#I cannot deny Sasuke’s got style!

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Sasuke.

#I cannot deny Sasuke’s got style! #Sasuke Uchiha #naruto #shippudden #sasuke shippudden #uchiha #chidori #anime fanart #not hp #orochimaru #sheringan #sasuke fanart #fanart #my art #naruto fanart

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Bakudeku: A Non-Comprehensive Dissection of the Exploitation of Working Bodies, the Murder of Annoying Children, and a Rivals-to-Lovers Complex

I. Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

II. Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

III. How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

IV. Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

V. Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

VI. Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

VII. Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

Disclaimer

It needs to be said that there is definitely a place for disagreement, discourse, debate, and analysis: that is a sign of an active fandom that’s heavily invested, and not inherently a bad thing at all. Considering the amount of source material we do have (from the manga, to the anime, to the movies, to the light novels, to the official art), there are going to be warring interpretations, and that’s inevitable.

I started watching and reading MHA pretty recently, and just got into the fandom. I was weary for a reason, and honestly, based on what I’ve seen, I’m still weary now. I’ve seen a lot of anti posts, and these are basically my thoughts. This entire thing is in no way comprehensive, and it’s my own opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. If I wanted to be thorough about this, I would’ve included manga panels, excerpts from the light novel, shots from the anime, links to other posts/essays/metas that have inspired this, etc. but I’m tired and not about that life right now, so, this is what it is. This is poorly organized, but maybe I’ll return to fix it.

Let’s begin.

Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

There are a lot of different reasons, that can be trivial as you like, to ship or not to ship two (or more) characters. It could be based purely off of character design, proximity, aversion to another ship, or hypotheticals. And I do think that it’s totally valid if someone dislikes the ship or can’t get on board with his character because to them, it does come across as abuse, and the implications make them uncomfortable or, or it just feels unhealthy. If that is your takeaway, and you are going to stick to your guns, the more power to you.

But Bakudeku’s relationship has canonically progressed to the point where it’s not the emotionally (or physically) abusive clusterfuck some people portray it to be, and it’s cheap to assume that it would be, based off of their characterizations as middle schoolers. Izuku intentionally opens the story as a naive little kid who views the lens of the Hero society through rose colored glasses and arguably wants nothing more than assimilation into that society; Bakugou is a privileged little snot who embodies the worst and most hypocritical beliefs of this system. Both of them are intentionally proven wrong. Both are brainwashed, as many little children are, by the propaganda and societal norms that they are exposed to. Both of their arcs include unlearning crucial aspects of the Hero ideology in order to become true heroes.

I will personally never simp for Bakugou because for the longest time, I couldn't help but think of him as a little kid on the playground screaming at the top of his lungs because someone else is on the swingset. He’s red in the face, there are probably veins popping out of his neck, he’s losing it. It’s easy to see why people would prefer Tododeku to Bakudeku.

Even now, seeing him differently, I still personally wouldn’t date Bakugou, especially if I had other options. Why? I probably wouldn’t want to date any of the guys who bullied me, especially because I think that schoolyard bullying, even in middle school, affected me largely in a negative way and created a lot of complexes I’m still trying to work through. I haven’t built a better relationship with them, and I’m not obligated to. Still, I associate them with the kind of soft trauma that they inflicted upon me, and while to them it was probably impersonal, to me, it was an intimate sort of attack that still affects me. That being said, that is me. Those are my personal experiences, and while they could undoubtedly influence how I interpret relationships, I do not want to project and hinder my own interpretation of Deku.

The reality is that Deku himself has an innate understanding of Bakugou that no one else does; I mention later that he seems to understand his language, implicitly, and I do stand by that. He understands what it is he’s actually trying to say, often why he’s saying it, and while others may see him as wimpy or unable to stand up for himself, that’s simply not true. Part of Deku’s characterization is that he is uncommonly observant and empathetic; I’m not denying that Bakugou caused harm or inflicted damage, but infantilizing Deku and preaching about trauma that’s not backed by canon and then assuming random people online excuse abuse is just...the leap of leaps, and an actual toxic thing to do. I’ve read fan works where Bakugou is a bully, and that’s all, and has caused an intimate degree of emotional, mental, and physical insecurity from their middle school years that prevents their relationship from changing, and that’s for the better. I’m not going to argue and say that it’s not an interesting take, or not valid, or has no basis, because it does. Its basis is the character that Bakugou was in middle school, and the person he was when he entered UA.

Not only is Bakugou — the current Bakugou, the one who has accumulated memories and experiences and development — not the same person he was at the beginning of the story, but Deku is not the same person, either. Maybe who they are fundamentally, at their core, stays the same, but at the beginning and end of any story, or even their arcs within the story, the point is that characters will undergo change, and that the reader will gain perspective.

“You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!”

Yes. That is a horrible thing to tell someone, even if you are a child, even if you don’t understand the implications, even if you don’t mean what it is you are saying. Had someone told me that in middle school, especially given our history and the context of our interactions, I don’t know if I would ever have forgiven them.

Here’s the thing: I’m not Deku. Neither is anyone reading this. Deku is a fictional character, and everyone we know about him is extrapolated from source material, and his response to this event follows:

“Idiot! If I really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide! Think before you speak!”

I think it’s unfair to apply our own projections as a universal rather than an interpersonal interpretation; that’s not to say that the interpretation of Bakudeku being abusive or having unbalanced power dynamics isn’t valid, or unfounded, but rather it’s not a universal interpretation, and it’s not canon. Deku is much more of a verbal thinker; in comparison, Bakugou is a visual one, at least in the format of the manga, and as such, we get various panels demonstrating his guilt, and how deep it runs. His dialogue and rapport with Deku has undeniably shifted, and it’s very clear that the way they treat each other has changed from when they were younger. Part of Bakugou’s growth is him gaining self awareness, and eventually, the strength to wield that. He knows what a fucked up little kid he was, and he carries the weight of that.

“At that moment, there were no thoughts in my head. My body just moved on its own.”

There’s a part of me that really, really disliked Bakugou going into it, partially because of what I’d seen and what I’d heard from a limited, outside perspective. I felt like Bakugou embodied the toxic masculinity (and to an extent, I still believe that) and if he won in some way, that felt like the patriarchy winning, so I couldn't help but want to muzzle and leash him before releasing him into the wild.

The reality, however, of his character in canon is that it isn’t very accurate to assume that he would be an abusive partner in the future, or that Midoryia has not forgiven him to some extent already, that the two do not care about each other or are singularly important, that they respect each other, or that the narrative has forgotten any of this.

Don’t mistake me for a Bakugou simp or apologist. I’m not, but while I definitely could also see Tododeku (and I have a soft spot for them, too, their dynamic is totally different and unique, and Todoroki is arguably treated as the tritagonist) and I’m ambivalent about Izuocha (which is written as cannoncially romantic) I do believe that canonically, Bakugou and Deku are framed as soulmates/character foils, Sasuke + Naruto, Kageyama + Hinata style. Their relationship is arguably the focus of the series. That’s not to undermine the importance or impact of Deku’s relationships with other characters, and theirs with him, but in terms of which one takes priority, and which one this all hinges on?

The manga is about a lot of things, yes, but if it were to be distilled into one relationship, buckle up, because it’s the Bakudeku show.

Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

One of the ways in which the biopolitical prioritization of Quirks is exemplified within Hero society is through Quirk marriages. Endeavor partially rationalizes the abuse of his family through the creation of a child with the perfect quirk, a child who can be molded into the perfect Hero. People with powerful, or useful abilities, are ranked high on the hierarchy of power and privilege, and with a powerful ability, the more opportunities and avenues for success are available to them.

For the most part, Bakugou is a super spoiled, privileged little rich kid who is born talented but is enabled for his aggressive behavior and, as a child, cannot move past his many internalized complexes, treats his peers like shit, and gets away with it because the hero society he lives in either has this “boys will be boys” mentality, or it’s an example of the way that power, or Power, is systematically prioritized in this society. The hero system enables and fosters abusers, people who want power and publicity, and people who are genetically predisposed to have advantages over others. There are plenty of good people who believe in and participate in this system, who want to be good, and who do good, but that doesn’t change the way that the hero society is structured, the ethical ambiguity of the Hero Commission, and the way that Heroes are but pawns, idols with machine guns, used to sell merch to the public, to install faith in the government, or the current status quo, and reinforce capitalist propaganda. Even All Might, the epitome of everything a Hero should be, is drained over the years, and exists as a concept or idea, when in reality he is a hollow shell with an entire person inside, struggling to survive. Hero society is functionally dependent on illusion.

In Marxist terms: There is no truth, there is only power.

Although Bakugou does change, and I think that while he regrets his actions, what is long overdue is him verbally expressing his remorse, both to himself and Deku. One might argue that he’s tried to do it in ways that are compatible with his limited emotional range of expression, and Deku seems to understand this language implicitly.

I am of the opinion that the narrative is building up to a verbal acknowledgement, confrontation, and subsequent apology that only speaks what has gone unspoken.

That being said, Bakugou is a great example of the way that figures of authority (parents, teachers, adults) and institutions both in the real world and this fictional universe reward violent behavior while also leaving mental and emotional health — both his own and of the people Bakugou hurts — unchecked, and part of the way he lashes out at others is because he was never taught otherwise.

And by that, I’m referring to the ways that are to me, genuinely disturbing. For example, yelling at his friends is chill. But telling someone to kill themselves, even casually and without intent and then misinterpreting everything they do as a ploy to make you feel weak because you're projecting? And having no teachers stop and intervene, either because they are afraid of you or because they value the weight that your Quirk can benefit society over the safety of children? That, to me, is both real and disturbing.

Not only that, but his parents (at least, Mitsuki), respond to his outbursts with more outbursts, and while this is likely the culture of their home and I hesitate to call it abusive, I do think that it contributed to the way that he approaches things. Bakugou as a character is very complex, but I think that he is primarily an example of the way that the Hero System fails people.

I don’t think we can write off the things he’s done, especially using the line of reasoning that “He didn’t mean it that way”, because in real life, children who hurt others rarely mean it like that either, but that doesn’t change the effect it has on the people who are victimized, but to be absolutely fair, I don’t think that the majority of Bakudeku shippers, at least now, do use that line of reasoning. Most of them seem to have a handle on exactly how fucked up the Hero society is, and exactly why it fucks up the people embedded within that society.

The characters are positioned in this way for a reason, and the discoveries made and the development that these characters undergo are meant to reveal more about the fictional world — and, perhaps, our world — as the narrative progresses.

The world of the Hero society is dependent, to some degree, on biopolitics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to suggest that people with Quirks or Quirkless people place enough identity or placement within society to become equivalent to marginalized groups, exactly, but we can draw parallels to the way that Deku and by extent Quirkless people are viewed as weak, a deviation, or disabled in some way. Deviants, or non-productive bodies, are shunned for their inability to perform ideal labor. While it is suggested to Deku that he could become a police officer or pursue some other occupation to help people, he believes that he can do the most positive good as a Hero. In order to be a Hero, however, in the sense of a career, one needs to have Power.

Deviation from the norm will be punished or policed unless it is exploitable; in order to become integrated into society, a deviant must undergo a process of normalization and become a working, exploitable body. It is only through gaining power from All Might that Deku is allowed to assimilate from the margins and into the upper ranks of society; the manga and the anime give the reader enough perspective, context, and examples to allow us to critique and deconstruct the society that is solely reliant on power.

Through his societal privileges, interpersonal biases, internalized complexes, and his subsequent unlearning of these ideologies, Bakugou provides examples of the way that the system simultaneously fails and indoctrinates those who are targeted, neglected, enabled by, believe in, and participate within the system.

Bakudeku are two sides of the same coin. We are shown visually that the crucial turning point and fracture in their relationship is when Bakugou refuses to take Deku’s outstretched hand; the idea of Deku offering him help messes with his adolescent perspective in that Power creates a hierarchy that must be obeyed, and to be helped is to be weak is to be made a loser.

Largely, their character flaws in terms of understanding the hero society are defined and entangled within the concept of power. Bakugou has power, or privilege, but does not have the moral character to use it as a hero, and believes that Power, or winning, is the only way in which to view life. Izuku has a much better grasp on the way in which heroes wield power (their ideologies can, at first, be differentiated as winning vs. saving), and is a worthy successor because of this understanding, and of circumstance. However, in order to become a Hero, our hero must first gain the Power that he lacks, and learn to wield it.

As the characters change, they bridge the gaps of their character deficiencies, and are brought closer together through character parallelism.

Two sides of the same coin, an outstretched hand.

They are better together.

How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

I think it’s fitting that in the manga, a critical part of Bakugou’s arc explicitly alludes to killing the middle school version of himself in order to progress into a young adult. In the alternative covers Horikoshi released, one of them was a close up of Bakugou in his middle school uniform, being stabbed/impaled, with blood rolling out of his mouth. Clearly this references the scene in which he sacrifices himself to save Deku, on a near-instinctual level.

To me, this only cements Horikoshi’s intent that middle school Bakugou must be debunked, killed, discarded, or destroyed in order for Bakugou the hero to emerge, which is why people who do actually excuse his actions or believe that those actions define him into young adulthood don’t really understand the necessity for change, because they seem to imply that he doesn’t need/cannot reach further growth, and there doesn’t need to be a separation between the Bakugou who is, at heart, volatile and repressed the angry, and the Bakugou who sacrifices himself, a hero who saves people.

Plot twist: there does need to be a difference. Further plot twist: there is a difference.

In sacrificing himself for Deku, Bakugou himself doesn't die, but the injury is fatal in the sense that it could've killed him physically and yet symbolizes the selfish, childish part of him that refused to accept Deku, himself, and the inevitability of change. In killing those selfish remnants, he could actually become the kind of hero that we the reader understand to be the true kind.

That’s why I think that a lot of the people who stress his actions as a child without acknowledging the ways he has changed, grown, and tried to fix what he has broken don’t really get it, because it was always part of his character arc to change and purposely become something different and better. If the effects of his worst and his most childish self stick with you more, and linger despite that, that’s okay. But distilling his character down to the wrong elements doesn’t get you the bare essentials; what it gets you is a skewed and shallow version of a person. If you’re okay with that version, that is also fine.

But you can’t condemn others who aren’t fine with that incomplete version, and to become enraged that others do not see him as you do is childish.

Bakugou’s change and the emphasis on that change is canon.

Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

In real life, the idea that “oh, he must bully you because he likes you” is often used as a way to brush aside or to excuse the action of bullying itself, as if a ‘secret crush’ somehow negates the effects of bullying on the victim or the inability of the bully to properly process and manifest their emotions in certain ways. It doesn’t. It often enables young boys to hurt others, and provides figures of authority to overlook the real source of schoolyard bullying or peer review. The “secret crush”, in real life, is used to undermine abuse, justify toxic masculinity, and is essentially used as a non-solution solution.

A common accusation is that Bakudeku shippers jump on the pairing because they romanticize pairing a bully and a victim together, or believe that the only way for Bakugou to atone for his past would be to date Midoryia in the future. This may be true for some people, in which case, that’s their own preference, but based on my experience and what I’ve witnessed, that’s not the case for most.

The difference being is that as these are characters, we as readers or viewers are meant to analyze them. Not to justify them, or to excuse their actions, but we are given the advantage of the outsider perspective to piece their characters together in context, understand why they are how they are, and witness them change; maybe I just haven’t been exposed to enough of the fandom, but no one (I’ve witnessed) treats the idea that “maybe Bakugou has feelings he can’t process or understand and so they manifest in aggressive and unchecked ways'' as a solution to his inability to communicate or process in a healthy way, rather it is just part of the explanation of his character, something is needs to — and is — working through. The solution to his middle school self is not the revelation of a “teehee, secret crush”, but self-reflection, remorse, and actively working to better oneself, which I do believe is canonically reflected, especially as of recently.

In canon, they are written to be partners, better together than apart, and I genuinely believe that one can like the Bakudeku dynamic not by route of romanticization but by observation.

I do think we are meant to see parallels between him and Endeavor; Endeavor is a high profile abuser who embodies the flaws and hypocrisy of the hero system. Bakugou is a schoolyard bully who emulates and internalizes the flaws of this system as a child, likely due to the structure of the society and the way that children will absorb the propaganda they are exposed to; the idea that Quirks, or power, define the inherent value of the individual, their ability to contribute to society, and subsequently their fundamental human worth. The difference between them is the fact that Endeavor is the literal adult who is fully and knowingly active within a toxic, corrupt system who forces his family to undergo a terrifying amount of trauma and abuse while facing little to no consequences because he knows that his status and the values of their society will protect him from those consequences. In other words, Endeavor is the threat of what Bakugou could have, and would have, become without intervention or genuine change.

Comparisons between characters, as parallels or foils, are tricky in that they imply but cannot confirm sameness. Having parallels with someone does not make them the same, by the way, but can serve to illustrate contrasts, or warnings. Harry Potter, for example, is meant to have obvious parallels with Tom Riddle, with similar abilities, and tragic upbringings. That doesn’t mean Harry grows up to become Lord Voldemort, but rather he helps lead a cross-generational movement to overthrow the facist regime. Harry is offered love, compassion, and friends, and does not embrace the darkness within or around him. As far as moldy old snake men are concerned, they do not deserve a redemption arc because they do not wish for one, and the truest of change only occurs when you actively try to change.

To be frank, either way, Bakugou was probably going to become a good Hero, in the sense that Endeavor is a ‘good’ Hero. Hero capitalized, as in a pro Hero, in the sense that it is a career, an occupation, and a status. Because of his strong Quirk, determination, skill, and work ethic, Bakugou would have made a good Hero. Due to his lack of character, however, he was not on the path to become a hero; defender of the weak, someone who saves people to save people, who is willing to make sacrifices detrimental to themselves, who saves people out of love.

It is necessary for him to undergo both a redemption arc and a symbolic death and rebirth in order for him to follow the path of a hero, having been inspired and prompted by Deku.

I personally don’t really like Endeavor’s little redemption arc, not because I don’t believe that people can change or that they shouldn't at least try to atone for the atrocities they have committed, but because within any narrative, a good redemption arc is important if it matters; what also matters is the context of that arc, and whether or not it was needed. For example, in ATLA, Zuko’s redemption arc is widely regarded as one of the best arcs in television history, something incredible. And it is. That shit fucks. In a good way.

It was confirmed that Azula was also going to get a redemption arc, had Volume 4 gone on as planned, and it was tentatively approached in the comics, which are considered canon. She is an undeniably bad person (who is willing to kill, threaten, exploit, and colonize), but she is also a child, and as viewers, we witness and recognize the factors that contributed to her (debatable) sociopathy, and the way that the system she was raised in failed her. Her family failed her; even Uncle Iroh, the wise mentor who helps guide Zuko to see the light, is willing to give up on her immediately, saying that she’s “crazy” and needs to be “put down”. Yes, it’s comedic, and yes, it’s pragmatic, but Azula is fourteen years old. Her mother is banished, her father is a psychopath, and her older brother, from her perspective, betrayed and abandoned her. She doesn’t have the emotional support that Zuko does; she exploits and controls her friends because it’s all she’s been taught to do; she says herself, her “own mother thought [she] was a monster; she was right, of course, but it still [hurts]”. A parent who does not believe in you, or a parent that uses you and will hurt you, is a genuine indicator of trauma.

The writers understood that both Zuko and Azula deserved redemption arcs. One was arguably further gone than the other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are both children, products of their environment, who have the time, motive, and reason to change.

In contrast, you know who wouldn’t have deserved a redemption arc? Ozai. That simply would not have been interesting, wouldn’t have served the narrative well, and honestly, is not needed, thematically or otherwise. Am I comparing Ozai to Endeavor? Basically, yes. Fuck those guys. I don’t see a point in Endeavor’s little “I want to be a good dad now” arc, and I think that we don’t need to sympathize with characters in order to understand them or be interested in them. I want Touya/Dabi to expose his abuse, for his career to crumble, and then for him to die.

If they are not challenging the system that we the viewer are meant to question, and there is no thematic relevance to their redemption, is it even needed?

On that note, am I saying that Bakugou is the equivalent to Zuko? No, lmao. Definitely not. They are different characters with different progressions and different pressures. What I am saying is that good redemption arcs shouldn’t be handed out like candy to babies; it is the quality, rather than the quantity, that makes a redemption arc good. In terms of the commentary of the narrative, who needs a redemption arc, who is deserving, and who does it make sense to give one to?

In this case, Bakugou checks those boxes. It was always in the cards for him to change, and he has. In fact, he’s still changing.

Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

There does seem to be an urge to obsessively gender either Bakugou or Deku, in making Deku the ultra-feminine, stereotypically hyper-sexualized “woman” of the relationship, with Bakugou becoming similarly sexualized but depicted as the hyper-masculine bodice ripper. On some level, that feels vaguely homophobic if not straight up misogynistic, in that in a gay relationship there’s an urge to compel them to conform under heteronormative stereotypes in order to be interpreted as real or functional. On one hand, I will say that in a lot of cases it feels like more of an expression of a kink, or fetishization and subsequent expression of internalized misogyny, at least, rather than a genuine exploration of the complexity and power imbalances of gender dynamics, expression, and boundaries.

That being said, I don’t think that that problematic aspect of shipping is unique to Bakudeku, or even to the fandom in general. We’ve all read fan work or see fanart of most gay ships in a similiar manner, and I think it’s a broader issue to be addressed than blaming it on a singular ship and calling it a day.

One interpretation of Bakugou’s character is his repression and the way his character functions under toxic masculinity, in a society’s egregious disregard for mental and emotional health (much like in the real world), the horrifying ways in which rage is rationalized or excused due to the concept of masculinity, and the way that characteristics that are associated with femininity — intellect, empathy, anxiety, kindness, hesitation, softness — are seen as stereotypically “weak”, and in men, traditionally emasculating. In terms of the way that the fictional universe is largely about societal priority and power dynamics between individuals and the way that extends to institutions, it’s not a total stretch to guess that gender as a construct is a relevant topic to expand on or at least keep in mind for comparison.

I think that the way in which characters are gendered and the extent to which that is a result of invasive heteronormativity and fetishization is a really important conversation to have, but using it as a case-by-case evolution of a ship used to condemn people isn’t conductive, and at that point, it’s treated as less of a real concern but an issue narrowly weaponised.

Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

Another thing I think could be elaborated on and written about in great detail is the way that the Eastern part of the fandom and the Western part of the fandom have such different perspectives on Bakudeku in particular. I am not going to go in depth with this, and there are many other people who could go into specifics, but just as an overview:

The manga and the anime are created for and targeted at a certain audience; our take on it will differ based on cultural norms, decisions in translation, understanding of the genre, and our own region-specific socialization. This includes the way in which we interpret certain relationships, the way they resonate with us, and what we do and do not find to be acceptable. Of course, this is not a case-by-case basis, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who hold differing beliefs within one area, but speaking generally, there is a reason that Bakudeku is not regarded as nearly as problematic in the East.

Had this been written by a Western creator, marketed primarily to and within the West (for reference, while I am Chinese, but I have lived in the USA for most of my life, so my own perspective is undoubtedly westernized), I would’ve immediately jumped to make comparisons between the Hero System and the American police system, in that a corrupt, or bastardized system is made no less corrupt for the people who do legitimately want to do good and help people, when that system disproportionately values and targets others while relying on propaganda that society must be reliant on that system in order to create safe communities when in reality it perpetuates just as many issues as it appears to solve, not to mention the way it attracts and rewards violent and power-hungry people who are enabled to abuse their power. I think comparisons can still be made, but in terms of analysis, it should be kept in mind that the police system in other parts of the world do not have the same history, place, and context as it does in America, and the police system in Japan, for example, probably wasn’t the basis for the Hero System.

As much as I do believe in the Death of the Author in most cases, the intent of the author does matter when it comes to content like this, if merely on the basis that it provides context that we may be missing as foreign viewers.

As far as the intent of the author goes, Bakugou is on a route of redemption.

He deserves it. It is unavoidable. That, of course, may depend on where you’re reading this.

Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

If there’s one thing, to me, that epitomizes middle school Bakugou, it’s him being trapped in a sludge monster, rescued by his Quirkless childhood friend, and unable to believe his eyes. He clings to the ideology he always has, that Quirkless means weak, that there’s no way that Deku could have grown to be strong, or had the capacity to be strong all along. Bakugou is wrong about this, and continuously proven wrong. It is only when he accepts that he is wrong, and that Deku is someone to follow, that he starts his real path to heroics.

If Bakudeku’s relationship does not appeal to someone for whatever reason, there’s nothing wrong with that. They can write all they want about why they don’t ship it, or why it bothers them, or why they think it’s problematic. If it is legitimately triggering to you, then by all means, avoid it, point it out, etc. but do not undermine the reality of abuse simply to point fingers, just because you don’t like a ship. People who intentionally use the anti tag knowing it’ll show up in the main tag, go after people who are literally minding their own business, and accuse people of supporting abuse are the ones looking for a fight, and they’re annoying as hell because they don’t bring anything to the table. No evidence, no analysis, just repeated projection.

To clarify, I’m referring to a specific kind of shipper, not someone who just doesn’t like a ship, but who is so aggressive about it for absolutely no reason. There are plenty of very lovely people in this fandom, who mind their own business, multipship, or just don’t care.

Calling shippers dumb or braindead or toxic (to clarify, this isn’t targeting any one person I’ve seen, but a collective) based on projections and generalizations that come entirely from your own impression of the ship rather than observation is...really biased to me, and comes across as uneducated and trigger happy, rather than constructive or helpful in any way.

I’m not saying someone has to ship anything, or like it, in order to be a ‘good’ participant. But inserting derogatory material into a main tag, and dropping buzzwords with the same tired backing behind it without seeming to understand the implications of those words or acknowledging the development, pacing, and intentional change to the characters within the plot is just...I don’t know, it comes across as redundant, to me at least, and very childish. Aggressive. Toxic. Problematic. Maybe the real toxic shippers were the ones who bitched and moaned along the way. They’re like little kids, stuck in the past, unable to visualize or recognize change, and I think that’s a real shame because it’s preventing them from appreciating the story or its characters as it is, in canon.

But that’s okay, really. To each their own. Interpretations will vary, preferences differ, perspectives are not uniform. There is no one truth. There are five seasons of the show, a feature film, and like, thirty volumes as of this year.

All I’m saying is that if you want to stay stuck in the first season of each character, then that’s what you’re going to get. That’s up to you.

This may be edited or revised.

#bakudeku #meta #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #ok these are just my general thoughts in response to the people who have hang ups about this ship #like y’all need to pls chill tf out ok #this is also not comprehensive and could definitely be elaborated on #but it’s just general thoughts #it’s just addressing general opposition I’ve seen #I never thought I’d ever write this much about this ship wtf

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

False Protection

Warning: a little angst fluff from a certain Dummy.

Masterlist

---

False Protection

“You complete and total blockhead Yuki!” The bed chamber’s door slid back so fast he felt the room tremble and thought the wall might fall down. His usually smiling wife was red-faced furious and looking at him like a wild animal.

“Blockhead! Blockhead! Blockhead! Hehe!” Bouncing around her ankles was their daughter happily chanting her mother’s insult.

“Hey! I’m the only one that gets to call your father that. You just call him Daddy.” Her tone had softened as she spoke to their child it felt strange to see the shift given how angry she had been seconds before.

Yukimura sat bewildered on the futon. His armour was carefully assembled on its stand in the room again but he suddenly wanted to don it for whatever protection it might give against his Princess on a rampage.

“Hey calm down!”

“Calm – Calm down? How can you tell me to do that?” He saw many things during battle. Many things he couldn’t unsee and things he also hated, still it hurt every time. But nothing compared to seeing his wife lose her smile and her eyes swimming with unshed tears. She turned again to their child and continued talking to her “Sweetheart can you go find Uncle Sasuke and play with him for a bit please?”

“But I wanna see Daddy!” The little girl pouted and crossed her arms across her chest in the most adorable way.

“I know but right now grown-ups need to talk first you can see Daddy in a little bit ok?” Aerion bent down and stroked the little girl’s hair.

“Promise?” The child turned her big blue eyes up at her mother.

“Promise.”

Apparently happy with this the child turned around and began to scamper down the corridor outside calling for Sasuke. Yukimura might have laughed at that had he not already fallen victim once more to his wife’s glare that had him pinned in place.

“What do you think you were doing?” Aerion asked as soon as their child was out of earshot.

“It was a battle. You know what I was doing.” Yukimura attempted to shrug only to be reminded of the tight bandages binding his torso and the pain from trying to move the torn muscle structure of his body.

“I would have excepted something like this from Masa but not from my own husband.” Aerion grumbled pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes scrunched shut. It was bad enough that he knew he had indirectly hurt her but to have her bring up another guy at this time was almost beyond the limit for him too.

“Could you not bring up your ‘brother’ right now? And I told you I’m fine. I’m still here aren’t I?” His words came out harsher than he intended and instantly regretted it when she opened her eyes and he could see they were wetter than before.

“In how many pieces?” Her voice was forced control. She was managing to keep the trembling out of it allowing it to stay even. “I would never tell you not to fight. I don’t tell you what to do any more than you would tell me. But please dear you have to try to at least think of it from my point of view when you get home.”

“Stop being a dummy you worry too much. I’ve had far worse injuries over the years and I’m fine.” Yukimura had shifted into his defiant offensive state if for no other reason than he felt like his wife was overreacting.

“Would you like to see me injured?” Aerion asked the question quietly as she turned her head to his armour. Her eyes raked over it taking in every piece of damage and bloodstain.

“WHAT!? OF COURSE NOT! What a stupid question. I fight so I can protect you why the hell would I want to see you hurt?” He raised his voice completely unable to control the panic in it.

“Then why is it so hard to understand that I DON’T like to see YOU hurt either? When are you going to get it into that thick head of yours that when you hurt I hurt too?” Aerion spat out those words without even looking at him and spun around on the spot slamming the sliding door shut behind her as she left.

*

“Mummy, Mummy!” The little girl ran up to her mother her pink hakama sporting a couple of stains that resembled grass and mud. “Sasuke was showing me how to avoid kunai!”

“Was he now? Well don’t let your father know that or he’ll hit the roof.” Aerion chuckled as she looked at the little girl’s beaming smile.

“I pride myself on my training and skill to know at no point did what I was doing mean that the little Princess was ever in danger.” Sasuke appeared out of nothingness at their side bringing with him a feeling of secure calm like a soft breeze.

“As expected from the best Ninja I know.” Aerion smiled at her friend ignoring the slight blush he had on his face for a few seconds.

“Mummy, can I go get some cake now?” Her daughter asked pulling on the hem of her kimono.

“You haven’t had dinner yet.” Attempting to give a show of resistance to the idea Aerion quickly changed tactic and bent down to whisper in the child’s ear. “Fine but don’t tell Daddy.”

“YAY!”

Taking off running at full speed Aerion watched and laughed noting that her daughter once more was barefoot and the dirt on the hakama was nothing to the mud under it.

“You don’t look any less stressed than before.” Sasuke watched the little Princess run away as well a smile on his face.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you are naturally this observant or if it’s something you picked up in training.” Aerion sighed and plonked down on the grass, drawing her knees up to her chin.

“A little of both.” Sasuke said as he joined her. Sitting a respectable distance away whilst still being close enough that he could speak to her without shouting. “Let me guess he didn’t exactly open up when you spoke to him and probably said something that made it all worse.”

“You know him too well. I wouldn’t exactly say he said something that made it worse I mean he was just Yuki being Yuki.” Aerion shrugged.

“Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking you BFF that?” Aerion looked over her shoulder at him her hair falling loose from her head. It never stayed put in any style it was something he loved about her. It summed her up in a simple way. A force that was not easy to control.

“I am. You are both my BFFs. Besides Yukimura tends to look after himself in these situations if he wants me he calls. You Aerion tend to brood and not say anything.” Sasuke announced his observation flatly and adjusted his glasses in an effort to distract his mind from venturing down a path he had long since given up on following.

“Are you trying to pick a fight?” Aerion laughed swatting his shoulder lightly.

“Not at all. I was pointing out that my two BFF’s are a perfect pair. I actually admire your tenacity and strength to continue with it.” At his words, her eyes widened before turning away from him and focusing their gaze on something far away.

“That’s a nice way of calling me stubborn and stupid. Thanks, Sasuke.”

“Whatever for?”

“Just being here.” She lowered her chin onto her knees and fell silent again.

“I’ll always be here for you Aerion.”

*

Paperwork felt like it was recreating itself faster than he could finish it. It had been a week since the last battle and a few days since his wife had yelled at him in their room. She had not returned once she left which allowed his own head to stew and mull over what had been said.

All he had ever wanted to do was keep her safe and protect her. He wanted to be strong enough to do that and when they had their child to those feelings only intensified. How did it come to this?

-Sigh-

Rubbing his shoulder with one hand he let his brush drop on the desk. Little flecks of ink splattered from its bristles as it rolled. He was tired and sore and the one thing he needed…. Wanted… was avoiding him for the time being.

“That was a big sigh”

“Ah! Oh, for hell’s sake Sasuke don’t make me jump like that it hurts!” Yukimura whipped around on his cushion and glared at his friend.

“Sorry.”

“Something tells me you’re not really being sincere.” Yukimura huffed retrieving his brush and placing it by the inkstone.

“You got me.” Sasuke came closer and took a seat looking at the papers on the desk momentarily before continuing. “Yukimura you are one of the most straight forward, determined and historically amazing people I know.”

“… thanks I guess.”

“But you are also not very honest with your own feelings. Easily embarrassed and blunter than a ladle.”

“Hey!” Sasuke’s rare show of uncandid fault-finding had caused him to shout.

“Can you deny that?”

“This is about Aerion isn’t it? Did she send you here?” Ignoring the rest of his papers for the time being Yuki huffed like his daughter and once more took on a defensive attitude.

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t. I am here because whilst I am aware that you two will make up sooner or later there is another factor that cannot be allowed to be affected anymore by this state of affairs.”

“There you go talking in riddles again.” In all the years he had known Sasuke he knew enough to know that the guy meant well even if there were times when he made no sense with what he was saying. It wasn’t his fault but Yukimura had wondered what village would teach someone to talk like he did.

“I’m talking about your daughter. Aerion knows that she is to coin a modern term a ‘Daddy’s girl’ and has done everything she can to shield the child from realising you are not only injured but have been away from home for work for a while.” What Sasuke was saying was nothing but the truth. Yuki knew that and it was also why it was so hard to argue against it. This was wrong he knew that too but it was difficult to move forward and correct things when you were facing someone who could be just as stubborn and bull-headed on a topic as you could.

“She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Oh? And how much do you think a child can comprehend of a grown-up’s misfortune?” Sasuke asked the question before he could stop himself. He knew from watching Yuki that he had been brooding just as must as his wife. Things had been said and both were hurt. “I’m not asking you to do much Yukimura but I cannot take seeing my only two BFF’s in this world silently fighting. It is only a matter of time before your daughter figures it out as well.” Sasuke decided to leave before saying anything else on the topic. He trusted his friend to know when to make the first move and find his wife. But there were times when he needed that little shove of a reminder to make the move sooner rather than later.

*

It was much later than dinner when he managed to make it back to their room. The lanterns had been lit by the maids but he knew there was a good chance it would be empty on his return.

He had never been good with emotional women. There was something about them that scared him. They were more erratic than an angry wild boar, but that was not the main reason. The main reason he found them so scary was the feeling of helplessness he had when looking at them screaming and crying. The knowledge that he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears and make it all better no matter how much he tried to sent him back in time to being a helpless little boy watching his home burning.

Ghosts of the past passing over his current life as if they were shadows. Masking the light of the sun and plunging his thoughts into darkness. His hand stopped before it could touch the door and he cast his eyes out into the gardens of the castle.

Bathing in the moonlight the plants and rocks looked mystical. The way the colours changed and glowed had him thinking of far off lands and tales from the past. Places where mythical creatures dwelled waiting for unsuspecting humans.

Under the tree by the reflecting pool stood the figure of someone he knew all too well. His wife. In a land of moonlight, she probably fitted in all too well but it did make him want to run to her side to remind her to come home again. To follow him back to where the sunlight could find her. Something about her standing there alone made him think of all that. She suddenly looked fragile. His strong stubborn love in the silvery rays.  

“Aerion!” He called out before he could reach her and was a little pleased when she turned to him giving him a faint smile.

“That’s my name.” Her blue eyes looked almost grey in the muted light, but her white hair sparkled like starlight.

“What are you doing out here? You’re going to catch a cold.” Yukimura removed his own haori and wrapped her up tight inside it.

“You finally remembered one thing Shingen told you then?” She made no attempt to brush away his hands as they touched her chilled skin instead she teased him as she always did.

“Don’t start. Look I –”

“I’m sorry.” She cut him off before he could speak.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I realise its hard for you too and I was kind of only thinking of things from my side but I can’t hold back with you sometimes. You never tell me what you are really thinking and half of what you do I don’t find out about until it’s happened. You probably think it’s protecting me but it’s not. I want to know I want you to tell me I don’t care if it seems insignificant to you. I want to know Yuki I can’t take not knowing and then having to deal with curveballs out of nowhere.” Everything came flowing out of her in a giant torrent. Every thought and feeling she had been masking on full display at a speed that made his own head spin.

“Hey hey calm down.” He was at a loss as to what to do and settled on grabbing her and giving her a hug. Pressing her face into his chest as he stroked her hair. She could probably feel his own heart pounding but he couldn’t care less about that right now. “Dummy I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere I’m sorry I know I stressed you I didn’t mean to make it happen like that.”

“Promise me you won’t do it again. You said we were in this together. You said we are a team remember?” Her muffled voice was so earnest as she spoke it made him smile. She was back where she belonged. He had her by his side and she would be in the sun with him tomorrow as always.

“Yeah, I do. Of course, I do. I promise. I’m sorry too.”

---

[saskiel]

The pretty little dress

A short KakaSaku story that I wrote and released both on ff.net and ao3 (you can find me on both under the name Saskiel).

This is a modern AU story. Songs which inspired me during the story are Lost On You by LP, Ring My Bells by Enrique Iglesias and Uncover by Zara Larsson

I hope that you will enjoy the story and if you do, please lemme know what you liked about it ^^

It has been five months. Less than half a year after Sasuke has unceremonially dumped her. They have been together for seven years, being the high school sweethearts and all, before he decided that they were no longer the people they used to be. Sure, they've changed, but Sakura was not dumb enough to understand his message of "I am done with this relationship".

She allowed herself to mope around for a while after he moved out of their apartment that they've found during college. Sasuke left all of the pictures that had both of them in the frame, only taking the ones which didn't have Sakura. She didn't notice during his swift packing, but after a few days of staring at their young faces, it felt like a slap in the face.

After that, Ino felt Sakura should be already over the Uchiha and decided that she would help out. In a very Ino-way.

„Hey girlfriend! We are heading out tonight! No excuses! I will be picking you up at 8 and I am bringing a dress for you with me. Ciao!" Ino's voice sounded way too enthusiastic in the voice mail, Sakura concluded. But unless she was ready to change her address right now, she knew the blonde would not leave her alone.

Glancing at the clock, Sakura's brows knitted together. If she left work now, she would still have some time at home for a bath before the dreaded night out and possibly she could squeeze in pizza delivery if she put in the order on her way home. Turning the laptop off, Sakura got up and stretched her arms, noting the lack of other people in the office. Once again, she was the last one to leave work. A small sigh left her lips as she picked up her belongings, ready to make her way out.

xx

„You cannot be serious, Pig, I own kitchen towels which have more fabric than this," Sakura was turning the skimpy dress in her hands before making it into a ball which fit into her fist, waving it in front of the blonde to make her point.

"Stop being melodramatic and put it on," grabbing both her shoulders, Ino turned the pinkette around and pushed her in the direction of the bedroom.

Sakura decided to send her one more death glare for a good measure before closing the door and stripping down, the clothing in question laid out on her bed, silently judging her choice of underwear. It was a strapless dress which would expose her legs from mid-thigh down. It had a heavy wrinkle design which was pleasant to the touch, not to mention the deep forest green color, which indicated that Ino bought this specifically for Sakura, since the blonde had exactly zero green clothes in her wardrobe.

It wasn't that the dress was bad looking, but it was a lot more revealing than she was used to. Sasuke once mentioned that girls that revealed this much were trying too hard. Sakura always wanted to please him and so she never got any that would reach higher than just above her knees.

But no matter how much she didn't wear them, it apparently wasn't enough. Or not enough for him, in any case.

With that thought, Sakura slipped the dress over her head, surprised at how comfy it felt. Her bubblegum hair was already blow-dried and styled for the night, the longest part of her bob almost touching her collar bone. Her fingertips traced the freckles on her bare shoulders, not even sure when this part of her body was exposed to this degree.

The dress was hugging her body tightly, showing off her narrow waist. Although she didn't have the picture-perfect hourglass figure, her hips were wide enough to be pleasing to the eye. In terms of breasts, Sakura never really had much, but it never bothered her. It made it easier since she wouldn't be able to wear a bra, the top of the dress is secured only with elastic lining on the inside edge.

Sakura was looking at herself in the full-body length mirror which was next to her bed. She couldn't remember the last time her body looked so womanly. For the first time in months, she had a sense of hope.

Ino chose this moment to knock at the door shortly, before marching through them, not bothering to wait for a reply.

"Damn, you hot! I am telling you, we are getting you some action tonight, men won't be able to take their eyes off your butt," she said, plopping herself on Sakura's bed.

"So, you really don't think this is too revealing?"

"For once, just show what you've got – you can wear your virgin clothes some other day," Ino picked at her nails, already dressed in a purple summer dress. Her long hair loose and her make-up done perfectly, she was ready for a party. "Should I do your make-up?"

"Sure. Better you do it, I could possibly make it look virgin," Sakura snapped at her friend with no real heat.

Ino just clapped her hands, excited. "We will make you into an absolute 10 out of 10," she said before running off to get her make-up bag.

xx

And that is how Sakura ended up in a night club, sitting at the bar, alone, sipping on a cocktail. Her friend was nowhere to be found for the last hour. She remembered seeing her hot and heavy with some man on the dancefloor, he was definitely Ino's type. If they were still in the club, it would most likely be in a dark corner in a make-out session, but Sakura doubted they haven't left yet.

She herself thought of leaving some time ago, but the beats were a welcomed change of pace from her usual string of reality shows and pjs. Plus, there were drinks. However, no number of fruity cocktails would keep her here for another hour, she promised herself as well as her wallet.

Tapping her heel to the rhythm of the current song, Sakura glanced over the people lost to the dance. She smiled to herself, toying with the idea of joining them before going home. Just as she was about to get up, her eyes spotted a familiar face in the crowd and she stilled on the bar chair, shocked.

His hair shiny jet-black hair was reflecting the blues and reds of the flickering lights as he was making his way through the crowd. With a white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and dark jeans, Sakura could not deny Sasuke's good looks.

What she also couldn't deny was the redhead firmly attached to his side, holding hands with him. And her luck, as it would seem, did not end there, she thought sourly when Sasuke started moving in her direction at the bar, making direct eye contact with her.

"Sakura, I didn't know this was your kind of scene," he said when they reached her. His staredown made the pinkette straighten up in her seat, suddenly conscious of her exposed legs.

"What can I say, I've been broadening my horizons lately," her hand brushed over the hem of her dress, pretending it needed adjusting.

"Sasuke-kun, let's dance!" the redhead glued to his arm whined, clearly upset with the other female who her boyfriend was giving attention. Said boyfriend continued to stare at his ex-girlfriend, seemingly content with the staring contest they were having.

Sakura was cursing Ino in her mind with some very colorful words when she noticed a flash of silver hair next to Sasuke. She's seen this man at the bar earlier tonight, he seemed to be there alone, just like herself. Without giving it much thought, she slid down from her chair and reached for the man's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey there, babe, what took you so long? I thought we agreed on going to dance to the next song?" she said, a pleading look in her eyes, now that her back was towards Sasuke.

He first glanced behind her before taking in her desperate expression. To Sakura's luck, he was able to put two and two together quickly and seemed willing to help her out.

"Sorry, kitten, have I been gone that long? I haven't noticed," he took her hand in his, leading her away from a very confused Sasuke.

Before they even reached the dance floor, her mystery man pushed her into a twirl before pulling her flush back to his body. Sakura wasn't the best dancer, but she took classes during high school just like the rest of the girls in her class, so she was able to follow his lead. He was making it easy for her, but not easy enough to allow her looking back to the spot where they left Sasuke and his new prize.

When she almost blindly reached out for help, she didn't expect to find this. Her dance partner was moving both of them with the grace of a professional dancer. Very soon Sakura's body relaxed into the movements, nearly forgetting the awkward exchange that happened less than two minutes ago.

The fast-paced beat was replaced by a slow melody of a song that Sakura didn't recognize, but it gave her the time needed to check that her ex was no longer at the bar. She withdrew from the silver-haired man, only to have him tug her back. His right hand rested securely on her back, pulling her closer to his body, as he lowered his head to her ear.

"He is still watching us, they are at the tables next to the bar."

They fell into an easy-going step, the man moving them across the floor in tiny circles so that Sakura could see for herself the male glaring at them, with his girlfriend sitting next to him, talking to him and stroking his arm. His staring made Sakura feel on edge, once again.

"Thank you," she said back, taking her eyes off Sasuke. "I am Sakura, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, kitten," he smiled down at her, the lack of his name not lost on Sakura. She decided to let it go, for now, he has been helping her, after all. She wasn't gonna grill him about manners when she practically threw herself on him.

"So, I take it there was trouble in paradise?"

"Apparently," she said with a sad smile. "I wasn't aware of it until the paradise was over."

"I'd say it's his loss, then," there was a wolfish grin on the mystery's man face, which made Sakura chuckle.

"Is this how you pick up girls in bars, huh?"

"Only those," he made her make another twirl for him, before bringing her back, "who ask for a savior," his grin was infectious, the warmth of his palm seeping through her dress just above her backside.

Her cheeks felt warm and she knew for sure that she was blushing, the thumb of his hand rubbing circles on her back. His scent filled her nose as she got even closer to him. He smelled of misty mornings in the pine forest. They danced for the rest of the song, his chin rested on the crown of her head, both lost in their own thoughts.

"How about I get you a drink, Sakura," it wasn't a command, but he wasn't asking her either. She smiled at him and nod, once again following his lead as they ventured to the bar. Her mystery man ordered a whisky for himself and one of those fruity cocktails she was having earlier.

"How did you know I was drinking these?" Sakura asked while the bartender was preparing their drinks.

"I might have seen you before, it's hard to miss you in that pretty little dress," the wink he gave her left Sakura speechless before she laughs out loud. When their drinks arrived, there was still a smile on her face. She raised her glass to make a toast.

"To pretty little dress."

"To pretty little dress," he echoed her words as their glasses clinked together.

xx

"So, let me recap this," Sakura said, pointing her glass at the man sitting next to her. "You used to be a Latin dancer but then your partner got knocked up and you completely stopped with the competitions? And now you are... A teacher? How does one go from an athlete to a teacher - of geography of all subject?!"

The silver-haired man chuckled. "After Kurenai, my dance partner got pregnant, I realized that I was competing more for her than for myself. As for how does one become a teacher, well, a good friend of mine is the principal of a high-school and they needed someone to teach classes for a short period of time and it kind of just… Stuck, I suppose," he shrugged.

Sakura shook her head, a smile on her lips. After she graduated from college, she got hired in a company where she already worked part-time during her studies. She never had any interesting jobs before that. Maybe it was the sweet liquor on her tongue, but it's been ages since she met someone as interesting as the men who only called her "kitten". She wanted to know more.

"Why do you go to the bars, then?"

"For dancing, of course," his reply confused her.

"But, you just said that -"

"I said that I no longer wanted to compete, not that I stopped liking dance," he interrupted her with a knowing smile.

"Ah, I guess that makes sense," she said, feeling a little silly that this wouldn't occur to her.

They spent a few moments in comfortable silence, each sipping on their drink. Sakura would sometimes cast glances at the man and look away as soon as he would give her a questioning look. After this happened for the third time, Sakura stood up and excused herself. Her steps were just slightly unsteady as she walked past the dancing crowd, in search of the toilets. They were easy to spot with a bunch of girls in front of them, so Sakura took her place at the end of the line.

xx

The wait felt like an eternity, but Sakura would soon be the next one to go, just two more girls in front of her at the moment.

Sakura's foot tapped in the rhythm of the song, mindlessly, as she hypnotized the door with her gaze. Why do bars only have one toilet for women, anyway? It made no sense.

Finally, the door opened and a red-head came out. Sakura didn't immediately recognize her, merely happy that she was almost the one to go there. Unfortunately for her, the girl did notice her.

"Who are you and why does Sasuke-kun keep looking at you?!" she barked out, folding her arms over her chest as she stared at Sakura, who was caught of guard completely.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you dense? I asked you who you are and why is Sasuke-kun so interested in you?"

Sakura finally pieced it together. She looked at the girl in front of her more closely. Her hair was loosely falling around her face, touching her shoulders. Her eyes, hidden behind red-trimmed glasses, were angry and there was a pout on her lips. She was wearing a black tight-fitting dress with sequences all over it, reflecting the multi-colored lights flashing from the dance floor.

"I doubt that Sasuke is interested in me, seeing as we broke up," Sakura said, folding her own arms. She did not appreciate the deadly glare from the trophy-girlfriend of her ex.

The red-head squinted her eyes before she snorted. "You were with Sasuke-kun? That's rich as if he would ever notice someone like you."

Sakura watched as her body language changed. Before, the red-head was angry, holding herself close. But now, her hands were on her hips as she laughed, spewing mean comments.

"He would never be with someone who is so small, also the color of your hair, is that supposed to be a joke? And don't even get me started on -"

"Well, I am sure that you are a much better fit for him than I was for the last-seven-years," she interrupted the string of criticism that was being thrown at her. "So, how about you run back to your boyfriend now and leave me alone, yes?"

The red-head was left speechless as Sakura took off, finally her turn to use the toilet. She didn't see the girl huff and puff away, but she felt proud of herself at that moment.

xx

When Sakura returned, she found her silver-haired man at the bar, basically the same spot she left him. He turned around, seemingly in search of her. It made her smile and she waved at him as she got in his hearing distance.

"Wanna do some more dancing?" she asked, standing next to him.

"How could I ever turn down such a request, kitten" he replied, his eyes smiling.

Hopping off his bar stool, he took her hand in his and together they made their way back to the dance floor. Soon after that, they were lost in the movement, enjoying each others company. Sakura still couldn't believe that she asked most likely the only man in here who was an actual dancer to be her ticket out of the awkward situation with her ex.

They barely danced for ten minutes when the upbeat tune got replaced by a slow song. And another after that.

It has been the third song that Sakura was securely held by the man, swaying in the slow rhythm. His hand was keeping her close to his body, only occasionally spinning her under his arm. He clearly enjoyed the way it made her laugh.

It took her a bit of time to recognize the song that was currently playing in the background of her happy moment.

Burning like embers, falling, tender… Long before the days of no surrender… Years ago and well you know…

Sakura's gaze made it's way to the spot where Sasuke was sitting nearly the whole evening. He was talking to his new girlfriend. She couldn't help but recall what the red-head had told her not even half an hour ago.

All I ever wanted was you… I'll never go to heaven 'Cause I don't know how…

"What's your name?" she asked, looking up in the dark eyes of her dance partner. She wasn't pleading.

Let's raise a glass or two… To all the things I've lost on you…

"Kakashi."

Tell me are they lost on you… Oh oh… Just that you could cut me loose…

"Let's get out of here, Kakashi," taking his hand in hers, Sakura made her way to the front door, not looking back.

After everything I've lost on you… Is that lost on you? Baby, is that lost on you?

xx

She didn't have a plan, far from it. She acted on an impulse and now her head refused to work properly, making everything seem a bit hazy. Once they got out of the bar, Kakashi hailed down a taxi for them. When they were seated in the back of the car, he gave the driver an address.

Sakura was looking out of the window as the car started moving. Their inter-twined hands were between them. Kakashi slightly squeezed her to bring attention to him. When she looked at him, he asked her if everything was alright.

"Yes, actually," she said, smiling at him.

She was in a taxi with a man she just met tonight. If Sasuke did not show up, she would likely never asked him to dance. But he did and she was now driving to, presumably, his home. It was the most impulsive decision she has done in months, if not years. She realized that she was absolutely okay with it as she watched the worry leave his face after the reply she gave him.

She released his hand just to be able to get closer to him. "Everything is more than alright," her fingers played with a button on his shirt. She cast him a glance between her eyelashes, mere inches from his face.

Kakashi did not leave her waiting for long. Putting his hand into her pink locks, he closed the distance between their lips. She could taste the faint traces of whisky he drank that evening as they kissed, unhurriedly.

She felt his athletic body under the shirt, enjoying the way he held her close. Even with the slow pace, there was a hunger to his kisses, something that was thrilling to Sakura. Shifting her body, she was now sitting on his lap, her small frame fitting nicely as he circled his arms around her to keep her firmly in place.

It was also her who deepened the kiss. She felt his fingers dig into her back as he let out an appreciative grunt, adjusting to their new position. They only left each other's lips to draw some air, in those moments they would look into each other's eyes, the palm-able attraction making both of them excited.

xx

She was still on Kakashi's lap when the taxi came to stop. She made her way off of him, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment as he paid the driver. They left the car and he lead her to the front door of one of the buildings that were on the street. She took a quick look around while Kakashi fished for his keys.

It looked like a nice neighborhood, this street was well lit and she could see a few shops, which were closed now, but their fronts were casting light on the street. Kakashi lived in a three-story building which was part of the block. It seemed old but cared for.

He unlocked the door and motioned for her to go in first, closing behind them.

"All the way up," he said.

They were silent as they walked up. Sakura couldn't shake the feeling that he was staring at her butt and before she could stop herself, she added an extra sway to her hips. When she reached the top of the second floor, she turned around and sure enough, his eyes were firmly glued to her backside. It made something primal stir within her.

When they reached the top floor, the pinkette moved out of the way and Kakashi moved to the door at the right side of the small, square hallway. He entered the apartment, turning on the light and walking towards the small table which had a small bowl, presumably for keys, since he put his there.

Sakura followed him into the room, taking a quick look around. They were in a small living room, judging by the TV and a comfy-looking sofa. All the furniture was in off-white color with light gray elements. There was a splash of turquoise in the form of a few throw pillows and an abstract painting on the opposite wall. There was no window here, but from where she stood she could see the entrance to the kitchen on her left side, where the whole wall was almost entirely out of glass. To her right were two more rooms, she assumed one of them would be the bedroom.

Sakura looked back at Kakashi, who was still standing by the coffee table, his back to her. She switched the lights back off, making him turn his head. She closed the door behind her without dropping eye contact with him, leaning against his front door. The only light was coming from the street through the kitchen window, making Sakura visible to Kakashi. Biting her bottom lip, Sakura reached for the zipper at her back, the sound of her dress being undone carrying through the quiet apartment. Letting it fall off her body, she pushed it aside with her heel. She watched him take in her nearly-naked form as she trailed her fingers over the black lace of her panties. He was mostly cast in shadows for her, but she could swear she saw him gulp when her own hand brushed over her nipple, finally releasing her bottom lift. Raising her other hand, she beckoned him to her.

He hesitated for a split second, but then he made his way to her waiting body and like a predator capturing his prey, he started kissing her. The way he was keeping her bare back against the wood, his hands roaming from her hips to her breasts, made Sakura moan. She could feel his cock pressing into the flesh of her belly. Sneaking her hand between their bodies she stroked him through the fabric of his pants, earning herself a low growl as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting open mouth kisses on her skin.

xx

It didn't take Sakura long before she wanted more, making a quick work of Kakashi's belt and tugging at his pants which he promptly removed, once they were at his ankles, together with his shoes and socks. Pushing lightly at his chest, she guided them to his spacious sofa. Forcing him to sit down, Sakura stayed standing in front of him, as she started moving to a non-existing melody. Her heels would make a tapping noise whenever she would turn around as her hands scraped over the exposed skin.

Kakashi's eyes were following the motions of her fingers, wherever they would move. From her hair, which she held in her fists, like he did earlier that night, before letting it fall back, the sparse light in the room making it almost silvery. Then down her neck, which he got acquainted not too long ago, leaving white pressure trails as her nails dug into the skin, over her breasts and belly, all the while her hips were rocking to the rhythm in her head.

When she reached her underwear, the hunger in his gaze nearly drove her insane, but she also didn't want to release this hold she had on him quite yet. Hooking the thin lace under her thumbs, she started sliding it down her legs, taking her time. She kept her back straight, moving her whole upper body until the last piece of clothing was touching the floor. Stepping over it, Sakura savored the look he was giving her, like an animal who hasn't eaten for days, starving.

Starving for her.

Sakura could no longer keep him waiting, as well as herself. She lowered herself on his lap, kicking her stilettos off as she sat on him. He did not waste a single moment and drew her closer onto his hard member, making both of them moan in pleasure. After his initial move, Sakura started moving her hips, pressing her naked sex against his, still trapped in boxers. When he tried to shift them into another position, she held him down and rubbed at him harder, moaning in his ear.

"Sakura," he choked out.

"Mhmm?" she murmured as she nipped at his neck.

"You are driving me crazy," he said, cupping her butt in his palms, squeezing it.

Arching her back as his cock rubbed at her clitoris, sending waves of pleasure through her body, she moaned loudly, before looking back at him, her expression full of lust. "What are you going to do about it, then?"

Kakashi wasn't going to wait for any more invitations and with the strength of his athletic body, he lifted her up. Sakura had only a second to throw her arms around his neck to catch onto him, but his hands never left her ass, holding her securely in place as he carried her to his bedroom, pushing the half-closed door with his knee.

xx

He sprawled her on his sheets and for a split second, he admired her pale skin, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming from the window above the bed. Sakura watched him take off his shirt and boxers, drinking in his naked body. Every inch of him was calling to her. Getting on her knees, she caressed his cock before lowering her mouth onto him, sucking gently, testing the waters.

"Fuck, kitten," Kakashi grabbed a fistful of her pink locks, but he didn't pressure her, giving her room to do whatever she wanted.

She enjoyed the way he would tense up whenever she would suck at the tip. Moaning around his cock in her mouth, she touched her already wet pussy. Her moans were increasingly louder as he started gently pushing his hips against her lips, not enough to choke her with his length, but enough to fuel her to suck faster and harder.

"Sakura," his voice came out husky, making a shiver run down her spine. "Lemme grab a condom."

Letting him slip out of her mouth, she shook her head slightly. "It's fine, I'm on pills," she said before bringing him back, her tongue already missing twirling over his tip. This time, she brought her other hand to his balls, gently stroking them.

Kakashi hissed, not able to handle the amount of pleasure she was giving him any longer. He had to have her.

Prying her off his cock, he ordered her to turn around as he crawled on to the bed behind her, only too pleased with her listening to him.

Sakura spread her knees for him, her hands holding the headboard of the bed, observing his approach.

Steadying himself he first touched her, rubbing her wetness over her clit. Closed her eyes, she moaned his name, pushing herself closer to his body, the foreplay slowly killing her. "Please," she begged him, her nails digging into the wooden frame.

Kakashi, even if he wanted to tease her a bit more, swore after hearing her voice. Placing his cock right at her entrance, he brushed against her a few times, spreading her with just the tip.

Sakura was having none of that and with one swift motion, she pushed against him, embracing his full length. Both of them gasped for air as he filled her completely. She was still adjusting to his cock inside her when he started moving, first slow and steady. Soon after, he grabbed her hips to make his thrusts more powerful. Sakura reached between her legs to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves, her soft moans filling the room, signaling her approaching orgasm.

Kakashi, encouraged by her sweet moans, hammered her even faster until he felt her convulsing around his cock, his name falling off her lips like a prayer. It was the way her smaller body was soft and warm, his for the taking, that tipped him over the edge as well. He left out a feral groan as his hips bucked against her butt, his cock twitching deep within her.

They relished the way their bodies were connected for a bit longer before he slipped out of her, giving a fleeting kiss to the middle of her spine.

Sakura released a content sigh, letting her body collapse on the bed. Her peace did not last long, though, before she groaned, remembering something.

"Can I use your shower?"

Kakashi chuckled at her exhausted voice.

"Of course, kitten, c'mere," he said, helping her up and keeping her upright when her knees decided to not work properly after their passionate endeavor.

He walked them to his bathroom, the bright light making Sakura groan some more, waking her up from her half-sleep.

Convinced that Sakura must have been sleep-walking, Kakashi took the liberty of holding her under the stream of water as he washed both of them. Then, returning with her to the bedroom where he covered her naked body under the blanket, holding her close to his side. Her damp hair smelled of strawberries, he thought as he drifted off to sleep as well.

xx

When Sakura woke up, it was already light out. The smell of morning pine forest was enveloping her body, the warm blanket wrapped around her as she lied on her stomach, one arm curled under her torso. She opened her eyes, just slightly dreading the infamous "morning after", only to find out that Kakashi was not in the bed anymore.

She pulled herself up, holding the blanket in front of herself. Last night, she didn't pay much attention to the bedroom, other things on her mind and all that, but now she took a look around.

The most prominent piece of furniture was definitely the bed, made out of dark wood and covered with ocean blue covers. Each side had a small side table, one of them had a clock on it, clearly Kakashi's usual sleeping side. The floor was the same dark gray stained wooden planks as she's seen in the rest of the apartment. There were two wardrobes, the smaller of the two had picture frames on top of it. Some were from his dancing days, but others gave the impression of being much newer, possibly with students. The window on her left side had cream-colored blinds, matching the square carpet that was around the bed.

Other than the two-door, she faintly recalled one of them leading to the bathroom, that was it. The door to the living room wasn't completely closed and Sakura just now noticed the faint music coming from there. As well as a delicious smell, which made her belly rumble, demanding some of whatever food that was.

Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Sakura fastened the blanket closer to her body, still naked. As far as she could tell, her own clothes were nowhere in sight. Which wasn't that odd, given she didn't undress in here. The memory of her bold choices brought the heat to her face. Thinking back, she wasn't sure what exactly drove her to act as she did. Was alcohol at fault? Was it Sasuke?

She slipped into the bathroom as she thought more about it. She looked back at the years with Sasuke as she tried to wash the make-up off her face. They used to be happy, or at least she remembered being happy. But over the years, things turned sour for the two of them. He just no longer cared and the harder she tried, the more distant he became. She felt unhappy after he left, but maybe he did both of them justice.

But with Kakashi, it was something new. He did not ask why she needed the help, he just went along with it. He didn't need to ask her if she was okay in the backseat of the taxi. Yet he did. For the first time in years, she felt worthy of affection. She was ready to put the past behind her and just explore what it meant to be a woman.

Granted, if she would act less on an impulse, it would probably not be a meaningless one-night stand, but here she was. In his bathroom, making herself a bit more presentable, still feeling the fathom kisses on her skin.

Sakura left the bathroom with her face clean, the blanket trailing behind her, feeling better than she did in months.

xx

Her mood got even better as she stood at the open entrance to the kitchen. Kakashi didn't notice her yet, or at least he did not turn around from the stove. Next to him on the counter was his phone, playing soft tunes that she didn't recognize. She could see the muscles on his bareback as he lightly swayed his hips. His butt looked even better in the morning light, she concluded.

The window was revealing a small inner court, most of what she could see was just grass, but funny enough, she also spotted a swing. Between her and Kakashi was a table which already had a whole array of breakfast food on it. There were fresh fruit, orange juice, a pot of black coffee with cream on the side of it, slices of dark bread, an assortment of jams and some empty plates.

Kakashi was just flipping the last of what appeared to be crêpes, when the music stopped. As far as Sakura knew, she made no sound since she entered the kitchen, but he turned around. Perhaps sensing her presence, she didn't know.

"Ah," he scratched the back of his head, a shy smile on his lips, "good morning. I didn't wake you up, I hope?"

Sakura shook her head, smiling back.

"Okay, that's good. I thought I could make some breakfast for us," he said, taking his phone off the counter and putting the plate full of crêpes in the middle of the table. Instead of sitting down, he looked at her, almost nervously holding the top of the chair.

She decided to take pity on him. "Nice sweatpants," she said, pointing at the clothing in question, as she sat down at the table.

Kakashi looked down at his light gray sweats with dark shuriken print all over. For a moment he seemed baffled but Sakura could see the second he realized she was just making a joke to diffuse the situation.

"What can I say, they are very comfy," he joined her at the table with a chuckle.

"I bet. So, have you been up long?" she asked as she grabbed a glass of orange juice, taking a sip and readjusting the slipping blanket still wrapped around her body.

"Not really, about an hour? Still on school hours even during the weekend, I'm afraid," his hand stopped in the mid-air, reaching for some bread. "I'm sorry, would you maybe like a shirt or something? I… don't usually do this, so I am not sure what the protocol is."

Sakura looked down at the blanket. It wasn't uncomfy, but she did have to fasten it every once in a while. She felt the heat creep up her face, imagining how silly she must have looked like. "I also wouldn't know, actually. But I guess a shirt would be nice," she said, suddenly very self-aware of her appearance.

Kakashi stood up and held out his hand for her to take. She took it and together they walked back to the bedroom. He opened the bigger wardrobe as well as a drawer on the smaller one. "Just take your pick. I will wait for you with breakfast."

He was almost out of the door again when Sakura's hand stopped him. She was facing the floor when he turned back to her.

"I just want you to know that… That I've enjoyed myself last night."

She didn't see his smile, but she felt his palm, warm on her cheek as he made her look at him.

"That makes both of us," he said before he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll see you in the kitchen."

This time, she didn't stop him, maybe due to the butterflies in her stomach.

xx

She made it back just a few minutes later, dressed in one of his button-up shirts which reached her mid-thigh, picking her underwear from the living room on the way. Kakashi was sipping his coffee, looking out of the window, but turned his head when she entered. She watched the way his gaze followed the length of her bare legs, the bottom hem of his own shirt, too big on her smaller frame, all the way up to her face. The appreciation in his eyes was clear.

"You look cozy," his deep voice did little to calm down her quickening heartbeat.

"Thank you, I am feeling quite cozy," she took her previous place at the table.

Kakashi started piling various foods onto his plate and Sakura followed his suit. Spreading a thin layer of strawberry jam over the crêpe, she rolled it up and cut off a piece. It was delicious.

"Mhmmm, these are really good!"

"I'm glad you like them," he chuckled.

For the next few minutes, they simply enjoyed each other's company while they ate. When they were both done, only sipping on their drinks, Kakashi disturbed the comfortable silence.

"So… What now?" he asked, not unkindly.

Sakura thought about his question for a moment before answering. What now, indeed. Last night was the result of a culmination of her sorrows, sending her into the arms of this man, who was nothing short of a gentleman so far, even making her this breakfast. She was inexperienced in the whole one-night stand situation, but she had a pretty good inkling that this was not how it usually went.

Looking at him now, as he was waiting for her response, she saw no reason to go home just yet.

Standing up, she moved to straddle him, just like she did last night. Steadying herself by lightly gripping his shoulders, she felt his hands slip under the shirt she was wearing, his warm palms making sure she wouldn't hit the table. "I don't know," she whispered, looking into his dark eyes. Hesitantly, she lowered her head towards his and Kakashi met her halfway. His lips were soft against hers as her fingers trailed the skin on the nape of his neck.

When they broke off their kiss, he kept her close, rubbing his nose over her collar bone.

"Would you like to join me for a movie tonight?" he asked between the gentle pecks.

"I think I would like that," she felt him smile against her skin.

She could stay here for a while…

#kakasaku #Kakashi Hatake #Sakura Haruno #dancing #fanfiction #naruto #lemon #modern au #one-shot #looking for bet #btw

[muwi-translates]

木の葉隠れの陣 謙信&佐助V.S.顕如&蘭丸～フリースタイル忍者バトル～

Ikemen Sengoku Drama CD 4: Hidden Battle in the Foliage, Kenshin & Sasuke VS Kennyo & Ranmaru ~Freestyle Ninja Battle~ Part Two

Part One **Please don’t move this translation or claim it as your own.**

Requested and links courtesy of @nyktoon-ikemenlove!

Note: I will mainly be focusing on the Chinese subtitles, with light cross-referencing of the Japanese, since the former is the one I’m more comfortable working with. There may be some slight differences between the languages, but the general story should be the same. Enjoy!

Note 2: Sasuke uses a lot of English-loan words, and to not make things so confusing, I have italicized them. You’ll be able to hear them, of course!

Sasuke: Now then, let’s begin the Freestyle Ninja Battle.

Ranmaru: ‘Fu- furisutairu? Ba-batoru?’

Sasuke: It’s a style of competition where we have the highest degree of freedom, and mutually display our ninja arts, where the winner is the one who is capable of showing the highest degree of ability. The judging can go to Kenshin-sama and Kennyo-san.

Kennyo: But then Kenshin can pick you, and I can pick Ranmaru.

Sasuke: When it comes to determining victors, Kenshin-sama is a fair person. And I believe Kennyo-san is also that kind of person.

Kennyo: Don’t overestimate me. I am a demon that lives for revenge...

Ranmaru: Isn’t that a given? Kennyo-sama is just and upright, and also compassionate.

Kennyo: Ranmaru. Don’t interrupt when people are speaking.

Ranmaru: Sorry...

Kenshin: If you’re done boasting, hurry up and start.

(0:52)

Sasuke: Yes. Then, I will begin first. First... (heh and hah noises)

Kennyo: Oh, he can walk and scatter caltrops at the same time. I see he is a nimble one.

Ranmaru: He~eh, he’s not bad.

Sasuke: From walking caltrops to running caltrops.

Kenshin: Hoh, he’s accelerating.

Sasuke: And here, I turn! Triple axel caltrops!

Ranmaru: He rotated and scattered the caltrops?!

Sasuke: Now... moonwalk caltrops. 

Kennyo: What a strange way of walking. He pretends to be walking forward, but is actually walking backwards...

Sasuke: Ina bauer [1]... um, caltrops.. 

Ranmaru: What an amazing arch, his body is pretty flexible!

Kenshin: Just then... did he almost forget the two words he put in front of ‘caltrop’?

Sasuke: And then, somersault caltrops!

Kennyo: A somersault technique, I’m surprised he didn’t lose consciousness.

Ranmaru: That being said, he scattered so many, the fact that he hasn’t step on any is a bit amazing.

Kenshin: However, just being able to scatter caltrops cannot be the key point to determining the victor.

Sasuke: You are too naive, Kenshin-sama. The path of the ninja... begins with the caltrop, and ends with the caltrop. Am I right, Ranmaru-kun?

Ranmaru: Eh? I- Is that so? Anyhow, I felt Sasuke-dono’s mysterious passion for caltrops!

Sasuke: The one who controls caltrops can say they have controlled the way of the ninja. Besides, I did not just scatter them about. Please take a look at the ground.

Kenshin: This is... He wrote something out of caltrops?!

Ranmaru: What? You’re lying!

Sasuke: It’s decided. Ultra C [2].

(2:49)

Kennyo: What did he write? ‘I...’

Kenshin: ‘...love...’

Ranmaru: ‘...you’? ‘I love you’?

Sasuke: If you use this skill when you’re confessing to the person you like, I guarantee you will be able to put on a good show.

Kennyo: But I feel like the chances of the other person feeling bewildered is quite high.

Sasuke: That’s strange. If I was being confessed to, I would give them a high mark.

(3:16)

Ranmaru: That said, does Sasuke-dono have a girl he likes?

Sasuke: That’s...

Ranmaru: That’s...?

Sasuke: A secret.

Ranmaru: If it’s a secret then there is someone! You were definitely thinking about your special girl just then, right?

Kenshin: Oi, Sasuke. The woman you were just thinking about... is it that one who’s your friend?

Sasuke: My friend? I don’t know who you’re referring to.

Kenshin: Don’t play dumb. The woman who smiles carefreely, in Azuchi.

Kennyo: Azuchi... perhaps it is that girl. Indeed, her smile is carefree. Perhaps you can also say pure...

Ranmaru: Kennyo-sama, do you know her?

Kennyo: Yes. She’s a strange girl.

Ranmaru: Hm~ if Kennyo-sama says it like that... I want to see that girl too!

Kenshin: No. A suspicious brat with doubtful origins like yourself should get lost.

Ranmaru: Even if you say that~ Kenshin-sama and that girl don’t have any relations either.

Kenshin: Sasuke’s part is over. If you don’t hurry up and start, I will forcibly give this competition a victor.

Ranmaru: Gyaah! Scary~ don’t do that!

Kenshin: I don’t believe this ninja has the qualifications of a victor. Just let me-!

Ranmaru: Ha! You shouldn’t underestimate me. Ninja don’t just merely rely on strength to battle.

Kenshin: Hoh, what an impertinent mouth. So this is your true self.

Sasuke: That cunning behaviour... it’s to throw off his opponent!

Kennyo: No, this is just his hobby. Probably.

Sasuke: ... Hobby.

(5:00)

Ranmaru: Alright! I’ll give it all I’ve got and show you my ninja arts! Ninja Arts~ The Art of Sexual Appeal! [3] 

Sasuke: !! His hair unraveled!

Kenshin: It’s getting harder and harder to tell if he’s a man or a woman.

Ranmaru / Orchid: My name is ‘Oran’ (Orchid) [4]. I live in the small village nearby, I got lost in the woods when I came out to buy things... I’m scared that wild beasts might come out... Look, my leg is shaking... look here ♡

Sasuke: A high level technique in which you roll up the hem of your clothes to let your legs become visible! This is the Art of Sexual Appeal...

Kenshin: When his opponent is looking down, he uses that split second to approach and dispatch them!

Kennyo: It appears no matter happens you can always think in such a dangerous direction.

Ranmaru / Orchid: Um... can you... hold my hand? If you do that, then I won’t be scared anymore.

Kenshin: This time, he’s planning on closing the distance between him and his opponent, and taking his hand to limit his movements before killing him in one strike.

Sasuke: It really is a dangerous way of thinking. Well, as an assassination method, it does have its effectiveness.

Ranmaru / Orchid: Eh? What kind of men do I like? Those kind of things... Orchid doesn’t quite know yet... Buuut~ if I must say, it would have to be a person who warmly and cutely adores me! Just like... you. Aha~ If you want to, we can go to a place where the two of us can be alone together. And slowly~ talk a bit~?

Kenshin: If this is a man with poor taste, these sweet words are enough for him to take the bait.

Kennyo: To have even the woman-hating Kenshin’s approval, then Ranmaru’s Art of Sexual Appeal is worthy of evaluation. Aside from the ridiculous name.

Ranmaru: After all, to be a ninja, it’s important that you need to sometimes know how to win the enemy over and infiltrate to get information.

Kenshin: I only said my general thoughts. You won’t find a weak man who becomes careless when a woman greets him in my Uesugi troop.

Ranmaru: Is that so? If the girl Kenshin-dono likes came to greet you, would you not become careless? Likeeeee, the girl we were talking about?

Kenshin: Why are we talking about her again?

Ranmaru: Who knows? But I was just thinking, if you don’t have any relations to her, your reaction is pretty excessive!

Sasuke: Even though I won’t deny it. But that sentence, I feel like that can also be asked at Kennyo-san.

Kennyo: !!

Ranmaru: Ah. He wavered a bit. I’m becoming more and more interested in this person!

Kennyo: I did not waver.

(7:49)

Kenshin: I don’t know why but I am starting to feel excessively unpleasant. I really feel like cutting down everyone here.

Sasuke: Aaah, that’s bad. Let’s go back to what we were talking about. Winning over the enemy also counts as a ninja art. It was perfect with no blind spots.

Ranmaru: Sasuke-dono probably can’t do it. Sasuke-dono is, how to say it, expressionless.

Sasuke: Mm. But I think my emotions are plentiful.

Kennyo: It is utterly impossible to see.

Kenshin: A ninja art where you smile happily at the opponent is not something my ninja needs. However, someone who cannot beat a ninja like that is also unforgiveable. Sasuke. Smile for me. It’s an order.

Sasuke: Kenshin-sama. I believe that even if it wasn’t me, with you pointing that sword, the amount of people who can smile right now is quite small.

Kennyo: However, Sarutobi Sasuke needs to show the God of War that he is not just an expressionless man, and that he is also a man who is hard for Ranmaru for win over.

Ranmaru: Really? Kennyo-sama! Which side are you on?

Kennyo: Didn’t you say that I was going to be fair? However, finding a winner among these two ninjas with different directions is going to be difficult.

Kenshin: Not to mention it was a boring competition. If you don’t show me more exciting ninja arts, you won’t move my heart.

Sasuke: An exciting ninja art... huh.

[1] Ina bauer - an ice-skating move. Imagine Sasuke doing this.

[2] Ultra C - originated from the Japanese Olympics gymnastic team in 1968, it;s a colloquial term for one’s trump card, or to do something that goes beyond the ‘best score’.

[3] Art of Sexual Appeal - a Naruto parody, I suppose?

[4] Oran - comes from the first word of Ranmaru’s name, meaning Orchid. ‘O’ is polite suffix.

This was really fun! I’ve never actually done this long of an audio translation before but I really enjoyed it ;v; I’d actually like to do the ones that haven’t been done in the series if there are subtitles!

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #cybird #otome #drama cd #mytranslations #chinese #raw #ikesen sasuke #sarutobi sasuke #uesugi kenshin #ikesen kenshin #ikesen kennyo #mori ranmaru #ikesen ranmaru #drama cd translation

[ombreecha]

The Uchiha’s Wife

FF.NET Fandom: Naruto Pairing: SasuSaku Rating: M Summary: She was an otherworldly being of healing. An absolute nymph of spring. He was an otherworldly being of destruction. An absolute god of war. In a world where war makes him death, and chaos she will be the life, and love his people will talk of for years to come. AU x Warring States Period. 

Chapter 10 The Mother & Father

There was reluctance in letting her pass through his gates without his protection. It had caused words to lump within his throat wishing to remove the approval he had given. He knows he cannot take this from her, and it’s only with the control he has learned to maintain throughout his years upon the earth that he keeps his thoughts from entering the air around them. He cannot allow his selfishness to get in the way. Her viridian had showed her joy at being picked, and who was he to ruin that joy? Who was he to give into the paranoia of her leaving his side?

Days into her leaving he feels his home becoming far too quiet with her no longer consistent presence. The silence has nothing to do with the loss of her chatter—she was loud in an entirely different way. Everything about her drew you to her. She could not be missed. She could not be silenced in presence alone. All of her called out to anyone who stood before her.

There is chiding within his mind that her leaving was no different than her medic relief—except she only had one Uchiha guarding her as she walked outside his walls now.

There is no camp filled with allies, and brothers-in-arms to protect her. He could not give her more with the battles that shook the world outside their home.

He would not allow himself to give into the thoughts that threaten him within. She had left calm and drenched in joy. She did not leave his side thick within disdain. She had not left his side filled with anguish. Their marriage was far from recovered and far from being what it should have been—no, what it could have been—but there would be time to build it to that state. Time would still allow him such things when the moment was right.

Shisui would protect her so that he could have those moments.

The hawk he sends forth from within his garden sends but a simple reply. Madara has called for him, and he is all to certain he knows what matter is to be discussed. He had blatantly disobeyed him in bedding the Uchiha woman—he had reprimanded, he had placed his wife before her, and he had attacked her in his demands for an apology no less. There would be punishment. He would accept it on behalf of himself, and his wife. She had continued forward, and she had swallowed herself for him. He would do so for her just as she had done for him. It would be another apology. It would be silent. It would be unheard. It would be unspoken, but it would be there within himself.

The hours that countdown his leave are barely felt, and the sleep he had managed to succumb to leaves just as fast. His bags are handle by maids and there’s a hint of longing within him as he wraps the bandages on his arms. It seeks to remind him she has left days prior. Careful soft fingers are not there to bring them around his knuckles. There’s no catching the hum that escapes him, and it’s as he heads for the gates that he catches himself noting her missing in wishing him safe travel.

There’s no denying how much she had become a part of his world. All of these things are small, but they're significant no less.

Only one of his best men comes to travel beside him leaving their home behind to attend to Madara’s call. He could only give her one to seek to her safety in travel and he would not grant himself anymore than he had granted her. She is traveling so much further than he is. He is but a day and a half from his destination. There is no doubt she should almost be within the gates of Konohagakure as he stepped foot within Madara’s home.

The sound of their feet hitting upon thick branches sets an even pace. The sun that had barely rose to wish them off only seeks to rise higher and light the way. This shinobi speaks with hope, and with underlying fears. It’s filled with the smallest desires. He is not one to truly join in but shares his own chuckle within the joke that spills out next. These moments are just as with his wife—small but no less significant.

They are a reminder and a sound one at that. This is what he fights for. He fights for their peace and for their clan. Ideology paints it as so much more. It paints it red and caked with dirt. It paints it as power verse love. It paints it into something so much darker and complex than it ever should have been. It was no doubt smaller when you got to its core, and dig through the layers of paint that have built up in these long ten years.

The home of their leader is large, and immaculate beyond conception following the traditional style they all modeled and practiced. The maid who greets them welcomes them with ease as they lower their hoods upon their shoulders. The cold no longer chills their faces, fingers, and bones as they are lead down the hall and into the room that holds Madara and his brother. They conversing only lowering their already hushed voices as they trail in.

Others sit within the room their presence unexpected but not unwelcome. Perhaps this meeting had not been as he believed. Perhaps the punishment he had willingly walked into was not meant to come.

It thickens the air with a touch of uncertainty and a chaste kiss of hesitation follows. Izuna casts a fleeting look his way before welcoming them. There is the idle chatter that comes as they stand within the room before making way to their seats. Sitting at his place among the table of Madara’s high rank makes his companion sit behind him in silence. He starts the meeting as though it is more official than Sasuke had realized. Their eyes fall upon their leader instructing them on matters concerning the peace talks. The update holds no useful information for men like himself, who were only of use in battle. Talks of peace were as misguided as the hope that love could be what brings it. All he needed was the thoughts and feelings of his clansmen and people to push him forward. He would wage war for them and allow others to dabble in such conversations.

“Sasuke-san, your wife is participating in the Lantern festival from what you’ve said?” Madara crosses his arms as he gives into the small detail among the table. His response is but a simple nod forward before Madara continues, “Since it’s Sakura-san it only seems fitting we shall attend after the meeting.”

He cannot stop himself from eyeing his leader with uncertainty. Never had there been genuine interest in the traditions outside of their own. There is a thick swallow to accompany the uncertainty weighing upon his chest, “Do not feel forced to attend.”

“Nonsense. After all, she has been providing medical relief for our men. The least we can do is watch her perform. I hear the ceremony for the coming of spring is one of a kind.” Madara’s voice is questionable as he leans upon the table with knuckles pressed against his chin.

“Senju will be everywhere since it’s held in their territory.” Obito’s voice rings throughout the room speaking of the obvious, and it’s as Sasuke gives a fleeting look upon the fellow Uchiha that he finds his brows pinched at the revelation.

It would be a ceasefire, and no doubt a time when they would hold to their words and walk among each other in celebration of this foreign New Year. If his brother were to appear would he be able to keep his word? The thought brings a bitter and foul taste into his mouth. He would have no choice but to tolerate his existence. The whispers of battle that would echo within his being—requesting and pleading for him to take revenge upon the traitor connected by blood—would be ignored.

Kagami gives forth a snort, “This wife of yours has made quite the name for herself after being just a woman of convenience.”

He does not answer with anything more than a look to the Uchiha boy decorated in a grin upon his lips. It’s as he threads his fingers to hold his chin that the slow desire to defend his wife from claims of convenience find their way into the air. He silences Izuna’s attempt to respond to Kagami, “My wife is not just one of convenience.”

It hushes the room, and it is Madara who lets a low hum fall within the silence, “I look forward to seeing such during the Lantern Festival.” their leader raises his head from his almost lackadaisical lean upon his knuckles. There is a look between him and his leader, and it’s then that he knows there is more for him after the meeting. He had not been wrong. His punishment was, in fact, before him.

He would take it gladly.

“Hiashi-san, and I will be attending to go over details of a possible peace treaty with Hashirama. Those of you who wish to attend the festivities held within Konohagakure are welcome but are to not raise arms or cause disturbance during the ceasefire under any circumstance.” his words hold command within them under the guise of simple conversation that no one dares to join, “Those of you who do not attend spend so with family, and friends. Even with the talk of peace in the air do not forget we are at war, and peace talks never signal the end until decisions and compromise on both sides have been met.”

Izuna leads in behind his brother with ease seeming to be the one who does not find his brothers rule silencing, “Sasuke-san, you especially must follow these commands. Itachi-san will most likely be at the negotiations and events. We cannot have them claiming we broke the ceasefire. Traitor or not.”

He cannot stop himself from gritting his teeth at the name of his traitor of a brother. He cannot stop the tightening of his threaded fingers whiten his knuckles. The clearing of his throat only tenses the air, “I understand.”

The meeting opens to any questions those attending have, and no one dares give way to any ill feelings they hold about the conditions set forth concerning the negotiations. Madara has no need to give them guarantees of what he will bring to the table. Their leader knows exactly what they demand, and knows exactly what they should receive.

It’s after the others have left, and it is just him and his companion that he dismisses him with orders to meet at the gate within the hour. He stands before his leader, and his leader’s brother—the only line still standing within his dominate family tree with the loss of his mother, father, and traitorous brother—ready to defend his choices and decisions to this point.

He stands ready to receive his punishment.

“She was not to your liking?” Madara’s voice gives no true question. He is making a statement more than anything and rhetorical one at that, “Or maybe your wife has something to do with it?”

Swallowing thickly he gives way to an answer, “It was my decision. She holds no control over what I do.”

“Sasuke. We understand there was a fight between the two of them.” Izuna crosses his arms upon his chest as he locks gazes with him choosing to lean upon the paper walls, “From what she’s told us you made her apologize to Sakura-san.”

His jaw tightens at the statement never wavering his ebony from the almost identical pair that looks to him, “I have made it clear since I was forced to marry her that there would be no ill will against her. I cannot have them look down upon her if I need her to lead them within my absence. Any ill will to her shows ill will to my leadership.”

His leader lets out the slightest of hums as if understanding his position. There is a moment of looks between the Uchiha brothers before gazing back upon him, “Tell me then what you choose to do from here.”

Ebony shift from his leader for the briefest of moments before looking back to him cautious of what to say next, “My parents did not live in adultery and I hold no plans—”

“So you hold no interest in having an heir?” Izuna’s voice holds no room for halfhearted explanations. It brings forth the memory of the otherworldly creature that is his wife holding a child of Uchiha blood as she comes to him—it remains an impossibility.

A flick of his tongue behind his teeth does little to restrain the lividity within his tone. It’s harsher than intended to those above him, “I did not choose this political marriage.”

Why do you continue to follow blindly at his call?

There is no backing down from his position. He had done all that he had been asked of at this point with no hesitation. He had done everything to uphold his position as heir in the case of their passing. He had done all that he could for his clan repeatedly—time and time again. To commit adultery where his parents had not would shame not only his wife, but him, and those he lived to avenge. These were not choices he had made. If an heir was their concern they should have picked someone else to marry the ethereal woman that was his wife.

He was who they had chosen and he would follow his role properly. There would be no tolerance in his continued failure to be proper husband.

There is a shake to Madara’s head before he gives way to an exhale, “You cannot bed her, but you can continue as you are. I do this only out of respect for Mikoto. If it was anyone else there would be no choice in this matter. Disobedience would not be tolerated.”

There is anger and disdain for the man before him who continues to rule upon his choices as he sees fit. The claim of allowing him to forgo the adultery in the name of his mother—of his leader’s long since deceased sister—is all he needs to hear before dismissing himself to keep his anger within check. To anger and fight Madara would be to go against his clan, and he would never allow himself to do so. Doing so would be taking his brothers path. His clan and his people were forever the priority, and now even more so was she—he could not have punishment fall upon her for his choices.

Lucky—it’s how he should feel and yet, he does not.

Many who disobeyed Madara could not stand as tall as he does now heading for the gate with the snow that falls softly before him. His mother continues her protection of him. Bitterness rises in his chest at his need to still be protected. Fingers roughened through battle run through his hair as his scowl deepens. He was no longer a mere child of war. He was a man that was feared. He was a man that conquered. He had slaughtered those that would take the lives of his family, clan, and people who followed their beliefs. His strong stride stops before the gate taking in the cold air that seeks to chill his being. That same chilled air burns within his chest as the frosty air enters his lungs.

Ebony cannot stop themselves from looking upon the gray sky above that continues to give way to the winter season. He cannot stop the longing he holds for his mother. He would pray to her again when he returned home thanking her. He would thank her for all the protection she has ever given him, and all that she continues to give him. Even in death she stood there holding his hand. Even in death she would see to her child. Even when he had accepted punishment she would keep him from such harm.

A shudder leaves his mouth as he thinks of her. He could not ask her for advice, and he could not go to her when he had troubles. He could not truly hold her hand down this path. He could, though, continue to pave a way so others would not suffer the same loss he had. He could continue to make sure that young Uchiha children would never have to have their mother’s protection in death. He could give them something better. He could give them the ability to hold their mother’s hand within the world of the living.

He would give them the ability. He would give them the chance. He would win for them.

His fingers squeeze and it’s in that moment that he can truly feel her as if she stands beside him. He can feel her hand in his, and he can feel his chest tighten with her hand in his. Death was giving him this moment—it was giving him this precious moment to stand beside her.

His mother’s name carried the meaning of precious—she was undoubtedly precious.

A mother’s love was unbelievably deep. The spring wife had asked him if it was true that the Uchiha loved deeply. He even now does not know if that remains true, but he does know that his mother had loved him deeper than any ocean, and stronger than any fire. He knows that she would have done anything for him. He knows that she continues to do everything for him.

She had loved him. She had loved him so much. Never would she have willingly left his side. She would have continued to ease his heart, and she would have continued to erase his doubts.

She continues to do those things no matter how far he goes.

He truly had never been luckier.

Excitement does not begin to explain the feeling dancing within her heart as her mother, Shisui, and herself make their way to the gates. Her mother has fallen into bright spirits with the earthbound Uchiha male so unlike the stoic ones they knew far to frequently.

The chatter that overcomes them is easy to follow, and the conversations amusing. There are no disputes. There are no arguments over politics. There are no quarrels over ideals.

It’s peaceful. It’s welcomed. It’s what everyone should have. It’s proof that this could be something within their grasp if not for this war. It’s proof that a world of peace can truly exist in a world that only seemed to know war.

There is curiosity in how Konohagakure will look. Memories of her birthplace nonexistent within her mind. Far too young, and far too innocent she was back then to remember such things. Relatives had always come to them. They had never sought to visit, and as her age increased so did her distance with the place only newly born and newly welcomed into the world viridan had been given the privilege to see.

“Sakura-san, a friend of mine will be meeting us shortly. Do you mind if I take the time to speak with him?”

Her walk does not falter as she turns to look upon him, “Oh? You have company in Konohagakure?”

“We are separated by our ideals, but we still keep in touch.” he responds easily.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t.” she gives way to a smile as her viridian fall upon the gates once more.

Their steps take them closer. It’s impossible to miss her cousin’s wave, or the eye catching green clad male beside her. The smile that stretches upon her lips is large, and gives way to hurried steps wanting to be with them quicker. The scolding her mother speaks is ignored sprinting to wrap her arms around her cousin. There’s giggles and tight hugs. Her cousin’s voice is high as she tells her she missed her. The closeness they once had shared still within its rightful place even with their lives so separated.

It’s as they begin to catch up in hurried voices soaked with excitement that she hears the subtle interruption of her guard. He’s cleared his voice, “Ah, Sakura-san. I’d like you to meet my friend.”

Viridian full of interest turn to look at who it is that Shisui continues to hold close even as war separates them. She wonders if it is a Senju she had met in passing, or an Uzumaki she’s treated. It’s as those viridian turn that she cannot stop her smile from slipping. She cannot stop her eyes from becoming wide, and she cannot stop her heart from halting within its beat.

He’s all the familiar hereditary looks. Endless ebony strands with endless ebony eyes, and pale skin that contrasts almost painfully against her coloring. The lackadaisical look upon his face is all the more familiar, and it’s as her mind is running that she wonders if the Gods have played a cruel joke upon her.

She can only wonder if the Gods found humor in endlessly tormenting her.

“Sakura-san, meet Itachi. Itachi Uchiha.”

Her heart is held so painfully by these Gods intended to turn her world forever upside down and inside out. She cannot stop the twist of her surroundings bringing her back to her father’s body falling to the floor as she had gazes upon the man before her. She would never—could never—erase the look upon his face as her father fell before her. Such little care had been across those hereditary features.

Such little remorse. Such loss of heart. Such nonexistent feeling for those who hurt by his hand.

He no sooner would have discussed the weather with her as blood covered the floor and life fled from her father. This male held no remorse for his acts, and he had held no heart before her in a world filled with fire. He had looked as plainly at her now as he had back then.

The Gods must truly have found endless humor in her anguish.

Fingers curl within her palm as she feels her body set ablaze with a sense of loathing she did not know she could possess. This loathing that dares to possess her is volatile, seething, and unrelenting. Brows pinch, and her jaw tightens as these feelings bloom throughout her being in waves that desire to submerge this male, and herself. The fire that had torn Kusagakure asunder ghosts across her skin, and the wounds she had received as they had destroyed her home burn just as hot with each passing second. There is the hint upon her knuckles from where they had collided with the earth making it cry out. It echoes throughout the air unheard by all who stand with her. It echoes so loud she questions if she’ll go deaf.

“Sakura-chan?” the male clad in green calls out upon seeing her features change.

This man has captured her effortlessly, and it takes all the restraint she has to offer to keep her from lunging for his throat—so cruelly would she love to dig her fingers within his mouth to remove the lackadaisical expression from his features so painfully similar to her husband. There is recognition within those ebony. The recognition of that time comes with each small movement of his eyelids. The contempt she feels is begging for release at the base of her throat as she continues to hold the ebony within her viridian, and then all in a moment she feels the air slammed from her lungs. This man—this man before her—was her husband’s deeply loved sibling. The sibling so adored, and the sibling who had been the role model for her husband. This was the sibling he fought against. This was the traitor within their clan that had hurt her husband to depths that she could only now begin to understand. This sibling had hurt her husband, and slain her father. This man had brought so much pain within her world. He had brought her tears, and her husband’s hatred.

He was undeniably someone her husband had dared to love deeply, and in return he had brought it down without care.

For every moment her husband had dared to love this sibling had taught him betrayal. For every moment she had dared to believe that men of war were not inhumane he had proven it wrong eyes that held no heart.

The myths had done her husband no justice for this man stole all of it.

“Sakura, where are your manners?” her mother’s fingers have gripped her shoulder and it’s the only thing that makes her tear her gaze from him finally released from the chaos that was Kusagakure.

The wild beat of her heart is in full force as she desperately attempts to swallow the hurt, and loathing that threatens to drag her into turmoil. The tug upon her heart is laced with torment, and anguish. It’s far more powerful than what she could have thought possible. It’s far more petulant that she could have ever imagined. It’s far more deadly than she could have ever fathomed. It had come with an absolute vengeance for daring to think she could obtain any semblance of peace within this war. Bitter, and with eyes that dare to sting she feels the air constrict within her throat.

How much more could these people take from her? How much more could they ask of her? How much more? How much?

The desire that coaxes her heart could not be done.

Giving into the hatred, the anguish, and the raw lividity would alleviate such petulant torment, and yet, there is fear just on the other side. There is fear of her husband’s eyes upon her after hearing she had harmed the one he had dared to adore within his blissful innocence as a child. There is fear of her husband having to answer for attacking within Senju territory. There is fear that she will not come back from this raw lividity. There is fear that she will no longer no herself.

There is fear she will be the one without a heart. It is all too much—there is too much at stake.

Shisui shifts to move toward her with concern decorating him, “Sakura-san, are you alright?”

Fingers painfully press harder within her palm, nails digging into her skin as she attempts to speak without choking, “Excuse me, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sakura. Uchiha Sakura.”

His brow has raised at her name, and there is scrutiny within his ebony as he seems to digest her. Flickering his gaze to Shisui, “I’m sure you heard about Sasuke-san’s marriage. This is his wife.”

The lackadaisical expression has disappeared at her title and in its place startle has taken over his features. There’s no missing the tightening of his jaw, and the shift within his frame. The silence between them is loud, and it echos in her ears just as loud as the memory of her knuckles crashing down upon their earth the first time they had met.

“Sakura-san, you look pale? Are you exhausted from the travel?” fingers find their way upon her arm as obsidian try to obtain her viridian. He is giving her a way out, and she is no fool—she will absolutely take this moment to remove herself from this man.

“Please.” her voice comes out far more pained than she had intended, and it’s Shisui who places a hand upon her head, “I’m so very tired.”

She begs, and pleads to not let the tears fall that burn her eyes. Her mother’s frantic voice is but background noise as they excuse themselves, and head for her cousin’s home. The feel of those ebony upon her back as they leave him at the gate are impossible to ignore. It only seeks to further terrorize her heart. It only seeks to shake her being. It only seeks to allow her to dance within the idea of digging her hand deep within his—No. No, no, no she would not allow herself to soil her heart. She would not allow herself to become him.

Disgust—she feels it radiate within her being.

You never needed a reason to love. You only needed reason to hate, and hatred consumed.

This is what had consumed so many during the war. The sharp ache that had found a home within her heart only seeks to become stronger with such feelings and yet, she cannot bring herself to cast them aside.

What god had she angered to deserve such a thing? What cruelty had she committed to have her husband’s brother be the one who held no hesitation in cutting down her father? What misdeed did she perform to have him give so little care to those he murdered?

It’s within the room that her cousin had prepared that she finally lashes out as fingers come upon her hand, “Let go of me.” the words are bitter and venomous—they seek to hurt.

She wants to hurt. She wants everyone to feel what she has endured.

Who was she to be the only one to shelter pain? It’s not their fault though. They are not the ones who continued to pray upon her so cruelly.

“Sakura-san, what has you so upset?” the obsidian haired male had barely flinched at her vexation.

“Leave me. Go. Get away from me.” her voice is raising as she spouts each word, “All of you.” her viridian glow within her hatred as she looks upon those at the door who are painted in hurt, and shock upon her words.

They cannot understand her behavior. They cannot understand her vexation. They cannot understand her venom. She would never let them understand. She could not let them understand. She will not let them understand. None of them give way to movement, and it’s in that, that she feels the last of her snap with a hiss of her voice, “Go, I said!”

The echo of her cry within the home has washed away the excitement. It has brought with it anxiousness, and hurt that paints itself upon every wall, and every door. It paints the room and it paints their beings. It paints her so violently, and it paints her so unforgiving. The whispers that fill the air beyond those doors cannot be heard outside of muffled hums. The room has lost its warmth, but the chill is numb upon her skin as she sits within her terror. She cannot find a clear answer as she sits upon the floor with her knees pressed within her chest. The tears that had burned have found their way down.

Her mind runs, and even as it tumbles it shifts between thoughts so fast, and so carelessly she finds herself losing herself entirely. Panicked, and lost with such muddled thoughts she cannot stop herself from falling deeper down the rabbit hole that is hatred. She hates so much, and she cannot find the part of her that dared to love, and dared to find the answers so hopeful, and so wishful.

Who was more important in these moments? Her husband, or her father?

Who was to be the one that would decide what she did now? To do nothing would shame her father. To do anything would shame her husband—the title is bitter, and it holds so much disdain. Disdain that she did not know she could feel for him once again. Blaming him is unwarranted, but she cannot stop herself from doing so. Hating him would be easy in these moments. Hating him would make the choice easier. Hating him would bring honor to her fallen father.

Hating him could be so easy.

There is a pull on the hood of her cloak she had never removed. The fingers bring it down from its place in almost a tender motion. Her teeth grind at the touch, and lividity runs through her veins at someone disobeying her, “Itachi-san has angered you.”

Shisui’s voice is soft as he kneels behind her, “Go.”

“Sakura-san, I do not know what he has done to you. He’s hurt you somehow, but I cannot allow you to sit here like this. Sasuke-san—”

“Don’t you dare say that cruel man’s name.” her head has whipped to look at him so close to her. His eyes show he was not prepared for such a hostile reaction upon hearing her husband’s name, and then there is something that she cannot place that follows in its place.

“Sakura-san, who is being cruel right now?” his voice is even as the glow of her viridian gaze upon him with fury.

“All of you are cruel. You only seek to hurt everyone around you with this war. You only seek to destroy. You are mons—”

“Sakura-san!” she has never heard his voice raise in such anger in all the times they have traveled together. She has gone too far—she has bred such a response within her turmoil, “You dare to say we are cruel and yet, here you sit pushing everyone aside. You sit here and you cast your family, and mother within another room as if they are to blame. You take them for granted, and you cast them without care. I ask you again, who is being cruel right now?”

“I have lost everything.” her voice breaks within her withdraw from him, “Who else could be cruel enough to have me marry a man who’s sibling would kill my father?” the words are vulnerable and hit the air before she can stop them.

Fingers find their way within her rose-colored locks, “You know Sasuke-san was not the one who made that choice. You know Madara-sama held no part in Itachi-san killing your father. None of them could have known—just as Itachi-san could not have known that you had married his brother, and he had killed your father.” his voice has come down from the anger that had laced it. It’s pleading with her in a hushed tone, and seeking to console her, “All of us—Uchiha, Senju, and everyone else who fights—have killed someone, and hurt others with our actions. We do not know if those people will become close to us. None of us would ever wish to hurt those close to us. It is all we can do, though, as we put our lives on the line.”

The solemnity rings within the silence. She was the cruel one once more. She sat here blaming. She sat here hating. She sat here loathing. She was cursing them, and slandering them. She was taking her hurt out upon them all. She was the one with such little care. She was being selfish—but how long had she pushed herself to be selfless?

This was the harsh reality of war. War robbed loved ones. It made the light from their eyes vanish. It put hurt within the world around them. It took without remorse. It forced friends to clash, and—

It forced families to fight against each other.

“Has Sasuke-san, truly been cruel to you?” the question quakes her being. It sends anguish throughout her with the gravity of what she has said, and what she has called him.

Overwhelmed. Heart pounding. Heavy hearted.

Nothing can describe the unbelievable sadness that washes over her with that question.

If I could bring all of that pain you hide onto myself I would do so.

She had said that so easily. They had fought. They had disagreed. He had made her cry. He had been cold to her. Yet, never—not once in this marriage—had he ever been cruel. He did not do malicious things to her. He did not do things out of spite. He did not show disdain towards her.

That single statement had been true when she had spoken it. She wished to take his pain from him. This man fought to protect those that followed him. He fought for peace in his own way. He fought with no anchor in the world. He had been a victim of war just as much as she now was. He had truly lost those he loved deeply. This feeling—this moment—this hatred that she had allowed to consume her—this is what had made him who he was today. She had asked him to love her, and here with just a taste of that hatred his world was soaked in she had cursed and spoken harshly of him—of all of them.

How could she possibly ask him to love someone so cruel? How had this man survived to this day with such a feeling?

A shuddered breath. A silent cry. A whispered apology.

All of it is what fills this room as she is gathered within her guards arms. He is warm—all the things she was meant to be. He was calming—all of what she tried to be.

“Sasuke-san would punish me for letting you get hurt.” it’s his laugh that’s low and hinted upon every word that brings a smile to her tear stained face as she continues to battle the slowly dissipating turmoil.

“I’ll be sure to keep such a thing from him.”

Because, Sasuke Uchiha, would no doubt protect her.

It’s long after she has made her way from the room with her hand in his, long after she gives heavyhearted apologies to those she had spat venom at, and long after the warmth has found its way within her cousin’s home once more that she accepts that her pain is still there. There’s no denying it’s grip upon her. This was not something that could be rendered with reasoning. Her husband had traveled far down this path. He had hated, and he had been consumed for such a long time. He had been his brother for many. He had gazed down upon those he killed in the name of war with such a lack of care. He had hurt, and he had been hurt. She had barely walked a mile in his shoes, and she needed to travel so much further.

Compassion, and warmth were nothing without understanding. Understanding could not be found without feeling.

She held the poison that had infected so many firmly within her, and now she truly could understand why he held such little care for talks of peace. This rage. This hurt. This suffering. All of it could not be eased with just words. He sought out vengeance, and he sought to make sure none within his domain felt what he had felt. In his conquest he had cast aside the love he had dared to feel so deeply. He had pushed others aside, and now she, too, had done just the same. He had lashed out upon those who sought to help him, and now she, too, had done just the same. He had no longer sought to reach out for help, and she now, too, had refused to reach for a hand to save her from this poison so lethal.

He had truly gone the distance. She had truly been so blind. She had sought to understand. He had cast his eyes from a world of love long ago.

She understood.

The days that come after do not ease the spread of this poison called hatred, and it’s at night that she gazes upon the ceiling lost and flushed in lividity. Her heart is torn in two. She knows it is not her husband’s fault, but here she sits within the dead of the night blaming him silently. Shisui had never lied in what he had said. Her husband had been many things, but she would have never looked upon him as cruel. She was shifting blame. She was looking for a reason to hate.

That man was the one who had slain her father. Not her husband.

More acceptance comes within the following days. It does not ease her hatred for her husband’s sibling. Her husband’s involuntary reactions when his brother was mentioned are perfectly clear. She understands far more than she would have ever dreamed why he held such hostility when it came to his brother. This man had done so much to her husband.

What would her husband say if she dared to tell him that he had taken her father—his father-in-law—away from them?

Viridian never stop searching, and her mind has yet to stop running. She had sought out an answer for this hatred and these feelings within her anguish when she had fallen within this rabbit hole.

She will continue to search for the answer she had sought within her anguish. She has to keep searching. This is not just for husband. She has to find this answer for herself. This is also for her.

The lesson has been taught, and the feelings understood. There’s pain in knowing that she had unknowingly asked for so much from her husband the night they had fought when she had fallen before him. She had asked him for all of him, and now she truly held more of him than she ever felt possible. She had asked to be his anchor, and she had asked him for love. How could she ask him for love when now she knew how addictive this poison could be?

If she could not cure herself then she could not cure him.

Yet, forgiveness meant to accept her father’s death by a man so uncaring. She could not do such a thing. She would not do such a thing.

She would be selfish. Her husband’s selfishness now just another thing she could understand.

It’s three days deep, and then before she realizes it another two days have passed. Seven days come without warning, and then without even so much as a ‘hello’ it’s on the thirteen day that she unknowingly has come upon her answer.

Practice for the coming of spring has come to an end. Her muddled mind has continued to halt her progress. She is far from ready—she has let Itachi Uchiha continue to take things from her.

She’s letting him take this from her as well.

She expects to be scolded just as she has every day since this had begun. Fingers come upon her shoulder, and it’s what drags her eyes, stinging with unshed frustrated tears, to the male, who continues to be patient with her. Her jaw dips ready to give an apology, “Kakashi-san, I—”

He never once has blamed her for her lack of progress. She had dared to wonder if it was because they had known each other well before now. She had healed him. She had healed him several times. He had come to her when his wife had been harmed in combat. He had come to her when he would be passing through to his next battle.

Here they were now. Standing within this room so large with wooden floors. He’s yet to pry, and she’s yet to explain herself. There’s no mistake that he’s being bias and hoping whatever has her within its grips will work itself out. There’s no mistake that she needs to find her answer. She needs to find the cure.  

The sun that seeks to rest for the night paints the sky outside, and cast it’s dimming light within the room through the window. It provides no warmth outside of these walls. It could not fight off the chill outside that awaits her. Another set of fingers find their way to her shoulder, and there’s a comfort to these two men allowing her to work through her problems even as so much is placed upon her shoulder. Shisui, too, has been patient—she hopes it’s because he understands. Her bottom lip quivers as she seeks to finish what she had intended to say, but she’s rendered silent as the doors open. This person does not knock and his voice is loud.

This voice. It’s undeniably warm. It’s just as she recalls, and it brings her muddled mind to a halt.

She’s captured before she even knows it. Viridian flutter as she takes in the large grin she had only known once before. He’s all the bright blonde, and vibrant azure eyes she recalls deep within the forest. He’s all the warmth that the sun refused to give.

He is so much like the sun in the summer.

“Kakashi-sensei, how much lo—Sakura-chan?” the widening of those eyes so bright, and azure follow his question, and arms once placed behind his head begin their slow descend to his sides.

“Naruto-san?” she feels vulnerable in front of this man—and she cannot begin to understand why he has such a presence.

He’s next to her immediately with brows pinched in concern. She’s not sure if it was her face, or voice that gave away the mess that was her mind, and heart. They are enemies and yet, he comes to her side without thought. He comes to her as if they had known each other forever. He comes to her as if he is her friend.

She’s not sure what continues to make her follow in actions that her husband would scold her for, “I—Shisui, I want to go with him.”

Fingers tighten upon her shoulder as viridian make their way to ebony, “Sakura-san, I cannot leave you with him.”

“It’ll be fine.” there’s a shift in this male as breathes out, “I’ll take full responsibility should anything happen. Keep in mind that even as she wears the Uchiha crest this is neutral territory for now. No one would dare to harm her here. Not with the ceasefire approaching so close. She is, after all, our guest for the festival.”

Hesitation lingers but those fingers once so secure begin to lessen their pressure upon her shoulder, “Shisui. Please.”

Sakura cannot explain herself. She cannot begin to understand why there is so much comfort that comes from this man. She cannot understand why he does not say ‘no’ to her following behind him down these streets he knows so well, and that she’s begun to learn. He’s quiet at first and then he’s chattering away as if they are just as she had felt before—friends.

He doesn’t know her outside of that forest, and he does not know her outside of her last name. Still, he continues forward as if this is second nature to him.

When had she stopped moving forward? When had she—

He’s stopped before her his arms crossed upon his chest, “What’s wrong?”

Viridian flutter once more at this male so bold, and so overwhelming. She feels her eyes sting as all of her hatred, and all of her inner turmoil boil to the surface, “Do you hate?”

The words fall so easily, and the world seems to go quiet within her ears. There are lingering gazes among those that pass by but none seem to have caught what she had asked. His bottom lip falls open, and those azure eyes fall from her as they take in what she has asked. There’s a shame that comes over her drenching her to the core. It makes her want to take back what she has asked him. It makes her wish she had never given in to that presence he has so naturally—it’s so comforting.

Viridian watch as his mouth closes once more with lips pressed tightly together, and then only moments later does he open it again as determination radiates from him as brightly as his warmth.

“I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know who it is that you hate, but what I do know is that hatred hasn’t solved anything.” his fingers make their way to his pockets as he continues to look at her earnestly, “Has hatred solved anything for you?”

“No.”

“Hatred. The word itself is heavy. It weighs you down and yet, so many people feel that, you know? I fight to give people peace. I fight to bring these warring clans together, and get rid of hatred. If I let myself be weighed down who am I supposed to bring together? You have to believe there is good in people—otherwise, what am I fighting for?” his voice raises with each thought and it’s with each thought that viridian become wider, “Sakura-chan, what is your role? What do you fight for?”

“I fight to provide what others cannot. I want to heal people. I want to provide them with relief so that they can keep moving while so many of you take. I want—I want so much. I’m tired of fighting, and I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired—”

“Everyone’s tired.” azure seize her catching her voice within her throat, “How can you heal, and do what I can’t if your weighed down? Hatred breeds hatred. You can’t provide what you don’t give. This person you hate—has hating them made it easier? Has hating them made you better? Has it made you give up on peace? What peace do you fight for?”

The words fall far faster than she expects, and her voice is far stronger than she thought it could be, “I fight for a peace brought about by love, and yet how can I not hate someone who has taken everything from me? How can I not hate someone who has hurt so many.”

His mouth is left open, and his azure can only widen at her declaration. The silence that hangs within the air is thick and suffocating and yet, it’s as he lets out a huff of air that he cuts through it effortlessly, “It sounds to me like you’re just making excuses. Your husband, I’m assuming, fights in the war. He does exactly what you hate this person for to others. You know, it seems to me like your just looking for reasons to make hatred okay. I can’t stand people who do that. This is war. Don’t forget we don’t do this because we want to. You may have lost someone—who am I kidding we’ve all lost someone. Hating them for it isn’t going to bring them back. How are you honoring that person by hating them? Would they appreciate you taking your love for them and turning it into hate?”

Fingers twist within her clothing as she looks at him. Wide doe eyes cannot leave his face as she hears him louder, and clearer than she had ever thought possible.

This man. What had he lost in the war? Who had he lost in the war?

How had found this conclusion? Who had shown him the way when he was lost?

Her teeth grit, and it’s as she looks down at the ground that the tears dare to fall. Fingers make their way to her hair. There’s no soothing rubs like her husband had given as he washed her hair. The scent he has is so distinctly different from that of her husband. It’s no less comforting.

He wasn’t wrong. Nothing he had said was wrong, and he had made the answer seem so obvious. He had made all of it seem so unnecessary. She had accepted that she had started to shift the blame, and make reasons to hate her husband on behalf of his brother. She had accepted that was wrong. She had accepted it. She had understood it, and now this male so full of sun, and so full of warmth was bringing down the walls she had made deep within the night as she stared at the ceiling.

This answer he had given her. She needed to accept it.

She could not let that man take more from her.

He gives way to a whine, and a humor filled comment that has her letting out the smallest of laughs. He throws his hands behind his head with that large grin plastered back in its place she has come to associate as being entirely him. The walk back to her home, and it’s with Shisui running to her that she feels her mouth curve into a smile she hasn’t worn in days.

There’s hesitance across the Uchiha’s face, but all it takes is a look at her before those features once longed for fall into a sense of calm. Footsteps lead her forward and it’s now and it’s here that she feels herself finally looking down the path instead of back. .

The call of her mother comes just as she enters the entry way, and it’s as she makes her way to the room her mother stays within that she sees her mother holding up something that makes her heart drop. The pendent is unmistakable. It’s floral petals are pale except for one. That one lone petal is of a darker rosier shade. The chain hangs within her mother’s fingers, and it’s as her mother’s viridian look to her own that the widest of smiles breaks out.

There’s tears, and there’s broken laughter between the two. Her mother’s voice is hushed within this moment they share. Never had she mentioned to her in these days that the man who had taken her father was so close. She could not find it in herself to burden her mother so much. Fingers dance across her neck sending the smallest tickles down her.

“I don’t expect you to tell me what has you so upset. Just don’t forget that I am here, and so is your father. We love you, Sakura. Please don’t forget to lean on me, and never think you can’t lean on him. He would hate for you to carry everything on your own.” Her mother fluffs her hair as she says it all so quietly as if it’s a secret meant for them alone.

There’s no denying the tears that have fallen from those viridian her mother had been so kind as to share. Her hands are raising and she cannot stop herself from cupping her mother’s face a moment longer. She presses her forehead against her mothers and it’s as her mother’s fingers wrap around her wrists that they both cry whispering comfort to each other.

For every whispered affection another falls into place. For every affection action another follows right behind. Her heart seeks to apologize for being so selfish as to forget she has a parent right here, and another that truly had never left her.

The last whisper her mother gives before wrapping her within a hug is one she’s sure she’ll never be able to let go off. It brings pride back upon her, and the urgency to make it all true. She could not fail her father, and she could not fail her mother.

—He’s so proud of you, Sakura. He really is. We both are.

It’s as they walk to make their way towards the shinobi with locks with pale lead colored hair meant to assist with her practice that she tells the answer she’s found to Shisui, “I wish to speak with him. I wish to speak with my brother-in-law once more.”

He stops within his taken step to look at her. The Uchiha cannot stop his hesitation from showing—he’s held so much of that recently, “I’ll see what I can do, Sakura-san.”  

“Thank you.” the male of pale lead colored locks can only watch them as she stands before him. She turns to look at Shisui once more before she takes her leave, “When I had let hate fill me I told you I had lost everything.” her lips widen into a smile that she had just the day before relearned, “I was wrong. I have gained far more than I could have ever ask for.” the warmth that she was meant to give had found its way back to her face, and within her viridian.

She is beaming with hope, and she is beaming full of love that she wishes to give.

If there was one thing her father had taught her it was not to live in the past. Her father would not find honor in her staining her hands. Her father would not find happiness in her allowing such hate to fuel her. He would not find peace if she did not find prosperity in life.

Her father had been the kindest of people. He had been one of warmth, and sun—it’s clear now that is why she finds such comfort in the blonde. He had been the one to wipe her tears from her face, and pat her head when she stumbled. He cared so much for her. He had loved her, and in that love he had been the one to teach her the meaning of giving. He had been the one to teach her to love with no requirements.

Kizashi Haruno was unconditional in all that he did. He gave unconditionally. He loved unconditionally.

She, too, would love unconditionally. That is how she would honor him.

“You look troubled.”

She gives a shake of her head, “No. I’m just thankful to have a papa who still continues to love, and teach me even after he has left me.” there is a shudder that overcomes her as she speaks between soft smiles, “I will bring the spring for him. I will bring the spring to everyone—so they can feel the same love, and warmth I received from him. I will repay all of you for leading me back to him, and leading me back to who I am supposed to be.”

Her eyes shift to the male of pale lead hair beside her. They never falter in their walk having left Shisui shortly after her gratitude, “He’s proud of you.” his fingers fall within her hair affectionately.

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ombree:fics #ombree:theuchihaswife