicably, irrationally, and annoyingly selfless.

Similarly, Obi-Wan had taken note of your own fatuous traits.

Obi-Wan, through all his goodness, had never thought you to be selfish. There were times where he saw you make selfish decisions, or act selfishly- but you were not selfish by nature. Obi-Wan knew, somewhere deep down, that you felt guilt at your bad deeds. Unfortunately, that distant guilt was not enough to stop you from being ruthless and cunning in battle. And for that, Obi-Wan felt that he had somehow failed you, even though he didn’t know anything about your previous life.

So, if Obi-Wan had to describe you, it could be summed up in a few words. Lethal. Intelligent. Devious. Unnerving. Powerful. Dealing with you was something that Obi-Wan never looked forward to, unlike Anakin, who was secretly rooting for it.

However, despite all your flaws, Kenobi shared something incredibly disturbing with you.

You were the one that had started it. The night of your first encounter, you couldn’t stop thinking about the man. He was just so... good. The way he fought used the third form of lightsaber combat- the one that focused more on defense than offense. So he wasn’t aiming to kill you, and he probably never would be. Baffling. You could sense that he wasn’t excessively good with the use of the force, but well enough. Kenobi was in no way attracted to power or stepping on others. This, in it’s entirety, is what made you decide to try a bit of psychological warfare.

You appeared to him in the night. Projecting yourself across the galaxy, across the moon and the stars, you let him see you. He couldn’t see where you were or where you were going to be, only you. Dressed in black robes and your hair tied back casually, you wore the little scratch Kenobi had given your cheek with pride.

While you were proud of this feat, Kenobi was caught off guard. He had just finished a conversation with Anakin about the young man was seriously skirting the line with the council, ending in Anakin walking away with thin lips. Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at the ground and leaning against the wall in deep thought.

He couldn’t explain what happened next. One blink, and it was the other half of the archive room. The walls glowed blue with technology and magic. The floor was a clean and sterile white. But then, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even really the archive room anymore. In the next blink, Kenobi was looking at the other half of a gray, blockish room. It reminded him very much of a Venator, especially with the giant window that gave a view of the trillions of stars against the ink black heavens.

And, of course, you were there in the middle.

Obi-Wan perked up in shock. His blue eyes widened, his shoulder coming off the wall as his lips parted. You stayed still, your hands clasped behind your back as a smirk danced across the corners of your mouth.

“Hello, my dear Obi-Wan,” you greeted slyly. “What’s the matter? Did you miss me already?”

Obi-Wan took only a second to understand the situation. He wasn’t sure how you were doing this, or a certainty as to why. Still, he was a smart man, and he saw that if this was how the night would go, then so be it.

“Oh, of course,” he answered with equal tone. His own lips were curling up into a smile, the way they did when Ventress tried to pull dialogue like this with him. The only difference was that he truly preferred you doing this instead of her. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I forget the man with such a clean technique?” you quipped back. Your right hand raised up to gesture at the dark red injury on your face.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow smugly. The retort he had thought of was not even a true one, but he knew how this banter would go. “I suppose any technique would appear clean to you, Y/N.”

Yes. There it was. That little twitch in your lips that revealed the Jedi had struck a nerve. “Oh, and here I was believing Ventress when she told me you were a gentleman.”

“Did she? Why don’t you tell me where she’s going to be next so I can talk to her about it myself?”

“Does it matter?” you questioned. Step one of throwing him off was complete. Now it was time for step two- sowing doubts. “You’ve already lost the war. You’re going to lose the battle, too.”

“That’s bold talk from you,” Obi-Wan challenged.

“I’d call it truthful gossip,” you mused. “And in case you’d forgotten, I almost killed your precious padawan today.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but take a sharp, defensive step forward. “Anakin is more than capable of holding his own.”

“But you care about him,” you ventured. Your grin was becoming more and more poisonous as you began to waltz around the area. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Obi-Wan knew that. “What’s going to happen when you’re forced to kill him? Ah, I can only wonder.”

Kenobi was at a loss for words. His eyes were flitting back and forth between your own, trying to make sense of your statements. Were you lying to him? Was this part of the obvious ploy to upset him? If so, it was working. He cared for Anakin. He couldn’t imagine harming the man he called his brother.

“Oh, how I wonder,” you smirked finally. Then you turned away from Obi-Wan, and he was left alone in the Archive room again, as if you were never even there.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The next time you had come to him, things ended differently.

It was days before your third encounter, and your second fight. The last time you’d seen him, he’d only caught a glimpse of you smirking before disappearing into the depths of the ship and most likely the escape pods. But this time, Kenobi and Cody had hatched a brilliant plan to intercept you outside Christophsis. During the battle to attempt to slow your troops, Anakin and Obi-Wan would infiltrate your ship and attempt to subdue you. There was no way you could reach the escape pods this time- a new confrontation was inevitable.

While Obi-Wan leaned over the holotable, studying the battle plans and maps, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. His blue eyes glinted in the glow of the room, sparkling like two little planets. Even you had to admit, the General had a beautiful, analytical brain that everyone could take a few lessons from. This only spurred you on more in your endeavor to ruin him, however.

“What’re you looking at?” you mused.

Obi-Wan stiffened upright, focusing on your voice. He knew you hadn’t somehow sneaked your way onto the ship at least, which left the second most likely scenario more realistic.

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out,” he said. Obi-Wan turned around, careful to leave one hand looming over the button that turned the table back to simple planets. In a swirl, the maps and plans were gone, replaced with artificial stars and systems projected into the air. The ocean light of the room fell over your features faintly, which confused the Jedi for a second. The only colors he had ever seen as shadows with you were the deep red from your lightsabers. Usually, they were so angry and stark that you looked menacing.

Make no mistake- you were menacing. Obi-Wan would never be foolish enough to think that you weren’t. But in the sapphire light, you reminded him of a Jedi. You looked- dare he say it?- pretty. Softer. Is that what you could’ve been at one point? A Jedi? Soft, and pretty?

“You flatter me,” you purred as you dipped your head. “I almost really believed you weren’t a gentleman.” You gave Obi-Wan the moment to respond, but he did not take the possibility. In fact, you could see that he was clearly raking his eyes over your face in search of some kind of answer. Perhaps you should do the same.

“Tell me,” you continued. “How does the gentleman intend to capture the lady tomorrow?”

You took note of the faint wrinkles under his eyes. They weren’t from age or ailment, but lack of sleep and too much experience. There were few marks on his face, but still noticeable. No, they didn’t make him appear unattractive or undesirable, but instead gave him a sort of character. Did he have scars along his body? Was there ever a foe who marked him forever? Sure, you had scratched the Jedi with your lightsaber not too long ago, but it was nothing that wouldn’t eventually fade. Even then, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same to you. Your cheek was still streaked with a thin, pink gash that had begun to heal as a part of your flesh from what Kenobi had done to you.

“Perhaps the gentleman would rather avoid conflict all together?” Kenobi mused. Ever the polite one, this man. “Perhaps you could turn yourself in now and save yourself the troops?”

You scoffed audibly. It was close to a laugh, but not quite. Did Sith’s laugh? “You are easily mistaken if you believe I care for the lives of a few clankers.”

“Clankers? Spending some time with the Clones, are we?”

“I’ve had enough of them in my detention cells to know what kind of language they use,” you said with a promise. In truth, you had captured a few Clone troopers, but that wasn’t how you had picked up the term ‘clanker’. You had gathered it after hearing some Clone describe it while listening in on transmissions. Finding it catchy and somewhat clever, you adopted it yourself.

“Is that something you enjoy?” Obi-Wan quizzed. He took a step forward, his hands coming together with bent arms to hide each other in the length of his sleeves.

No, actually. It wasn’t. You’d never cared much for torture. Sure, you had used it when you had to, but it had never been your first resort. You had no explanation for this. It just didn’t seem high up on your priorities list.

“Now, who doesn’t love a good torture chamber?” you quipped.

Unfortunately for you, it was too late for that kind of response. Obi-Wan had somehow seen the fault in your face. Maybe he saw your brow twitch, or your eyes dull, or your throat catch- you couldn’t say. But he had seen it.

Obi-Wan nodded once, his lips still upturned at the stimulation from the interaction. “I don’t believe you.”

You weren’t sure where to go now. Your cocky and sarcastic features were beginning to fade away, replaced with a slow and diminishing frown.

“Give up this fight,” Kenobi ventured. “If you turn yourself in now, you’ll avoid bloodshed. We both know that’s what you want.”

You swallowed dryly. Did you want that? To avoid bloodshed? You hadn’t minded it in the past, but there were times when you found enough of it distasteful. Could tomorrow’s battle be one of those times?

“A Sith does not negotiate with the weak,” you finally answered. Once more, your face hardened back to it’s original expression. Menacing.

Obi-Wan wondered if he should’ve said the next words. He played them over in his mind several times in the next second, before finally deciding on giving them a try. “Then perhaps, you are not a Sith.”

Your eyes widened at the statement. It struck a million things inside of you- anger, frustration, wonder, longing, embarrassment, astonishment, fear- everything. Your lungs tightened so much in your chest, they felt sore. From the sheer impact of Kenobi’s words, you took a step back defensively.

Then you disappeared again.

Obi-Wan stumbled backwards, hand reaching to clutch his heart. A dull headache had immediately begun forming in his temples, thrumming around like a growing drill. His lungs felt like they had had all the air kicked from them. His right cheek stung in the shape of a straight, thin line. Struggling to catch his breath, the Jedi reached his free hand back to grip onto the edge of the holotable for support.

Mirroring the man, you jolted back as his form vanished. Your feet slipped from under you, and one of your knees was now angrily demanding your attention. Your bottom hit the floor flatly as your chest heaved up and down, gasping for the breath you had somehow lost. A bead of sweat had singularly formed on the side of your face in something like terror and shock.

Neither you, nor Obi-Wan could explain this.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

By the third... ‘projection’ between you and Obi-Wan, you had met eachother on the battlefield six times, and Anakin five. The scar Kenobi had given you from your first encounter had softened significantly. Even so, it would remain forever. As much as you hated it, you had spent several nights awake thinking of how it was like a kind of mark he had made on you. Not quite something that ‘claimed’ you, per say, but a type of signature. A permanent autograph or stain that was made by the person who bothered you the most.

Ventress, who was probably the closest thing you had to a friend, had told you it was awfully seductive in her overly sweet voice. While her hand caressed your cheekbone, the heaviness of your heart only briefly softened before falling back.

But the third projection was different. You were not the one who initiated it. In fact, after your second meeting, you were perfectly happy to never interact with Kenobi again, unless you were fighting. During those combative moments, you could put your deep thoughts aside in order to accomplish your mission.

But this time was not a combative moment. And yet, you were having some trouble accomplishing your mission.

“Go on,” your master commanded in his low voice. “Execute the younglings.”

Your lightsabers were in your hands, crossed over each other. When you would pull them apart, the sabers would slice out, and heads would roll. That’s what was bothering you. The heads reminded you very much of your young nephew, who had turned six not too long ago.

You couldn’t remember why you had to do this. All you could remember was that Count Dooku was telling you to do it, and his patience would not last forever. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to kill younglings. They hadn’t done anything wrong, and they had no place in the war.

And thus, this was why you were hesitating. Every time you thought you had the surge of energy to do the deed, your heart pounded so hard your arms stayed stiff.

“Is it really so hard?” Count Dooku said tautly. His eyes narrowed in disappointment at you, frown deepening.

And then, Kenobi’s voice called out to you. Like an angel, or a kind of conscious, you could see him so clearly in front of you, it was like you were actually speaking to him.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows were furrowed together in concern as he looked you up and down. He could see your stance, and the force surrounding you so intensely. He could analyze the sweat forming, your heart rate that matched his own. Your expression was laced with anguish and conflict, and he just knew you were about to do something you didn’t want to do. Obi-Wan understood that you were about to kill.

“Where are you?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer. You would’ve looked like you were talking to yourself, and how horrible would that have been in front of Master Dooku? Instead, you only open and closed your chapped lips softly. Your eyebrows twitched.

“What are you waiting for?” Dooku boomed at you.

Obi-Wan leaned back and widened his eyes at the recognition of the voice. “Y/N, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”

“If you’re unable to do this, my young apprentice, I will have to find someone more suitable.”

You squeezed your eyes tight.

“Don’t!” Obi-Wan called.

You didn’t stop yourself. You so desperately wanted to. But you didn’t.

Your arms sliced apart. The searing hum buzzed through the air crisply, followed by multiple thumps against the ground.

“Very good,” your master praised coolly from behind you. Even with your eyes shut tight, you could tell he had a cold smirk of relief resting on his face. “Meet me back at my ship.”

You opened your eyes slowly. Your skin felt sticky with sweat, and every muscle in your body was tightened up. Your shoulders and neck felt sore, and even your eyelashes felt heavy. The familiar weight of guilt sunk into your stomach so much more solid than ever before. Maybe it was because you had just committed something so terrible in front of one of the most noble people in the galaxy. Maybe it was just the sheer and straight anxiety that came with doing something you knew was against your better judgement.

Obi-Wan looked at you silently. He knew what you had done. He knew the irreversible, evil and disproportionate thing that you had done.

But now, he also knew that you needed help. You looked at him with pure fear and shame, and he could see how vulnerable and inhumanly human you were. He could tell, for a fact, that you would never be a real Sith. Did you have fear? Anger? Hate? Were you suffering? Yes. But you were not evil. Obi-Wan might’ve even dared to say that you were incapable of being so.

You tore yourself away when Count Dooku called your name from the ship. Eyes darting between his blue orbs. The first step you took away from him, you evaporated into thin air, and Obi-Wan was alone in his ship once more.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The fourth time was the one that changed everything.

You had only faced Obi-Wan and Anakin one time since he saw you kill the younglings, and unfortunately, Obi-Wan had also noticed you had a split second to kill him during the fight. Obviously, you hadn’t taken it.

Your hands balled and unballed themselves against your knees. Palms sweaty, your whole abdomen had begun feeling like shaky jelly. Ever since the day with the younglings, you had begun to lose weight. You felt weaker, even though the darkness inside of you told you to feel so good. The circles under your eyes had darkened and deepened, and several lines had appeared on your face to make you look far more detached.

You look unhealthy and unhinged, to be frank.

Luckily, Ventress was there to tell you you still appeared inherently ‘handsome’.

Your lungs pierced themselves and screamed with every breath.

A hand reached out to touch your own, your left.

You only allowed yourself a few moments to look it over. You observed the veins through it, the strength and width. It was a man’s, and a rather wise man’s at that. You could see little divots and callouses from work with a lightsaber, and clean nails that showed the owner had no time to bite at them anxiously. Despite how much you hated touching, you felt yourself sinking into the simple touch from the hand. It was, to be direct, the most comforting thing that had ever happened to you.

Still, you gripped a hold of your heart, and shot your hand away. Your head raised to meet the owners eyes.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, though you hated to admit it, had the eyes that you found yourself looking for often. Whether it was to avoid him, or find a comfort deep down, you did it. They were dapper and blue and deep, and changed in the shades of the sunlight. In contrast to his strawberry blonde hair, they shown and glimmered like an ocean.

Obi-Wan felt the same about your own. Your eyes were conflicted and obviously conveyed several emotions, but also held a history that captivated him. He felt that they deserved everyone’s captivation. He wanted to study them like he would an ancient story, and memorize every changing detail within them. Even with the tired darkness underneath, he felt that they were uniquely beautiful in their own way.

“Why are you here?” you seethed lowly.

Obi-Wan glanced down, and then back up honestly. “I heard you calling out.” Before you could scoff, Obi-Wan quickly added, “I felt it.”

You shook your head. “I wasn’t calling out. I would never call out for you.”

The man swallowed, determining the best approach. “I know that you are angry, but I’m here to help you.”

Kenobi’s tone was sincere, but you wouldn’t- couldn’t- believe it. “Help me?” you scoff. “I don’t need help.”

The Jedi tilted his head at you, looking deeply into your eyes. His orbs were piercing and infinite, it seemed. “You know that’s not true.”

At that, your anger washed away. A frown came down over you. Your eyebrows knitted themselves together in pain. Your eyes became rimmed with simultaneously hot and cold tears. Cheeks grew pink enough to totally disguise Obi-Wan’s signature.

The way he was looking at you was just so intimate and understanding. Never, not in your whole life, had somebody done this. It seemed, in fact, that Kenobi could see right through you. He could feel you. He could feel your heart, your ribs, your tendons, and your pain. He could feel the soreness in your muscles, how tired your head felt. He wanted, more than anything, for you to have a rest. The Dark Side had done everything it was ever going to do for you. You didn’t need this weight any longer. Obi-Wan wanted to know how you would look when you laughed.

Your head hung down as your first sob came out. Your fists balled even tighter together, both returning to your knees.

Feeling his respect for you, mixed with your sadness, Obi-Wan reached his hand out again. His palm ran over your right fist for the second time, and this time you did not rip away. Instead, your own fingers unraveled and relaxed. The Jedi ran his thumb over your angry knuckles and your cunning fingers, silently keeping you close, even though you were far, far away.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You did not see Obi-Wan in projections again.

Some weeks later, you had however, seen him in his entirety.

Your ship was on fire. Some stupid clanker had miscalculated and allowed your fleet to settle right into General Skywalker’s attack. With every jolt, you stumbled and struggled to maintain balance. Your internal conflict had been continuing to cause you to lose weight in the worst way, and it had recently gotten hard enough to keep yourself upright.

Finally reaching the hanger, you heaved in exertion. Somewhere, Obi-Wan was outside, either flying around or searching for you aboard. You found, to your nightmare, you had missed him terribly in this exact moment.

The igniting hum of a lightsaber made you raise your brows. In the middle of the hanger, with sparks falling from above, was that young Togruta girl. The Skywalker padawan. What was her name again? Aheka? Aurora? Ahsoka? Yeah, Ahsoka.

She glares at you angrily. Her face is scrunched in determination, something that reminds you so much of Anakin himself. Both her sabers were at the ready, and her stance was that of one about to pounce.

Yes, Ahsoka was trained by someone powerful. This, however, did not mean that she was a match for you. If you fought this one without restraint, you would undoubtedly kill her. You did not want to do that.

“Hello, General,” she taunted. Definitely Anakin’s padawan. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Despite your exhaustion and the sharp pain in your ribs, you answered her sincerely. “Please,” you called out. “Please, move aside. I don’t want to fight you.”

Ahsoka’s eyes narrow at you. “You’re under custody of the Galactic Republic now. If you won’t fight, you’ll be detained.”

You shook your head, exhausted and defeated. “I can’t go with you. I won’t fight you, but I won’t go with you.”

Darkly, the Togruta replied to you. “Then I will make you.”

She launched forward from the balls of her feet. In a flash, you managed to take out one of your sabers and switch it on. The red clashed against the green in defense, making you lean back before pushing forward.

No. You would not kill Ahsoka Tano.

You are very strict about playing offense in the next minute. The only time you ever actually strike the young one is when your blades catch each other.

Not so far away, a voice yells, “Snips!”

Ahsoka Tano looks at her master. You identify Anakin quickly enough, and seize the opportunity. Your leg snaps up against the Togruta’s stomach. She crumples on herself with a gasp, and you push her to the ground before moving past her.

As you sprint as fast as you can, you can hear Skywalker scream, “Ahsoka!”

You move down the hallway as fast as you can. You have to get to the escape pods. The hanger is no longer an option. Either that, or find Obi-Wan.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

It doesn’t take you long to find him. You stand at the opposing side of the bridge, your breathing rapid as your headache tortures your temples. There was so much pain inside of you, falling off your robes and your skin like steam. You just wanted this all to end. You wanted to be free. At this point, you didn’t care if it was from the Dark Side, or the Light Side.

And Obi-Wan knew that.

As he finished analyzing you to make sure that, no, you wouldn’t hurt him, he took a tentative step forward.

You looked terrible. Kenobi wanted to fix that.

“Y/N,” he called calmly. “I am here to help you.”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling very hot. “I know,” you confess. Your lip quivers under the weight of everything- the pain, the anger, the frustration, the conflict, the admiration for Kenobi. He looked so handsome now, even with the ever growing danger surrounding the both of you. “I need help,” you admit, voice breaking. “P-please help me.”

Obi-Wan walked quickly to you, sensing your weakness. He knew that at any moment, you were going to collapse both outside and in. Your turmoil had bubbled over, your Akrasia breaking whatever spirit you had left. He knew that you were too tired to feel darkness now. You had nothing left to fear, anger, hate, or suffer over.

“Obi-Wan,” you said shakily. Your hands came up to rub your arms as if you were cold. “I love you.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew how selfish it was to replay the words over in his head at the moment. He just couldn’t help it.

You had always been radiating. You had always been strong and worthy of admiration. When you struggled with your guilt, you struggled with your deeds, and that gave Obi-Wan hope. You had restored his faith all on your own, and he had already known that it was worthy of being expelled from the Order. But this was you. This was the woman he had grown to care for, like a mold to fit into, and had come to understand. The Jedi felt hungry for that. He felt hungry to know you. To analyze you. To help you.

“I know,” the man said, sincerely and slowly. Against his better judgement, and the rocking of the falling ship, his right hand reached out to cup your face. Your skin was warm. Slightly sticky from the sweat, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind. “I know.”

His other hand opened up. His calloused and strong palm revealed itself to you, drawing your attention, and reminding you of the night that he had held your own inside. “Y/N, I need to know if you will follow me.” Obi-Wan paused, looking into your eyes. This was his confession. His begging, his pleading, his longing, was a confession for the love he felt for you. “I need you to come with me. You must leave this behind.” Then Obi-Wan swallowed. “Come with me. Please.”

The both of you were betraying your Orders.

Your right hand came to meet his. Palms against palms, skin against skin, you connected. You could feel Obi-Wan’s need and frustration, and he could feel your longing and fear.

“Yes,” you said, tiredly. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

And, in that moment, you could see a life with Obi-Wan.

He would not leave the Jedi. You knew that for sure. But you would go back to Scarif, where you were born. On a shore, near the crystal blue waters, Obi-Wan would build you a house. He could visit when he had the time, holding you in your sleep to protect you from the oncoming nightmares, and you could kiss the scars on his back. Every time he would leave, your heart would break, but he would always bring you something small to apologize. Perhaps you could start to draw again? Obi-Wan would’ve loved to draw with you. He could teach you how to meditate, and clear your thoughts. Somewhere deep in the ground, you’d bury your lightsabers and never touch them again. On top of that ground, Obi-Wan would hold your form tightly as his skin moved against your own. Everything would be like a song, and maybe one day, you could give him a new verse. You could give him a child. You could have peace. Not fake peace, but real peace. The kind of peace that follows the storm, and lingers til the end of your days.

A choke escapes your throat.

You feel your lungs quiver in weakness, then refuse to allow any more air in. Obi-Wan watches your face change from sorrowful, to shocked. Your mouth agape, eyes wide, you suddenly go very, very pale. He feels you still yourself upright, and he tells himself the blue blade in your chest isn’t real.

Anakin pulls the lightsaber out of you. Your pupils dilate as the blood begins to drip from your nose thinly. You can’t think, you can’t even move. You cripple to the ground without choice.

Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps you close to him as you die. He has nothing to say to either Anakin or yourself, and he knows there is nothing he can do to heal you. He watches you watch him, your vision fading in and out as you try to memorize every detail of Kenobi’s face for the last time. Your vision of a life with him becomes nothing more than a distant memory and a sad dream, and you don’t know when it ended.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Obi-Wan burned and buried you in secret.

The Jedi had loved you, and he had known you enough to see that you deserved respect. You were not to be shipped off into the ground like any old Sith. You were to be cared for, and cradled until the end. Even in death, he wanted to help you.

And perhaps, simply that statement alone, was his greatest form of Akrasia.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

Taglist: @omg-we-really-doo @chokemeanakin @typicalfanlife

This is the version that was requested. Please let me know how you feel and if you noticed any errors! I wrote this while I was very tired, and I may want to tweak some things.

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Text

Calluna

Pairing: Saeran Choi/Reader

Fairytale AU.

Description:

The Prince has been bound to the castle walls, and he’s never been able to leave from it. The only place that he has to escape to are the books that he reads and the garden that he’s allowed to venture into every evening. But, what happens when he encounters someone that has eyes that know a world unlike his own?

Inspired by a drawing by @sensetenou

Chapter Index

Chapter Eleven

Darkness.

All you knew was the darkness. There was no trace of light in the dungeon and nobody to hear you scream, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. You had been used and tricked by Red Hood. He threw you under the carriage and let you take the fall for his crimes.

How anyone believed him, you had no idea. He just pretended to be some sort of knight for justice at the queen’s side, and since Red Hood was only known by the mask, it had been far too easy to cast his blame onto someone else. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands. You knew that you could never trust that man. But, you never thought he would do something like this.

You knew he would make good on his death threats, but this?

A pitiful sob escaped your throat. It didn’t make any sense. How had he made a deal with the queen and what was their plan? You knew that the queen wasn’t innocent and that she had made the people suffer far too much over the years. Red Hood must have found something that she wanted, or maybe they both were after the same goal?

No matter how you wracked your brain for an answer, you could find nothing.

“No… no… no…! This is a mistake!”

You wouldn’t dare close your eyes for more than a minute. Every time that you did, your vision would become overwhelmed with the look of betrayal and hatred in Ray’s eyes. He looked at you like you had shattered his world and in many ways, you had. You had tried to protect him by lying and taking that crown but had you had to do that?

Could you have told him the threat against your life? Would he have believed you? Would you have been able to give up information on Red Hood to him? You weren’t sure. You had always wanted to take the brunt of the pain for yourself due to your pride, and you had been so caught up in trying to ensure that Ray lived—

That you never even considered that maybe there could have been another option. If Ray bore the crown, that would have protected you from the queen’s wrath. He could have done everything to stop Red Hood from controlling you or forcing you to take the knife by the hand. Yet, you knew that no amount of pretending things could be different would fix it.

The second the crown was on his head, something changed in his eyes. He became venomous and very spiteful, his gentle eyes gazing at you with malice.

It was like you didn’t even know him. You had never seen that look in his eyes, nor did you think that Ray would be capable of such anger and venom. Then again, you had broken his trust and stomped on it for all he knew so he had every right to be upset with you. However, the way that he looked at you without even caring what your punishment would be may your blood curdled.

Was this all that you would ever know? Would you die without showing Ray the sea? Would you die knowing that you had been played for a fool?? Would you die with a stain on your past that would forever line the pages of people’s memory? Would you become the demon in a bedtime story to make a child behave?

You knew that you were going to die, that was almost a given with the bounty on Red Hood’s head all these years. But, you could only pray now that it was a swift death without pain. Maybe in your next life, you would be able to be happy with Ray and show him the world that made him look so happy to learn about, but it seemed as though cruel fate would keep you apart.

His anguished eyes would forever haunt you.

Your cries died down after some time, your heart accepting that no one was going to come to your rescue to break you free. They were all scared of Red Hood, and what he said would happen would be the very thing to happen. You didn’t know his end plan but you did know that he was going to hurt everyone to get what he wanted.

You clutched your hands together, praying silently to a God that you hardly spoke to, hoping and wishing that Ray, at the very least, would be okay. You had accepted that he might hate you after tonight but now you knew that he would hate you till the end of time.

You hadn’t wanted things to turn out like this but Red Hood did. Once again, he sealed your fate because you made the wrong choice.

Time passed, but there was no way of knowing how long you would be there. You pressed your head against the cold stone and waited, waited for something to change or something to happen. It was a long time before you heard the sound of footsteps and alongside that sound came the flicker of a torch-lit with fire.

You didn’t bother lifting your head, even as a voice spoke up. “Excuse me, are you alright?”

“What does it matter?” you retorted. “I’m already destined to face punishment. It matters not if I’m okay or not. If you’ve come to take me away, then do it.”

Silence.

Footsteps once again and a warm flame moved closer to your body, the dampness of the cold dungeon hit you all at once. You lifted your head and stared into mint eyes, mint eyes that felt like you had seen once before but couldn’t place the memory. “I don’t work for the queen,” he explained. “I’ve come to get you out of here before it’s too late.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“...Your friend, Hyun, he’s very worried about you,” he said, quietly. “He wants to get you out of here before it’s too late.”

Your stomach sank. Of course, Zen had found out about what happened to you. You knew that he wanted to protect you from being hurt but this was beyond even his power, and there was no way that he could help you.

This castle was heavily guarded and even you had a hard time evading guards and now they were just waiting for someone to make a false move.

Even if you ran, you’d be caught.

Your wings had been clipped and frayed by the very people that you had faith in.

“It’s no use,” you said. “I appreciate that you came this far on my account, sir, but there’s no way that you can get me out of here before the morning. I’ll be lucky if they let me live that long.”

“You’re not Red Hood,” he continued, minding the dread in your voice and picking his words with great care. “You shouldn’t even be facing punishment right now. That man sold you out for his own gain.”

That made you snap to attention. Your fingers gripped the bar of the cell that you resided in, as you stared at this man with a face that you couldn’t discern. His features were blurred by the hood he was wearing, or maybe the darkness, you weren’t sure. All you knew was his eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you stopped him. “How do you know who Red Hood is?”

“It’s a long story,” he told you, sincerely, sinking to his knees to sit with you. “I’m not sure that you would believe me given the detail of events that have occurred in the past ten years. But, yes, I do know his identity and while I do not know what he wishes to gain here, he used you to get what he wanted and that was the queen.”

You had no reason to believe this man at all, but you were desperate and he seemingly believed that you weren’t a guilty party. You had nobody else in the world on your side at the moment that could speak to you, so you wanted to listen and to learn what this man had to say. It might be enough to help you save Ray, if not yourself.

“Surely the queen knows this,” you shook your head, incredulous. “She’s no saint and she’s not easily tricked… not as far as I can tell given the number of people disappearing nightly after they dare speak ill-will of her name.”

The man frowned and gazed down at the ground. “You… you would be right about that. The queen has a plan under her belt right now and I imagine with Red Hood’s powers at her disposal, it’s only cemented her vision.”

You tried to lean closer, to get a better look at this stranger that seemingly knew everything that you needed to know. “Please, sir, what does she want? I’m worried about Ray. I don’t want him to get hurt because those two are planning something nefarious. He may hate me now but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want him to be safe and happy. Please.”

“I suppose… I suppose you’re due that much, Sparrow,” he said as if he knew that he couldn’t hold in his secret any longer from the world. “I’ve been bearing this knowledge for so long on my own and I’ve not made any progress on my own to stop it. I… I’ve seen that you care deeply for him, and I know that your heart is true.”

The fact that you had been willing to cry and beg had been enough to show the world that you were willing to submit your pride. You starred at him as he began to explain his story.

“The crown that he wears is imbued with dark magic,” he explained. “The stones that are engraved into the metal are from a cavern deep in the mountains only known to the greatest users of magic in all the land. The people of this kingdom have long used the stone to give power to the crown. For a long time, rulers of this country would have their magician imbue loyalty and compulsion into the crown so that the wearer would be able to control the masses.”

Magic?

“There is no greater power than these stones, and when someone with a vast amount of power can channel their power into the stone, they can enforce anything they want. The queen wants to use the power of the royal stones to force Ray to follow her plans with an iron fist. She wants him to be the puppet king for her brewing armies. The people that go missing late at night are drafted into her army, and I’m afraid her reach has staggering numbers.”

Suddenly, it was starting to make sense. How people just went missing and everyone didn’t dare to fight back against it. Everyone knew that something was wrong but they could only quietly think that it could be the queen. If anyone said it aloud, they would be taken away. If she had magic controlling everyone, then they could have been under her spell without even knowing it.

Anyone in the village could have been compromised.

Ever since you had learned that magic existed, it seemed to be used to destroy everyone that you loved and cared about. You wanted nothing more than to shatter every trace of magic that you had ever seen to free Ray from its hold and anyone else that was suffering against their will.

“When she leaves the castle and travels to other lands, she is steadily stealing from their numbers and casting blame onto Red Hood every time for the sake of convenience. I imagine he heard of what she was doing and decided to work with her to get what they work. Or, perhaps he knows of the stones’ power and wants it for himself. I fear I do not know what it is he wants but he cannot be allowed to continue his terror alongside the queen.”

You swallowed, ignoring the pit that was growing in your stomach. “And, what does she plan to do with this army, sir?”

His expression darkened as if clouded by a silent fear that even he didn’t want to breathe to life in case it truly happened. His fear was real. You knew that from the way his hands trembled against the torch he held close to his side.

His voice dropped to a whisper, “She wishes to lay claim to all lands in our continent with whatever means necessary.”

There was nothing you could do but breathe in deeply. For some reason, that didn’t surprise you in the slightest. If the queen was willing to use her son to destroy everything for her gain and was so willing to let everyone hate him instead of her, well, taking over everything was nothing to laugh at. To think that the queen not only held the power of the throne but magic as well.

It was disgusting.

Did greed ever cease?

Would you ever find someone that didn’t long to own everything and everyone? You knew that you had with Ray, but he was trapped underneath a spell that would make him obey anything that she’d ask of him. His anger was true and tried. It would be impossible to reason with him if the crown was not removed from his head.

Yet, you were trapped in this dungeon and you would never be able to do such a thing to save him from this horrible fate. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to make people happy, not destroy their last shred of hope. If he knew what he was doing he would be devastated. Even as you knew your fate was set and doomed, you couldn’t help but wish he could be better.

“Wait, that still doesn’t explain how you know he’s the real Red Hood and I’m not,” you stared at him, waiting for his answer. “Who are you? You can’t expect me to take all of this in and not know who you are in return.”

The strange pulled the head from his head and you narrowed your eyes as you tried to discern his features. For some reason, you couldn’t commit any of it to memory. Even as you were seeing him in person. It was like something was stopping you from remembering or knowing what he truly looked like.

And then, it hit you, it hit you like that time you had fallen from a hill trying to get away from a group of guards angry that you had taken from their boss. His mint eyes were the same ones that you had seen in the painting.

The painting of the royal family, the painting that held a vision of Ray’s father that made you hesitate in the throne room.

That could only mean one thing.

“King… Jihyun…?”

His eyes held a great deal of sadness to them. But, he nodded, confirming the sinking suspicion in your loins. “I’m afraid so. Ray is not the only victim of her magic. She also cursed me long ago and I was too naive to see it coming. Rather, I ignored all the warnings when I knew I should have done something and it is my blame alone that the people suffer.”

That made you shudder in fear. If she was willing to curse the king and make everyone believe that he was dead, then what wasn’t she willing to do? If she would use her family as pawns to get what she’d always wanted, then she would have no problem killing you or anything that tried to get in the way of her dreams.

“How are you alive…?” you whispered, reaching out between the bars to brush against the fabric of his cloth to ensure that you weren’t staring at a ghost or a vision. He was real. The king was alive and still breathing in front of you, underneath some kind of curse that he couldn’t defeat on his own. Much as his son.

“I’m afraid that’s an even longer story,” he admitted. “And, I don’t have enough time to tell you all of the details. She grew angry with me because I wouldn’t agree with her way of thinking and the more that I pushed for my plans to allow the people to prosper instead of us, she turned against me and used her black magic to place a curse on me. Now nobody can remember my face, and no one can see me as who I am. She removed all my power from me and took it for herself. Now, I fear that she’s going to use Ray until he’s no longer useful for her cause as well. I cannot allow that to happen. He’s already in grave danger. He always has been.”

And he couldn’t escape from it.

He was cursed to stay within these walls no matter what happened. So, even if he could fight back, he would be trapped with the queen forever. No way you looked at it was going to help you get out of this mess, and now that you knew that you were going against magic and Red Hood, it felt like you had no hope at all. Even with the king here.

It wasn’t like Jihyun had power, either.

He was just as helpless as you were. Why was he telling you all of this anyway? Even if he let you escape, it was obvious that you could never return to this place if you got out. Nobody would believe you or come to your aid, even with the sympathy of Zen, you knew that his power was not going to be enough to help you.

The most that Zen could do would be to send you on a boat to another country.

You put two and two together, “Because of the curse that was placed on him when he was a child, right?”

Jihyun looked away from you… almost as if there were more to the story than that. He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of heavy boots came from the stairwell. He immediately put out the fire and pulled his hood back over his head, ducking into the darkest corner of the room to hide from view. Even if nobody knew his face—

He clearly couldn’t afford to be caught.

His must have had some kind of plan to save Ray, otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to the trouble of finding you. You weren’t sure how much he knew about you or how he knew Red Hood, but you’d known from the look in his eyes that he hadn’t been lying to you. You were a liar, you had been raised around the biggest liars known to man.

You knew one when you saw them.

Jihyun Kim was no liar.

The footsteps stopped and you were forced to lift your head and stare up at a guard. He grinned at you with a sadistic glee in his eyes, “Alright, you, the king has demanded your presence. Lucky you, though, he hasn’t decided what punishment you’ll face for your crimes yet. Bloody Red Hood, I bet you know what’s coming for you, and I’m going to love watching it.”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything. There was no point in fighting their words right now. Red Hood hurt so many people and now you would have the eyes of everyone that he had ever used or hurt looking to you for a bloodbath.

“...”

He opened your cell and you were dragged away by the ones that had accompanied him, away from the king and any answers that you had.

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queenwitchrowena · 3 years

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☽〇☾ — ROWENA MACLEOD

❝ she wore her scars as her best attire, a stunning dress made of hellfire.❞ ☽〇☾ — AESTHETICS

BELIEFE IN PROPHECY AND MAGIC OLD AS TIME — WINTER SOLSTICE ORGIES — BACKLESS FLOOR LENGTH GOWNS AS CASUAL WEAR — WINGED EYELINER SHARP ENOUGH TO CUT YOU — FINDING REDEMPTION AND MEANING IN UNEXPECTED PLACES

☽〇☾ — CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Rowena MacLeod Nickname: Ro (To a few people.) Age: 378 appears mid to late 30’s (spent an additional 190 years in Hell) D.O.B.: 1643 Place of birth: Isle of Skye, Scotland Gender: Cis Female Species: Human/Witch (Natural) Height: 5’2” / 157 cm Weight: 110lbs / 50kg Eye color: Green Hair color: Vivid red copper Relationship Status: It’s always complicated and often fake. Sexuality: Sexually Progressive Powers: Innate magic, learned spell work, ability to create spell work. Weaknesses: Overestimating herself, pride, volatile anger, recklessness Occupation: Witch / Con Artist / Hunter Consultant / Queen of Hell Weapons: Hex Bags, spells, natural magic, Voodoo dolls, crystals, potions, alchemy, manipulation. She is capable of using traditional weapons such as knives and guns when necessary.

Personality: Rowena is intelligent, ambitious, proud, manipulative, Machiavellian, petty, sarcastic, reckless, often self serving, hateful, seductive. She resents anyone who dares to have authority over her. She flirts like mad with people, often for fun, often for her own gain. When she is on someone’s side she can be sweet, calm, warm, and courteous. When she has labeled someone as completely useless, unfortunately in her way, or an enemy, she can be ruthlessly vicious and violent. People that cross her may find themselves in various precarious situations up to and including violent deaths.

Rowena is hard to get to know deeply, she builds walls to keep people from hurting her, not just physically, but emotionally. She is never quite able to be rid of the parts of her that fear and loathe her past. She has always been a dreamer. She is slowly learning to trust and value people and loyalty, even if she might deny it.

Likes: People who can do something for her, knowledge, power, money, magic, Winchesters and their pet angels (though she will not state that out loud), creating her own spells, her son (not that she wants to, she hates him because it’s easier for her), flirting, elegant states of dress, stability, freedom.

Dislikes: Authority over her, being used, baring her feelings, feelings, weakness, abandonment, her own desperation, her past, swallowing her pride, not controlling a situation, being underestimated, being undervalued, people denying their own abilities with magic, most hunters, most other witches, her son lol, most demons, anything that makes her appear unsophisticated, limits.

Appearance: Rowena is a slim petite woman. Pale skin that burns and freckles if she doesn’t stay out of the sun or apply some sort of charm. She keeps her fiery red hair long, with fringe, and alternates between letting it curl naturally or straightening it. She wears it both up and down.

Her clothing choices tend to learn towards the impractical and formal. Long sleeve floor length gowns, dresses, heels, and assorted jewelry. She wears bold winged eyeliner and often bright and shimmery eyeshadow looks, bold red and coral lipsticks. Rowena may occasionally wear something that makes her blend in a bit better, stylish slacks and blouses, sometimes a suit jacket. She never appears not put together if it’s within her control.

Rowena has a number of scars on her body made by the insertion of spell work in the form of hex bags. There is a scar on her outer right thigh, one on the left side above her breast, and one on her left hip above the bone. She also has very faint stretch marks on her belly from pregnancy.

☽〇☾ — BACKSTORY

Rowena MacLeod was born the daughter of a Tanner in 17th century Scotland. She was one of several children born to her parents.

Her mother did not follow witchcraft, her father forbid it, he was a strict man. But she knew that she was born a witch and that magic ran innately through her. She was forced to not speak of it, though she couldn’t always control it. Even without training or knowing the right words, Rowena could speak things into happening given enough passion.

She was different from most of her siblings, the only other one who was capable of magic was an older brother, Fergus, though he too was made to tamp it down. He died when they were still young. A fever took three more of her siblings in childhood, and her mother was often absent or in her own head after that.

When Rowena was 15 she fell in love with a charming wealthy married man. He promised her that he’d take her away and that they would be together. When she was 16 she found herself unwed and pregnant. Her father threw her out in shame, and though her lover housed her in the village after, he did not visit nearly as often after. She knew later his promises were all lies.

He came to see her only once more, on the eve of their son’s birth. It was a long and hard birth and it was said that she wouldn’t make it. Her lover kissed her on the forehead and told her that he loved her. It was his last kindness. He left her there, dying, penniless, and went back to his wife and other children, expecting her death. Though Rowena managed to make it through, weak as she was, with a healthy son to show for it. She named him after the brother that she had been closest to.

Afterwards, baby Fergus’ father denied ever knowing Rowena at all. She was alone, with a child she couldn’t help but desperately love, cast out of her family for her sin of bearing a child outside of marriage, and labeled a whore by everyone else.

She sought to use her magic, thinking it would be what would save them. But what little she could do only earned her a worse reputation. Rowena was forced to take her baby and leave, she thought elsewhere she might be able to tell people that she had been widowed, but it hardly mattered. She had nothing and no one, and a baby to care for. Life was hard for them. Rowena was often unable to provide even the most basic things for her child. With her reputation she couldn’t find any reputable work. Instead, she sold her body to pay for what meager little she could to keep a roof over their heads. And she learned what she could of magic from wherever she could.

She did her best for her son, taught him what she could, and tried to shield him from what she was. Until he grew to look more and more like his father, the man who had broken her heart.

She could barely look at him, the boy she loved, that only served to remind her of what she hated about her life. She wasn’t a good enough mother, he was the reason she was forced to scrape to get by. She couldn’t help but tell herself those things. And she couldn’t help but tell him in fits of anger.

When he was 8 and devoid of all the pretty baby fat of youth, Rowena was caught and about to be tried for her crimes as a witch. Before that could happen, she left her son in the care of a workhouse, unable to keep him with her. She told herself she would be back, but she had nothing to offer him, and he was a painful thing to look at. The personification of a wound never closed. At a certain point she knew that she had been gone too long and made up every reason she could to justify it.

She found the opportunity to study under the great Milanese witch Leticia D’Albioni, and soon after that she finally joined the ranks of the Grand Coven. The Grand Coven were critical of Rowena having a child with a “non-magic”, but they were willing to overlook this because of the great talent she possessed. However, her immense raw skill and recklessness with extreme witchcraft made them wary of her. This eventually led to her being hexed by the coven with a binding spell that restrained her magic, as well as being banned from performing magic, taking on students, or forming her own coven.

Rowena didn’t stop using her then limited powers when possible, still stronger than many witches, but she did fear the Grand Coven and their worldwide reach for centuries. She stayed off their radar as much as possible, learning where she could, and managing to take care of herself in other ways when necessary. She’d dodge the occasional run in with other witches, demons, hunters, The British Men of Letters.

300 years later, Rowena resurfaced, recently run out of the UK by a member of the British men of Letters. And with a goal in mind, intending to reclaim her lost power and start a coven of her own to do so.

It wasn’t until she learned that her son, who should have long been gone and forgotten, was reborn as the demon Crowley and King of Hell, that she was set on a new vicious path.

She reinserted herself into Fergus’ life. (Refusing to call him by his newer chosen name, though she would never explain to him what the name meant to her.) Rowena attempted to use her son for his position of power to help her with the Grand Coven. Aware of her manipulations, her son assisted anyway and captured the head of the Grand Coven, Olivette, for her. Tortured by Rowena, Olivette revealed the Grand Coven was much-diminished in its power because of a concerted campaign against witches by the Men of Letters. After learning this Rowena sought again to put together her own coven, something far greater than what the Grand Coven was, though she was met with either disinterest or thwarted plans. Still, she remained by her sons side in hopes that his power would be useful to her.

This led to frequently recurring encounters with the Winchester brothers and those that surround them. Sometimes on opposite sides, sometimes as allies.

See here for further detailed information.

☽〇☾ — POST SEASON 15 EPISODE 3

Rowena expected to die and have her body eventually deteriorate and release the souls that she carried with her, back to hell where they belonged. Instead she found herself dead, but with an incredible amount of power stored within her from the souls that she absorbed. As she arrived in Hell by her own choice, Rowena is able to take control of Hell’s throne through the use of her still in tact magical abilities, and fear.

She is a powerful soul inhabiting her own body, though technically still dead, and has never become a demon.

As ruler, she immediately shut down all demon deals and overhauled hell to work the way that she wanted it to. Her opinion is that humans do plenty of things to put themselves in Hell, no need to assist the process. People will end up where the ought to.

☽〇☾ — CURRENT

Since her arrival in Lebanon, Kansas, and once again a member of the living, Rowena has returned to reside in the Men of Letters bunker with the Winchester brothers.

#☽〇☾ — Rowena MacLeod #☽〇☾ — character bio #long post cw

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greenjudy · 3 years

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Inquisitor Ask Meme

Reposting this for fun.

Anyone else want to take a crack? What kind of Inky would you be?

@allsortsoflicorice? @tyramir ? Bueller?

1. Race:

Human.

2. Class/Specialization:

Rift mage.

3. Your homeland?

The Free Marches. Wycome, to be precise.

4. Your family?

Keep my family out of this; they have things to do besides die.

5. Who were you before?

A Circle Mage of some skill and much fear. Given my personality, the Circle would probably not cater to my strengths. It would make me more nervous and paranoid than I already am. The Inquisition would force me out of my comfort zone and give me some resilience I would never otherwise develop. Left to my own devices, I’d fall prey to obsession, and possibly possession by a Pride demon.

6. Would you be religious?

I’ve read a lot of books by Brother Genitivi and Philliam! A Bard; I’m actually using my clout as Inquisitor to gather whatever is known about the Black City. You might say I’m an originist, I want to know where we came from; Andraste is kind of late on the scene for my interests.

Post-Trespasser, this quest will more or less eat my brain.

Short answer: obsessed with “religious” subject matter, not religious per se.

7. Do you have a mabari?

Nope. But I spoil Cullen’s baby.

8. Your opinion on other races?

Raised to “not be racist” (as far as that goes) in cosmopolitan, edgy, free-wheeling Wycome; family with a ton of Dwarven trading connections. Angry about the elves. Knew loads of elven enchanters in the Circle, but I have awkward awareness of human privilege around the Dalish.

Fascinated by the Shaperate. Wish all Thedas had those. Can you imagine?

Worried about the Qun, but deeply impressed with the handful of Qunari I’ve met in person. Not mindless drones at all. Disciplined. Community first has some virtues, must say.

9. What would Varric’s nickname for you be?

Baffler.

10. What would your tarot card look like?

The High Priestess: an older, abbess-looking chick standing at a scriptorium, surrounded by magical paraphrenalia and a gorgeous view out my high window. Raven (with message) standing on the windowsill.

11. Where would you hang out in Skyhold?

My bespoke mage tower, if I’m not in the Undercroft picking Dagna’s brain. Do a little weeding in the herb garden from time to time; we’re growing some fascinating things in there.

After Solas leaves, I’d go spend time in the destroyed holding cells, watching the water fall.

12. What would you do for fun?

Study. Knit. Paint. Visit my horses; the smell of horses is very comforting.

I’d have highly technical arguments with Dorian and spend a lot, a lot, a lot of time talking to Solas.

13. What armor would you wear?

Cutting-edge tactical enchanted fabric. Light, layered, tweedy, enchanted.

I’d probably get sucked into magical materials research, specifically, making improvements to armor base-layers. I’m obsessed with armor. I have a whole research group (headed by Dagna, Cullen consulting) devoted to armor improvement.

14. What would your room look like?

Given the state of my current room, a chaotic mess of books, papers, research tools, letters from colleagues, blueprints, schematics, dirty dishes, orchids, and automata (Josie and I would be doll-geeks together).

15. Who would be your friends at Skyhold?

I try to make sure that the Inner Circle understands how much I appreciate them as a general rule.

As for friends:

Cassandra is one of the great ones. Just about the best person I know. Never met anyone so ready to acknowledge her mistakes. I’d trust her to be the next Divine.

Dorian is a dear. One of the best sounding-boards. Somebody peel that man a grape.

Cullen and Josephine are terrific advisors, couldn’t ask for better, their own problems of course, we’re all doing our best. I’d like to know Cullen better—suspect we have things, Circle things, to talk about. In another life, maybe.

I’d get on with Varric—everyone gets on with Varric, come on—but I find him ultimately very armored, hard to know. Hid his best friend, didn’t he? Never talks about the lady he loves.

Sera is actually easy to understand. Raw genius with a bow, one of the best to have along, out in the field. Not exactly my friend. So down on the Dalish. It’s her business, though. She and Dagna are adorable together. She makes Dagna happy, that’s good enough for me.

I have a bit of a GP for the Iron Bull. (He had me at “front-line bodyguard.”) Never acted on it, though.

Solas is my… see… well, see below.

16. Would you have any friends outside of the Inquisition?

I’d have the Thedas version of LinkedIn comrades in Antiva, Nevarra, and Orlais—researchers all. Plus one brilliant friend who’s a materials mage based out of Denerim, working with Sandal on woven metal enchantments; call her my “knitting buddy.”

17. Who wouldn’t you get along with?

Leliana would trouble me. Don’t like having someone this emotional and vindictive managing our intel networks. It’s bad juju, Ambassador; can’t trust her judgment, can you? And that feels like a loose end. Put us in a tight spot someday. Couldn’t we ask Varric…? No, I quite see that. Still.

I’d understand Vivienne, and try to maintain a cordial relationship because I think most of her head is in the right place, even though she is entirely too power-oriented for a real friendship.

Blackwall’s “find Darkspawn, kill them, repeat” approach would bother me. When I found out the truth about him, it would confirm my feeling that you need to lie to yourself, a lot, to just have enemies and kill them without compunction. I would also find myself highly influenced by Solas’s take on the Wardens.

18. Who would you romance?

I’m a Circle mage who’s watched close friends be tormented by romantic love. Demonic possession and Tranquility. Babies taken away. This is not the kind of conditioning that disappears just because you take me out of a Circle. In my youth I worked it out by restricting myself to impossible love objects—there was this one Templar, very stern, very disciplined…he’d barely speak to me… Well. That was many years ago.

That said, the best impossible love object I’ve ever encountered in my life is Solas.

What does it matter, really? Bonds of friendship, don’t you know; romantic love leads to envy demons. I’m old now, at any rate. Inquisigeezer not exactly a romanceable character.

19. Would you do pranks with Sera?

Probably not. Too busy. Too tired. Feel too much sympathy for her innocent victims.

But I would do operations with Sera, with pleasure.

20. Would you sleep with the Iron Bull (casually if not romance)?

My front-line bodyguard? Get on with you. It would get too complicated—for me, I mean, not him.

21. Would you keep Cole around?

Yes. And I’d agonize about what would be the best path for him to take, and probably make him a spirit.

22. Can you play the game (politics)?

Yes. I’m better at it the more distant it is. If you’re talking about what to say at a party, I’ve developed a persona for that sort of thing. Stakes are high. Can’t be fooling around. A mage, remember? This guard drops, I get possessed; lose my temper, might incinerate you, can’t have that.

23. What would be on your tombstone in the fade (What are you afraid of)?

“The world fell apart on my watch.”

24. Who would you recruit to seal the breach?

Mages. I understand mages. Their leadership’s been simply awful. Not sure what Fiona did with her spine. Without decent leadership, it’s mages running amok, trying to protect themselves, doing awful things out of fear; can’t have that, they’ll pull their own house down. Get them out of the weeds, stick ‘em in the Inquisition, give them a chance to show what they can do for the right cause.

25. Opinion on Mages versus Templars?

It’s all about training, though, isn’t it? Templars and mages both need much, much better training. Without training, without a penetrating education with a solid grasp of magical theory, history, ethics—co-train the mages and templars, make ‘em take core courses together. Make them work together in strike teams; I’ve been doing that since we recruited ‘em, they actually partner well, as long as you’re not, you know, mad.

I would become obsessed (do you see the recurrence of this word) with the idea that mages could be Seeker-trained to resist possession and mind control, obviating the need for Tranquility. These disciplined (another key word) and trustworthy mages could be placed in a position of joint authority with properly educated Templars to create a College of Magi with research cells all over Thedas…

Yeah. We’ll see how that works out.

26. Who would be put in charge of Orlais and why?

Celine and Briala. Celine is the one with the right temperament, and for some reason I viscerally understand Briala. I’m all about reparations and integrating elven populations and something something protect the Dalish (can’t we actually give them the Dirth?).

27. Would you sacrifice the Chargers?

I couldn’t.

28. Would you go after Blackwall?

Oh, yes. And I’d keep him on, as Thom Rainier.

29. Would you drink from the well?

Knowing me? Not knowing the implications except for those vague warnings? Yes, I would, and it would affect me for the rest of my life.

I’d spend what’s left of myself using whatever insight and connections the Well gave me to work on Solas.

30. Where would you go if the Inquisition was disbanded?

Under ordinary circumstances, the College. Daresay they’d want me to do something draining and administrative because of my being the (ex)Inquisitor; I’d look for a research niche but probably not get to keep it.

Solas is not ordinary circumstances. I’d dedicate the rest of my life to that problem.

31. How do you react to the egg telling you he is an elven god?

I’d naively and arrogantly imagine that I could—if we could just get enough time to sit down together—he must understand what he’s likely to bring about, he needs people to talk to, dammit—

He would be the death of me, I’m afraid.

#DA:I

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

Text

The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing.

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident.

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal.

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer.

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her.

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see.

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets.

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer.

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man.

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her.

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces.

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance.

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances.

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical.

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door.

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets.

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her.

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her.

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him.

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited.

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone.

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head.

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there.

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body.

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it.

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances.

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her.

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other.

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her.

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her.

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement.

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked.

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn’t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half.

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable.

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do.

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less.

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder.

#scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #sits #voltage games #voltage fanfic #voltage smut

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Finding Home

a fic about @asocial-nebula‘s demons and angels AU!!!!

i’m sorry it’s kinda short. i had to use my mom’s Adderall today and that’s only, like, 20mg, so it doesn’t last as long. plus it’s the evening so it’s mainly worn off, but i really wanted to write something for this AU!!!

also, Nikola, i am so sorry if things are inaccurate. is Hell an underground cave system? does it have animals? running water? blankets???? i don’t know. i am very, very sorry if it’s inaccurate. i tried. but still!! i hope you enjoy!!!

Word count: 2281

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

Joan remembered the first time she disappointed the House of Pride. And everyone else around her.

It was still morning and Hell’s caverns were as hot as always. Joan had wiggled out of her cave and glided down to the craggy pavilion where a female demon with cold eyes and large cinnamon colored wings stood. She hissed for attention and Joan, along with the others around her, straightened up.

“This hunt is for the head of the House himself.” The demon had said. “The first one to bring back a Magma Pig will get a spot next to him at dinner this evening.”

Joan perked up. That was exactly what her poor reputation needed, so she had been one of the first to shoot off from the pavilion after the word was given.

She wasn’t the best flier, especially because of searing back pain from the strain of her big wings on her little body, but she pushed through the screaming of her aching muscles this one time.

She flapped through the tunnels, barely dodging pillars of rocks and pointy stalagmites that seemed to be doing everything in their power to knock her out of the air. She spun through two reaching rock shelves and broke out into a large cave where a glowing pink waterfall flowed from a crevice in the wall, drifting into a winding river. Steam rose from the surface; everything down in the caverns seemed to be boiling hot. The sultry heat made her wingbeats sluggish and her scales feel like they were melting off, but she shook them out and scanned the cave.

There!

A Magma Pig was drinking by the river. She was huge, with fiery red pelt and streaks of gold that glowed like active lava. Her tucks were long and wickedly sharp, and she would definitely put up a fight, but Joan would win.

Joan flexed her claws, flashing her fangs in a smirk. She could already hear all the praise she would get when she brought back such a big swine. Her tail began to wag excitedly. She spread her wings and swooped--

But something stopped her mid-dive.

Piglets. Baby Magma Pigs.

There were three in total, and they frolicked out of a crack in the wall, grunting and squealing blissfully. Two began to playfight, while the other hobbled over to its mother and headbutted her leg affectionately. The mom made a loving noise, nuzzling the baby’s cheek, then submerged her snout back into the water for another drink.

Joan’s claws lost their slack. She hovered in the air, unable to bring herself to kill the family. What would the babies do without their mama? They would die!

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” A voice suddenly boomed across the cavern. A large demon with orange-gold wings came zipping out of one of the tunnels, followed by two others. “Are you a demon or an angel? Kill that pig!”

Joan floundered, nearly falling right out of the air. The orange-winged demon sneered in disgust and shoved past her roughly. She spun down to the cave floor and hit a rock roughly.

“Wait--” She shouted, but one of the other demons already dove down and snatched the pig up, slicing her throat. The other one managed to grab two piglets and snap their necks, while the last one got away through a hole in the wall.

The baby was alone. It was going to die.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” The orange-winged demon asked. “No kill could be easier! Are you really that stunted and useless?”

“I-I--” Joan pulled her wings around her like she thought they would protect her.

“I bet she was worried about the little baby pigs.” The demon that had killed the mother said, landing with a thump and a splattering of pig blood. “She didn’t want to leave them all alone with no mommy to take care of them. The poor wittle furballs.” Her voice was mocking and cruel.

“No!” Joan cried. “That isn’t it! I-I was going to kill it! I-I just--”

“Save it.” The orange-winged demon hissed. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’re pathetic.”

Joan had stared miserably at her feet. That day, she knew her treatment would only worsen, especially when the news of her failure got to the rest of the House of Pride. And it did.

For as long as she could remember, she was not like the other demons that prowled around Hell. They were all strong and big and powerful and knew what they were doing at all times. She was the exact opposite, it seemed, with her too big wings and too small body and too bright eyes. She wasn’t enough, ever. No matter how much she sharpened her claws on rocks or filed her teeth to points with bones or perfected her magic, her attempts always blew up in her face--literally, sometimes.

She was just--messed up. And she didn’t know how to fix herself.

The other demons saw her a mockery to their race. A waste of magic and scales. Their harassment became a ritual of sorts, a daily cycle of let’s stomp on Joan’s tail and let’s leave Joan stranded up on the tallest cliff because her wings were too weak and too big for her to properly fly and let’s dunk Joan into the scalding pools until she starts to drown and let’s rake our claws down Joan’s stomach again and again and again until she squeals like a stuck pig beneath our talons. It never ended.

And then, Cathy entered her life.

Cathy was like a rope ladder dropped from heaven--and in a way, she was. She was a fallen angel, banished from the ethereal world for reasons Joan didn’t know. But even with her new horns and darkened scleras and black wings, she was still an angel in Joan’s eyes.

Cathy had saved her from a particularly painful beating from a trio of demons. She thought they would have ripped her tail right out of her back if Cathy hadn’t come along and scared them off with very rude threats and mighty wingbeats and slashing claws. They didn’t speak to each other, rather just exchanged looks before Cathy walked away silently, but Joan felt a connecting between the two of them.

So she started following Cathy around. She was like a duckling of sorts, always somewhere near Cathy, whether the fallen angel liked it or not. A silent bond was created--at least on Joan’s part. She felt safe and happy around Cathy, even if they barely interacted. Being near her was enough.

But of course, like every good thing in her life, Cathy was taken away.

One day, Cathy just--disappeared. Joan looked everywhere, searching every nook and cranny in Hell, but couldn’t find a trace of the fallen angel. All that she had left of her were the things in her cave, which she started staying in to retain a shred of that connection they had. Cathy’s scent on ragged blue blankets were the only thing that kept her calm during anxiety attacks. She liked to pretend the covers were actually Cathy’s wings swaddling her and holding her close, protecting her from everything, no matter how different she was. And Cathy would be there when she looked up, smiling lovingly down at her, telling her how wonderful she was and how much she cared about her. Sure, Cathy never said that before or made any indications that she thought that way, but it was her fantasies that kept her going.

The abuse from other demons started back up shortly after that. Shoving, biting, scratching, vicious maiming that left her bloody and bruised--it all seemed so much worse than it did before. Perhaps because of what her attackers would say, telling her that Cathy left because of her, that she couldn’t stand being around such a pathetic waste of space, that she would rather die than be around her for one more second, that she ran off into the human world because facing the dangers there would be better than having to be with her.

The last comment sparked something in Joan’s head mid-beating. If Cathy wasn’t in Hell, then she was somewhere else.

After a year of Cathy being missing, Joan set off to the portal to the mortal realm.

Everyone said not to go in there. Everyone said they wouldn’t make it out alive, but Joan still went anyway. All she brought with her was Cathy’s blue blanket, as the fallen angel’s scent would keep her going when she wanted to lay down and die.

And she did.

A lot.

The pits leading to the portal were worse than everyone said. They were dark, for one, and so tight in some places that Joan got stuck for several terrifying moments. There were also.../things/ down there. Awful things with sharp claws and hundreds of eyes and gnashing teeth. One that Joan encountered was pale white and wrinkly. It crawled across the cave walls and ceiling, only jumping down to cling to Joan’s back and shred her wings. She just barely managed to shake it off right as it was going to pull out her spine.

There was also something very big and very red and very scary. It broke Joan’s ribs to pieces when its tail swung into her chest. For a few moments, she stopped breathing, then splayed her claws and stuck them into the monster’s eyes. It screeched and left her alone. For now.

By the time Joan finally got to the portal, she could only crawl, much too weak to stand up. Her chest was so bruised it looked black, she was bleeding all over, one of her horns was broken, her tail was bent at an abnormal position, and she couldn’t even feel her wings anymore. In fact, she wasn’t feeling a lot of things...the pain was starting to go away…

Joan collapsed into a pool of her own blood and began to weep. Everything hurt so badly. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if she just laid here for a little while… She didn’t even have to go through the portal because when she looked up, Cathy was there, smiling at her and saying sweet things to her. Her ears were too clogged with blood to actually hear her, but she was sure they were the nicest, most loving comments ever.

Joan reached out to Cathy, and Cathy disappeared.

Only her blanket was there, so stained with blood there was only a single splotch of blue left. But Cathy’s scent still lingered.

Joan had to get up.

She crawled the rest of the way to the portal, clutching Cathy’s blanket to her chest. She leaned against the onyx mantle, breathing harshly. She stared into the swirling white mass before her, so bright it made her eyes prickle in discomfort.

“Cathy…” She mumbled, feeling very dizzy. She wanted to rest. She was so tired… “Wait...for me...Cathy… I’m...I’m coming…”

Then, she reached out and touched the portal.

There were flashes of bright white and blinding silver. Joan screamed into the light, feeling like she was being burned alive. Her little body shook with violent tremors, then began to tingle intensely.

Was she dying? Was the portal really a trap to fry demons? Was this all a trick?

Would she never see Cathy again?

Joan opened her eyes to a clear blue sky. She was laying half in green grass that wasn’t completely charred and half in water that didn’t feel like it was going to boil her. Noises sounded all around her- distant talking, far away laughing children, croaking frogs, chirping birds.

She was here.

The mortal world.

She made it.

And when she looked up, she saw her.

Cathy.

She didn’t have her wings and horns and tail, and her eyes looked normal, but it was Cathy.

“Cathy--” Joan staggered to her feet. She nearly blacked out, but clung to consciousness, which felt much weaker than it did in Hell, and began dragging her agony-infected body forward.

“Cathy, Cathy, Cathy, Cathy…” Joan mumbled over and over again. She clutched the bloody blanket close to her chest. What if Cathy got mad that she got it messy? Maybe she should go back to the pond and wash it really quickly… No, she had to see Cathy first.

Weird. Cathy seemed so happy with those humans around her. Weren’t humans disgusting and weak and useless? Why did that one in the green shirt kiss her cheek like that? And was that Jane? She remembered that she had gone missing, too. She looked different as well. Did the humans do something to them? They must have cut off their wings and tail. She had to save Cathy!!

Joan tried to run, but her knees buckled and white hot agony rocketed through her entire being. She whimpered sharply.

“Cathy, please-- I need--you--”

One of the humans, one with short brown hair, turned its head in her direction and shouted something in shock. The others all looked over and had the same reaction. But Joan was only looking at Cathy.

She dropped the blanket and reached out her shaking hands.

“Cathy…”

And then, the ground rushed up to meet her; she was back in the grass. Everything was starting to fade into darkness. She began to cry. She didn’t want to die. Not without Cathy holding her.

But the blackness was closing in. She was so weak and everything hurt so much and she was just so tired…

The last thing she remembers was someone yelling her name, then everything cut out.

She hoped Cathy wouldn’t be mad about the blanket.

#six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #catherine parr #joan on the keys #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #jane seymour #finding home

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

Text

Shackled Chapter 10

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME.

Warning: Show level violence, implied loss of family, grieving, depression, spiraling, cursing, mentions of Demon!Dean, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery, psychological manipulation, questioning one’s sanity, emotional exhaustion, suicide attempt, mention of previous suicide attempt.

Word Count: 3165

Author’s Note: Please read the warnings. PLEASE read the warnings. Thanks to @cracksinthewalls for the mega beta. Also, please read the warnings.

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

In case you missed it: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 Masterlist

Chapter 10

Miriam didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the bedside, staring at the gun clenched in her nerveless fingers. How did she get here? She'd been standing in front of Dean, reeling from the terrible truths he’d forced her to face, and then she found herself here.

In the unfamiliar, anachronistic setting of her room in the bunker, no sound except the barest whisper of the air system, Miriam was blurry and out of focus. She couldn’t feel the bed beneath her legs, the freezing floor under her feet.

Was she even awake?

Doesn’t matter, she thought. Everything he’d said was true. He had seen right through every one of her denials and shattered all of her self-crafted delusions. She had failed everyone and everything of consequence to her. At this point, it no longer mattered how or why. She had nothing left but the pain.

She took in a slow, shaking breath through her nose, let it out through her mouth.

Setting him free was out of the question. She wasn’t going to beg him, compromise the last shred of self she had left making a devil’s bargain, and he knew it. Dean was right. She had one choice left to make, one more chance to get it right.

One way out.

She stood, legs moving of their own accord, and crossed the small room. She rested the gun on the rim of the sink, staring down at her fingers as they gripped the cold metal. One more breath, in then out, and she looked up into the mirror.

Aaron’s face looked sorrowfully back at her. She drank him in, the rip of his loss tearing deeper. Her empty hand traced the lines of his forehead, his cheekbones, the nose their family had inherited from generations back on her mother’s side. When she met his gaze, she saw tears in his eyes as he raised his palm, and she pressed her hand to the image of his.

Her mind flashed back suddenly, and she was standing not in the bunker but in the rundown motel room she and Aaron had rented for that last hunt. She’d come back two weeks after his funeral with the desperate idea that she could find something he might have imprinted on, some object holding his spirit so she could conjure him, tell him to his face she knew how badly she’d messed up.

That she was sorry.

She’d stared into the mirror for hours, and he had stared right back, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t really her brother. The despair had swelled, risen to a crescendo, and she’d raised the gun, placed it to her temple, gone so far as to cock her weapon. She stood, shaking, staring in the mirror until her nerves and her hand failed her.

When the sun rose the next day, she unloaded her gun, shoved it to the bottom of her duffel, and didn’t look at it again until nearly a year later when Sam Winchester called in her blood debt.

Failure upon failure.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her own face was wet, cold, but she kept her hand pressed to the glass. “I love you.” Then Aaron was gone, and she was left in the empty room, her stricken reflection gazing back at her. Alone.

Yeah, that makes sense, she thought. One last breath, in then out. I can do this. One last chance to get it right.

She raised the gun.

Before she could draw back the hammer, a hand shot across her field of vision, closing around her wrist and pulling her around. The gun fell from her grip as she reflexively shoved at her attacker. She jerked to the side, her lips drawing back in a desperate snarl, and struck with her free hand again.

“Miriam, stop! It’s me!”

Sam’s frantic voice reached her through a storm of anguish, and she stilled in his grasp. He kept his hold on her forearm, his face flushed with confusion and dismay. They stared at each other, panting, for a long, loaded pause before Sam finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Maybe he was apologizing for leaving so much out before asking this of her. Maybe he was apologizing for asking this of her at all. Maybe he was expressing empathy at her whole situation. Whatever the reason, Miriam’s heart began to calm at his words. Her expression must have relaxed because Sam’s shoulders slumped as he let out a breath and released her arm.

“I called to check in before the priest started his ritual, and your phone went straight to voicemail. I got back here as fast as I could. What-”

Miriam drew back her fist, catching Sam across his cheek, snapping his face to the side. She felt this punch like she hadn’t felt any of the times she hit Dean, and it shocked her arm all the way up to her shoulder. It hurt like hell, and she felt relief spreading through her abdomen.

“We need to talk.”

Sam straightened and turned back to her, his face comically stunned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before clamping his lips shut. His eyes clenched shut, and he sucked in a steadying breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand. Then he opened his eyes and gave her a tense, tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah. We do. Hungry?”

…

Neither of them knew the best place to start, so, as they began assembling some sandwiches, Miriam simply began updating Sam on everything that had gone down since his departure. She figured there wasn’t much point in hiding anything that had happened; Dean would probably tell Sam anyway, if for no other reason than to get under both their respective skins.

Recalling the order of events was difficult, she realized, and when she added up how little time had actually passed, she was shocked.

It felt like at least a week, she thought.

Sam managed to hold his tongue through her entire recounting, though his face had gone through the full spectrum of reds and purples when she’d told him about the nightmares. When she got to her very last encounter with his brother, Sam nearly cut off his finger along with the cheese he was slicing.

The choking noise coming from his mouth didn’t do anything to alleviate her concern.

After he caught his breath and chugged down the glass of water Miriam provided, he and Miriam moved over to the long table, sitting side by side. Miriam didn’t know about Sam, but she didn’t particularly feel like making eye contact with the younger Winchester just now, even if his coloring was gradually returning to normal.

Though both of them needed the fuel, neither Sam nor Miriam seemed particularly inclined to eat.

“Your turn,” Miriam said, unable to stand yet another bout of long, uncomfortable silence. “You left me with zero clue and almost as little prep. What the hell, Sam, you and I are supposed to be the smart ones. What’s going on with Dean? This ritual?”

Sam’s eyebrows lowered, and he straightened, all set to put her off or argue, but he was cut off by the slam of her fist on the table. Their plates clanged, jittering dangerously close to the edge.

“Dammit, Sam, my life is literally on the line here! I don’t care about your bruised pride, I don’t care about your stupid secrets. You called me here, you exposed me to that demon with barely any warning at all. Tell me the truth, and don’t you dare try to bullshit me.”

She watched the wind drain from Sam’s metaphorical sails. His shoulders slumped as he propped his forehead up in his good hand.

“You’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. Let me just...Okay, yeah. But it’s gotta be a summarized version, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

He offered her a fragile half-smile, and though she didn’t return it, she relented enough to drop her scowl.

“A while back, Dean got something called the Mark of Cain. Yes, the mark on his arm, and yes, the Cain. From the Bible. Long story very, very short. It ate away at him. Made him want, need to hurt, to kill. There was this old weapon, the First Blade, and we needed it to end this huge threat. And then…He...Dean died. I brought him back here, carried him…”

His voice trailed off, his lips working hard as his neck and shoulders tensed. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Miriam reached out, tentatively laying her hand on his arm. He huffed out a sharp breath and continued.

“And then he came back, but as a demon. He took off with...another demon, and they were gone for weeks. I hunted him, I never gave up on him. I...did some really terrible-”

Sam stopped, his lips pressed together so hard they turned white. He steeled himself and looked over, meeting Miriam’s eyes for the first time since they’d started talking.

“I did what I had to, to get my brother back, and I will keep doing exactly that.”

There wasn’t much she could argue against that. She would have preferred more details about exactly what terrible things Sam had done, but Sam’s transgressions were irrelevant to their current situation. He would have to face his own consequences eventually, and her getting the dirty gossip now was not priority.

“So that mark on Dean’s arm more or less turned him into a demon,” Miriam asked, not sure what else to say.

Sam nodded, picking at the crust of his bread. “It was changing him even before he died, but it brought him back. I’m not sure it will actually let him die,” he added.

“And the ritual? How’d you even find out about it?”

Sam looked down at his plate again and sighed. “Okay, again, summary. We needed to cure a demon in order to complete a trial.” He held up a hand to forestall Miriam’s question, and she sighed.

“I told you, here all night. I don’t have that kind of energy right now. Anyway, we found out the Men of Letters had created a ritual to cure a demon without damaging the host body. I had to find a hospital with the right kind of priest, get the blood blessed. There’s a spell, and I have to inject Dean with the blood. It’s not the most pleasant way to spend a weekend, but it’s my only shot to get my brother back now.”

Sam let out his breath, rolling both of his shoulders back with a painful popping noise. He glanced over at Miriam again, chewing on the inside of his lip as if he were struggling with a decision.

“Miriam, I’m sorry. For all of it. I knew about Aaron, I should have thought…I just...It’s Dean, my brother. People are hurt because of me. I hurt...tortured. I tortured a lot of demons, but I had to. I couldn’t-”

“I get it, Sam. I get all of it, even leaving the admittedly big details out. I’m not happy about it,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him. He had the decency to look properly embarrassed. “And you’d damned well better not leave something that vital out again. But, then again, it’s not like I was one hundred percent honest with you, either. If I had been at all smart, I could have told you I was in no shape.”

“How are you now?” he asked. “How are you really?”

“I’m...here,” she answered. “Dean really got into my head, like you said he would, but all that mess was there to begin with. He just...he knew how to stir it all up, knew exactly what to say to get me to react how he wanted. And I did.”

They sat for several moments, lost in the memories of their own transgressions. Sam finally let out a breath and stood. He rested his fingertips on the table, his injured arm fidgeting in the sling. His jaw clenched, tension in every line of his rigid stance.

“Miriam, I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve only done this once before, and it definitely started to work then, but I didn’t get to finish the ritual. I already gave Dean the first dose before I came to find you, and he reacted differently than I was expecting. It’s going to take several more doses, but...look, I know I have no right to ask anything else of you…”

He trailed off, lips trembling as he pinched them shut. His eyes were shining suddenly, red-rimmed and small, and he looked terribly vulnerable. He glanced up at the ceiling, clearing his throat. Miriam’s heart twisted, and she stood, reaching out to lay her hand on his shoulder.

“We can back each other up,” she said, adding, “but I can’t be alone with him again.”

Sam shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. She continued.

“You need to know I wasn’t magically fixed when you stopped me firing that gun, Sam. I haven’t changed my mind. You need help, and that much I can do, as long as you’ve got my back. But after this, I’m done. With everything.”

Sam’s face was stricken as his fingers tightened around hers. “Miriam, you can’t-”

“It’s not your call, Sam. I’m not your brother; it’s not up to you to fix me.”

Sam flinched as if she’d struck him physically, but she didn’t relent, and eventually, he nodded, though reluctantly. She released his shoulder and busied herself clearing up the food neither of them had been able to stomach after all.

Time to face the music, she thought randomly. At Sam’s questioning glance, she nodded and followed him from the kitchen. They stopped just outside the dungeon, and Sam raised his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure? After what you and he...you don’t have to go in here. I can…”

“You don’t know exactly what this treatment is doing to him, you said it yourself,” she reminded him. “You’re here now, he’ll have to split his focus. We’re stronger together. Let’s get this over with.”

Sam nodded, steeled himself, and stepped inside. Miriam followed suit; the moment she stepped through the door, though, she could feel a slight but palpable difference. The pull to go to Dean was diminished. The hunger she had to admit she still felt when she looked at him was duller, less fierce.

The demon in question also seemed a little more subdued, a little more cautious. Dean straightened from his tired slump, green eyes narrowing at the two of them. He frowned, evincing disapproval as he clicked his tongue at Miriam.

“You know, when I didn’t hear a gunshot, I thought maybe you’d just found a quieter way to do it. Figured somebody couldn’t possibly be that big a failure at absolutely everything, but here you are.”

Sam busied himself pulling a huge, blood-filled syringe from a cooler on the table as Dean continued to eye Miriam. She picked up the remaining flask from the table, making a mental note to ask Sam if he had more holy water stashed somewhere in the bunker. She unscrewed the cap and turned to face Dean.

“Or maybe you just need another push,” Dean said quietly. His eyebrows lowered as he smiled straight at her, leaning forward earnestly. “I could scratch that itch all day. Get rid of Sammy, here, and we can-”

She flicked the holy water in his face, and Sam went in with the needle as Dean flinched back. Her heart stuttered as Dean cursed and growled in pain, his breath coming in short, distressed bursts. His skin flushed, darker than the last time she’d splashed him. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he thrashed against the ropes, his tendons standing out harshly under his flesh.

“Sam…” Miriam started, but she didn’t know what warning she should give. The draw she felt from Dean was definitely less now, so the blood was doing something to the demon aspect of him. Dean didn’t look like he was being cured of anything, though.

He looked like he needed help.

“I don’t know what else to do but keep going,” Sam whispered, half to himself.

“You could start by letting me out of these goddamn cuffs,” Dean groaned, his head rolling back as he struggled to catch his breath. “You’re killin’ me here, Sammy.”

Sam started towards Dean, but Miriam grabbed his arm. He turned tortured eyes on her, but she shook her head, urging him silently towards the door. Dean might be genuinely in distress, but if what Sam told her was true, they couldn't do anything to help him except continue the treatment.

Sam resisted for one more heartbeat before allowing himself to be led from the dungeon. Miriam resolutely shut the door behind them and turned to Sam.

“You did it. We did it. Now we’ve just got to do it another half dozen times or so.”

Sam snorted, running a shaking hand up his face and back through his hair. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What now?” she asked. A yawn escaped her before she could stuff it down, and Sam paused, taking in her drooping frame and exhausted stance.

“I think somebody could use a nap,” he said with a tired smile. She raised her eyebrow sharply, and he held up his hand in mock surrender. “I know, I know, we both do. We’ll take it in turns. I’ll stay up while you sleep, then swap out.”

She hesitated, torn between the aching exhaustion wearing her down and the fear of what always came when she slept.

“Sam, I don’t want to ask this of you, but I…I already had nightmares, and since I came here, they’ve gotten worse. Could you...god, I feel so pathetic asking, but could you sit with me? Not on the bed or anything creepy, and I get it if you need to prep something else for Dean’s treatment, but…”

She stopped, breathed, and forced the words past the lump in her throat. “I need to not be alone right now.”

If Sam had done anything but nod and take her hand, Miriam was pretty sure she would have disintegrated from shame. Instead, he simply led the way back to her room and pulled a chair up beside the head of the bed.

He sat silently, eyes downcast as she splashed water on her face and let her hair down. Miriam kicked off her shoes with growing anxiety, but when she lay down on top of the covers and closed her eyes, she felt Sam’s rough, warm hand closed over her own.

“I get it, Miri. I’ve got your back.”

She fell straight into a dead sleep, and for the first time in a year, she didn’t have a single dream.

…

Chapter 11

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talesfromunderland · 4 years

Text

An Instinct.

As much as the old Clave liked to glorify and encourage it, violence was violence and not a soul can escape it’s clutches unshed.

But Ty couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Even if when he closed his eyes and saw only their faces, he couldn’t regret it if it went the young man besides him got to live.

The Battle for Alicante turned out to be bloodier than expected. They all knew The Cohort had wanted to surprise them, try to wound their pride and lay their trap. And while the Clave-In-Exile’s pride was wounded, they never let their guard down. The Cohort was pretty surprised by the sheer number that came, Shadowhunter and Downworlders alike. But it hadn’t been enough. Even with their numbers, The Cohort had the advantage of knowing the terrain and the viciousness that if they were to lose they were taking everyone with them.

It had all gone to the seven hells after that.

Ty had arrived at the worst of it. When the first volunteers came, he stayed in the shadows, out of sight and out of thought. It’d filled him with shame every time someone stood while he stayed in place, feeling like the coward he was. Shadowhunters were supposed to have no fear, to be better and stronger, and the reason he was ashamed was because he knew that those things weren't true. It came from choices, not from ones blood. And Ty had chosen to hide. Like a coward.

He'd never made any plans to come. The nose, the smell of blood... after the last battle, when breathing became hard and he had nearly gotten Mark killed, Ty hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near it again and he knew that no matter what he did, he would be a liability, useless.

So he wouldn’t go. Simple.

But he had gotten a feeling, stronger than a hunch, like a sixth sense, that had unwillingly pulled him from the shadows just as a message asking for backup arrived.

He followed it, toward the portal, down to the bloodbath he encountered. Bodies littred the once beautiful streets, worse than the Dark War. As impossible as it sounded, he briefly wondered if had being suck to one of Dru’s favorite movies, only very real and loud. Immediately, the desire to turn back and run nearly overwhelmed him.

he turned on his heel, to yelled at someone for help-

When he saw him.

It seemed whether destiny, angels or anything divine up there, really had a cruel sense of humor.

The last time he’d seen him, his hair had been long. Ty had suggested he cut it to something more shadowhunter. It seemed Zara had taken the matters to her own hands.

She’d stood over Kit’s prone form as if he were a trophy, using a seraph blade as if it were a damn razor blade, cutting off his blond curls and mixing it with the blood that lay at their feet. Ty could only see her back yet he could feel her mocking laugh, when more blood spilled from his scalp, when she kicked Kit and spat on his body.

For a moment, Ty stood there, frozen. Time didn’t seem real; he didn’t the seconds, that felt like hours, pass. He was only conscious of his every breath, of his beating heart, of the boy that lay at doors death by the hands of the most pathetic woman in existence.

And of the rage. The blindly, consuming feeling that overtook him and snapped something deep and forgotten.

He hadn't thought, hadn’t expected it. He couldn't explain it at all, like pure instinct, all happening too fast, following it more than willingly.

One minute, he was watching Zara Dearborn a second from murdering Kit, bodies and hundreds of people fighting on his way.

The next, he was in front of her, one hand holding her arm while the other buried his blade deep in her heart.

He would never forget the choking the came from her throat. The widening of her eyes as they meet his, as he twisted the blade deeper, a rage like never he felt before coursing through him.

One minute, she had been about to kill Kit Herondale.

The next, she was laying dead on a growing pool of blood.

He’d wondered why none of her allies were defending her, and only then turned to see that they only laid dead among them, bodies Ty had cut down on his way to Zara.

Afterward, he couldn’t stop getting sick.

It was this thoughts, that scene, that raced through his head as he stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows the fan made in the quiet. So much blood laid in his hands, he killed demons before and had foolishly believe this would be no different. Maybe he had known the truth all along and had tricked himself in believing otherwise as to not accept it.

The human mind really was the strangest of things.

He leaned over his chair and took a deep breath, willing it to fill his lungs until they ached, distracting himself from anything else. There's no one there, thankfully. Hours earlier, the room of the Silent City had been filled with some many people, Ty had found it beyond difficult to breathe but he had refused to leave on more than one occasion.

Shadowhunters and Downworlders, mostly friends others not, had come and gone already during the day, watching Kit’s battered form, some with tears pricking their eyes, others with cool detachment, before making their way to Tessa and Jem to give their condolences. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Carstairs-Grays permitted them to be there, Ty would had thrown them all out. Taking their pitying or interested gazes away from Kit, away from the boy that had giving so much and received so little without complain. He deserved more respect than that.

Ty sighed and turned to the boy on the bed, cringing internally at the many, many injuries.

Looking at Kit had become too painful but he refused to flinch or look away, just like Jem and Tessa. The swollen had worsen, taking his entire face to an ugly shade of purple. A big, thick scar ran from the corner of his forehead to the bottom of his chin, a thing that if it weren’t for the runes, would had left him both without an eye and a nose. Had such being the case, Kit would had probably joked and said something about looking like Tyrion Lannister, and start moaning at the lost of his beauty

Ty smiled, opened his mouth to voice it aloud when he remembered.

When he brought Kit to the Silent City, almost everyone agreed that it was likely too late, he lost too much blood, the brain had also swollen, and there were too many broken bones. They would heal him as best as they could but they shouldn’t bother to hope. It may had been too late.

That’d been two weeks ago. They all waited now.

And waited.

And despaired.

Mina didn’t know her brother could never return home.

@tiberiusblackthot just like I promised!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write it, my life as being a mess for the last couple of months and I have only gotten back to writing recently. I hope this is something close to what you had in mind!

Tagging: @oopstheregoesthatlifeofmine, @alma-berry, @sherlockedkit, @shadowhunterbooklover1, @samnherondale, @james-the-duck-king, @lost-in-fictionn and @dru-and-ash

#kitty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tda #the dark artifices #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #twp #the wicked powers #mine #fanfic #i think this a little weird?#I didn't know how to finish it so I left it as if it were the first part of two and who knows? maybe they'll be one.#yeah definitely not my favorite but I couldn't come up with anything else.#kit x ty

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nocturne-inuyasha-ff · 4 years

Text

Chapter Twenty One: Fated Encounter

Author's Notes: Greetings and sorry for the late update. Busy, busy, busy! Working in healthcare just doesn't leave time for much of anything these days, but I've been writing little by little. Fun fact! My chapter titles are all song titles (or lyrics, rarely) that inspired the chapter! Some have words, some don't, but they all give me motivation.

Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Happy reading!

Nocturne - Chapter Twenty One: Fated Encounter

Rated - M (for suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, and coarse language)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

He would not follow the mother of his child as she disappeared inside the manor. The time for reconciliation had come and gone. The woman claimed to understand the necessity behind his frequent excursions, yet acted another way entirely. She compounded the situation by blaming him for granting her countless years on top of her paltry mortal few.

Sesshomaru had laid the offer bare to her and she had accepted enthusiastically. He was not to blame that she was unable to infer the duplicitous meaning.

He would not allow her to place guilt onto him. Not even her tears could sway him this time. Yet, the woman was as ephemeral as the sea. Crying one moment and becoming stoic with suppressed anger the next.

Sensing her emotions was child's play. The miko wore them on her sleeve and even when she attempted to veil her feelings, Sesshomaru could sense them broiling just below the surface.

He knew that her distress which had morphed to anger was genuine. The miko would come to accept what had happened and eventually she would thank him. Besides, he had not wanted to instill her with false hope. There was no guarantee the ningyo would work.

Until then, Kagome lashed out as best she could. Her announcement to travel to the village where his brother resided did not resonate with Sesshomaru. It was too far from the Western Lands to effectively guard which left her and Setsuna's safety in the hands of his hanyo brother.

Inuyasha seemed capable enough. The half breed had managed to get this far in life despite the attempts of many enemies to put an end to him, Sesshomaru not included as he had not put his entire efforts into the deed. That, alone, did not ease Sesshomaru's worries.

Then, there was also the carnal part of him that wanted to rip his brother limb from limb for ever touching his woman, even before he could call her his own. Sesshomaru banished the thought from his mind before he sought Kagome out and forbade her from leaving. He knew that would not go over well, recalling a time in the past where he had made that same mistake and the weeks it took for the woman to come back after laughing and leaving anyway.

While it chafed his pride to watch her leave, it may be for the best. Sesshomaru had not yet disclosed to Kagome that the rumors he was investigating were true after all. The past few months there had been sightings of strangers with silver hair skulking about. He knew this was not a coincidence or fabricated tales and now it was only a matter of time before their enemy struck.

The ones who had been sent were scouts, conditioned to probe the enemy for weakness and breaks in the line. Sesshomaru had mounted a rigid detail to patrol the borders and ensure that none made it through. That was easier said than done. It was improbable to expect a scout not to slip through since the whole premise of scouting was to move around undetected by the enemy.

The time for leisure had come to an end just as quickly as it had begun. Sesshomaru would allow his woman this small victory. She could go to the village with their child. Let her think she was punishing him. For the moment, until he could deal with the threat, she was better off away from the manor.

o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o

Kagome flew out to the village on the back of Rei with Setsuna tucked in front. The small nekomata had flourished in Kagome's care and was her close companion when Sesshomaru was not around. He didn't care for Rei much, being a feline and all, but he did well tolerating the nekomata for her sake.

Despite not being able to transform into his larger form when they first met, Rei was perfectly capable of doing so now and Kagome knew that he was much larger than his mother had been. She would sometimes wonder how big he would have gotten had he not been the runt of the litter. Regardless, REI was a wonderful companion to both her and Setsuna.

The trip only took a couple of hours and when they landed in the village, Sango was already outside with a hand shading her eyes and waving them in.

Rei dropped them off near the house of the taijiya and monk, he made a loud roar before transforming back into his smaller form. Kagome thanked him as he rubbed against her legs with a pur. He quickly ran inside the house, likely looking for the children to play with. He popped out just as quickly once he realized the house was empty and made a beeline east. Rei sometimes seemed more like a puppy than a nekomata. His ubiquitous nature was an odd but cherished quirk.

Setsuna ran over to Sango and wrapped her small arms around the woman's waist. "Sango! Look at how big I've gotten!"

Sango laughed and squeezed the girl back before pushing her away and squatting to be eye level. "My, but you have grown since I've seen you last. You are nearly as tall as little Hiro who is 3 years your senior."

"Ha!" Setsuna yelled triumphantly. "I knew it! Is he inside?"

Sango chuckled. "You'll find him with his sisters down in the training yard."

Setsuna immediately turned and ran off in the direction of the training fields towards the outskirts of the village. Since Kohaku had brought new taijiya, the village had all but transformed from a simple farming town into a thriving demon slayer haven.

It was much different than its predecessor, who's people were reclusive and secretive of their craft. Many of the new recruits were people who had been slaying demons on their own for some time, looking to hone their skills or make a life with people of similar interests.

Kohaku and Sango took responsibility for training newcomers, some even who had been born and raised in the village. What made things truly interesting was the mixing of Miroku's spiritual training. There were a few people who had talents for both slaying and latent spiritual powers. Miroku and Sango's children were prime examples. All four had inherited Miroku's abilities, but only the twins had an interest in combining that skill with their mother's slayer training.

Those who were skilled in both were renowned and held in high regard by their peers. Outside of the twins, there was only a handful of older people who had sought the village out for training in both respects.

Kagome considered the village almost over prepared if any yokai were to make the mistake of attacking. "Things seem to be going well here," she said looking around.

People were coming and going about their chores, a number dressed in slayer gear either coming from or going to training.

"It's good to see you, Kagome. It has been too long." Sango pulled her friend into a brief embrace.

"Not that long," Kagome said.

Sango gave a friendly scoff. "A year is a long time, my friend."

"Has it really been that long?" Kagome questioned.

"A little longer, I'm afraid. But, come, let's go inside for some tea. I've only just come from training a bunch of youngsters and I am sorely in need of a break."

They walked inside and Sango prepared tea while they chatted to catch up.

"Kagome, you seem...troubled. what is it?" Sango asked. She passed a cup over to Kagome and began to pour from the kettle.

It felt selfish to unload her personal troubles on her friend after so much time spent away. "Let's save my troubles for later. They are not going anywhere." She gave her friend a beaming smile. "Tell me about you and everyone else. How are you?"

Sango sighed with contentment. "Busy." She took a long sip from her cup, continuing only after she relished the taste of her tea. "But some things have happened since the last time you visited."

"Oh?" Kagome leaned in, her interest piqued by Sango's expression.

"Well, you already knew that Inuyasha had taken Keyuri as a mate."

Kagome withheld a grimace. It was hypocritical on her part, but she had a hard time imagining her former love with anyone else. A selfish, darker part of herself wanted him to remain alone, but she made sure to shove that thought deep, deep down. "Yes, and it took him long enough."

"Keyuri could not be rushed into that. She needed time to heal from her internal wounds. I honestly think she needed more time." Sango nearly chided her friend.

Kagome did not know Keyuri as well as Sango, having not spent nearly as much time with her. She figured that if Sango liked her enough to defend her, she must not be that bad. Keyuri must be great if she could put up with Inuyasha.

Kagome warmed at the thought. "So, then what is different?"

Sango squealed with glee. "I'm going to be an aunt!" She said breathlessly. "It finally happened!"

Kagome grinned from ear to ear. "Really?! That's amazing!"

She and Sesshomaru had been invited to Rin and Kohakus wedding a couple of years ago. Their pairing was expected; at least by Kagome and Sango who had seen the couple making eyes at each other when they thought no one was looking. Sesshomaru, on the other hand, had taken the news as well as he could. He reacted indifferently and Kagome had to take him aside to question why he couldn't be happy for the children he had protected years ago.

He'd told her that he was as happy as one could be for mortals who were binding their lives together impulsively. Kagome had laughed at him and he gave her a cold stare. The daiyokai viewed Rin as a daughter, it was clear, and no man was good enough for her. Even one he had commended and lauded with as much praise as could he expected from Sesshomaru was not up to par.

Sesshomaru would never voice his opinion aloud to Rin, nor even Kagome, but she knew the truth. Ultimately, he had come to accept Rin and Kohaku's decision to wed, even gifting Rin with an elaborate shiromuku for her wedding day.

Kagome wondered how Sesshomaru would react to the idea of Setsuna marrying in the years ahead. Hopefully with more grace than he had mustered for Rin, but Kagome knew that was a lofty dream.

"How far along is she?" Kagome asked. She had given her friend a congratulatory hug and was genuinely excited to learn of Rin's pregnancy. Kagome knew she would make an excellent mother.

Sango put a finger to her chin in thought. "I'd say by the rise of the next full moon. Not long now."

Kagome tried to recall what it was like to be in the late stages of pregnancy, but was instead assaulted with spotty, but intense and horrible memories. She pushed them back down along with her ridiculous jealousy into the dark depths of her subconscious, hopefully never to rise again unbidden.

"That's great. I can't wait to see her." Kagome thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should stay to help with the delivery," she considered.

Sango gave her a strange look. "Stay? For over a month?"

"Yes," Kagome answered carefully. Sango was still regarding her strangely. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What's the real reason you've come, Kagome?" Sango demanded in a level tone. "Over the past few years your visits have tapered off to barely an annual nod to our existence."

Kagome opened her mouth to speak but Sango held up a hand to indicate she was not done. "I understand being Lady of the West is a time consuming honor and I am not displeased with your unannounced visit, but you have never stayed beyond a week and even then not without Sesshomaru coming to drag you back after a few days."

All that Sango stated was true and Kagome felt twinges of guilt for allowing her new life to get in the way of her old one. Maintaining her friendships had dropped to the wayside of maintaining her family.

Sango now gave Kagome a small, knowing smile. "Trouble in paradise? Can't keep up with daiyokai needs?"

Kagome's cheeks flamed to hear Sangos insinuation. She moved around uncomfortably, looking at her skirts and picking away non existent specks of dust. "No," she responded sullenly. "Nothing quite so incenduoise."

A grin formed on Sangos face. The woman knew she'd struck close to home. "Then what could possibly be so bad that would make you run off and hide away for over a month? That's some punishment you are doling out."

Kagome forgot her embarrassment and her cheeks burned for a different reason. She crossed her arms and set her jaw. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

Sango's earlier smug appearance switched to a confused one as she watched Kagome get up and rummage through utensils until she gave a satisfied sound and drew up a small knife. "What are you doing with that?" Sango asked with concern.

Kagome held out her left palm to Sango and then casually took the blade and drew it against her flesh. Sango gasped when she saw blood run freely from the fresh wound. Kagome winced at the pain but held her palm out to her friend.

"Are you crazy?!" Sango hissed. She jumped up and swatted the knife from Kagome's hand. It rattled to the floor and Sango snatched up Kagome's left wrist to examine the wound on her palm. "You idiot, you've severed your tendon!"

Kagome tried to close her palm, but was unable to do so. She'd pulled the knife down too hard and injured herself more than she'd intended. Admittedly, injuring one's self wasn't as simple as she'd thought and had overdone it. Oh well, she thought. It shouldn't matter.

Sango drug Kagome by the wrist to find something to clean the wound with. "I can't believe you would injure yourself! And to prove what?! Your descent into madness? Just because you live among demons does not mean you will gain immunity to mortality by association!" She chided while wetting a cloth with one hand.

Kagome could already feel the pain ease up and let out a sigh of relief. For a moment she worried she had gone crazy and her experience from hours earlier was a fluke.

With more angry mutterings Sango took the wet cloth and began to clean the wound. She carefully blotted around the edges to clean away the blood. As she did her brow drew together in disbelief.

"What in the kamis name?" Sango questioned aloud and took the cloth straight to the wound, rubbing away now dried blood. There was nothing there. No wound or even an indication of injury on Kagome's palm.

Kagome pulled her wrist from Sango's grasp. "Now you see why I am angry!" She said.

"What?" Sango replied in confusion. "You just healed. How?"

"I was given ningyo. Without my knowledge!" Kagome said angrily. "Because apparently I'm too human for certain daiyokai."

Sango's mouth was slightly agape but she quickly found words to fill the void. "Kagome...ningyo? Are you certain? That particular yokai...if its flesh is consumed...it is rumored that if one dares to do so, they will be granted eternal life." She continued to look at Kagome almost in awe.

"Please don't look at me like that," she told Sango. The woman quickly cleared her throat and looked away at anything else in the room. Kagome felt like a sideshow freak, as if she'd spouted an extra arm, but she knew she didn't look any different than before.

"Sorry," Sango responded. "I-I didn't realize that the flesh of a ningyo would also grant someone the ability to heal, either." Sango chanced a look at her friend. "I think it's best if you didn't tell anyone else about this," she cautioned.

Kagome pursed her lips. "Why's that?"

"Well, the reason more people aren't out hunting ningyo, looking for an extended lease on life, is because of the curse that surrounds it. You seem to have bypassed that somehow, or rather Sesshomaru did on your behalf, but others are not so fortunate. If people learn that you are now…," she paused as she searched for an appropriate word, "...blessed with eternal life and a healing factor akin to a yokai's…?"

"They would be filled with insane jealousy?" Kagome guessed.

"They would probably try to consume your flesh to access your new gift," Sango said gravely.

Kagome's eyes widened in horror. "That wouldn't work! Would it?"

"It certainly wouldn't stop the desperate fools from trying."

Kagome stood up and paced the room. She'd never considered the cost of eternal life. But Sesshomaru must have. He would not have risked her life to grant her eternal youth. He was too calculated for that. She took some comfort in the thought and decided to place her worries aside for the time being.

Kagome stopped pacing and looked down at her friend. "Then I'm glad you're the one I told, Sango, but I'm still mad at him."

Sango gave a harsh laugh. "You're mad at him for extending your years to match his own? What about Setsuna? Now you can be with your child too, well into adulthood. Wasn't your mortality something you dreaded?"

Why did the woman have to be right? Kagome wondered. "That's not the point."

"Then what's the point, my friend?" Sango asked with humor.

"The point is that he lied to me! He told me he would be with me no matter what and he didn't even have to worry about that because he'd already let me eat a mermaid!" Kagome spewed angrily. "He had no skin in the game."

"Can you blame him?" Sango asked.

Kagome felt offended. "Blame him? You're kidding right?"

"Would you not have done the same if the situations were reversed?"

"I would have asked!" Kagome responded defensively.

"Maybe there's a reason he didn't. Maybe he wanted to be sure that you wanted him and not the promise of eternal life." Sango used her hand, pointing her finger for emphasis. "Look, I'm not trying to defend him. I'm definitely not saying he was right, all I'm saying is that there's probably more to it."

Kagome glowered at Sango. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," Sango asserted, her head cocking to the side. "I am happy and oddly perturbed at the same time, but as your friend, I also want you to think about this rationally."

Kagome sighed. It didn't seem as though Sango would commiserate right now. "Fine," she acquiesced. "But he still needs to learn that keeping things from me is wrong! So, I will be staying until Rin has her baby, if not longer. Plus, it will be good for Setsuna to enjoy the company of humans."

Sango chuckled. "If he's anything like Miroku, anything longer than a week will he torture."

"Good god woman, is the lecherous monk's appetite never satiated?" Kagome joked.

"I had thought after all these years he would settle down, but the man still hounds me daily. I couldn't tell you how many headaches I've had to feign to get a full night's rest."

Kagome felt her anger ease and her mood lifted with their friendly banter. The pair sighed in contentment and continued to share their wifely plights. It was good to be away in a change of scenery. This was something they all needed from time to time, a reprieve.

"Mother?" Setsuna called hesitantly into the house.

Kagome turned to the sound of her daughter's voice. The young girl looked confused and she rubbed her nose with one hand and holding up the screen with her other. Her white ears on top of her head twitched back and forth.

Setsuna stayed on the peripheral of the entryway, neither in nor out. She looked around outside, answering her mother without looking. "I smell something funny."

"What's that, love?" Kagome questioned. Her daughter was usually quite boisterous when excited, reserving a more serious side for when serious matters were at play, like her father's lectures. To see Setsuna so quiet and uncertain was worrisome.

"I don't know," she said softly. Her ears continued to swivel in order to pick up different sounds that only she could hear. "But it smells...wrong," she said.

Sango gave Kagome a questioning look, mouthing the words 'What's wrong?' Which she only received a shake of the head and shrug as a response.

"Come inside, Setsuna. You'll let all manner of insects in while you linger in the doorway," Kagome told her.

The young girl stayed put, looking over her shoulder, oblivious to her mother's words. Kagome hurried over to look outside as well. There was nothing as she peeked outside and she could not smell nor hear anything unusual. The only difference was a feeling of foreboding.

"Sango?" Kagome solicited, concern evident in her voice.

The taijiya had already pushed the pair aside and went out to give a proper investigation. Nothing untoward was taking place to the naked eye. Villagers could be seen coming and going about chores and errands and the noise of their movements and chatter could be vaguely heard, but something was different that none could quite put their finger on. "I see nothing," Sango said. "There are always strange sights and smells here in the village, little one," she consoled the rigid girl.

"No," Setsuna replied, "it's not that."

Sango grabbed Setsuna's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Just the other day, Rin attempted to cook and there was the most horrible smell that permeated throughout the village." Her attempt to write off Setsuna's strange behavior was met with little resistance. Setsuna finally looked at her and her mother and smiled.

"I don't hear any birds. That's what it is. Maybe they were scared away by the smell, right mother?" she asked.

Kagome had a strange feeling, but did not want her daughter to worry over nothing. "Maybe they smelled you," she teased.

Setsuna laughed and ran inside, her earlier behavior forgotten.

Kagome followed her in and Sango stood outside, giving the lane by her house one last look around to ensure nothing strange was around. Once she confirmed all was well, she came inside as well.

"So, what brings you back so soon?" Kagome asked.

She pouted, thrusting her bottom lip out in an obvious fashion, and crossed her arms dramatically. "They won't let me play. They said it's unfair because I'm faster and I'm a gooder smeller."

Sango sighed with annoyance. "Was it Hiro?"

"No, but he didn't say anything either. He's just jealous cuz I'm stronger than he is. But it was- it was a girl." Setsuna looked frustrated and and on the edge of tears. "She was mean and said I couldn't play with them and called me a half breed….Mother," she paused and turned her large, wavering eyes to Kagome, "what's a half breed?"

Kagome instantly felt rage swell in her chest. She'd done a damned good job at shielding Setsuna from people who would treat her child differently. Kagome knew she should have prepared Setsuna better for the cruelty of the outside world, but it was easy to forget that there were biggoted individuals out there when you lived in a bubble of protection. "Half yokai and half human, love," she answered as gently as she could. "You know that your father and I are different. 'Half breed' is just a mean way of saying it."

"Don't let her words bother you, some people do not know how to appreciate the differences of others," Kagome assuaged. "If Hiro and the others are your friends, they won't care what that girl has to say."

Setsuna contemplated those words, trying to comprehend as best as a five-year old could. "Father would have punished them," she replied sullenly.

Kagome felt the urge to throttle someone right now, but the child offender wasn't the best choice, so she settled for being angry at Sesshomaru. "What good would that do?"

"Make them stop," Sestuna said, her little nose wrinkling.

"No, it would make them fear you." Kagome pulled the girl into her lap. "Fear only goes so far. Love and respect go so much farther."

Setsuna looked up at her mother, leaning against her chest. "I don't understand."

Sango chuckled, all too familiar with childhhood antics, bullying, and the like. "It means that you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"You grownups don't make any sense," Setsuna groaned.

"Let's go see if we can talk to this girl. What's her name?" Kagome inquired. She rose, pulling Setsuna with her.

"Stupid-Mei," she supplied with a smirk.

Kagome rolled her eyes and tugged Setsuna along, pulling her outside. "Setsuna!" she chided. "I'd ask what your father would say, but I'm afraid to hear your answer! We don't use that word: studpid."

Sango followed along, wanting to deal with the issue so that the behavior did not spill over into other matters. She wore a discreet and knowing smile as she followed.

Kagome made her way to the outskirts of the village where she knew the local children played after they had finished training. Setsuna walked with her head held high the entire way, acting as if Kagome would give the offending child a sound lashing. Once they'd gotten nearly half way, Setsuna stopped dead in her tracks.

"Don't stall, even if you're having second thoughts," Kagome warned.

Setsuna stood stock still and her eyes seemed far away. "I smell it again, mother."

She was already on edge from earlier and now Kagome felt her heart begin to pound. She watched as Setsuna began to look around wildly. There it was, out of the corner of her eye. Movement.

Sango ran in front of the pair, her right arm splayed out in a protective manner, and the other at her side where she kept a blade hidden. She'd seen it, too.

"What is it?" Kagome asked.

"We're being watched," Sango replied, nodding towards the side of a house.

Kagome could see nothing, but trusted her friend's instincts and her daughter's heightened senses. Sango crept slowly and with the grace of one trained not to make a noise towards the back side of a house where Setsuna had glued her eyes. The taijiya had pulled her hidden blade out, brandishing it before her and put her back up against the house, ready to surprise the suspected interlopper.

"What the fuck are you doing, Sango?!" a gruff, angry voice bellowed. The telltale red robe and white hair indicating Inuyasha appeared from around the corner and he looked angry at having a knife pulled on him.

Sango looked guiltily down at her knife before tucking it back in her hidden pocket. "Oh, Inuyasha? Sorry, we...uh...we heard something."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "We?"

Setsuna broke from her strange trance. "Uncle Inuyasha!" she cried and sprinted towards the unsuspecting hanyo, jumping into his unsuspecting arms.

A large grin replaced his grimace and he lifted her up into the air. "Well if it isn't the runt?" he teased. "Bring your mom with ya?"

Kagome hurried over and pulled Setsuna from Inuyasha's grasp. "Please don't call her that."

"What? Runt?" he teased with a smug look. Inuyasha touseled Setsuna's hair and knelt down in front of her. "She is." He defended against the girls small, but fierce punches. "Barely taller than me on my knees, this one."

"This is serious, Inuyasha!" Kagome chided. Leave it to him to make light of a situation when it did not call for it. She crossed her arms and took in a steadying breath.

"Keh, woman. You worry too much," he waved her off. He stood and looked over his shoulder before he was overcome with the look of a lovesick puppy. Inuyasha held out a hand and it was taken by the delicately clawed one of Keyuri.

The hanyo woman looked around hesitantly, but gave a small, secret smile once she spotted Sango. Her eyes became more apprehensive though when she caught sight of Kagome.

Setsuna grinned and squealed with happiness before pulling Keyuri into a hug. "Aunt Keyuri!"

The quiet woman flipped her long hair behind her shoulder and knelt down to look at Setsuna. She motioned with her hands, pointing at Setsuna and Kagome, and then placed her hands over her heart, smiling and tilting her head. Keyuri was a vision of loveliness, her silver hair was soft and long, her smile like a breath of spring, accenting her golden eyes.

Inuyasha looked down at her with a lovesick expression that Kagome found oddly sweet. He used to look at Kagome with that expression and despite feeling jealous just earlier, Seeing them together was not as unbearable as she had thought.

"Inuyasha?"

He looked up to see an ungainly Rin, hand on her belly, ambling towards them. Her face seemed twisted with confusion. Once she caught sight of Kagome and Setsuna, though, a smile broke out, and she waved.

"Kagome? Is that you? It's been so long!" Rin called out.

Kagome hurried over to the heavily pregnant woman, and they hugged as best as possible to compensate for her large belly. "Oh, Rin, I can't believe you are going to be a mother!"

"Yes, it still hasn't quite sunk in yet, no matter how big I get!"

"It won't seem real until you hold that tiny babe in your arms; even then, it can seem like a dream," Kagome answered.

"While I'm happy to see you, I'm a bit confused," Rin admitted. She looked back at Inuyasha.

"What do you mean?" Sango asked, walking up to them.

"I just could have sworn I had seen Inuyasha a few moments ago back at the training arena. It was the most unusual thing."

"What are you talking about, woman?" Inuyasha demanded. "We just got here, Keyuri and me."

Rin seemed perplexed. "Right. I, uh, must be seeing things. I thought you looked different, and you were dressed differently, too."

Sango took up Rin's hands. "Would you like to sit down? Maybe the weather is getting to you?"

"I am fine," Rin assured. "It must have been the light playing tricks on my eyes." She shielded the sun from her eyes as emphasis, but everyone looked at her with concern.

Kagome thought it was too much of a coincidence to let slide. "Inuyasha, perhaps you could join me in taking a look?"

"Keh. Why would I do that? I'm busy," he growled in annoyance.

Infuriating as always, Kagome thought and set her jaw. "Please," she said through clenched teeth. "I would feel better if I knew it was nothing. Plus, Setsuna was acting strange."

Inuyasha looked down at the girl who was now conversing with Rin and grimaced. "Fine. Let's make it quick." He most assuredly remembered the events from five years back that had brought Keyuri to him and nearly taken Setsuna from her. Even though it had been much too quiet, he had to know that the underlying threat was still there just waiting for an opportune moment.

They walked silently towards the training arena with Inuyasha leading the way. Kagome knew how to get there, but the man tromped forward on a mission to get this endeavor over with as swiftly as possible.

Kagome ran her forefinger and thumb down the arrow string, ensuring her weapon was present and ready. She rarely went out without the bow. Just the thought of getting caught unprepared was a fear she did not want to face.

The area known as the training arena was more of a field than anything. The grass had been tamped down flat from constant use. There were dummies placed in a line along the north edge of the field where trainees could practice weaponry or combat moves. Many of them were missing their straw heads or limbs, showing the wear and tear. The arena was currently bare of any people, the day was nearing evening time, and most of the trainees and instructors had returned home for supper and rest from a long day spent preparing for an unknown threat.

Kagome looked around and saw nothing. Just the gentle swaying of distant branches as the wind passed through them. She looked towards Inuyasha, who had jumped over to the edge of the training arena. He looked back at Kagome and threw up his arms angrily, implying there was nothing to be found.

Perhaps it had been nothing, Kagome thought. Children were known to see things and hear things that were not there. Their innocent imaginations were always at play, causing them to confuse fantasy with reality. Kagome wanted to believe that was the case, but she knew deep down that Setsuna was no ordinary child who would have such notions.

Inuyasha's ears twitched back and forth on his head. Kagome glanced over and noticed that he'd frozen in place, similarly to how Setsuna had stopped in her tracks. He threw his hand to his side and grasped at air. Kagome realized that he hadn't brought Tessaiga with him. Why would he have cause to need it here where all was safe?

He growled and turned, wielding the only weapon he had on him. His claws were at ready and no less deadly, but they put Inuyasha at a disadvantage if a foe attacked with a weapon.

"Fucking coward! Bring your sniveling ass out here and face me!" He snarled.

Kagome had already drawn her bow the moment she saw Inuyasha reach for the missing sword. She looked around wildly, not seeing anything, but feeling something amiss.

Answering Inuyasha's call, a figure emerged from beyond the tree line. Kagome could no longer see Inuyasha's face, but she could only assume he wore an expression of disbelief that would match hers. A white-haired inu hanyo stalked towards them with a wicked grin plastered on his face, exposing long and deadly canines. This could be Inuyasha's twin if it weren't for long scars cutting down his cheekbones under each eye. The symmetry of the scars could only mean they were not coincidental and placed there by design. The scars looked angry and fresh, which could only mean that they were replaced each time the hanyo would heal.

"The fuck?" Inuyasha grunted. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

The hanyo chuckled and crossed his arms beneath his chest, and his chin rose as his head smugly cocked to the side. He wore no weapons nor any armor, just simple clothing that could only be labeled as inconspicuous. "They told me to keep my head low, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the famed Inuyasha," he admitted.

"Keh. Should listen to your betters, huh?" Inuyasha challenged. His claws flexed menacingly by his sides. "Or you just too fucking stupid?"

The hanyo just scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'm just excited to meet you finally. Heard so much about what a badass you were." He started laughing with mirth, holding his sides. "I'm sorry, I can't-I can't…" he continued to laugh, taking deep breaths," can't keep a fucking straight face."

Inuyasha released a scoff of his own. "The fuck is this shit?" He gestured to the hanyo, who was bent over laughing.

Kagome looked from one hanyo to the next, her arrow trained on the stranger. Her tiny motion brought attention to her.

"Ya gotta be fucking kidding me?!" He yelled with glee. "The damn miko, too?"

Inuyasha glanced over his shoulder towards her. "I'm the one you gotta worry about, kid," he warned, drawing the hanyo attention back to him. "Whatdya want? Aside from a swift death?"

The hanyo whistled through his teeth. "Hnn." He splayed his legs apart and bent over to place a hand on the ground, looking as if he were readying to take off in a sprint. "Gotta catch me first, old man," he said darkly.

Her fingers ached to be free of the bowstring, and Kagome wasn't quite sure why she'd held on so long. This was not a friend to be reasoned with. She knew exactly what this was...a threat to be dealt with accordingly, and time was not on her side. Kagome loosed the arrow and watched as it flew to its target. She'd practiced frequently, as much to blow of worried stress as to keep in top form.

The hanyo looked up at her and smiled, seemingly amused at her attempt to incapacitate him. Kagome felt her pulse quicken, the adrenaline pumping through her veins at full speed the second she realized she had missed. Rather, the hanyo had moved, avoiding the spiritual arrow and fixing her with a nasty leer.

He leaped into the air and landed on top of Kagome, knocking her to the ground and the air from her chest. "Father will be pleased to learn that his miko has left the safety of her nest," he whispered into her ear. The rancid stench of his breath, coupled with the way he used the words 'his Miko', caused her to shudder despite herself.

The hanyo's grin never left his face even as he was lifted bodily off her with a roar and tossed away. Inuyasha stood over her in a protective stance. "Touch her again, and you'll lose the fucking hand!" He shouted.

The man had skidded several feet away and laughed at Inuyasha's threat. "Gotta catch me first, old man," he said before rocketing off.

"Old man?!" Inuyasha shouted in disbelief. He bolted off after the hanyo, growling loudly and leaving Kagome on her rear in the fields of the training arena.

She moved to her knees and stopped when movement registered at the corner of her eye. Kagome's head snapped up, and she saw two figures watching her from a distance. While she couldn't make out their features, the silver sheen of hair was unmistakable. Her heart dropped even as they disappeared into the trees. So they had been watching, she discerned. But For how long?

----------

Chapter on Dokuga

#Chapter Twenty One #SessKag #Sesshomaru #Kagome #Inuyasha #Fanfic

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evil-overlord-scriptology · 4 years

Text

But I Don’t Want to be a Sensei! Pt 3 (ARCHIVED)

Chapters 11, 12, & 13

Chapter 11: Training, Yanagi-Style!

Demon of the Mist. Master of the silent killing technique.

So why didn't he kill silently?

Why did he make his presence known and draw me into a long battle instead of killing Tazuna before any of us could suspect something.

Tazuna went off on the little brat, but Naruto ignored him by exclaiming that people were hiding around in the bushes all around us. I was about to hit him for being stupid when I felt a surge of chakra behind me.

Naruto seemed to follow my instincts and aimed another kunai knife at the spot I felt the chakra surge. Tazuna smacked Naruto upside the head and the brat and drunk had yet another yelling match while I went to investigate. Just below the kunai that Naruto had thrown a white rabbit was having a heart attack.

A white snow rabbit.

Curse my cursed damn luck. The karma demons must really loath me.

I stepped away from Naruto's sobbing apologies to casually inspect the clearing, searching for chakra signatures. I wasn't a very good sensory nin, most of it was just pure natural skill since I had spent most of my training on my sharingan and attacks, so I wouldn't be able to sense anyone who was suppressing their chakra at a jounin level.

Considering that I couldn't sense anyone meant that my suspicions were right and our next attacker was a jounin skilled opponent.

I hadn't been able to sense Zabuza until he wanted me to.

So why did he want me to?

And that kid with him, he was also able to suppress his chakra enough that I didn't sense him until he felt like it too.

Why?

Why didn't the false hunter-nin attack me? We both knew that he could easily take me out as weak as I was. Towards the end of the fight, I had been putting on a front. That hunter-nin knew that, I could feel it in his gaze. But he only retrieved Zabuza. Did he want us to be surprised when Zabuza came back to attack us? No. That false hunter-nin would know that I'd be able to figure it out. People like Zabuza and his allies wouldn't underestimate anyone.

Zabuza was hired by Gatou, I know that. Which meant he was in it for money... or was he? Gatou would want Tazuna dead quickly, so Zabuza should have killed him quickly. Instead he went after me. That meant that Zabuza didn't care for money as much as it would seem. So why? What did Zabuza really want?

Something to do with Gatou. He had money–Zabuza could be hired by anyone else for that. He could offer protection–Zabuza didn't need it, he was capable of protecting himself and he had an ally. Gatou practically ruled over the Land of Waves–I doubted Zabuza was interested in that. Gatou had a shipping company...

“Obito-nii! You said you were going to teach me something cool! This is geography!” A younger me whined.

My older brother laughed, “Just you wait, imoto, you'll see this is cool!” I gave my brother a skeptical look. Obito often lied to me for the heck of it. Nii-san, seeing my expression, reached over to ruffle my curly hair, “That's a promise!” He said cheerfully. I automatically smiled. Whenever Obito-nii said those words, that meant whatever he was saying was true!

Turns out he was right. It was very interesting learning about rebels often hiding in secluded areas like small islands. Obito was going to teach me about smuggling too, but then Kakashi-baka-nii-san came and interrupted everything.

Rebels. Smuggling. Zabuza.

My mind recalled Zabuza's page in the Bingo Book. He attempted a coup d'état on Kiri because he disagreed with the government. It was rumored that he had joined the Mist Rebels, but it was never proven.

Could working for Gatou be a cover up?

...

“Frizzy-sensei, I know you're awake!”

“Idiot, don't yell!”

“Shut up, Teme! I know Frizzy-sensei is awake! She keeps twitching.”

“N-Naruto, p-p-plea-please q-quiet down. S-sensei is try-trying to r-r-rest.”

My eyes snapped open and I immediately glared at Naruto, “You call me that again and I'll kick your ass.” I growled threateningly. I tried to sit up and immediately groaned as my chakra system convulsed painfully causing my muscles to spasm and freeze up as well.

A woman I didn't know was by my side in an instant, “You shouldn't move.” She said in a mothering tone. I eyed her, she looked a lot like Mikoto-oba except her face was a lot plainer than my aunt's. She even acted like Mikoto. “Until you're feeling better you should just lay down.” I gave in with a sigh and laid back down. If this woman was anything like Mikoto-oba, she wouldn't take no for an answer. It'd be in my best interest to just listen to her.

“S-sensei, are you al-alright?” Hinata asked, coming to kneel beside my futon.

“Hn.” I responded with the Uchiha general answer for everything.

Naruto, of course, wasn't going to take that for an answer though, “What happened anyway, sensei? You were fine one minute and the next you were passing out! What gives?”

Sasuke bopped Naruto upside the head, “Idiot, Yanagi-itoko used too much chakra.” I gave Sasuke a strange look, since when did he call me 'itoko'?!

Tazuna spoke up from behind Hinata, “Well you did take down a powerful ninja, so I guess you've got an excuse.”

“He's not dead.” I said, turning my gaze to the ceiling.

I think everyone had a miniature heart attack.

“W-what?! What do you mean he's not dead?” Tazuna practically screeched like a girl.

I closed my eyes and struggled to sit up again. It tore at my pride that Hinata had to help me, but at least I wasn't laying down like some helpless invalid anymore, “Hunter-nins destroy the body where they make the kill. So why did that boy take Zabuza away?”

Silence permeated the air as that information sunk in.

Hinata gasped a little, “T-those needles he-he used...” She said under her breath. Everyone looked at the shy heiress and she blushed. “S-sorry!” She squeaked, ducking her head and twiddling her fingers.

I reached out and pushed her hands down, “No, what were you saying?” I asked. Now wasn't the time for shyness. If Hinata had information, then she should share it.

The girl nibbled at her lip in nervousness and, after a long silence, finally stuttered out, “W-where he h-h-h-hit... i-it was a pres-pressure p-p-poi-point... that c-ca-causes d-death if hit h-hard e-e-en-enough.” Of course Hinata would know. The Hyuuga fighting style specialized in pressure points, hitting them with chakra to cut off the chakra flow.

Sasuke stiffened, “The senbon needles. They don't have a high casualty rate.” He said, mostly to himself.

I nodded, “Exactly. Unless hitting a vital organ, senbon needles don't kill. My guess is that the hunter-nin used the pressure points on Zabuza's neck to create a temporary death. A hunter-nin is an expert in human anatomy, causing the heart to stop temporarily is child's play to them. Also, the fact that the hunter-nin we ran into took Zabuza's body away instead of taking care of him on the spot and using senbon needles for a weapon points to one fact: that boy was trying to save Peaches... not kill him.”

Tazuna tried to reason with us, “Come on, you're over thinking things!” By the tone of his voice, I could tell that Tazuna really want us to be paranoid and not right.

I gave the man a serious look, “An Uchiha does not over think things.” I said, a little more harshly than intended. Tazuna cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away. More calmly I recited a rule from the Shinobi Handbook, “The Shinobi Handbook states: 'Encountering suspicion, the ninja prepares quickly. Hesitation leads to disaster.'” I narrowed my eyes at Tazuna, daring him to comment again. I should thank Kakashi for being a ninja robot when I first met him; because of him I memorized the entire handbook by the time I was seven.

Involuntarily, of course.

I glanced at my genin to gauge their reaction. Naruto was grinning a little psychotic grin and Hinata looked extremely pale. Sasuke wasn't showing any emotion.

Naruto stood up, his hand still clenched in a fist, “Alright! Let's prepare then!”

Blinking, I looked at my dumbest student with surprise. Honestly I had expected him to start yelling about going and hunting Zabuza down, not training.

Even more surprising was when Hinata gave Naruto a look that could have been called a glare... if she wasn't blushing, “B-but Naruto, Y-yanagi-sensei is hurt!” Hinata wasn't even stuttering as much, and she was talking to Naruto! Normally she couldn't say one word completely when talking to her crush.

“Uh... Sensei?” I blinked and shook my head a little before focusing on a confused Naruto, “What's with the funny look?” The blonde asked, the dread in his voice apparent. Mildly I wondered if he though I was going to whip out another Uchiha-style training session like I did when they bothered me too much.

I smiled kindly at them, “I'm just impressed by how much all of you have grown. Especially you Naruto.” Naruto squinted at me. I grinned wider until my eyes closed, “You've grown the most.”

Should have known the praise would go straight to his head, “So you noticed, huh? Things are going to get even better, believe it!” Naruto exclaimed.

“I don't believe it!” A childish voice, not so different from Naruto's actually, shouted behind the blonde. I looked past Naruto to the doorway where a small child in green overalls stood. He glared at us from under his hat with eyes so filled with hate and... loneliness.

“Who are you!?” Naruto enunciated each word loudly, pointing an accusing finger at the kid.

Tazuna spoke before the kid could, “Ah, Inari, where have you been?” My eyes went from Tazuna to Inari, so this was the kid that would cry and cry if we hadn't taken the mission to protect Tazuna after we found out how dangerous it was.

He sure didn't seem the type.

Inari, ignoring the rest of us, ran for his grandfather, his voice suddenly happy and eager, “Welcome back, Grandpa!”

“Inari! That was very rude, these ninja helped your grandfather and brought him here safely.” The woman who I had yet been introduced to scolded. No doubt she was Inari's mother and Tazuna's daughter. Seemed to me that she wouldn't resent Konoha if Tazuna was killed.

Grandpa Drunk was a dirty blackmailer.

Tazuna waved off Inari's mother, “Ah, it's okay. I'm rude to them too.” He chuckled.

I shot him a nasty glare, “Same to you, Grandpa Drunk.” I snapped. Tazuna tried to glare at me, but he didn't hold a candle to any Uchiha. Not even Ibo.

Inari gave us all a blank look before turning to his mother, “Mom, don't you see, all these people are going to die! Gatou is going to kill them all!”

Naruto had the right idea when he yelled, “What did you say brat?!” He gave a cocky grin, “Listen up, you know what a super ninja is? Well that's me, only I'm going to be better.” Contradictory much? “I'm going to be Hokage!” Oh dear kami, not this again, “This Gatou or Blatou or whatever he's called is no match for a real hero like me!”

The brat scoffed, “There's no such thing as a real hero. You're just full of stupid ideas!” Inari snapped, looking very much like a miniature Uchiha in appalling fashion at that moment. Yeesh, talk about dramatic.

There was a brief moment of silence before Naruto started for him, “WHAT'D YOU SAY?!” Sasuke luckily leapt up to grab the blonde idiot before he could murder Inari. I almost felt sorry for my cousin for having to be so close the that blaring mouth. No doubt Sasuke would be deaf by the time he was twenty.

“If you wanna stay alive you should go back where you came from.” Inari said snobbishly then started walking away.

Finally, finally, Tazuna scolded him, somewhat, “Inari, where are you going?”

“To look at the ocean!” Inari snapped as he opened the doors and left, slamming the door behind him.

I sighed, “That boy is going to have a bad attitude when he's a teenager...” I commented to no one.

Tazuna looked at Naruto after a moment, “Sorry about that.” He said in a 'not so sorry' tone. I should know, I used it all the time.

Inari's mother took over then and shooed everyone else out of my room, saying I was still supposed to be resting. I sighed when I was alone and wondered what everyone else was up to. Not that I cared, I was just bored. I nearly cried when I realized that if Obito found out about this he was going to murder me for getting hurt! Kakashi would be right behind him. And Shisui would never let me live it down.

Still moaning about my morbid future, I closed my eyes to rest and plan ahead.

vvv

I flicked three small squares at my genin. Being ninjas, even miniature ones, all three snatched the paper out of the air without thinking. They looked at the chakra paper confused, then at me. I leaned against the tree I sat under, “That's chakra paper. When you channel your chakra into the paper it will react according to your chakra nature. For instance,” I held up a fourth slip of paper and channeled my chakra into it. The paper split in two. “That's the sign that I have Fūton nature.” I waved my hand at Sasuke, “Go, Duckass.”

My cousin gave me a small glare before concentrating on the bluish paper in his hand. As we watched the paper began to crinkle. Sasuke looked at me for explanation. I nodded once, “Seems you have a Lightning affinity. Being an Uchiha you also have Katon nature, correct?” Sasuke nodded silently. Of course he did. The Uchiha clan was born with fire affinity, no two ways about it. There was a reason why we were famous for it after all.

Naruto went ahead and channeled his chakra into his paper without my say-so. The paper cut in two, “Cool! We have the same... uh... katra nature, Sensei!” He exclaimed.

“Chakra” I stressed before mentally running through all my wind ninjutsus. I didn't have that many that were low level, and those that I did weren't really battle-oriented. Anything I taught him would be useless in the inevitable battle against Zabuza. Maybe I should start him on a higher level ninjutsu. With his large chakra stores, Naruto shouldn't be in too much danger.

But it was Naruto we were talking about.

Shaking off my dilemma for now, I nodded to Hinata for her to go. She channeled her chakra into the slip of paper and watched as it turned damp with water.

I tsked, “Well, I don't know any water ninjutsus. It goes against my fire chakra nature.” I said, feeling slightly sorry for Hinata especially with her pulling that disappointed look. She was the one who needed training the most and I couldn't help her at all. Not many people could, really. Unless... I snapped my fingers, startling my three genin, “I can teach you some stealth techniques for now, I noticed you're good at that. And I'll try to find you someone someone to teach you Suiton jutsus later.” Already my mind was going through a mental file of everyone I had seen using Suiton techniques.

All three of my genin were giving me strange looks. I raised an eyebrow in question, but I already knew what was going on in their tiny little minds. “Why... why are you being so helpful?” Sasuke finally asked.

I gave them a smirk, “What, you miss the surly sensei? Because I can easily go back into that.” Cue a quick head shake from all my precious genin. I rolled my eyes and explained, “We're going against a S-ranked criminal and his unknown ally. I was barely able to defeat Peach-boy last time-”

Naruto interrupted me before I could continue, “But that's the point!” I was mildly surprised at his outburst, “If you were unable to beat Zabuza then what makes you think we can?!” Was Naruto... admitting that he wasn't strong? “You passed out last time after that battle, and that weird guy in the mask will also be there this time, so what makes you think we're ready for that kind of-”

Being the awesome sensei that I am, I smacked him in the head with one of my crutches to shut him up.

“Didn't I just say that you're getting stronger?” I asked hotly, irritated that my rare praise wasn't warming their sorry little hearts. First time I ever praised Naruto and he was whining about not being strong enough! “Look, I wouldn't have been able to do anything during that fight if you three hadn't done something.” I think the genin were a little shell shocked.

Naruto, stupidly, tried to speak again. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him down until we were inches apart. “Look here, Obito Mini-me, you're going to shut up and learn a jutsu because if you don't that little promise you made back when we fought those chunnin will go to waste!” Naruto clammed up after that. I let him go and struggled to a stand, “Good. Now, lets start training. Sasuke, heel.”

My cousin's right eye twitched at being treated like a dog but came forward anyway. I stared at him intently, trying to figure out what jutsu I could teach him. I already knew he could to the Grand Fireball–it had been a big thing around the clan when Sasuke mastered the technique when he was seven, making him yet another prodigy.

I swear the Uchiha clan spat out either prodigies or total losers.

“Do you know the Phoenix Sage Technique?” I asked suddenly, looking down to the duckass haired boy for his answer.

Sasuke added a slight frown to his otherwise emotionless face, “Aniki says that's a Katon technique.”

“I know that. I have Katon and Fūton chakra, I can't teach you any Lightning jutsus. Yes or no, did Itachi-san or anyone else teach you the Phoenix Sage?” I said testily. Damn this little brat and his need to question everything!

Sasuke shook his head 'no'.

I grinned sadistically. “Good. Now I get to apply Uchiha-style training on you.” I said then chuckled evilly. It might have been my imagination, but Sasuke seemed to turn three shades paler than his normal pasty self. But first, “Sit, while I deal with the others.” I commanded my cousin before pushing down on his shoulder, forcing him to sit.

Naruto was over his gloom and doom attitude already, “Oh oh! Sensei, me next! Me next!” He yelled eagerly, waving his hand in the air like a child eagerly wanting to impress the teacher.

Ignoring him, I turned to Hinata. “You're training is simple to explain. Go out deep into the woods and try to sneak back here. Try to suppress both your chakra and the noise you make. If you make it back here before the boys can hear you, then you pass. Got it?” Another nod. “Shoo then.” I said, waving my hand towards her. Hinata hesitated for only a moment before disappearing.

As soon as Hinata was gone, my vision was filled with yellow and orange, “Yanagi-sensei! Teach me next! I want to learn a kickass jutsu!” I was kind of starting to miss the 'doom and gloom' Naruto...

Picking up a leaf that laid at my feet I gave it to the blonde brat, “Here.”

Naruto squinted at the leaf in confusion, “Huh?”

I picked up another leaf and held it in my right palm, “To master any Fūton jutsu, you need excellent control, even more than the control required for tree walking. Use your chakra to cut the the leaf; it'll be harder than cutting the chakra paper since you must consciously cut, not just channel chakra.” I focused my chakra to cut the leaf I was holding and did just as I told him, “Do that and I'll teach you the Wind Blade.” The Wind Blade was a B-rank jutsu. But since Naruto already knew the shadow clone jutsu, which was forbidden, I doubted he'd have too much trouble.

“WHAAT?! You said you were going to teach me a cool jutsu!”

“I will. After you learn to control your chakra better.”

“I already know how to do that! Teach me the jutsu!”

“Don't make demands, kid, or I'll do nothing. Shut up and train with your leaf.”

Naruto pouted, predictably. He crossed his arms and turned his nose into the air like a child. Rolling my eyes I leaned over and pinched his nose between my index finger and thumb. Naruto screeched and tried to swat me off, but I didn't let go, “Look, if you don't learn this then you'll never get any of the wind jutsus I'm going to teach you.” A complete lie, but what's a little white lie if Naruto never found out about it? I let go of Naruto's nose and straightened up, “Unless you want to be defenseless when Zabuza comes back, I suggest you don't question my methods. Get to work.”

Before Naruto could say another word, I grabbed Sasuke by his ridiculous Uchiha collar and bodily dragged him away, ignoring all his protests along the way. I only let go when we reached a clearing well enough away from Naruto and made Sasuke sit again.

I sat down across from him, staring intently at my cousin. There was a long moment of silence as we stared at each other. Eventually Sasuke wilted under my gaze and shifted nervously. Finally he looked away.

Quickly before he knew what was happening, I shunshined further away and made the appropriate hand signs, “Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!” I intoned and several fireballs flew towards Sasuke.

My cousin's eyes widened as the fireballs roared towards him. I watched in amusement as he dodged the first five before creating a Grand Fireball to cancel out the last of my jutsu. When the fire died away, Sasuke was glaring at me. I smirked and did the same hand signs, “Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!”

Repeat.

By the time I did the third Phoenix Sage jutsu, Sasuke was pissed. He snatched a kunai from his weapons pouch and charged me. I laughed at his puny attempts to attack and backflipped away. “Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!”

“Katon: Grand Fireball Jutsu!”

I shunshined behind Sasuke to avoid his fireball and recreated the hand signs, “Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!” Sasuke turned around, his eyes wide and filled with horror as he saw the several mini fireballs flying towards him. There was no way he could avoid them in time. I watched passively as Sasuke managed to dodge the first and second fireball. The third skimmed his right forearm, making the brat cry out in agony. He leapt away from the others, getting out of the fire zone and crouching down to cradle his injured arm.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” He shouted at me. I was impressed that he wasn't crying from the burn. The Phoenix Sage Jutsu was hot enough that if the fire grazed you, it would result in a second degree burn. When Obito first taught me the jutsu I was bawling my eyes out when I got burned.

Instead of answering his question, I started making the hand signs again. Sasuke, finally catching on, leapt away. I kept following him, spitting out fireballs, but every time I did Sasuke only leapt back again. He looked good and riled now. My mouth twitched upwards in a smirk, time to throw in insults.

“You know for being a prodigy, you're a pretty lousy one.” I drawled casually. Sasuke straightened up from his crouched position, his brows drawn low over his nose. I nodded as if he had said something, “Even my brother, the famed 'dead last of the Uchiha', was chūnin at eleven and had unlocked his sharingan at age thirteen. And let's not get into Shisui and Itachi.”

“What's your point?” Sasuke snapped angrily.

I sneered as I made the hand signs again, “My point is that you're going to have a hell of a time learning without that sharingan. Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!”

vvv

“Ouch!” Sasuke actually yelped later that night as I applied salve to his burns.

I rolled my eyes, “Hush up, you big baby! I'm not even hurting you.” I swatted the brat over the head for good measure.

Tazuna snorted, “Now you are.” He chuckled then made a squeaking noise in the back of his throat when Sasuke and I glared at him.

Naruto seemed torn between laughing at Sasuke and being jealous that he got to learn a jutsu while Naruto only got to practice more chakra controlling exercises. By mid afternoon he had mastered the leaf exercise to I gave him another, when he master that one I gave him another and another. Sasuke seemed grateful every time Naruto showed up saying that he mastered the exercise, since it was a break from my torturous training methods.

I tied a knot in the last bandage and pulled it tight, causing my cousin to wince. Sasuke glared at me as he rubbed his arm. I smirked, “If you tell Itachi-san, he'll only tell you to train more. You know he will.” I teased, reading exactly what was on my younger cousin's mind. Well Itachi would probably kill me too, but I'd leave that part out.

No need to give Sasuke any funny ideas.

Feeling an evil look staring at me I looked up to see Tsunami glaring at me hotly, “Yanagi-san, you overdid it today. If you keep this up you won't be able to protect us when that man comes back!” Tazuna's daughter snapped at me.

I waved a flippant hand, “Eh, I'm a jounin, I've been dealt with chakra exhaustion before.” I said dismissively. Granted when the last time I had been on an A-rank with chakra exhaustion I had other jounin to back me up, not fresh genin. Not that I was telling any of them that.

Tsunami just continued to glare at me.

Giving in I stood up with a sigh, “Fine. I'm going to bed. Hinata, since you already mastered your training I'm putting you in charge of guarding Tazuna tomorrow. See you two boys in the morning.” I said deviously. Sasuke paled a fraction while Naruto cheered happily. With that I hobbled off for another night's rest.

vvv

“Uh... Sensei, what are we doing...?” Naruto asked. Sasuke was off in a little corner of the clearing, practicing the Phoenix Sage jutsu–he had finally memorized the hand signs I had used for the jutsu–while the Kyuubi brat and I sat in a meditative pose in the center of the clearing. It was mid-morning and so far had been peaceful except for Naruto's consent nagging.

I opened an eye, “Right now? I'm enjoying the morning. Shut up and meditate.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Sensei-”

“Meditate.”

“What does-”

“Shut up.”

“Hmph!” Naruto pouted, but at least he fell silent. I relaxed and let my mind drift over my musings on Zabuza and his ally again. I needed to figure out what they wanted before they attacked again. Maybe... maybe if they're intentions weren't as evil as I originally thought I could talk them out of their job and thus save bloodshed. Gatou, he would have to go. I didn't need the drug lord around and trying to control the Land of Waves. This whole mission was just a tangled mess. I had to worry about my genin and Tazuna. I had to figure out how to get rid of Gatou. I had to do something about Zabuza and his ally.

Why didn't I have Itachi's insane ability to plan years in advance?!

Bamf!

I opened my eyes to see Naruto had fallen over, asleep. I sighed. This kid was a long way from being Hokage, that much was for sure.

“Hey, idiot! Wake up or I won't teach you the Wind Blade!” I yelled in Naruto's ear. From his shriek of pain, I guessed that I probably burst his eardrum.

...Oops...

vvv

“Come on...” I groaned to myself as I dragged the unconscious Naruto back into the house. For a kid, he felt like he weighed a ton! I dumped him at the table and dusted my hands off.

In the meantime, Tsunami was gaping at Naruto's crumbled state, then at me, “What happened?!” She asked shocked. After a moment the older woman's eyes narrowed as if she blamed me for Naruto's sorry state. Though, it kinda was my fault...

I gave her a raised eyebrow, “He fell unconscious. He'll be fine tomorrow.” Normal kids took months months to recover from near chakra exhaustion; but Naruto was the Kyuubi container, a little chakra exhaustion wouldn't bother him too much.

“What's the use? You're just going to die!” Three guess who the doomsayer was, and the first two didn't count.

It turned out that Naruto wasn't as unconscious as I thought, he was just being extremely lazy, “What do you mean?! We're training very hard to protect you, and you just-”

Inari cut him off, “It doesn't matter how hard you try, there's no such thing as a hero!” With that the little brat ran out of the room, slamming the door shut. Tsunami ran after her son, calling out his name. I looked at Tazuna, knowing that he had answers.

Grandpa Drunk sighed and set his tea cup down. He nodded towards a torn picture hanging on the wall, one that showed his family there smiling. I squinted at the picture, along the edges that had been torn, I could barely make out part of a masculine torso behind Tsunami. There was a story behind this family's strange behavior, I could practically smell it.

“He wasn't Inari's real father, he came into our family later...” Tazuna started. I sat back and laced my fingers behind my head, I knew I was in for a treat.

Chapter 12: Bitter Taste of Reality

I nudged Naruto's side with the toe of my sandal. He didn't even twitch. Squatting down I poked the brat's cheek with a rigid finger, “Hey, dumbass...” I said loudly, knowing that a knucklehead like Naruto would react if I called him names. He still didn't move. “Obito Mini-me. Brat. Idiot. Dumb blonde. Dead last. Coward.” When the brat didn't react at all I stood back up with a sigh and turned to the others standing in the doorway.

“Well either he's dead or out like a light post.” I told them, scratching the back of my head. Hinata gasped a little, her hands going to her mouth as she no doubt thought that her precious 'Naruto-kun' was dead.

Tsunami looked as equally worried as the little Hyuuga heiress, “You don't think he overdid it in training, do you? He was looking pretty exhausted last night.

“Hn. He was passed out in the forest yesterday morning.” Sasuke commented thoughtfully.

I groaned and hung my head, I really didn't need this at the moment, “Fine, Sasuke will be on guard duty today and Hinata will train.” I said defeated. I hated it when people screwed up my schedule! “Hinata you know the rules. If anyone suspicious shows up, head for the bridge and warn everyone.”

“H-Hai.”

Sasuke frowned, “But that was the rotation yesterday.” I glared at him. Like I didn't know that already, idiot.

“Hinata still needs to train in her stealth and since Naruto is stealing your rest day, you can take his spot on guard duty. Don't complain, Duckass, true shinobi don't protest orders.” Like I predicted, Sasuke snapped his jaw shut and didn't make another sound.

Really, it was insulting how predictable that kid was.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll go with you that way you can relax at the bridge.” Everyone but Inari gave me strange looks. I returned their gaze with an unamused look, “Stop staring like calves at a new gate. I'm bored.” I snapped, perhaps just a little too defensively. By Sasuke's sudden smug look I was guessing he knew why I really was going.

I was worried about the brat.

With good reason though. There was no such thing as a jounin who didn't have a sixth sense for danger; and I felt more jittery than when Obito accidentally released those rabid squirrels in the house.

I mentally shuddered at the memory.

I moved past the miniature crowd and lead them outside. Turning to Tsunami I began issuing orders, “When Naruto wakes up, just tell him to practice his taijutsu; you also have permission to send him on any errands you have. Hinata, I want you to try and sneak up on as many woodland creatures as you can. If you catch five animals in a row then join Sasuke and I on the bridge. Duckass, Grandpa Dunk, let's go.” I turned on my heel and immediately started for the bridge without waiting for the two idiot males catch up to me.

“Geez, for a woman you walk pretty fast.” Tazuna panted when he and my cousin finally caught up. It was really pathetic that we were almost to the bridge by that point.

I gave the old drunk an unimpressed look, “Not all women are geishas or civilians who don't have anywhere important to be. The success of a mission could rely on fast feet, I could possibly save a life that would otherwise be lost if I arrive quicker than my enemies anticipate.”

Tazuna pulled a face, “Hey kid, are all shinobi like this one or is it just her?” He asked Sasuke.

Sasuke just shrugged and didn't comment. He practically had to jog to keep up with us adults; I couldn't tell if he wasn't answering because he didn't want to or because he was too focused on not falling behind. I was guessing it was a little bit of both.

“Tazuna, how long do you have before the bridge is finished?” I asked the old man. Now wasn't the time for fun and games. That sense of dread I had been feeling all morning was getting worse the closer we got to the bridge.

Grandpa Drunk shrugged, “Depends. If I have a full roster of workers, it should only be a few weeks. But with Gatou controlling everything and scaring the people, I keep losing my workers. Just yesterday I had one of my foremen quiet! I don't even have half of a roster now, it could take months with the amount of workers I got.”

Grimacing, I halted at the entrance to the bridge, “That's what I feared.” I muttered.

Tazuna gaped at his unconscious employees littering the bridge. I could tell by their chakra levels that the men were still alive, but only just. “What tha-?!” Tazuna exclaimed, his face twitching in horror. I glanced at him then at Sasuke. Sasuke looked back at me, his eyes gleaming with an odd shine of excitement. He was ready.

A sudden mist blew in from the ocean. I snarled in frustration and stepped in front of Tazuna, “Stay behind me.” I said sharply. Tazuna didn't say anything, but he didn't move.

That stupid creepy chuckle drifted out from the fog, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Uchiha. I see you still got that brat with you, but what happened with the other two? Did they run off?” I heard a slight clicking behind me, but didn't glance towards my cousin. I knew he wasn't doing something stupid. Of all my genin I trusted Sasuke the most in a fight, even if he had bouts of cowardice when I least expected it.

Peaches chuckled again, “Oh look, he's shaking again. Pathetic.” The nuke-nin laughed mockingly.

There was a small intake of air from Sasuke and I felt Zabuza's chakra spike as water clones surrounded the three of us. I tensed and palmed a kunai, ready to throw it at the clone's head that was in front of me if he so much as blinked in a way I didn't like.

Sasuke scoffed, “I'm trembling with... excitement.”

The Zabuza water clones seemed surprised at the admission and I only rolled my eyes. Why couldn't the need for dramatics skip Sasuke? It skipped Itachi and me, why not one more generation?! I had enough drama from Naruto, I didn't need Sasuke filling in for that little brat too.

Speaking of brats...

I glanced at my cousin out of the corner of my eye, “Play nice.” I said teasingly. That was all the permission Sasuke needed. He twirled the kunai in his hand around a finger so that the blade was pointing at the clone in front of him. With a delightful smirk that reminded me a little too much of Obito's sadistic grin, my baby cousin pounced at the water clones.

While Peach-boy's clones were busy trying to defeat an Uchiha brat, I ran through the signs for a summoning and slammed my hand to the bridge's surface, “Kuchiyose no Jutsu!” I heard Zabuza growl angrily as a swarm of normal sized hawks flew up from the seal, spiraling into a twister of feathers and harsh cries that surrounded me like a moving wall. I held up my right arm and one of the hawks detached itself from it's flock. “Fly to Hyuuga Hinata and inform her to come as back up.” The hawk dipped its head at my command and took off to the sky, flying out of sight before turning in the direction of Hinata. No need to tell our enemies where an ally was after all. The rest of the hawks dispersed among the cables of the bridge, their sharp yellow eyes watching.

While I was busy with my summonings, Sasuke finished up his little spar with the water clones. He looked about as cocky as a true Uchiha when he returned to his spot beside me. I mentally whimpered and hoped that I didn't get an arrogant little brat who thought he was God's gift to man. If so, I was going to beat that out of him and suffer Itachi's wrath with a smile on my face.

“Ooooo, the brat's improving.” Peach-boy said from my right. All three of us turned to see the man with horrible fashion sense giving us a leer. At least I thought it was a leer, it was kind of hard to tell when the lower half of his face was bandaged up. His ally stood beside him, still wearing that false hunter-nin mask. “Looks like you've got competition... Haku.” Zabuza continued.

“So it seems.” The boy, Haku, murmured quietly.

Trolling time.

“Oi oi. Peachy's ally, or whatever the hell your name is, are you a boy or a girl? Because honestly, you're a very androgynous individual.” I asked, intentionally playing the ignorant idiot. Tazuna and Sasuke were giving me looks that could only be described as 'way to ruin the suspense, dummy'.

Haku and Zabuza exchanged looks and I took my chance to continue, “You know what? It doesn't matter anyway, I think I'll just call you Zabuza's Bitch.” I said with a smirk. Both nuke-nins snapped their heads around to glare at me–well I assume Haku glared, it was hard to tell with the mask–while I cackled in delight of pissing my enemy off.

“Take care of the brat. I'll take the bitch.” Zabuza growled.

Haku turned his gaze on Sasuke, “Right.” The kid murmured again. Then he moved. Startled I opened my mouth to shout a warning to Sasuke, but Zabuza was on me before I could utter a single syllable.

I back flipped away from Tazuna, distancing myself from the client and the man trying to kill him. At the moment Zabuza seemed pretty focused on me, so I didn't have to worry. I smirked as I kicked Kubikiribōchō away from me. “Don't tell me I struck a nerve.” I cooed as I deflected another swing with my kunai. Zabuza snarled like an angry animal and charged at me again. I snorted and ducked under his swing. If I had know pissing Peaches off would make him attack like a predictable wild animal, I would have done it a long time ago.

Kicking off the ground, I gave myself enough time to spare a glance at Sasuke. My eyes widened as I saw Haku performing hand signs with only one hand. That wasn't something you saw everyday. I wonder if the sharingan could somehow pick it up.

Before I could activate my sharingan to see if I could, Zabuza attacked again, “You're opponent is me! Let's leave the kids to their game.”

I shot Zabuza a nasty glare, “Oh, go drown in your own water ninjutsu! I didn't come all this way with a bunch of brats and a drunk old man to hear you blowing steam, ya old windbag.” I snapped, getting irritated. I knew Zabuza wasn't taking this fight seriously. He was just trying to keep me from Sasuke and Haku's fight.

Peachy paused, “A bunch of brats, eh?” He quoted, sounding oddly interested. “So you don't think that those genin are worth anything either.”

“Oh I think they're worth a lot of things, I just like calling them brats. They're my brats and I'm the only one allowed to call them that and get away with it.” I snapped back and flung my kunai at Peachy-boy's head to emphasize my point. He easily ducked under the kunai and charged at me, his sword back and ready for a strong strike to my legs. I leaped into the air over his blade and put my hands down on Zabuza's back, flipping over him to land between him and the kids.

I smirked, “Ya know, some people would think you were compensating for something with that big blade of yours.” I commented sweetly.

“You're letting that big mouth get away again, Uchiha.” Peachy growled.

I shrugged, “Well at least I'm not trying to prank you as well as fight you like my brother does. That's just annoying.” I said coolly. From the look in Zabuza's eyes, he thought my inappropriate remarks were a hell of a lot more annoying.

“Argh!” Both of us whipped around to see Sasuke kicking Haku away.

Sasuke stood in his spot, smirking, “Seems you're not as fast as you think you are.” He said, idly spinning his kunai around his index finger. Cocky little git, I was definitely beating that arrogance out of his system.

Zabuza glared at his ally, “Haku. Stop messing around and letting a brat beat you, get on with it!” He ordered.

The masked boy stood back up easily, “Yes.” He responded in an almost robotic voice.

Frowning I turned my back on Zabuza to watch what the masked brat was doing. Icy blue strands of chakra haloed Haku and he bowed his head, “I'm sorry it's come to this.” The boy said softly and made a strange sign. The temperature dropped drastically and I uttered a curse under my breath as I automatically regulated my chakra to keep myself warm. Of course our newest enemy would have some kind of tie to cold weather. It wouldn't be hell if he didn't.

Stupid karma demons and their stupid agenda against me.

The water around Sasuke and Haku suddenly leaped up into the air to form flat frozen surfaces. Haku stepped into the mirrors, senbon needles in his hands. Meanwhile I gaped in surprise, it was not cold enough to form ice like that. Even the most powerful shinobi with water nature had a hard time creating ice even in temperatures where it was easy to form. That only meant one thing.

Kekke Genkai.

Peaches chuckled behind me, “Seems you figured it out.”

Growling I ran for the ice mirrors, but Peach-boy flash stepped in front of me. “If you're going to fight, you will fight me.” He snapped.

I glared at him. “Bastard.” I spat out.

The peachy nuke-nin chuckled creepily, “Oh? Out of your witty comments? I'm crushed.” I could practically taste the sarcasm in the air.

“You have three seconds to step aside before I really crush you.”

“How cute. You think you can defeat me. You weren't able to before, what makes you think you can now that we're surrounded by even more water than before?” My eyes widened a fraction and I flung my kunai at the water clone that I thought was Zabuza and leaping away before the real Zabuza could cut me down. He didn't look all that happy when he turned to face me. He scoffed when he saw my sharingan, “That again? Are all the Uchiha so weak that they rely on that silly Kekke Genkai of theirs? How pathetic.”

Sasuke yelped and I looked over Peaches shoulder to see Haku raining senbon down on my cousin like a vengeful thunderstorm. Anger washed over me, hot and heady, when I landed my gaze back on Zabuza. “Two seconds to move.”

Peaches sneered.

“One.”

He didn't move.

I held my right arm above my head and brought my left to my mouth. Curling my index and thumb around my tongue I whistled loudly, using a small wind ninjutsu to amplify the sound. My hawk summons, having been sitting on the sidelines forgotten, all took flight. They flew in circles like a roiling thundercloud of brown and black, using my upraised arm as the pivot point.

“Last chance to move.” I said. Zabuza stubbornly stayed where he was. My mouth twisted in an ugly grimace and I lowered my right arm to point at the Mist nuke-nin. The hawks gave one last turn before following my finger and shooting straight towards Peach-boy.

He smirked.

My eyes widened.

“Hha!” I felt water douse my back and I spun around to see Hinata standing in a puddle of water, formerly a water clone, panting slightly. She gave me a shaky grin, “I-I'm sorry Y-Yanagi-sensei. I c-came as fast as I c-c-c-could.” She stuttered slightly, a blush forming on her cheeks. I didn't blame her, Hinata had suddenly become the center of attention after pulling a stunt like that. Even Haku stopped torturing my poor cousin to stare at her.

I grinned, “Hey, I'm not complaining. You just saved me from being skewered like a roast pig.” I joked before turning serious, “Guard Tazuna, don't leave his side for any reason.” I ordered. Hinata gave a firm nod and leaped sideways until she was in front of Tazuna, in a Gentle Fist stance. When I turned to face Zabuza again, he did not look amused.

“Oh... did she ruin your little scheme?” I asked innocently, pressing an index finger to the corner of my mouth like a slut trying to act cute.

That did it, I could practically hear Peachy's patience snap. He snarled and charged at me, “Shut up!”

I laughed as I jumped away from him, “Looks like you underestimated my brats, Peach-boy. Sasuke and Hinata are clan kids and having been training with their families since they could hold a kunai right.” I ducked under Peachy's swing and shot my left leg out for a round house kick. Zabuza launched into the air to avoid my leg and I pulled back before he could land on it. “Sasuke is the best in his class and no one can defeat Hinata in taijutsu. She's a Hyuuga after all, it's in her blood.” I taunted as I back flipped away from the Kubikiribōchō.

Skidding to a halt a few feet away from Peaches I smirked, “And what have you got? A coward with a nice Kekke Genkai. Well, I've got two brats with Kekke Genkai and neither of them are cowards!”

Zabuza's face twisted unpleasantly, “Haku, stop goofing around and kill that pest!” He barked out, his gaze darting over his shoulder to where the ice mirrors stood. Haku didn't respond, but only started throwing more senbons at Sasuke at a more rapid pace than before; I tried not to flinch when I heard Sasuke cry out. Peachy looked back at me, his gaze deadlier than before, “That big mouth of yours is going to get your brats killed, Uchiha.”

I only smiled, “I'm confident they can handle one little brat, even one as powerful as yours. Besides, you forgot something.” Peach-boy stiffened as it dawned on him that Naruto had yet to appear. My smile twisted into a sneer, “You know, I think my last student deserves to be called the 'Stupidly Brave Shinobi of Konoha' more than I do. After all, not many genin are brave enough to fight someone like you, Peach-boy, let alone get the better of you.”

As if planned there was a puff of smoke to the right of Haku's mirrors. Naruto's voice drifted from the white billowing vapors, “I resent that, Frizzy-sensei! Call me the 'Fearless Shinobi of Konoha'! That's right, Uzumaki Naruto is here!” My eye only twitched a little at the nickname. I'd let it slide this one time.

Peach-boy blinked slowly at Naruto then looked at me, “You think some brat like him can do anything?”

I shrugged, “Why not? It was a dead-last like Naruto who helped turn the last shinobi war back in Konoha's favor.” I responded coolly. I should know, Obito was the idiot I was talking about. “I feel Naruto can do the same with this little spat we have. Dead-last shinobi have a tendency to surprise people.” Naruto took a second to gawk at me, not use to my free praise. All I could say was he had better back up my claims or I was going to murder the little sucker.

Naruto got a really big grin on his face, “You know how the hero always shows up at the last minute and kicks butt? Well that's what I'm going to do, right now! So don't you worry sensei, you can just sit back and watch me beat these guys!”

I facepalmed.

The blonde idiot ignored me, “Alright, you're history!” He formed a sign, “Shadow Clone Jutsu!” But before Naruto could form a single clone, Zabuza twisted around and threw a handful of shuriken at him. Like with the Demon Brothers, Naruto's first reaction was the freeze in fear.

“Move Naruto!” I yelled, my heart in my throat as I watched the throwing stars head for my frozen student. I wouldn't be able to get there in time to stop them, not even my hawks surrounding the bridge would be able to grab the shuriken in time.

Out of no where, senbon needles collided with the shuriken and knocked them off course. I jerked in surprise and twisted to stare at Haku half leaning out of his mirrors, still in the position of someone who had just thrown something. Zabuza narrowed his eyes at his ally.

Now that he was out of danger, I felt it safe to yell at Naruto, “You imbecile! This is a real battle not a stupid spar; a shinobi's lifestyle is deception, not a damn talent show! Always keep your enemy guessing, be unpredictable so they can't figure out how to defeat you. So get your head outta your ass and think before someone makes a dartboard out of you!”

Naruto turned about as red as Hinata did when Naruto got within ten feet of her. He started yelling apologies, but I ignored him to glance at Haku. Everyone else seemed to think that Haku had thrown senbon at Naruto at the same time Zabuza did and their attacks ended up colliding; but I knew better. One look at my cousin-turned-porcupine told me that Haku did not miss his targets. Which could only mean... he meant to throw those shuriken off track.

The question was why.

Peach-boy seemed to be thinking the same thing I was, “Haku, what are you doing?” Peachy demanded. His tone was dangerous and angry, he was pissed at Haku for disturbing his attack. In Zabuza's state of mind at the moment, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if he attacked his own ally out of anger.

One could only hope.

Haku straightened out of his position and dipped his head towards Peaches, “Zabuza-sama, let me fight this boy in my own way... please.” The brat rasped. Mildly I wondered if all Kiri nins had that smoker rasp, or if it was just these two idiots.

Naruto glared at the masked boy, “Bring. It. On.” He challenged before I could tell him to not be stupid. I suppressed the urge to hang my head in defeat at the stupidity of the blonde brat and wondered if he knew how powerful Haku was. Sasuke was hardly a match for the nuke-nin, what chance did Naruto have against him?!

Zabuza chuckled, “As usual you're too soft, Haku. Fine, if that is what you wish.” Soft? What part of that masked brat was...

I glanced at Sasuke. He was injured but not too bad, nothing that would cause any lasting damage. So either Haku was very sadistic and liked to play with his enemies; or he was soft as Zabuza said and wasn't trying to hurt Sasuke, just stall him. Still, knowing Naruto, he'd piss Haku off enough that the nuke-nin would tear him to shreds. I started to take a step forward to intervene before things got worse, but Peaches blocked my path.

“Don't even think about it.” Oddly enough, Peachy sounded amused. “You know what will happen if you take on Haku. I'll go after the bridge builder and that little girl.” I stiffened and looked to the left where Tazuna and Hinata stood. There was no way that I would be able to end Haku and protect those two at the same time. Against a long sword like the Kubikiribōchō, Hinata's taijutsu was useless; and without me guiding my hawk summons they couldn't do shit but sit there and look pretty. I supposed I could summon a larger hawk to deal with Zabuza while I took out Haku, but that would cut down on my chakra and possibly put me in a dangerous position.

Damn.

Zabuza seemed to know I was in a bind, he smirked underneath those bandages, “Relax, Uchiha. Lets see how our students do... one on one.” I gave him an Uchiha Glare, but he wasn't even paying attention to me. I didn't dare attack, he might not be looking at me, but I know the Peach Bastard was still prepared to fight me. Only an idiot would think otherwise.

Apparently Sasuke was an idiot.

While Haku was talking to Naruto, a kunai came flying out of the ice prison that held Sasuke. Haku easily dodged the knife and looked at my cousin, “Don't think I forgot about you, not for an instant.” The masked nuke-nin tilted his head a little, “Some warriors accept defeat gracefully, they know when they are beaten...” Oh great, know I was going to have two idiots who couldn't think straight, “Others do not. So be it, let us finish our battle then.”

I couldn't help but groan quietly as Haku reentered his mirrors. Zabuza actually snorted and gave me an amused look as if we weren't enemies fighting to the death but two people just watching our students spar. I shot him a brief glare and looked away. I refused to think Peaches was anyone else but my enemy.

It was torture having to watch my cousin practically being torn to shreds by multiple attacks coming from all the mirrors. With my sharingan I could pick up the real Haku and how he jumped from mirror to mirror to keep the element of surprise. The little pest was fast, even with my sharingan I could just barely pick up his movements as he flashed between the mirrors. But I still didn't know how the mirrors worked.

“Sasuke, Naruto think! You have to attack the mirrors from the inside and outside at the same time to figure out how they work!” I yelled. Naruto's face brightened with an idea and there was a poof and...

He was gone.

It was only when Sasuke started yelling did I realize where he went. My eye twitched and I glanced at Zabuza. The nuke-nin looked like he was on the verge of laughing, I was almost tempted to tell him that I was disowning Naruto as my student after a stunt like that.

“Katon: Phoenix Sage Jutsu!” Sasuke yelled out and there was a brief glow of orange that surrounded the multiple mirrors at various angles, but none of them melted.

I could hear the amusement in Haku's voice when he said, “You'll need more firepower than that to melt this ice.” I stiffened slightly. More firepower? I could easily do that, but...

Peaches smirked at me, easily reading my mind, “If you melt the mirrors you'll incinerate your students. Doesn't that defeat the purpose?” He asked. I shot him a nasty look and mildly wondered why he hadn't attacked yet. Peach-boy didn't have a problem earlier, was he just stalling then to get to this point and showcase his student? He had been hired to take out my client, not show off his student's prowess.

Once again my suspicions of his involvement with the Mist Rebels surfaced. I eyed the man, trying to figure out his game. I doubted that he was ever fighting me seriously. All he had done was send water clones and swing that big ass sword around. Zabuza had been part of the Seven Swordsmen of Kirigakure, he had gotten the position by being a master of kenjutsu. So far Zabuza had been attacking as if the Kubikiribōchō was just a piece of metal to be swung around and not a great sword.

Of course it was always possible that he was downplaying his abilities to keep the element of surprise; I had been doing the same by only dodging Zabuza's sword and tossing kunai around when I got the opening. But it just didn't fit Peachy's personality to use deception when he had the opportunity to strike. I glanced at the ice prison as Haku bounded from mirror to mirror, raining senbon down on Sasuke and Naruto. Haku was the same. I knew that that jutsu was meant to trap and destroy an opponent. The positioning of the mirrors and the pure speed of Haku proved that point easily enough. So why weren't my students dead yet? From what I had gathered on Haku, I knew he wasn't the sick twisted kind of shinobi that enjoyed toying with their victims. Not even Zabuza was that way. Zabuza's way of killing was quick, painless, and silent; leaving any survivors baffled and frightened of the Demon of the Mist.

Naruto's yelling stopped my musing, “I won't quit! Not ever, I'm going to survive and become Hokage because that is my dream!” I didn't know if I should be proud that he still wasn't giving up even after that downpour of needles or still embarrassed that he had gotten himself into that mess.

What Haku responded with surprised me, “I didn't want to be a shinobi, it's painful. I don't want to kill you, but if you come closer I will have no choice.” What? “I will kill the kindness in my own heart and fully embrace the shinobi way. This bridge will the battlefield where our dreams collide. I will fight for my dream, just as you fight for yours. Please do not blame me, I fight for someone who is precious to me. I live for him and I will face death for him so that his dream will become reality. That is my dream, and for the sake of that dream, if I must I will act as a shinobi and take your lives!”

I bowed my head and glanced at the silent Zabuza. It was obvious that Haku was referring to Peach-boy, but why? What did Zabuza do that made the kid so loyal to him? And furthermore, just what was Zabuza's dream? The more I listened to Haku, the more reluctant I was to kill the kid, but if he got in the way of my mission then I would cut him and Zabuza down.

Peaches shot me a haughty glance, “Tell me Uchiha, does that wimpy village of yours still avoid the most important rule of being a shinobi?” He asked as if he were genuinely curious.

I only started at him in silence. It was a loaded question, so I saw no need in wasting my breath with an answer that was already obvious.

Peach-boy cackled like a madman, “I wonder what your precious little Hokage will say when you come back with two bodies instead of three live genin... if you survive that is.” I heard Tazuna inhale sharply as it dawned on him just how outnumbered the genin truly were. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see how Hinata was holding up to the news of her possible death.

Not too well.

Zabuza followed my gaze, “She's going to faint.” He observed in a tone that could only be amusement. He looked back at me, “How is it that you ended up with three incompetent brats? You're supposed to be an A-class kunoichi, and yet here you are... babysitting.”

“Hn.” I grunted. That insult was so pathetic I knew I would lose brain cells just by answering it. One would think that the Bloody Mist would pencil in a trash talk class right after their academy students learned how to gut a helpless victim. At least so they wouldn't kill their opponents from the lame insults flying around.

Unless... that was their stupid plan all along.

The damn man didn't shut up though, “Falling back on the Uchiha customary response? How unlike you.” Great now he was adding sarcasm to the list. My eye twitched and I came close to planting my fist in his stupid, bandaged face if only to shut him up; but I somehow refrained... for now. “It must goad you that your precious Hokage would dump a bunch of brats on you. It's such a waste of your skills, chasing after three brats like you're their nanny while shinobi weaker than you take over your missions.” Peachy continued on, not even bothering to see if he was really insulting me or not.

Finally I got fed up, “Your insults are pathetic. Even my pacifist cousin can talk trash better than you.” I deadpanned. Peachy didn't even have the decency to look offended. He only smirked at me from underneath his bandages.

I reached into my weapons pouch and brought out a fan. Snapping it open I began lightly fanning myself like a geisha would. I even fluttered my eyelashes at Peaches, “Let's get this over with, ne? I want to leave by dusk.” I simpered like a primping airhead and reactivated my sharingan, having had deactivated it once I realized I would never figure out Haku's jutsu with my eyes.

Zabuza jerked his gaze away from my sharingan and he reached back into his own kunai pouch. As he charged at me, I made a sweeping motion with my arm so that my fan cut through the air like a blade. When he came into my range, I thumbed the little lever on the handle and fourteen senbon needles shot out of the fan's ribs. Unfortunately due to the large curve of the fan's edge, only five senbons were heading directly at Peaches. He easily knocked them away with his two bladed kunai and jumped back.

I snapped the fan shut and pointed it at him, “Lesson number one of kunoichi tactics: Everything can be a weapon.” I depressed another button on the bamboo frame of the fan and a three inch blade shot out of the little slot that was embedded into the fan, just to prove my point. Zabuza did not looked very pleased with my Fan of Wonders–as Obito called it.

In fact, I could swear he was pouting.

“This won't be like last time, Peach-boy.” I promised him, my smirk melting away to be replaced with the expressionless mask every shinobi seemed to have.

The bandaged nuke-nin seemed to have stolen my smirk, “You're correct, because this time even if you do defeat me, you have no chance against Haku. When I found him he was just a street rat, but I trained him in the most advanced techniques. I taught him everything I know, and with that Kekke Genkai of his, soon he was able to take on dangerous enemies. Even outnumbered and in total darkness, he could strike with perfect accuracy. He cared nothing for his own life, or the lives of others. Haku became a unique fighting machine, a shinobi. In the end even he surpassed me, with that Kekke Genkai of his nothing can defeat it! I've created a tool that can destroy anyone who stands in my way, unlike those useless brats that follow you around like little lost puppies!”

I grimaced in disgust at the man before me. Then I glanced over his shoulder at the prison of ice mirrors where the shouts of pain from Naruto and Sasuke were still originating. When I head heard Haku's speech I was ready to put an end to the battle peacefully, just to save the kid the pain of losing his precious person. Now I was ready to roast the fool who dared take advantage of loyalty like that.

Zabuza laughed as he looked back at the ice mirrors with a crazed look in his eyes, “You think those punks can defeat Haku? He's the ultimate battle tool of destruction!”

“Would ya shut up already? Geez you sound worse than my uncle when he's talking about Itachi!” I snapped, getting irritated with this 'Haku is so great! You can never defeat him!' bullshit. Was Zabuza Haku's fangirl or senpai?!

Zabuza didn't understand the reference, so he wasn't offended. Though I had now doubt he would be throwing a temper tantrum if he knew how Fugaku was when he was bragging about my cousin. “Fine, but there is one more thing you should know.” I raised an eyebrow and decided to humor him, not that he needed any encouragement, “Did you really think our last battle was just win or lose? Haku had been watching the whole time, watching every move your made with that sharingan of yours. Haku can see a move once and immediately devise a counterattack; it's one of his... gifts. I've been waiting to see the look on your pretty face when you realize that your sharingan has become worthless!”

I kept my face blank just to annoy him.

Zabuza held up two fingers, “Suiton: Hidden Mist Jutsu!”

Deja vu, anyone?

The thin mist that had already layered the air thickened to the point of no visibility. I cursed, my sharingan eyes darting to pick up the slighted movement in the mist; but all I could see was Hinata and Tazuna fidgeting around, looking left and right for a thin spot in the thick mist. I pinned Hinata with a look. She was twitching nervously and shaking in fear, “Hinata, stay with Tazuna. Don't leave his side for any reason.” I ordered her in a sharp tone. The Hyuuga girl seemed to get over her fear at the order and nodded firmly before shifting from an offensive to a defensive taijutsu stance. I had noticed over the weeks that she seemed to lose her cowardice when given a direct order. Hopefully she would stand by it even if I went down.

Shuriken came out of no where and I easily batted them away with my closed fan. I took a cautious step in the direction the throwing stars had come from but stopped and twisted around when I felt Zabuza's chakra behind me. I blinked when I saw that his eyes were closed. Was he trying to prevent looking into my sharingan or was it another reason entirely? I frowned when he started to speak.

“Next time you see me, will be the last time you see anything.” Okay, for Peach-boy, that wasn't a half bad attempt to be intimidating; but still... even goofy Shisui still beat him by a mile. Of course, goofy Shisui happened to be pretty terrifying when someone did the impossible and actually pissed him off, but that was irrelevant. “Without your sharingan, you're nothing.” Zabuza rasped and then disappeared again before I could attack. I twitched in annoyance. If this was just going to be a hit-and-run tactic I was going to murder someone.

Preferably Peaches; but I would take Tazuna for putting me in this mess in the first place too.

Fine. If he wanted to play this game, then I would just pull and Uchiha Tactic straight from the Book of Bullshit and own his sorry ass before he could sneeze. I ran through the appropriate hand signs and slammed my palms together with a loud clap, “Fūton: Gale Palm!” In a large ejection of wind oriented chakra, I managed to disperse most of the mist thinning it out enough that I could see Zabuza's faint outline several paces to my right. I turned to face the outline and began a new set of hand signs, “Katon: Great Fireball Jutsu!” I shouted and sent a steady stream of fire at Zabuza.

I grinned when Zabuza had to leap out of the mist and into my sight, just like I wanted, “I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last part. You left to quickly. Something about me being without my sharingan...?” I said teasingly. Boy, did Peaches look pissed off.

Somehow that set off a monologue of how Peach-boy had figured out the secret behind the sharingan. I almost started nodding off when he started explaining the piercing eye and the hypnotic eye and how I had used them in battle. Seriously, what was with this guy and explaining things to invisible audiences? Was he so enamored with his own smoker voice that he liked making long winded speeches over obvious things?!

That would explain a lot of things, actually.

After he finished lecturing me about things I had grown up knowing, he started talking about his 'ultimate plan to win the day'. Finally I gave up pretending to listen and groaned loudly, “Oh. My. Kami. SHUT UP! At least try to make it harder on me by not explaining your stupid little plan. Dear Lord, do I need to give you the 'a shinobi's lifestyle is deception' lecture I gave Naruto too?!”

There was a beat of silence when even Haku stopped fighting Naruto and Sasuke, before Zabuza's annoying raspy voice spoke again, “Fine. I just won't give you a sporting chance.” If that was what he called a 'sporting chance' I would gladly go without, if only to keep my ears from bleeding.

In the back of my mind I wondered who could out talk the other: the Hokage or Peaches.

The fighting between the three boys resumed with vigor, but something was different about it. I could hear Sasuke using the fireball jutsu as well, which was strange. Didn't he already try to melt the ice and figure out that it didn't work? What could those two idiots possibly be up to? I risked a glance in their direction, hoping that it might shed some light on their plan.

“Pay attention to your own fight!” Zabuza roared and I snapped my head around with a gasp just in time to feel his foot connect with my jawline. There was a dull crunch and I tasted the sharp coppery twang of blood flooding my mouth; seconds later a wave of pain bloomed from my jaw, momentarily causing my mind to blank. I landed in a heap on the ground, my jaw throbbing painfully. I reached up to cradle it and winced when my hand grazed against the bruising area. The bone was cracked at the very least.

High killer intent brought my head up and my eyes widened when I saw Zabuza descending from the air, the Kubikiribōchō raised over his head and positioned to bisect me at the waist. Scrambling, I twisted to the side and got my feet under me just as the long blade dug into the ground almost three inches deep. I winced and tried not to imagine what would have happened to be had I been any slower.

I was really starting to regret pissing Peaches off.

The Kiri nuke-nin yanked his big ass sword out of the ground and turned towards me, a deranged look in his eyes. “Seems I finally succeeded in shutting up the Uchiha with the runaway mouth. Now to make it permanent.” I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the lame trash talk. This guy was truly pathetic when it came to being intimidating. I was starting to think that awkward Iruka could be more terrifying than this guy. The chunnin might be terrifying to kids, but he was just a socially awkward wimp when it came to adults.

Peachy disappeared.

I stiffened and looked around, trying to discern any chakra signal with either my sharingan or my sensory abilities. I swallowed a mouthful of blood, trying not to gag at the overbearing taste of copper, and ran through my options. While the wind jutsu had momentarily cleared the mist, it was back in full force, once again hindering my line of vision. Sight was out, I could deal with that. Peaches was a master of the silent killing technique; he could enter a crowd full of people, kill one person, and be gone before that person even hit the ground–all the while not making a smidgen of noise. That mean I could not hear Zabuza's attacks either and if I did it was probably a distraction. Still I could manage without hearing too.

That left my sensing abilities and scent. I wasn't a tracker and I was no where near as good at olfactory perception as Kakashi or the Inuzuka clan, but I still had a sharp nose. However, the problem with that was my sense of smell was being overridden by the smell of my blood still filling my mouth. My chances of predicting Peaches next attack were starting to slim down. My chakra sensing abilities weren't the best, it was mostly just raw talent, but I still should be able to pick out Zabuza's large chakra source in the thick mist he had created. It would be like trying to pick out the early morning sun in a thick fog, but it was still doable. Unless Peach-boy suppressed his chakra, I should be able to sense him.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on spanning my awareness about the bridge. I could feel the chakra of the three boys flitting around inside the ice prison, which appeared to be a thin dome of Haku's chakra, and I could pick out Hinata's still relatively high chakra reserves right in front of Tazuna's stunted civilian level chakra. Wait.

Hinata.

Damn it! I had a Hyuuga with me the whole time and I was too caught up in my ego to even think about asking her for help. There wasn't anything that could hide from the Byakugan! And now, I couldn't talk because of my cracked jawbone. Growling deep in my throat I was about to shunshin to Hinata and signal what I needed in my rusty genin hand signs, when the object I was looking for appeared.

Right where I didn't want it.

Chapter 13: Reassuring Brats is Such a Drag

“W-where's N-N-N-Na-Naruto-kun?” Hinata asked the next day as she came down for breakfast. I ignored the conversation as I absentmindedly went over my supply of weapons. My instincts were telling me that the final battle between my team and Zabuza was approaching fast. I wouldn't be unprepared this time, I was going to make sure I was as prepared as I could be with my limited resources. I sighed through my nose and wished that the Land of Waves had a weapons shop of some sort. I had gone as far as whittling down sticks I gathered in the woods into makeshift senbon needles.

There was no way in hell I was going to lose this fight.

Tsunami's worried voice brought me back to reality, “Well I hope he's alright. A child shouldn't spend the night out in the woods alone.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I reattached my weapons pouch to my hip. Civilians would forever think that a child was a child and not a ninja, no matter what we did to convince them otherwise.

“I wouldn't worry.” Everyone turned to look at me. I found it amusing that there were sparks of anger in the eyes of the two genin present. It was especially funny coming from Hinata. I shrugged, “Naruto is an immature brat, but he's still a genin. He'll be fine...” A smirk crawled up the corner of my mouth, “Although, he could be dead from chakra exhaustion. He's an idiot for practicing that jutsu day in and day out.”

Hinata squeaked in fear and daintily covered her mouth with her hands. “S-sensei, you d-d-don't th-think that he–” She didn't finish her thought, as if she was afraid that if she said Naruto was dead it would be true.

Sasuke hummed to himself, “Sensei is probably right. That dobe is probably dead somewhere.” I mentally grinned evilly as I filed away the quote for future blackmail against Sasuke. If Mikoto ever found out that Sasuke was being rude to Kushina-san's child, my aunt would hang Sasuke by his toenails and proceed to skin him alive.

Duckass stood suddenly and started to walk away, “I'm going for a walk.” He said nonchalantly as he stuffed his hands into his shorts' pockets.

I grinned at my cousin as he passed me, “Say hi to your boyfriend for me when you find him!” I called teasingly. Sasuke actually snarled when he glared at me and I laughed with true delight. I swear teasing Sasuke was almost as fun as it had was to tease Kakashi-nii.

Actually teasing the duckass was more fun because he didn't throw kunais at me.

Or tell Shisui where I was at any given time.

The door clicked shut behind Sasuke and I immediately stood up, “Let's go Hinata, you're turn for practice.” I didn't miss Hinata's flinch, but I ignored it. Now was not the time for personal issues, we were about to have a fight on our hands.

Hinata followed me quietly until we reached the clearing I had in mind to use as Hinata's training ground. I sat down in the middle of the clearing and closed my eyes, “Alright, go out in the woods for a bit and try to sneak back here. I'll tell you if I hear you or not.”

She didn't move.

I waited for a moment longer before cracking an eye open. Hinata stood there, still in her strangely defiant mood. If not for the blush on her cheeks or the nervous way she twiddled her fingers, I would have said she was glaring at me. I guess I wasn't getting out of this easily.

“Look,” I started as I leaned back on my hands and closed my eye again, “it's my job as your sensei to prepare you for the world. I won't apologize for seeming a little harsh; to me Naruto, Sasuke and you are all adults so I won't coddle you. If you can't handle it, then resign from your career as a kunoichi and find a less stressful job.” I opened my other eye to pin the quiet Hyuuga heiress with a serious look, “Otherwise, start practicing.”

Hinata was quiet for a long time. She just stood in her place, staring at me. I held her gaze. Hinata may be a shy child who stuttered a lot, but I could tell by her eyes that gaining her respect would be a challenge for anyone, and once the had it she would never stop respecting them no matter what they did. I knew that her philosophy came from her clan, so I would respect her beliefs, however much they differed from the Uchiha clan.

Finally the little girl bowed deeply, as one would to a highly respected elder, and ran off into the woods. I smiled, I was actually starting to enjoy this jounin sensei gig... well at least with Hinata.

The two boys were still annoying.

When I was could no longer feel Hinata's chakra signature, I pulled a blank scroll out of my weapons pouch and opened it. Setting it down in front of me, the tip of my foot resting on the edge to keep the scroll from rolling back up, I took out my fan I used for wind ninjutsu and unfurled it. I felt along the fan's edge for the rib that was just slightly larger than the others. Hooking my fingernail under the tiny lip at the top, I pulled out my field brush then I flipped the fan over so I could feel along the base for the compartment that held a block of compressed and died ink.

With all my supplies laid out I proceeded to make the ink. Scratching off a good bit of the powdered ink into the large thumb indent on my fan that doubled as an ink pot, I spat saliva until the ink was smooth and thin enough for writing. Carefully, to avoid spilling my hard won ink, I set the fan down by my leg and dipped the brush into the ink. Leaning closer to the blank scroll I began the emergency report.

'Red Update

Mission status: C-rank updated to A-rank

Team: Genin Team 7

Report: Three days out of Konohagakure, Team had encountered two chunnin level nuke-nin known as the 'Demon Brothers'. Minimal injuries. The nuke-nin were taken out by Team Leader with a minor AoE genjutsu. Client confessed to requesting a B-rank level Mission under the rank C. Team decision made to deliver Client safely to Destination and abort the Mission. En route to Destination, Team encountered A-class nuke-nin known as Momochi Zabuza. Presumed Alive with Unknown Ally. Team Leader mildly injured: Chakra Exhaustion. Political tension. Gang trouble caused by man named Gatou. Team has made unanimous decision to remain at Destination until problems are resolved.'

After the ink dried I rolled the scroll back up and drew three bands around the outside, marking the information as High Priority information. Setting aside the scroll I twirled my brush around and used the sharp end of it to stab my thumb. Quickly I made the hand signs and slammed my palm to the ground, “Kuchiyose no Jutsu!”

A small puff of smoke and a small brown hawk stood there, her head cocked to the side as she stared at me with one sharp yellow eye, “Yanagi-sama? You have use of me?” The hawk summon questioned in her smooth silky voice.

I picked up the scroll and presented it to her, “Take this to the Hokage in Konohagakure, fast.” The hawk jumped into the air and grabbed the scroll in her talons. I bowed my head in thanks and the hawk was gone so quickly she was nothing but a speck in the sky within a minute. Breathing in relief I knew the scroll would reach Konoha withing two days. All my hawk summons were naturally fast; but Izon was the fastest of the group, I could rely on her.

As I finished wiping the ink out of my fan's thumb imprint, I called out, “I know you're there. Go back and try again.” There was a moment of silence before I could feel Hinata's chakra starting to move away from me again. For her to get within 50 meters of me without my noticing was a feat; maybe I underestimated the Hyuuga girl.

vvv 3rd Person~ Sasuke vvv

Sasuke found Naruto alright, talking to some weird androgynous boy. The Uchiha boy didn't know if he should be amused that Naruto thought the boy was a girl, or annoyed that the loser was blabbing to a complete stranger about shinobi matters. He was leaning towards annoyed. Sasuke wasn't dumb, that boy down there with Naruto wasn't some innocent civilian boy. Having grown up in a ninja clan, Sasuke could spot the small telltale signs of a trained shinobi and that boy was definitely a shinobi of some sort. Why he was bothering Naruto... that was the question.

Sasuke knew enough espionage to know that one should never be discovered loitering around. When it was clear that the strange boy was getting ready to leave, Sasuke ducked back a few yards and began slowly walking back towards the pair. He tucked his hands in his pockets and made a casual show of looking around; when the boy turned around Sasuke pretended that the movement caught his attention and picked up his pace, his dark eyes solely on Naruto. Sasuke glanced up at the strange boy passed him, just a false curious glance, before returning his gaze on the confused blonde.

Only when the boy was far behind him did Sasuke pause and glance back. He knew that subtle tension anywhere, he had seen it in his father, Itachi-nii, Shisui, even Kaa-chan. Almost every adult he had ever come across in the clan had that same invisible aura of caution that seemed to run in their blood. There was no mistaking it now: that boy was a shinobi. And from his careful avoidance of Sasuke, the navy haired Uchiha also knew that the boy wasn't an ally.

Yanagi-sensei was going to be pissed if she knew there was a possible third-party of ill intent; but she would be even more pissed off if Sasuke didn't warn her of the possibility. Sasuke couldn't help but sigh a little, never had he understood why Shikamaru was always babbling about troublesome women until now.

To take out his frustration, Sasuke bashed Naruto on the head. The loser automatically started snapping at Sasuke, both his hands raising to cradle his poor abused head, “Hey what was that for?!”

Sasuke crossed his arms, “Hey, loser, did you forget about breakfast?”

The blonde idiot blinked a few times before giving Sasuke his signature cheesy grin and chuckling obnoxiously. Sasuke made a disgusted sound and pulled a face, knowing he wouldn't like whatever this idiot just did. He was starting to understand why Yanagi was always so grouchy; if Naruto was anything like Obito-itoko then Sasuke's respect for his female cousin just raised a few pegs.

Naruto's grin grew until it took up one-third of his face and he jerked his thumb towards him with a large wink, “Just wait til you see what I mastered last night! Frizzy-sensei is going to be so impressed!” With that the blonde idiot leapt to his feet and took out the much battered fan that Yanagi-sensei had loaned to him.

Sasuke mentally groaned. Yanagi was going to murder his teammate for destroying one of her weapons.

vvv Normal POV vvv

Bam!

“Jounin-san! Don't do that!” Tsunami squeaked in alarm when I banged my head against the table. I only responded by repeating my action, just to annoy her. Damn it damn it damn it! I didn't need any more complications! I needed a nice, straight-forward battle to the death with the Demon of the Mist; I didn't need some secretive little bastard trying to throw a stupid plot twist into this! Especially not with three genin to watch over. I was going to have a hard enough time keeping the brats alive while fighting Peaches, having a secondary opponent was going to be next to impossible!

Just kill me now, please.

“Er... Yanagi-sensei...” My head snapped up and I pinned Naruto with a deadly glare. He immediately went white and visibly shivered. Both Hinata and Sasuke edged away from the little brat, knowing that all hell was about to break loose.

I lifted a hand and jabbed my index finger in Naruto's direction, “You.” I hissed, my voice so cold I was almost surprised that I couldn't see my breath, “You had better start recalling that conversation you had with that bastard. Every. Word. Or. Else.”

Naruto chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck, “Uh... Okay... I woke up and I saw this guy sitting there, only I thought she was a girl and-” He fell silent. The Kyuubi brat's breathing started to quicken. It was obvious that he couldn't recall the conversation to save his life, which was truly on the line at the moment. His blue eyes darted to Sasuke in a panic, trying to seek out help. My cousin only looked away from his teammate, obviously not wanting to get in the crossfire.

My eyes landed on Sasuke, he wasn't going to get out of this. “If you have information, share. Don't withhold information simply because you're too scared of your own sensei.” I snapped.

I might not have interacted much with my cousin before I became his sensei, but I knew how to push his buttons long before I met him. I made a point in knowing ever single weak point in all my clansmen, both physical and mental. Sasuke wasn't one of the only Uchiha who didn't like being called a coward, but he was the most irrational when someone did. Sasuke was very easy to manipulate. Having a father like Fugaku did wonders; you would either end up as unbreakable and unpredictable like Itachi or basically a pawn like Sasuke.

As predicted, Sasuke stiffened and turned to glare at me. I kept my expression blank so he wouldn't see the victory in my onyx eyes. This boy was even more easy to manipulate than Obito, which was saying something.

I closed my eyes, “Stop glaring and start blabbing.” I said to both the boys. Leaning back against the wall by the doorway, I closed my eyes as I began memorizing whatever came out of their mouths. Both were amateurs when it came to relaying information, but I could work with that. In the back of my mind, I added reporting in a concise manner and memorization at the blink of an eye to the already long list of what I needed to teach my brats.

If we survived this stupid mission that is.

“What does it matter?!” All conversation stopped when Inari screeched in that whiny voice of his. My eyebrow twitched in irritation, this kid was really pushing it. My already endless patience was coming to an end and someone was going to get hurt soon.

Everyone looked to see the littlest brat standing at the doorway beside me, his childish eyes wet with unshed tears, “You're all going to die anyway! Gatou has a whole army, they'll just beat you and kill you. You're only wasting your-OW!” Inari fell over on his butt with his strange little hat flying off.

Everyone twisted to give me various looks of surprise and anger. I only cracked my knuckles and shook my hand, “Such a hard head, that actually hurt.” I grumbled to myself. And I thought Naruto had a hard head, but he had nothing on Inari.

“Jounin-san!” Tsunami cried out in alarm and anger. I had punched her child after all, any decent mother would be upset; even if her brat was asking for it. I wouldn't be surprised if she kicked the team out because of what I did.

Still, I had to set this doom and gloom brat right. I set a cold gaze on Inari, who shivered and whimpered. The little coward. I hit Naruto harder than that and he never acted any different. “Never tell a ninja that their career is a wasted time. And stop sniveling, it's silly and childish.”

Inari was very close to tears by then, “You don't know anything!” He wailed, “You don't know anything about this country, you're just butting in! All of you are just laughing and playing around, you don't know what it's like to be treated like trash!” I was positive that every member of Team 7 stiffened at that comment. We all had sob stories that were worse than Inari's and we knew it.

Naruto cut in before I could even open my mouth, “Oh yeah? Listen to yourself whining like some sorry little victim.” I glanced at Naruto as my expressionless mask fell over my face, concealing any trace of emotion. First I would see how the kiddies handled it, then step in and finish up whatever was left. Naruto glared at Inari, his blue eyes full of anger and self-righteousness, “You're nothing but a coward!”

“N-Naruto!” Hinata squeaked in a tiny voice, her pearl eyes wide with surprise. I doubt she had ever seen him so serious. Even I hadn't, and I had been put on his watch many times while I was part of the military police.

Naruto stood up and stomped away with a growl of frustration. I watched him go silently, keeping an eye of the reactions of my other two genin brats. Hinata looked as if she wanted to go after him, but she stayed in her seat, her Hyuuga eyes trailing after Naruto's appalling orange jumpsuit. Sasuke had retreated into his own mind, keeping his expressions to himself like I was doing, but I could tell by the way his eyes followed Naruto that he was mildly concerned for his teammate. I returned my gaze to Inari to find the little brat sobbing, thick trails of tears coursing down his cheeks. He sat there for a moment, his head bowed so no one could see his eyes, before fleeing from the room like the coward he was.

Time for me to step in.

I waited until everyone had gone to bed before searching out the gloomy brat. Even though Inari was a civilian, he still had a chakra signal, albeit an extremely weak one, so finding him on the back porch was a piece of cake. I smirked when I found him sitting at the porch's edge, his knees up to his chest.

“Hey twerp, got a minute?” I asked, bopping the kid on the back of the head lightly.

Inari flinched away from me, his hands going to hold his hat in place, as his black eyes stared at me with nervous anticipation. Seeing how I nearly tried to brain him at dinner, I didn't really blame the brat. Inari quickly covered up his fear with a sharp glare that didn't belong on his young face, “What do you want?” He asked, his bravado only breaking when his question ended in a high pitched squeak.

I took that as an invitation to sit down beside the brat, “You asked what do any of us know about suffering. It came to my attention that Naruto never answered your question, so I thought I would.” I said conversationally. Inari shifted away from me a little. I scoffed at his blatant fear of me and leaned back on my hands, my feet dangling inches above the water, “Where do I begin? Hm... well, I was raised by my brother, whom I don't really like, because my parents died before I even turned three; during the Third Shinobi War. Both Nii-san and I are practically outcasts from the clan because of some stupid reason, too. Sasuke's father constantly belittles him and says he should be more like his older brother Itachi. Hinata's father... yeesh, that guy is worse that Sasuke's dad. He actually thinks that Hinata is a waste of space because she's not the strongest in the clan. Even worse, she's the Hyuuga heiress so the expectations put on her are doubly high.”

Inari looked more and more surprised at each passing sentence. His young face began to lighten with understanding that he wasn't the only one suffered. I met his gaze and turned serious, “Then there's Naruto. He grew up without knowing his parents too; even worse, he didn't even have friends or anyone who cared about him. At least I had my brother and his team, Naruto had no one ever. Still...” I trailed off and looked up at the low hanging moon, “I never saw him cry or give up. Not even when he completely screws over a mission, he'll still try his best to make amends. That brat wants to be respected, and he'll do anything to get it.”

I smiled kindly at Inari, “My whole team has a bunch of sob stories and we all reacted in our own way. It's part of what makes us who we are and not your everyday idiot walking around on the streets. I guess you can cope through your losses by crying too... but won't you get tired of crying after a while? Isn't it better to be happy all the time, and loud and obnoxious?” Inari looked down at his feet, contemplating. I chuckled and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. He didn't flinch, “If there's anyone who can possibly understand what you're going through, it's Team 7. We're here to protect your grandfather and make sure your home stays safe from Gatou. And, if I have to die for that to be a reality, then so be it. I'll gladly give my life.”

The little boy stared at me, awe buried deep within the obsidian orbs. I snorted at his expression and moved my hand from his shoulder to wrap his neck in a playful choke hold. With my free hand I ground my knuckles into his scalp, “Eh, don't give me that look. I may be a grouchy kunoichi, but I still have a heart. I just like confusing people!” I said teasingly and for the first time since my team had arrived, I heard Inari laugh. I grinned in response as I let the kid free from my grip and leaned back again. In truth, I didn't know how to talk to people unless I was yelling at them, but for some reason this little brat managed to break the ice.

I snorted as I closed my eyes. If Nii-san could see me know, I was sure he would die laughing.

VVV^^^OMAKE^^^VVV

The Curse of the Uchiha

vvv 3rd Person vvv

“Man, why are we always the ones called off on stupid S-ranked missions?” Obito complained as Team Minato checked in at Konoha's gate. Kakashi shot Obito an irritated look while the two chunnin guards snickered. The Uchiha gave them a sideways glance, they seemed familiar, but Obito couldn't remember their names to save his life.

Rin giggled behind one hand and smiled fondly at Obito, “Because, Obito-kun, we're the only full team outside of the ANBU Corp that is cleared for S-ranks missions.” She explained happily. It wasn't often that Rin got called out on missions, but she loved every chance she got.

Obito beamed at his childhood crush, “Oh yeah! I guess it's awesome to be so powerful. But still, I wish they'd give Team Minato some off time. Between the police force and missions for Konoha, I'm being worn out.”

“Yet you somehow still manage to run your mouth.” Kakashi interjected drily.

Immediately Obito glared at his rival/friend, “Got something to say, Baka-Kashi?!”

“I just said it.”

Obito pointed at Kakashi, “Stop being so cool! We're not little kids anymore!”

Kakashi pulled out his book and opened it to his place, “You could have fooled me.” He commented. Kakashi smirked under his mask when he heard Obito gritting his teeth. Mentally he made another tally. While he refused to participate in that silly rivalry with Gai, Kakashi saw no qualms in annoying Obito.

Both men jerked forward a little when someone hit them upside the head, and turned to Rin, who was standing behind them looking annoyed, “You're both children, now grow up and march! We've gotta report to the Hokage.” The little woman ordered. Before Kakashi or Obito could do what she asked, she grabbed her teammates by the fronts of their jounin vests and dragged them along behind her.

Obito pouted as he struggled halfheartedly to escape Rin-chan's grip. “Rin-chaaaan! We can walk on our own, ya know!”

“It's not the walking that's the problem, it's your bickering! Honestly, you two never quit.”

Kakashi didn't seem all too bothered about being dragged around by a woman half his height and weight. “You don't care when it's Obito and Yanagi fighting.” He commented, still not looking up from his porn.

Rin and Obito both shot their teammate nasty looks, but Rin was the one who spoke, “That's because they're siblings and it's none of my business. Besides I'm not constantly around Yanagi-chan. It's you two idiots I've got to deal with.”

Kakashi muttered something under his breath that Rin couldn't catch. Obito, however, seemed to understand him and snorted in amusement. The Uchiha quickly ducked his head in shame and sheepishly looked at Rin, proving that whatever Kakashi had said wasn't very kind about her.

Rin could sometimes understand why Yanagi was so short tempered, if these goons were the ones who raised her. Luckily for Rin, they had arrived at the Missions Office and could give their stupid report and disperse. While Rin loved her teammates like her own family, she could only take so much of them in one sitting.

vvv

Hiruzen groaned and rubbed his temples after the rowdy team left. He would never understand how Minato-kun stayed sane around them, especially after all the drama that had happened between the three kids during the Third Shinobi War. It was one thing to have a student supposedly die and come back months later alive and well–that happened a lot in war; but it was entirely another thing to have another student be captured by Kiri-nins and forced to be the jinchuuriki of the Sanbi.

It was because of Team Minato that people said having an Uchiha on the team was asking for trouble. What was alarming was most of the time they were right; Team Minato, Team Shisui, ANBU Team Ro, and now apparently Team 7 all had horrible luck when it came to missions.

Hiruzen looked at the emergency mission report he had received from Uchiha Yanagi only moments before Team Minato came barging in the Missions Assignment Office. How on earth did Team 7 manage to somehow go from a normal C-rank mission to A-rank was beyond the Hokage's understanding, even with the explanation Yanagi had given him.

Frustrated, Hiruzen took a long drag on his pipe and read over the report again. This put him in a bind, he knew that he should send reinforcements to aid Uchiha Yanagi, but he doubted they would be reached in time. His only hope was the pray that Yanagi had the situation under control, she didn't request reinforcements which meant she could handle it.

Hiruzen paled at the very thought of how many people would be after his hide if Yanagi's team failed to return. At the top of that list would be Obito and Kakashi. Hiruzen shuddered at the thought of facing the two top shinobi in the village.

#Script's Archives #sensei fanfic #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction

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