#Inoichi: small child please let me help you

[dark-elf-writes]

imagine little Naruto having the biggest crush on Ino’s dad because one time he gave naruto a free plant

Inoichi being incredibly confused by his half-feral little blond shadow that definitely growled at his wife and tried to bite Ibiki for patting him on the shoulder. It is both adorable and incredibly concerning from a psychological standpoint.

Naruto on the other hand has no idea how affection works but does know he wants to watch the pretty plant man a little more and maybe swear his undying devotion.

[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 15: Sleep Deprived

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: G

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka; Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto

WC: ~3320

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: AU backstory for the purposes of I Wanted To.

A/N: This is just. I don't even know guys. I started writing and then it got bigger and bigger and I couldn't stop. It's just. A Lot.

~

Kakashi has not been able to take care of his sensei’s child the way he should, the way the boy admittedly deserves; and yes, absolutely, he takes that fault personally but also doesn’t do anything about it because really… what can he provide for this child besides instability? He’s hardly in the village anymore, though Sandaime has hinted that, if Kakashi asked, he could be assigned missions closer to home. Instead, Kakashi does what he can without bothering Naruto or letting the boy realize that he even exists. He ensures the bills are paid up in six-month increments, and has the utility companies know to charge to his personal account anything he misses due to being out on mission. He provides non-perishable groceries, placed in the pantry late at night every month or so: oats, rice, dried or tinned meats, beans and legumes. He’ll bring a small selection of vegetables with him at the same time, (no more than three or four items, so they don’t rot before Naruto feels obligated to eat them) usually pilfered from Gai’s garden so he knows they’re not poisoned.

And whenever he’s in the village, he makes a stop at Naruto’s apartment at least once to check in on the wards wrapped into the walls and window frames.

This is how he learns about Umino Iruka and the interest he’s taken in the village jinchūriki.

~

The wards when he gets to Minato’s son’s apartment this time are different. Odd. Not… well, actually, they might be stronger; Kakashi glances at the walls with the sharingan and finds himself mildly impressed. Whoever placed these wards knew about the ones Kakashi put up, and modified their own to augment and strengthen Kakashi’s.

Kakashi says modified because he’s seen these styles of wards before, but never used like this. The key in the front door jingles a bit, like the person unlocking the door knows Kakashi’s in here and is giving him time to leave. Kakashi takes the out for what it is and slips out the window, closing it quietly behind him. He stays plastered against the wall beside the window for a moment, however, wanting to get a glimpse of who’s taking care of his sensei’s kid in Kakashi’s stead.

The door opens and Naruto—gods, how old is he, seven? Eight?—barrels by the figure in the doorway with a grin and shoots straight for the pantry.

“Naruto-kun, take your sandals off first. I mopped for you just earlier this week, I’m not doing it again so soon.”

One arm balancing a paper bag of fresh groceries, a leather school bag over the same shoulder; hitai-ate and vest both neat, but his sleeves and pants legs are scuffed; and his fingers carry the faint dusting of chalk that hours of holding ingrains and a quick wash won’t wipe away. A teacher.

“Iruka-sensei, I can mop later; I’m hungry now!”

“I won’t ask you twice.” The man—this Iruka-sensei—walks barefoot through the apartment and sets the grocery bag down on the kitchen table. Naruto hangs his head and goes back to the door, and once he’s out of the room, Iruka looks at the window Kakashi is peeking in, scowling initially. The scowl lessens when he sees the Konoha ANBU mask, and he nods, but makes a slight shoo gesture.

“What’re we making tonight, sensei?” Naruto bounds back into the room, barefoot as his sensei.

“I’m thinking of teaching you breakfast for dinner,” Iruka says. “Miso soup, tamagoyaki, steamed salmon; how’s that sound?”

“Sounds great!”

“And if we make enough, you’ll have enough for the morning, too,” Iruka ruffles Naruto’s hair. “Go grab out the rice and we’ll get started, okay?”

Kakashi leaves. Iruka-sensei seems to have only good intentions.

~

Iruka is a new teacher, one that (if the very quiet rumors are to be believed) didn’t initially want to be the jinchūriki’s homeroom teacher. Something changed his mind, clearly, and now he’s spending every moment outside of class with the kid.

Every. Moment.

Kakashi notices the third time he’s in the village after meeting Iruka—notices how tired the man seems. He follows the teacher from just before dawn when he wakes up and heads out to Naruto’s apartment and fixes him breakfast. Kakashi watches Iruka herd Naruto around the apartment, brushing teeth, getting changed, gods Naruto where’s your homework I told you to put it right back in your bag last night after I helped you with it. Then they’re out the door and one of them locks the deadbolt while the other activates the wards (Iruka always double-checks the wards if Naruto does them) and they walk to the Academy together.

Iruka spends the day in the Academy staunchly refusing to play favorites. If Kakashi didn’t know that the man had made Naruto eat breakfast while searching for a clean shirt for the child to wear, he’d swear Naruto was Iruka’s least favorite student—based solely on the amount of yelling.

But the two of them have lunch together, talk and hang out during recess unless Iruka shoos him away to play, and then they walk together to either Iruka’s or Naruto’s apartment after school. Sometimes they’ll go out for ramen, or to one of the training grounds to work on a technique they started in class which Naruto needs more time to fully grasp. Iruka is a patient teacher, especially one-on-one, and even though Minato-sensei’s son doesn’t perform well on the tests in school he learns the techniques after class and gains the appropriate muscle memory.

Which is admittedly much more important than the grades Naruto earns. Iruka won’t say as much, but it’s obvious that he agrees when his teaching style puts emphasis on practicals rather than paper tests. Kakashi approves.

After a day of minding twenty-five ankle-biters, an afternoon of extra training for the village jinchūriki, and an evening of making sure Naruto is fed and happy and his homework is completed to the best of his ability, Iruka then helps Naruto get ready for bed. Against the kid’s token protests, they’ll read a story together (Kakashi suspects Iruka does this because Naruto’s reading skills are lacking, but he could also very well just be doing it because he enjoys it—the man’s motives are enigma to him) and Iruka will tuck Naruto in. He stays at the apartment until he knows Naruto is asleep, tidying up here and there or even just leaning in the bedroom doorway watching the jinchūriki’s chest rise and fall.

Only when Naruto’s asleep will Iruka leave, activating the wards and locking up after himself.

It took only two times of Kakashi watching these kinds of days go by before he realized that Iruka knew he had been watched all day. As he passes the tree outside of Naruto’s building, the only one that reaches high enough to afford a glance into his apartment, Iruka looks right up into the limbs where Kakashi is crouched, waves, and continues back to his own home.

(He had been underestimating Umino Iruka’s awareness. He’s intrigued.)

(But anyway.)

Once he’s home, Iruka rushes through grading and lesson plans and adjustments. He makes lunch for himself and Naruto for tomorrow. Cleans, if he remembers; showers, if he has any energy left. Then, Umino-sensei crashes hard around one or two in the morning.

All to start over again at five-thirty the next morning.

It can’t be sustainable. Kakashi is morbidly interested in how long Iruka planned to keep up this kind of schedule.

~

It starts out with checking out during lunch. Kakashi is lounging in the trees on the Academy grounds, pretending to read but listening intently to Naruto ramble on about some new topping Ichiraku is introducing on Friday and please Iruka-sensei can we go? Then the soft click of dropped chopsticks against a bento box made Kakashi look down to the pair sitting at the base of his tree.

“Iruka-sensei? Are you—?”

“Oh, I’m. I’m alright.” Iruka laughs it off, fumbling for his chopsticks. “I was just thinking too hard there.”

“You shouldn’t do that!”

“Hu—?”

“You tell me not to think too hard all the time,” Naruto pouts. “That I’ll hurt myself.”

Iruka’s laugh crinkles his eyes and he tips his head back. “Gods, Naruto, I’m sorry—no, not—um. Listen, forget it, okay? Ramen, on Friday, right?”

“YES!”

And it was forgotten. Except, Iruka is unconsciously rubbing his fingers together beside his hip and Kakashi can see it. Something happened to force the drop—likely, he lost feeling in his hand briefly.

~

Kakashi’s out of the village as it gets worse, but he hears all about it from Shikaku and Inoichi when he gets back. They’re in the hallway outside the Hokage’s office, talking in low tones like they were discussing an attack on the village.

“What could cause such a serious mood shift?”

“Genjutsu; one of the other teachers sabotaging him; another student practicing poorly.”

“Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi asks.

Both men look at him as he approaches. He’s still in his ANBU armor, but the mask is in his locker. It’s an open secret he’s in ANBU; only his codename is high-clearance.

Shikaku nods. “Shikamaru’s complaining about the man’s temper being shorter than usual.”

“My Ino confirmed this behavior shift. We’re understandably worried, if someone if trying to use an Academy teacher to attack the kids—”

Kakashi shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

“And you would know?” Shikaku prompts.

“He’s taking care of Naruto,” Kakashi shrugs. “It’s probably catching up with him, finally.”

“What is?” Inoichi looks honestly confused.

Kakashi tilts his head and then realizes. “Ah. That’s right. You’re both married. You have a way to share the responsibilities.”

Sakumo hadn’t ever been irate with him, but Kakashi can remember him being tired. He lifts his hand and walks away. “I’ll see if I can’t have a talk with Iruka-sensei,” he says, as though he speaks with the man on a regular basis instead of just waving back from his shadowed space in the tree at night when Iruka leaves Naruto.

~

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to Iruka for weeks. When he gets back, it finally comes to a head.

Kakashi is perched outside Iruka’s apartment where he and Naruto are preparing their dinner. Naruto, still talking a mile a minute, hardly notices that Iruka is dazed at the counter, his hands going through the motions of peeling carrots and separating pieces of broccoli without being fully cognizant. He’s much paler than the last time Kakashi peeked in on them—all except for the bags under his eyes; those couldn’t get much darker if they were black.

He flinches forward as Iruka drifts to the side. Naruto catches his teacher before Kakashi can take a step, and the clang of a knife hitting the floor is more than a little startling. Together, they stick Iruka’s hand under running water from the tap, and then Naruto disappears further into the apartment and returns a few seconds later with a first aid kit.

“What was that about, Iruka-sensei?”

Iruka takes a bit to answer. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he says. “I’m a bit tired, that’s all. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Naruto says. He finishes caring for his sensei and then says, “How about I go get some take-out, and then we can clean up and you can go to bed?”

Iruka smiles tiredly. “We can bring the take-out to your place, okay? I’ll clean up when I come back home.”

“But—”

“It’s okay, Naruto,” Iruka puts his unbandaged hand in Naruto’s hair. “I’d rather make sure you’re fed and well-rested for school tomorrow. That’s what's important.”

“You’re important, too, sensei,” Naruto says.

Kakashi can’t help but agree.

“Let’s go get some ramen, and we can argue about this later.”

Kakashi flashes away to Ichiraku to put in their order and pay. It’s the least he can do, right?

Later that night, Iruka leaves Naruto’s apartment and like always, lifts his head to wave up at Kakashi in the tree. Only, his eyes roll back with the movement of lifting his head and his knees collapse under him and Kakashi makes it just in time to keep the sensei’s head from hitting the ground. He catches Iruka with one hand under his back and the other cupped behind his head and eases him down against his raised knee.

As soon as Iruka is horizontal, his eyes flutter back open. “Oh, ANBU-san,” he mutters. He’s dazed and foggy, but tries to stand up on his own anyway.

“Sensei, are you well?” Kakashi asks, knowing the answer but needing Iruka to admit it.

Iruka waves him away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

It’s more than that if you’re slipping into micro-sleep, Kakashi thinks, but lets the man stubbornly stand up. He’s still holding his hands out, ready to catch him again, when after five paces Iruka tips sideways and falls again. Kakashi keeps him upright this time, arms tight around his waist and back.

Iruka stays under for a few seconds this time, and when he wakes he leans more heavily into Kakashi’s armor and groans. “What’s happening?” he murmurs.

Normally, he would stay and look after Naruto all night, but this seems more important. “Umino-sensei, I’m going to see you to the hospital now,” he says.

“But… Naruto?”

Because of course Iruka figured out that Kakashi—his ANBU persona at least—stays close to Naruto at all times. “Together, our wards are top-notch, sensei,” Kakashi says. “He’ll be okay for a night.” He slips Iruka onto his back, pulling his arms over his shoulders. Iruka’s light breath huffs past his ear as he says, “Hold on.” Then, they’re gone.

~

Iruka wakes up much later, Naruto tipped against his hospital bed, snoring. He feels so much better after however many hours of sleep he’s gotten. He wonders briefly why he’s here, and where the ANBU that brought him here is. If Naruto is here, that ANBU is likely closeby. Iruka lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and settles back down on the pillow to sleep some more.

When he wakes up the second time, it’s because he has to pee so bad oh gods. It’s night time and Naruto is gone—Iruka tries not to feel disappointed. His legs shake under him when he tries to stand to get to the restroom; whatever’s wrong with him, it’s making him weak as a newborn but he will not embarrass himself by not making it to the toilet. He pushes chakra through his legs, and, finally, blissfully, makes it.

He gets a good look at himself in the mirror as he’s washing his hands. His eyes are puffy and red, but he has some color back in his skin. His hair could use a wash and some heavy conditioning—he hadn’t had time for that in awhile. All in all, it’s not bad; but he’s still wondering why he’s here.

Iruka leaves the restroom and is halfway across the room to his bed when his chakra flares unexpectedly. He stumbles, collapses, and feels his eyes blur and begin to roll back.

Before his head can hit the tile, he’s caught and cushioned by Naruto’s ANBU. The ANBU gently picks him up, one arm under his knees and the other around his back, and it’s like Iruka weighs nothing as the ANBU stands and carries him back to bed.

“Thank-you, ANBU-san,” Iruka says, flushed. “I promise I’m not usually so weak.”

The ANBU fusses with the blanket and covers Iruka back up. He (Iruka assumes they’re a he, the voice and height lead him to believe it but he’s been wrong before) seems frustrated, in the way that ANBU show frustration: by being busy, and then by being absolutely still. He’ll make sure the water pitcher is full, and then stand silently by the window for a few seconds. Pace the width of the room from window to door and back, and then stand at the end of the bed.

“What’s going on, ANBU-san? Is Naruto—?”

“Uzumaki-kun is safe, healthy, and well-cared for,” the ANBU says, cutting him off. “You are a godsend to this village, if only to care for the uncared for.”

Iruka glowers. “Someone had to do it. He’s seven years old and living alone and has lived alone his entire life. I couldn’t—”

“I’m aware,” the ANBU holds up a hand to stop his rant. “Believe me, if I could have done more, I would have. But an ANBU is no role model, especially not me. I’m glad he’s had you. That said.” The ANBU somehow matched Iruka’s glower through the mask; he was suddenly glad for all the time spent in Sandaime’s office around the ANBU that he can pick up on these micro-aggressions for what they are.

Iruka folds his arms and waits for the ANBU to continue.

After a heavy sigh, the ANBU says, “Sleep deprivation.”

“I—what?”

“What you’re here for. You’ve been running yourself into the ground, sensei. You slept for twenty-two hours, and you’re still not fully recovered. The medics say it could take up to a week of proper sleep for you to feel normal again.”

Iruka flushes and ducks his head. “I… But, that doesn’t…”

“How much sleep have you been getting? Three, Four hours a night? And then you’re exhausting yourself all day looking after pre-genin and then Naruto.” The ANBU folds his arms. “This isn’t sustainable.”

“I know that. I just.” Iruka groans. “I don’t have time for—” He scrubs both hands across his eyes. Now that he’s actually gotten some sleep he’s really tired. “No one else takes care of him, not the way he needs it; he’s just a kid! It bothers me enough that he lives by himself—”

“Your immune system was compromised when you arrived, sensei.” The ANBU snapped, quieting Iruka’s tirade. “Who’s going to take care of Naruto the way he deserves if you’re stuck on your back with a perfectly, normally treatable form of the flu? What will happen to him if you critically injure yourself due to a micro-sleep at an inopportune time and find yourself off-roster for weeks? What then, sensei?”

The silence is heavy. Iruka picks at a stray thread in the blanket on his lap.

“I don’t know,” he answers, his voice small. “I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking that far ahead, I guess.”

The ANBU nods. “At least you’re aware now.”

There’s a long, awkward pause as Iruka wonders what else there is to say.

“You have a spare room in your apartment, yes?” the ANBU breaks the silence.

Iruka nods, slowly, not sure where this is going.

“Maybe…” the ANBU continues slowly, “maybe changes in Naruto’s living arrangements can be made. If Naruto were living with you, could you agree to a better sleep schedule—one with which you can better take care of yourself and Naruto?”

Iruka could kiss this man.

“Yes! Yes, please, I’ll—yes! I’ll take him, even if it means I have to lose him as a student, I’d take him as a foster.”

The ANBU chuckles. “I’ll speak with the Hokage. If he says no, well… There’s nothing saying that Naruto himself can’t choose where he lives, is there?” Then his micro-aggression is back, leaning over the foot of the bed with his arms wide. “My only stipulation is that you take better care of yourself. A sick guardian can’t very well keep up with any child, let alone a jinchūriki.”

Iruka nods. “Deal.” He covers a yawn with his palm and asks, “Can this taking care of myself clause start now, with me asking you to leave so I can go back to sleep?”

“I’m not leaving,” the ANBU says, standing back up straight. “If you’re to be the guardian of our jinchūriki, you’ll need to get used to the ANBU guard, sensei. But please, get some sleep.” He chuckles lightly, “I think I’ve caught you enough in the last thirty-six hours, don’t you?”

[narasnooze]

for @konohalads    who wanted to see Bambi die.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Shikamaru!”

Air was struck out of his lungs, his vision got blurry and everything went extremely slow past his eyes. He couldn’t hear a thing other than his own heartbeat.

He fell to his knees, swaying slightly as blood began dripping down over his bottom lip.

“Shika! Damn it..! Aoba, get help and hurry!”

“Captain.. he’s..”

“I said, GO!” Inoichi glared daggers at his other comrade before turning back to Shikamaru, trying to get some response. Aoba sighed, knowing it was too late but left them on their own to fetch some help anyway.

“Shikamaru, I need you to breathe slowly. As slow as you can. I know it hurts, but you have to listen to me.” The Yamanaka was doing his best to remain professional about the situation but it was a lot harder when the hurt one was his old friend’s son. His Godson. 

Damn this mission. Damn this situation. Damn the one who struck him. Damn everything. Damn the Hokage for assigning Shikamaru to follow them on such a dangerous mission. Damn damn damn damn.

“inoi...hi..” Shikamaru’s voice was so weak and wet and he coughed up the blood that was filling his lungs.

“Be quiet. Focus on breathing slowly. I sent Aoba to fetch help, they should be here in a bit. Just hold on and breathe.” Inoichi took a look down over Shikamaru’s torso after he’d helped his lay down and placed Shikamaru’s head in his lap. He shut his eyes tightly, looking to his face again and offering a forced smile. “You’ll be fine, boy. You’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t sure if he was saying it for Shikamaru’s sake, or his own.

“...dad..” The young nin’s eyelids flickered shut but he forced them open again, glancing up at the man. “..y.. you need t-to...   dad..  I’m s-sorry...”

“Shikamaru... please, be quiet..” His voice cracked.

“..tell him I’m sorry...   w-we fought... I sa-aid dumb things... I could never.. have had a better.. father..”

“You can tell him yourself when you get back to the village.”

Shikamaru coughed again and let his head fall to the side, facing Inoichi. He struggled to keep his eyes open, breaths short and painful.

Dad... I know I was a brat and I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean any of what I said, but still... I owe you an apology.  And...  I love you. There’s no other man I’d want as a father. Nobody else would put up with my shit, anyway.

Mom.. take care of him. He needs you more than anything... Seriously, what would he be without you, eh?

Asuma.. Chōji.. Ino.. Naruto.. Everyone...  Stick together.. Have each other’s backs and take care of Konoha.   Don’t be so damn troublesome... though, I guess that’s asking for too much.. See you later. 

“...tell him to... get rid of that... crap in the closet before mom... sees it. she’s gonna kill him..”

Inoichi couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him. “Shut your mouth, you stubborn child. I swear, you’re just like him..” He held onto him tighter.

Shikamaru glanced up at Inoichi and formed a small smile before shutting his eyes for good. “what a drag...”

.    .    .

Inoichi carried him all the way back to their village. Aoba and the medic team he’d called for met them but it was already too late.

They walked in through the gate, Kotetsu and Izumo looking up and freezing at the lifeless body in Yamanaka’s arms. The medics wanted him to bring him to the hospital but he just couldn’t.

He brought him to the Nara’s house, silently standing by the door looking down at Shikamaru. He’d cleaned away the blood from his mouth and wrapped a bandage around his stomach and chest. If you ignored that, and only watched his face, you could almost think he was taking one of his notorious naps...

Aoba stood a few feet behind, watching as the door opened and Shikaku greeted his old friend. Inoichi parted his lips and nearly couldn’t bring his voice forth.

“Shikaku...”

 Shikaku’s eyes fell down at the boy and stared for what felt an eternity. The Nara then dropped to his knees, still in shock and disbelief.

Yoshino came asking what the matter was and why the hell he didn’t invite whoever it was inside. And if it was Shikamaru, tell him to wash his hands since dinner was ready for his return.

A second after, a loud heartbreaking scream tore through the air while everything else was mute.

[vinodiriso]

Nearly three months with a new baby brother had taught her well. Hana sits with the newborn Shikamaru in her lap; one hand supports rests on the baby's head and the other is wrapped tightly around one of Shikaku's fingers. "Do you really think Auntie will wake up?" Dark eyes turn to him, unwavering, desperate for honesty. She is tired of the sugar-coating and half-truths the adults in her life feed her.

@dogtcr || unpromptu asks I cherish immensely.

SHIKAKU. 客

Shikaku had been a ghost during the previous two weeks. He was never late at work, always polite, never saying a word too much: that was the scariest thing.  Chouza and Inoichi said nothing about it, they just stayed by his side. Minato sometimes tentatively tried to speak a word, but Shikaku’s charcoal-colored, possessed eyes always halted him.

He was little more than an evanescing presence, his mind and his spirit kidnapped, away, locked into a white hospital room with a vase filled with daisies next to a bed that seemed too large for the slender figure it contained.

That was the fourteenth day of unconsciousness for Yoshino. They had been married for fifteen months, nothing really, but they had shared more than most couples married for twenty years. Yoshino was his best friend, his confidante, his secret heroine, his smile, his annoyance, his sweetheart, his raison d’etre. But that was not enough for her: she’d had the nerve to gift him the most precious thing his fucking life had blessed him with.

Shikamaru. Shikaku’s entire life was now forever bound to that puny little thing. His vital force was at the service of every whim of his fawn. He was Shikamaru’s slave, and he had no problem to admit so: that devil had smiled at him once and Shikaku was already a sucker.

But --- his doe couldn’t take care of their child yet. She needed a bit of rest. Just a bit of rest. She would have come back in no time, but of course she had to take a break first. ‘You are tired, Shishi, aren’t you, honey? It would be quite nice to let it go forever, baby, right? But I need you. I am a fucking mess. I cannot take care of our little one alone. Baby, I need you. Wake up when you can, okay, sweetie? I promise I won’t do anything bad again, if only I can have you one day more. I am begging you, Shishi. Please, come back to me.’

When the Nara heard the small, little voice by his side, his lips arched up in the most exhausted grin he could muster. Hana. That little pest was there even more than her mother: Tsume visited Yoshino when Shikaku was at work, often with her toddlers in tow, but Hana was there all the time after the Ninja Academy.

Hana and Yoshino had a bond Shikaku could not explain to anyone who hadn’t witnessed it. Yoshino had helped raising her when Tsume was away on the warfront, and it was not that much of a stretch to say that his wife was a second mother to the Inuzuka girl. Yoshino cared for Hana as her firstborn, and Hana cared about Shikamaru as her brother in return. A magic of humanity, really. He was glad the little one was there: Yoshino would have been so happy to hear her voice.

He hoped the dark circles under his eyes would not scare her. Neither his dead tired expression, or the cracked lips, or his disheveled, unshaven appearance. The glimmer in his eyes, though, was unmistakable.

“Of course she will, Hana-chan. Shishi is just resting a bit, she is gonna come back to nag at us in no time. We need to take care of Shikamaru for her just a bit longer, okay? You and me both. Thank you for your help, little one.”

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Gifts

Chapter 2:  From my Father

Artistry

“Daddy! Look! It’s you, me and Mommy.” Inojin proudly showed his dad a brightly painted picture. They’d spent the day at his studio while Ino was working at Intelligence Headquarters. Their son in his young age had already demonstrated skill and talent for art. Even his tiny hands could wield paintbrushes with great skill.

“I love it son. We’ll hang it up when we get home after you show your mommy.” Inojin smiled brightly at the proud look in his father's eyes. His daddy was so talented and his paintings were always celebrated and hung in galleries or museums. He hoped that one day his paintings would hang up right next to his.

“Thank you, daddy! It’s because of your help. Did your daddy teach you to paint?” Sai felt his heart stop at the question. They had begun telling Inojin about Ino’s father Inoichi so his interest was expected.

He took a deep breath hoping to explain this correctly.  “No son, I didn’t know my father. I was an orphan so I didn’t have parents. I was raised to be a ninja from a young age.”

Inojin’s face fell at the sad explanation.  He couldn’t imagine not having his dad around.

“But I did have a wonderful brother. Your Uncle Shin encouraged me to paint and develop my skills in art.”  Sai could tell he was still upset and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re not going to go anywhere right daddy?”  Inojin asked worried, his blue eyes wide and wondering. Sai tightened his hold on him.

“Never, I’ll always be here for you and your mommy.  You’ll never get rid of me.” He promised. He’d done a lot of terrible things in his life and at times worried that he didn’t deserve this much happiness, but he would fight till the very end to keep it.  

“Okay, daddy.  I love you.”

He held him close to his heart.  “I love you too son.”

He coaxed his son out of his sad state by bringing to life with his jutsu the picture that he’d just painted. He smiled and laughed along with him forgetting this empty part of his family tree and enjoying the one he had now.

Inojin fell asleep on Sai’s back on their way home his soft flutter of breath relaxing and calming Sai’s worried thoughts. He’d never imagined during his time in the Foundation that he could have a son and a wife. That he could love something so much.  Yet here he was holding the purest incarnation of the love between him and Ino. He hoped that his brother Shin could see how happy he was now.

*

**

“Sai, honey are you okay?  You’ve been quiet since you got home with Inojin.”  Ino asked worriedly taking care to rub his shoulders.

“Do you think Inojin resents the fact that he has no family from my side?”

Ino moved to sit on his lap running her hand through his hair trying to comfort him.  He could be too hard on himself sometimes. “Sai, honey no of course not. He has you as his father. He looks at you like you painted the moon in the sky. Besides he has a whole host of uncles, aunts, and cousins because of our friends in the village. He’s not without family and neither are you.”

Sai took a deep breath and nodded. She was right, she always was. No, his family wasn’t traditional in any sense but they did have love and respect and that’s what he’d gifted his son.

He pulled her into a kiss. It’s familiarity and warmth calming the hurt inside him. “Thank you, my Light.  You, Inojin, the Leaf. My family is perfect.”

Shadows

Shikamaru walked down the hall towards his son’s room. It was eerily quiet. He had just said goodnight to his mother thanking her for watching Shikadai while he and Temari were out.

“Son? What are you doing?” He asked opening the door to Shikadai’s room. He was sitting on his bed with a single light on.

“I’m making shadow puppets!” He explained to his father proudly. Shikamaru looked over to the wall to see the shadow his son’s hands made.

“Now I’m just like you!” Shikamaru grinned amusedly. He’d recently been sparring with Temari and Shikadai was able to see him use his shadow jutsu. It must have sparked his interest. But shadow puppets? It seemed hilarious that he was the heir to the Nara clan and powerful jutsu but he’d reduced it to something so childish. It made him realize just how young and innocent he still was. He didn’t know the extent of the power that he had inherited.

“Sounds like fun.  You’ll have to show me how to do it.” He requested taking a seat next to him.

Shikadai's green eyes glittered with excitement.  “Really? You’ve never made shadow puppets?”

He shrugged. “Nope. Your grandfather taught me to use shadows differently. Please teach me.”

Shikadai smiled proudly and launched into an explanation of needing to form shapes with your hands and that when they hit the light it forms shapes on the wall.

“Okay, I think I get it. Look I made a bunny.”

“Good job daddy!” Shikamaru was oddly proud of himself especially seeing the joy in his child’s eyes.

“Okay seems like I’ve got the hang of this. What’s next?”

“Hello?” Temari looked confused seeing her son and husband sprawled out on Shikadai’s small bed making elaborate signs with their hands.

“Mama! Come make shadow puppets with me and daddy!”

“Shadow puppets?” She asked amused. The greatest shadow jutsu user of their generation was making shadow puppets.

“Yes, not gonna lie. I’m getting pretty good according to Shikadai. I can even make a dog.” She tried not to laugh out loud seeing Shikamaru’s shadow incarnation of a dog on the wall.

“Impressive.”

“Here mama I’ll help you. Sit next to daddy.”  Shikadai instructed her crawling into his father's lap.

“Yea Mama let Shikadai teach you.”  Shikamaru grinned making space next to him for his wife.

She just shook her head with a smile and sat next to her family.

“Okay, my little fawn. Show me what to do.”   She requested patting his head affectionately.  

It turned out to be more challenging than she thought. She was excellent at weaving hand signs to perform different jutsu but retraining her hands to move in a different way than she was used to was confusing.

“It’s okay Mama. It takes some practice.” She wanted to slap away the smug look on Shikamaru’s face but just kissed her son's forehead.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll keep working on it.”

*

**

“Everything during the mission go okay?

Shikamaru asked his wife taking the ties out from her hair. The slump in her shoulders worried him and he knew that she needed some extra love and care tonight.

She rested her head against his chest focusing on his heartbeat to ground her.

“It was tough. We got it done, but it was just one of those you know.”  He nodded placing an affectionate kiss on the top of her head. He held her just a little tighter never taking for granted that she came home safe.

“Making shadow puppets with you and Shikadai helped.”

He smiled gently at her. “He does have a gift of knowing exactly what we need.”

They knew that one day their son would use shadows to hurt and kill but for now, they’d enjoy making shadow puppets in the dark.

Butterflies

Chouji smiled watching ChouChou run around chasing the butterflies flying in the wind.

Today they decided to go out for a walk while Karui was out on a mission.  Even at her young age, ChouChou had developed her own sense of style. Today’s outfit consisted of a glittery bright pink dress with a set of elaborate blue butterfly wings from her toy box.

“Daddy!!!! They’re so pretty!” She flapped her wings trying to mimic the delicate insects.

She walked up to him with a pout.

“What’s wrong my little bug?” He asked worried about the dejected look on her face.

She looked up at him with bright, wide eyes.  “When will my wings grow?”

He got a thoughtful look on his face and took her tiny hand in his. She had been growing fast but her hand still seemed so small wrapped in his own.

He walked them further into their family lands to a field covered in yellow flower bushes.

He parted the flowers looking for something specific before settling down next to his girl.

Opening his hand ChouChou looked amazed at the small bug crawling in his hand.

“This is a caterpillar. When it’s born it’s very tiny and has to eat a lot to become bigger and stronger. Once it’s big enough it doesn’t stay as a caterpillar it goes into something called a cocoon.”  He pointed to where underneath a flower was hanging a small green capsule looking thing.

“The caterpillar is in there?”

“Yes. It’s a lot of work while it’s in there. It takes a lot of energy and strength to change. Not all of them will make it but the strong ones do.  Do you know what happens to them?” ChouChou shook her head no.

“Well the strongest ones break out of their cocoon, they earn their wings and they become butterflies.”  He explained.

“Right now, you’re my very hungry caterpillar. You’re becoming bigger and stronger. Soon you’ll have to go into a cocoon and daddy won’t be able to make it easy for you. You’ll have to do the hard work but I know you’ll be strong enough and that’s when you’ll earn your wings.”

ChouChou nodded her head looking at the small caterpillar still crawling around.  It was a cute enough bug but she wanted to become a beautiful butterfly like her mommy was.

“Okay daddy but you’ll be there to watch me grow right?”

He pulled her into a hug.  “Always my little bug. And until you get your own wings I’ll have to let you borrow mine.”  She laughed loudly as he placed her effortlessly on his shoulders. He began to run around making her feel weightless as though she was flying.

“Mommy! Come be a butterfly with us!” Karui looked at her husband and daughter amused.  She'd just arrived home from her mission and went in search for her family.  Smiling to herself she opened up her arms just as her daughter had and flew along next to them.

*

**

“Your daughter refused to take off her wings. She wore them to bed with her pajamas.”  Karui informed her husband before crawling into his arms.

He just laughed and kissed her softly. “Is that so?”

“Said something about needing to become a butterfly. I was too tired to argue.”

He just chuckled once more drawing his wife closer into him. “She’s stubborn that one. I wonder where she gets that from…”   Karui hit him lightly on his chest making him laugh aloud.

“That’s a good thing! Hopefully, no sweet-talking boys will deal with her attitude and sweep her off her feet then.” Karui teased knowing he hated thinking about his little Princess all grown up.

He groaned.  “Fine, you win.”

“Thank you, darling.  She’s lucky to have you as a father.”

“Not luckier than I am to have my two best girls.”  Fatherhood could be difficult and left him questioning himself at times, but it was the greatest gift he'd ever received.  

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088739/chapters/50247758

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Forty-Nine: Play a Game ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Mikoto, Uzumaki Kushina, Uzumaki Naruto, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

If there’s one thing Sasuke dreads, it’s play dates: his mother setting him up with other kids his age to try and encourage him to run around and...well, play. As sweet of a kid as he is, he’s still shy in some regards...and it doesn’t help that a loudmouth blond from school has declared himself his best friend. He’s just...a complete opposite from the quiet, reserved boy.

He likes to play with his brother, sure - he’s comfortable with Itachi. They’ve known each other always. But Sasuke’s first few weeks of school have been a little...awkward. All of the other kids are strangers, and so many of them are too eager to wriggle themselves into his business.

So imagine his despair when his mother announces he’s been invited to a birthday party for none other than the loudmouth: Naruto, as he’s apparently called. Mikoto and Kushina were friends in high school, but until the former moved back into town with her sons, they’ve not had a chance to introduce their offspring.

Kushina, like her son, is also...uncensored in her volume. Every time she and Naruto come over, it’s a double whammy of noise and ruckus.

And no matter how hard he tries, Sasuke can’t avoid the other boy. It’s like he has a radar set to his frequency!

“Mom, do I have to go…?” he begs as they get into the car.

“Of course you do! Naruto’s your friend, isn’t he?”

Sasuke’s almost tempted to say no, just to avoid this...but something tells him his mother will see right through it. Or worse, scold him for being ‘mean’. “...I guess.”

“I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun! A whole bunch of your classmates have been invited, too - it’ll be a good way to get to know everyone better!”

He just groans as she straps him into his booster seat.

This is going to be the worst day ever.

It’s a sunny October Saturday, and by the time they pull up to the proper yard, several other cars are parked around the block, kids yelling and shrieking. Sasuke stares out his window sullenly, awaiting to be released from the belt of his seat before leaving the vehicle behind.

Kushina waves and jogs to greet them, opening the gate and...releasing a dog that leaps eagerly at them. “Oi! Kurama! No! Down boy!”

The Shiba Inu ignores orders, bouncing and licking at Sasuke’s face and coating it with slobber. “Eugh…!”

Grabbing the canine’s collar, the Uzumaki smiles sheepishly. “Sorry! Last I looked he was over with Naruto! C’mon, we’ll wash you off in the house, Sasuke.”

By then, the other kids haven taken notice, all running over to greet them. “Sasuke!” Naruto crows in greeting, clearly ecstatic.

“Everyone go back to the games - we’ll be right back! Kurama tried giving Sasuke a bath,” his mother replies, waving them away.

They step in and close the door, mostly adults in the house as the kids take over the yard. “Kurama claim another victim?” a blond man asks, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah - sorry again about that, Inoichi - he’s just so excited with all the little ones around…!” Kushina leads Sasuke to a bathroom, and it takes him a moment to realize his mother stayed behind with the other parents. But before he can protest, the redhead washes his face with a cloth. “Theeere we go! No more doggy spit! Now, you can scamper back out with the other kids, and -”

A knock at the door pauses her, opening it to reveal another child. “Oh! Hinata honey, how are you feeling?”

Pale eyes glance between her and Sasuke, clearly a bit unnerved. He vaguely recognizes her from class. “Um...a-a little better…”

“Well, do you want to head back outside yet?”

“I...was wondering if I could...have some water…?”

“Oh sure, sure! C’mon, honey -” Leading the way out, Kushina makes her way back to the kitchen, and Sasuke - having little choice - also follows. “You sure you don’t want something else? I’ve got some ginger ale - that’s good for upset tummies.”

“I-I don’t know if Dad would -”

“Oh, your dad’s not even here, he’ll never know,” Kushina cuts in, waving a hand. “If he wants you to feel better, he’ll let you have it. If he’s gonna get mad any anybody, he can get mad at me when he comes back to pick you up!” She hands the girl an opened soda can, and then looks to Sasuke. “What about you, sweetie?”

“Uh…” Glancing for his mother, Sasuke shrugs...and then receives his own can.

“I need to check on the games outside - you two come back out whenever you feel like it, okay?” And just like that, she disappears.

The pair watch her go before glancing to each other. “Uh...hi,” Sasuke greets, not wanting to be rude.

“Hi…”

“...does your tummy not feel good?”

“N...no…” The girl’s face flushes pink, clearly embarrassed. “I...I-I get nervous about s-stuff like...like this. So…”

“That’s okay - I know my mom says this stuff’s good for it, too.” And it’s one of the few sodas Sasuke actually likes: it’s a little bit bitter, not just loaded with sweet flavors like most. He carefully sips his own, trying to encourage her.

She’s quiet, unlike most of their class. If they��re going to just stay in here with the adults, well...he personally doesn’t have a problem with that. She’s already better company than just about anyone he’d find out there.

Looking to the soda nervously, Hinata then glances around before taking a small sip.

“Does your dad not like soda?”

“No...he says it’s b-bad for you.”

“Well...it kinda is. But it’s okay to have sometimes.” Or, so says his mother. “Kinda like ice cream. You can’t have it all the time, or it’d make you sick.”

Hinata hums in agreement, taking another small swig. Apparently she likes it. “Did the dog lick you?”

“Yeah…”

“It got Ino, too. She screamed all the way to the bathroom!”

Rather than laugh, Sasuke just furrows his brow. “...really?” Yeah, it was gross, but not that gross…

“Mhm. Sakura thought it was funny...but then the dog knocked her down.”

“That’s what she gets for laughing. Aren’t they s’posed to be friends?”

“I guess so…” Sip. “...do friends do that?”

“I dunno. I don’t really...have any. Except Naruto, I...guess.”

“Me neither.”

After a pause, Sasuke just asks, “You wanna be my friend?”

That makes her jolt a bit, almost spilling her drink. “M-me…?”

“Yeah, you seem nice.”

“Y...you, too. Um…o-okay…!”

It’s then Kushina calls from the door. “Okay guys, we’re starting up the games! Can you come outside?”

The little pair glance to each other...and then do as asked. “You feel okay now?”

“Um...a l-little better. I might sit out a bit, and keep my soda…”

“Okay.”

Kushina really went all out. Various stations are each a different kind of game: darts, bobbing for apples, ring toss, shooting a basketball into a hoop...and each get you a ticket when you win. Get enough tickets, and you can trade them for a goodie bag.

Hinata takes a seat on the back porch to watch, and Sasuke hesitantly looks to the fray. Kids are spread all over the yard, trying the different games and racking up tickets.

Well...no one said there was gonna be competition...and secretly? Sasuke loves to compete. He sets his soda next to Hinata, asking her to watch it for him, before heading to the ring toss.

To his chagrin, Ino and Sakura quickly show up to watch.

Doing his best to ignore them, Sasuke concentrates before throwing. With five rings, you have to get ten points, different targets worth different points. Aiming for the five, he nails the first throw...misses...and then nails the second!

“Keep goin’, kiddo,” the man watching the station grins, hair tied up atop his head. “If you get two more, I’ll give you two tickets: how about that?”

The offer gives Sasuke an idea, so he nods...and does just that.

“Nice throwing!” He offers the tickets, Sasuke snatching them and moving to the next game. And so it goes, playing each until he gets two tickets. Only once he has two sets does he approach the prize table where Kushina waits.

“Well well, look at you!” she teases. “You’ve sure got a lot!”

“Can I have two bags, please?”

“Well, everyone’s supposed to get one…”

His head shakes. “I want one for her, please.” He points to Hinata, still sitting on the back step and sipping her soda.

Following his gesture, she blinks...and then grins. “Ahhh, I see. That’s awfully nice of you, Sasuke - here.” Accepting his tickets, she hands over both bags. “Go on and give it to her!”

Sasuke nods curtly, dashing across the yard with them tucked to his chest before sitting beside her. “Here.”

“Eh?”

“I got you a bag.”

Big eyes go even bigger. “You...you did…?”

“Just cuz you’re sick doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get one. I got two sets of tickets - one for you and one for me.”

Staring at the offering, Hinata almost looks like she’s going to cry. Sasuke hates when girls cry…!

“T...thank you, Sasuke…”

“Well...you’re my friend now, so...yeah.” He hands it over, glancing aside with pursed lips. “Just...please don’t cry, okay?”

“O-okay…” Gingerly accepting, Hinata digs into the goodies, a small smile on her face.

Glancing back over, Sasuke can’t help doing the same.

The games keep on until later, when Kushina calls everyone over for dinner, cake, and then presents. Sasuke watches as Naruto tears into all the bags and boxes, including his own that hides a toy robot figure.

“Whoaaaa, cool! Thanks, Sasuke!”

By then, the party begins to wind down. Parents and kids start filtering out. But Hinata’s dad hadn’t stayed for the party...and seems to be late coming back.

“Come on, Sasuke - it’s getting late.”

Glancing between her and his mother, Sasuke jogs to the latter and tugs her sleeve. “Mom, Hinata’s dad isn’t here yet. Can we stay?”

“Oh, I’m sure Kushina will make sure she’s okay.”

“...but -?”

It’s then a car pulls up, a stern looking man emerging and scanning the yard. It’s only once he sees Hinata that he calls to her. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”

Deflating a bit, Hinata ducks her head, goodie bag tucked into her sweatshirt pocket.

“Wait!”

Pausing, she stumbles back a bit as Sasuke launches forward and gives her a hug. “S-Sasuke?!”

“...see you at school,” he mumbles, hanging on a moment longer before letting her go.

She blinks...and then gives a small smile. “O-okay. Bye…”

“Bye.”

Her father waits impatiently at the car, Hinata crawling into a back seat before they take their leave.

Sasuke watches before looking to his mother, seeing her frown as she does the same. “...Mom…?”

“...come on Sasuke - it’s time we go home.”

As she buckles him in, he asks, “...do you know Hinata’s dad?”

“Yes, he and I were in school together, like with Kushina, and lots of other parents here today.”

“Is he...nice?”

Pausing, Mikoto sighs. “...he’s a very...particular man.”

“Par...ticular?”

“...I’ll tell you another time. But,” she adds, smiling. “I’m very glad you said goodbye to Hinata. Did you make a friend today playing games?”

“...yeah. I guess I did.”

     Sorry this one's late! I, like Hinata, had a bit of a tummy ache today that slowed me down...but! I got it done!      More smols! Which honestly? I need to write more of - lil innocent kiddie interactions are so much fun to write. As much as I love the actual romance of this ship when they're adults, I love the idea of them meeting and getting along as children, no matter the verse! And a wee shout out to @berriesndbooks since they wanted some more pieces like this x3      Anywhooo, that's all for tonight! Thanks for stopping by to read~

[purple-possibilities]

Sharin-games (Part 1) [MadaKaka]

So, here’s the next part of Two Steps Back, Ones Step Forward (as it has been dubbed).  You can also see it on FF or AO3 (which I would recommend, because I love italics but I am also too lazy to manually input them on tumblr NVM I HACKED THAT SHIT THE ITALICS ARE IN. READ IT WHEREVER YOU LIKE! Just note that this is like, ~5.5k words, so it might not be so fun to keep scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.

This chapter was going a little crazy, so I’ve split it into two to get it up to you sooner. If it will actually stop at two, it’s kinda gained sentience and started developing it’s own society.

Summary:  Madara gets worried but pretends that he’s just mad. Kakashi laughs at him. An OC runs away from me. Really bad puns.

After being dragged by Madara through half of the village, and then to the center of the Uchiha Clan Complex, Kakashi was a mixture of exasperated and amused. But more than anything, he was curious. Kakashi hadn't let many medics look at or fiddle with Obito's parting gift for hundreds of reasons, but the few that had said there was nothing that could be done for him. Of course, none of them were Uchiha medics, let alone the Uchiha Clan's Sharingan Eye Specialist.

While there had been, of course, one such specialist back in his time, to say that his relationship with the Uchiha Clan was strained would be a gross understatement. He was hailed by the clan as an eye thief, and further scorned for mastering its abilities better than any who were alive in his time. It was only by the grace of his late-sensei and Yamanaka Inoichi that Kakashi wasn't executed for doujutsu theft. Still, the Uchiha Clan refused to help him with the ensuing chakra drain, and Kakashi's inability to turn the eye off; they said it would create a precedent, and would encourage others to steal their precious eyes. Those were just excuses though. They didn't need to give voice to their scorn—the cold glares and the subtle ridicule he received was loud enough. It would be fair to say that Kakashi had more than enough valid reasons to dislike the Uchiha as well.

Madara was the first Uchiha to look at Kakashi's eye with the intent to fix it. It was confusing for the Copy-Nin, putting him in a strange state of compliance. If anyone else had told Kakashi that they were going to fiddle with his Sharingan, Kakashi would have demonstrated how he became one of the youngest and best ANBU captains in existence; he would have been halfway across the village before the well-wisher could blink. But it was different with Madara, and Kakashi couldn't understand why.

Madara had tried to kill him. Madara had called him all the same names the Uchiha Clan of the future would crown him. Madara had made a point of swearing on his ancestors that he would avenge whatever Uchiha Kakashi had "stolen" the eye from, and pry the Sharingan from Kakashi's still warm corpse. It didn't make sense for Kakashi to have let Madara examine Obito's eye, and yet Kakashi couldn't help but let him. Whether it was shock or something else, Kakashi had stood still and let the other man seep his chakra into Obito's eye. That was a position of vulnerability Kakashi was not used to.

Kakashi had been closed off since his father's suicide. Yes, he had some friends, a rival—and now, two new brothers, and a new clan as an adopted Senju. Madara was… well... Madara. He was Hashirama's friend, he was sworn not to try to kill Kakashi or steal Obito's eye. He was an anomaly.

Madara had gone into a rage at seeing Kakashi injured. Kakashi didn't know what to think about that. Truly, neither did Hashirama or Tobirama. Well, Hashirama seemed less confused and more bemused, as if he had an inkling as to what was going on in Madara's head, but wasn't willing to speak of it. Tobirama—who was horrible at interpersonal relationships on a good day—just assumed that it must be Madara's ego coming into play; to attack Konoha—two of the Legendary Gonin no less—was an insult to the village. Tobirama assumed that Madara was enraged at their failure to eliminate all those who would stand against them, and thus, Konoha. But Kakashi—who was unconcious at the time, but heard about the events from others—found it strange that Madara's reaction occurred before Tobirama could explain what had transpired. It was almost as if Madara care—

"Stop dragging your feet, Hatake. We're going to fix that eye of yours so this idiocy doesn't occur again," Madara grumbled with furrowed brows, the hand pulling on Kakashi's elbow tightening.

Kakashi slumped his shoulders even more, his feet dragging and becoming heavier. Had Madara turned to look at Kakashi instead of plowing stubbornly forward, he would have seen a mischievous gleam in Kakashi's eye. "Saa, 'Dara-chan is so impatient," he sighed, feet kicking up dirt.

Madara stopped in his place and whipped around to face the secretly smirking Copy-Nin. "Do you have a death wish, Bakashi? Your idiot—"

"Mou, 'Dara-chan is so cold," Kakashi interjected, affecting a wounded expression. It was a fairly impressive feat, considering three-quarters of his face was covered. But Madara just ignored him (while not noticing at all how adorable Kakashi looked. Nope, he did not want to pull down Kakashi's mask and kiss some sense into him. Why would you even suggest that?)

"—idiotic behaviour is going to get you killed one day! If you don't die of complete chakra depletion in the field, the repeated chakra exhaustion is going to strain your organs until they fail! How can you hear that there is a possibility of saving your worthless life and not jump right into it?"

Kakashi debated whether or not to answer that question honestly. Should he tell Madara that he doesn't care when he dies? That Kakashi feels his own life is worthless? That he is only a tool to serve the village as the Hokage sees fit? Should he mention that the possibility of losing Obito's eye is more frightening than losing his own life? Because Kakashi promised to show Obito the world through that eye, and how could he possibly do so if someone took that away? The Uchiha Clan as a whole didn't like Kakashi, not in the future, and not in this time. Yes, he and Madara had become…friends? Comrades? Kakashi didn't know what it was, he had never had a relationship like this. But whatever name it held, was it enough? Enough to be honest? Enough to fully trust a man who had sworn to kill him?

"Maa, maa"—Kakashi flapped his free hand up and down indolently—"you're overreacting—"

"You're not getting out of this, Hatake—"

"It's actually Senju—" Kakashi tried to deflect, but Madara continued as if he didn't hear the other man.

"—you slippery bastard. We're going to fix this!" Madara's brows were slanted in anger, his teeth bared, and his long mane of hair standing up on end from the chakra he was unconsciously leaking. It was an intimidating sight, to be sure, but Kakashi was never one to be intimidated. Instead, he was intrigued.

"Why do you even care?" Kakashi asked. The question had been burning a hole in his brain, and he finally decided to bring it up.

The Uchiha faltered for a moment, before spitting out his reply. "Me, care? For you?" Incredulity melted off his words. Madara—arms folded and head tilted up and away—continued with a scoff, "Don't make me laugh, Hatake."

Something inside Kakashi churned. He didn't understand what it was, or why, but it felt like someone reached inside of him, grabbed his stomach, and twisted. Still, Madara's words and actions didn't add up. While, months ago, this would have been when Kakashi made his grand escape and fled—unwittingly prompting Madara to chase after him—things were different now. Something told Kakashi to stand his ground. And he always listened to his instincts.

"Then I'll just leave…" Kakashi baited, affecting nonchalance. He moved as if to go, but Madara's hand returned to Kakashi's bicep, holding him in place.

"You're not going anywhere," Madara all but growled, and proceeded to manhandle Kakashi all the way to the ophthalmologist.

The duo stopped in front of a small building. It had only two floors, the top of which looked like a residence while the bottom seemed to be a store or office. It had a flat roof where a small garden presided, the vines crawling down the bricks and giving the place a cozy vibe. The building was in contrast to those that surrounded it; the market lay a few buildings over to the left, while housing was on the right. There wasn't anyone else in the area, though the market seemed to be bustling and there were children playing in front of the housing. People seemed to walk around the building—choosing to walk down a different street as to not pass in front. Before Kakashi could question why, Madara was leading them through the wooden door and into the building.

A young girl, maybe seven or so, stood up from behind a wide, tall desk that was situated across from the door. She had long, straight, dark chestnut hair—one of two shades the Uchiha all seemed to share. Upon noticing the guests, she stood up and plastered an obviously fake smile on her face. Her chin barely passed the top of the desk. "Welcome to 'Sharin-go? Sharin-gone!' Please take a seat"—the girl motioned to the men's right where a few chairs were lined up against the wall— "and the doctor will be with—"

"TATSUMI!" Madara bellowed—hand still locked onto Kakashi's arm—walking towards the back door and ignoring the sputtering child who was trying to stop him.

"Excuse me, oji-san, but Tatsumi-sensei is busy right now and cannot be interrupted. Do you have an appointment? If you do not wish to wait, I can book you for another day—" the child—who only reached Madara's sternum—attempted to placate, standing directly in Madara's way. Kakashi was impressed that the child would be so brave, although it didn't seem like she realised she was talking to her Clan Head.

Madara's gaze finally fell on the girl, his eyes softening just slightly. "I know she is just napping, Michika-chan."

"But oji-saaaaaan," the girl—Michika—whined, albeit quietly, inky eyes widening in a plea, "you know she gets grumpy if she hasn't had her nap! Everyone knows to leave Tatsumi-sensei alone between two-thirty-seven and four-oh-nine!"

'So she knew who he was after all, and they were close enough that Madara knew her name? And the girl referred to him as "uncle" instead of "Madara-sama". This is interesting,' Kakashi thought, observing their interactions. 'That also explains why the street was so empty.'

"She can wake up for this. Now, either you can go in there and rouse her, or I can, but either way she's going to—"

"Oh would you quit it already, nii-chan? I could hear you bellowing at that poor fool all the way down the street," a woman's voice complained from behind the closed door. In another second, the door slid open, revealing the owner of the voice. She was tall for a woman, standing maybe two inches shorter than Kakashi, and was classically beautiful in the way that all Uchiha were. She seemed to be around Izuna's age, which surprised Kakashi. He would have thought the specialist would be older. She had inky dark hair similar to Madara's, just as long, only more straight than spikey. She wore the classic Uchiha collared navy shirt, fitted for a female form. The young girl behind the counter was dressed the same. The woman wore a red medical smock tied at her waist, with black leggings beneath. Michika wore leggings alone, as the shirt fell to her knees. The woman also had a strange, bronze contraption on her head. It appeared to be a set of spectacles or goggles with various, interchangeable lenses.

"You do nothing but complain, Tatsumi," Madara rebutted, oh-so-maturely.

"That's not true! You're not around enough to know, nii-chan!" Tatsumi threw back, arms crossed and certainly not complaining at all.

"And what do you call what you're doing now?"

While the two continued to bicker, Michika gave Kakashi a long suffering look, before walking over to her desk.

"I'm just telling the truth! You're the one who always twists things around!"

"Just admit that all you ever do is whine—"

"I didn't know you had a sister, 'Dara-chan," Kakashi interjected, in an attempt to stop this argument in its tracks.

"'Dara-chan?" A slow smile morphed over Tatsumi's features. Madara shot both of them a glare.

"She's my first-cousin on my mother's side. Izuna and she have always been close, so she calls me 'brother,'" Madara explained, "And Michika is Tatsumi's niece."

"Tatsumi-sensei is going to teach me how to be a Sharingan doctor just like her!" the girl in question piped up. Tatsumi smiled indulgently at Michika.

"Only if you awaken your Sharingan, Michika-chan!" Tatsumi reminded, wagging her finger. The girl's face fell slightly, but then she sat up straighter shoulders back and head held high.

"Don't you worry about that, oba-sensei! I'll awaken my Sharingan on my first mission! I just need oji-san to give me one!" Michika turned her attention to Madara now, who was pointedly ignoring the girl. Kakashi, who was always emotionally awkward but could never stand to see a child look sad, tried to placate Michika before the inevitable fall.

"Tobirama is organizing an academy for children who wish to be ninja. Maybe you can enroll when it opens?" Kakashi offered with his patented eye-smile, earning himself a large smile and a high pitched squeal. He immediately regretted trying to comfort the girl. Tatsumi, on the other hand, was elbowing Madara suggestively with a wink.

Annoyed, Madara spun her around with his free hand, and frog marched her into the examination room, Kakashi still being lugged behind him. Tatsumi offered Kakashi a wide smile and a wink over her shoulder, purposely dragging her feet just to rile Madara up. It was then that Kakashi noticed the back of her shirt. The store's logo—a Sharingan with three tomoe, with 'Sharin-go? Sharin-gone!' arched above it—lay in the place the Uchiha fan would normally have sat.

"Hashirama would love this place," Kakashi muttered to Madara, inwardly snickering at how incredibly idiotic the store name was.

"I know," Madara intoned gruffly, "which is why they can never meet."

Both men had visions of little brown haired children with blazing red eyes, handing out fliers and spewing horrible puns at unsuspecting passersby, as Hashirama cheered them on in the background.

Neither was ashamed to admit that the scene evoked a shudder.

The examination room was square, and sparsely occupied. In the center of the room sat a complicated, cushioned chair, upholstered with a soft, tan leather. Connected to the chair were various contraptions—for what, Kakashi did not know, nor did he want to find out. The walls were bare, except for the wall the chair was facing, which had an eye chart for testing vision, along with two blank posters, one on either side. There was a door to the right of the entrance, which was slightly open, and led to another examination room, this one with a bed. A messy bed where it looked like a certain specialist had been napping. There were a few potted plants in both rooms, none of which Kakashi could identify, but they looked well cared for.

Before Madara could even think of placing Kakashi in the chair, Tatsumi grabbed Madara by the shoulders and plopped him in the seat instead.

"I'm not here for me—" Madara began, annoyed, but Tatsumi was ready for his rebuke.

"Oh, I know," she said, bending over to be eye level with Madara and activating her Sharingan. "You only come by when you're half-way dead or half-way blind. And even then, Izuna is dragging you along. You've missed your checkup, nii-chan. Don't think for a second I'm going to let you leave here without a proper examination." Without looking away from her patient, Tatsumi instructed, "Roll that stool over here, would you?"

Kakashi looked around, trying to see who she was talking to.

"I was talking to you, hedgehog," she prompted. Kakashi, more amused than offended by the nickname, found the stool tucked into the corner and rolled it over as asked. "Thank you," she replied as she sat down, eyes still locked on Madara's own. Tatsumi grabbed a penlight from her smock, and pulled her goggles down over her eyes. After fiddling with the lenses for a moment, she clicked the light on, shining it into one of Madara's eyes. Madara sat still, supressing a heavy sigh, knowing that the more he complained, the longer she would draw out the examination. With the light in her left hand and her right on Madara's left eye, she channeled medical chakra into her fingertips, letting it seep into Madara's eye, through the optic nerve and to his brain.

Tatsumi opened her mouth to ask a question, but then stopped. Understanding her hesitation, Madara reassured, "You can speak freely in front of him. He was the one who suggested the procedure."

This finally tore Tatsumi's gaze from Madara, as she instead leveled Kakashi with a Look. Her bronze spectacles prevented Kakashi from discerning exactly what that look might have meant. After a moment, where he felt as if his soul was being examined, Tatsumi returned her attention to her patient.

"How have you been feeling, since the transplant?" she asked, letting her chakra follow the new chakra pathways Izuna's eyes had gifted Madara. He could feel her chakra tickling him; it took a good chunk of his willpower not to shift, or worse, start laughing.

"Stronger than ever," was Madara's reply, as literally anyone who had ever met Madara would have expected. Tatsumi didn't settle for this, though.

"'Dara-chaaaan~" she started, sing-song, stealing the 'beloved' nickname Kakashi had given him, "if you don't answer me properly, I'll tell your friend embarrassing stories from your childhood~"

"You wouldn't dare," Madara growled, attempting to glare. It was hard to achieve such a look when one had a light shining in an eye that was being forced open.

"You know the drill, nii-chan. I didn't get where I am because I let stubborn ninja like you bully me. Now spill, or I will, and you won't like what I have to say."

After another moment of grumbling, Madara replied, listing off answers to all the questions he knew would be offered. "I have not experienced bouts of blindness, nor eyestrain. There has been no bleeding, no pain, and no swollen or broken blood vessels in or around my eyes."

Tatsumi nodded, her own Sharingan guaranteeing that she would remember the information offered.

"When was the last time you used your Sharingan's abilities?" she asked, flooding his right eye and its nerves with her chakra.

"…Four days ago," Madara admitted, somewhat reluctantly. This earned him his own Look, although, once again, the bronze goggles obscured its meaning. The tight line of her lips, however, spelt displeasure.

"Turn on your Sharingan, stage one," she ordered, and Madara's eyes turned ruby-red, three tomoe spinning lazily in each eye. She made note of how much chakra flooded the eye, getting him to repeat the process a few more times while taking note of the amount of chakra used each time, and how the nerves and chakra pathways were affected afterwards. They seemed to be clear of any chakra blocks, and were not enflamed or damaged, which was a stark contrast to how his eyes were before the transplant.

"Which techniques did you use?" Tatsumi asked, switching eyes and making the same recordings.

Madara seemed reluctant to answer, as if he was giving up some secret. Yet he knew better than to lie to Tatsumi; she could probably tell from the chakra footprints in his eyes, anyways. There was no point in trying. Still, it gave Kakashi a little more information than Madara wanted, if Kakashi understood the implications. And of course he would, Kakashi was a genius, which was why Madara admired him so much.

"Amaterasu, and the Susanoo," Madara offered, his senses stretching out to feel for what Kakashi's reaction would be. It was all but a confession that Madara was the one terrorizing the residents of Shimo and Kaminari. But there was not even a flicker of surprise from the other man. That lack of reaction, although what Madara had wanted in the first place, left him strangely disappointed.

"Susanoo?" Tatsumi questioned, surprised. There wasn't usually a need for the Susanoo in these times of peace within the Land of Fire. "Turn on the Mangekyou now," she instructed before asking, "what level of the Susanoo did you reach, and for what duration?"

Flashes of the battle crossed Madara's mind; first, the buildings filled with the unsuspecting injured, burned to ashes, bathed in black flames. The screams of those who burned, of the ones who tried to douse the fires but only ended up engulfed themselves. He saw the army that they sent after him on the ninth day, mixed with shinobi from the Lands of Frost and Lightning. He saw the blue glow of his Susanoo surround him, the ribcage, the skeletal arm and sword crushing through his enemies. The sight of the Shodai Raikage—Ay—his lightning natured chakra all but useless against the Susanoo's armour. Ay, lying crushed but not dead; no, Madara left him alive, as a warning. It would take a miracle to heal him all the way, and the Raikage would carry the scars of his foolish decision for the rest of his sorry life.

"I manifested the torso, both arms, and the head. Most were skeletal, except for the torso, which grew skin and armour."

"How many times did you re-manifest the Susanoo? How long?" she asked, making note of how the chakra flooded the new chakra pathways the Eternal Mangekyou lit up.

"Per day? Only once. But for several hours. Four or five, perhaps."

She nodded, instructing him to turn his Sharingan on and off again, from stage one to Mangekyou, and from off straight to Mangekyou, comparing the differences. "And how often in the past two weeks?"

"…seven times."

This finally got the spike of chakra Madara had been waiting for from Kakashi, who was astonished that Madara would need his Susanoo that often. Tatsumi, however, was just exasperated.

"Ever since you got the Eternal Mangekyou you've been using it any chance you can! Just because your eyes won't burn out, doesn't mean your body won't!" Tatsumi scolded, slapping Madara lightly on the shoulder with the hand not currently feeding her chakra into his eye. Once again, Madara could not move, lest her chakra damage something as he pulled away.

"It was necessary," was all Madara offered, completely unapologetic. With a sigh, Tatsumi switched eyes and completed her physical examination. She pushed her goggles back onto her head, blinking a moment from the difference, Sharingan still activated.

"Alright Mr Tough Guy, read what's on the wall for me. Start with your Sharingan off."

As Madara began ratting off words, Kakashi asked, "How do you know he's not just reciting that from memory?"

"Because I write up a new chart each morning. It's a pain, but we have some Uchiha who are known for trying to lie their way through the tests. Madara is one of the worst for that, or he was. He knows better now!" The smile Tatsumi offered was in no way pleasant, despite her cheery tone. "Okay, now with your Sharingan, stage one."

Madara began listing things once again, this time different from what was visible on the wall. Intrigued, Kakashi surreptitiously lifted his headband to expose Obito's eye. With his Sharingan, Kakashi could see that the poster to the left of the eye chart had another set of characters on it, now illuminated and glowing blue. The chart to the right was still blank. Tatsumi was too involved in recording Marada's test to have noticed Kakashi's actions.

"Good, good," Tatsumi muttered to herself, one hand on her chin, the other supporting her elbow. "Now for the Mangekyou." Once more, Madara rattled off a nonsensical series of words, though Kakashi could not see where those words were coming from. He assumed they must be written on the other poster, and only visible with the Mangekyou.

Covering his eye once more, Kakashi asked, "You have the Mangekyou too, then?"

Both Madara and Tatsumi shot him a look, before turning to each other, and then back to Kakashi. Almost in unison, Madara's lips quirked into a smile, as Tatsumi broke into raucous laughter.

"Oh-ho-ho~, nii-chan," Tatsumi chuckled, eyes lit with mischief, "you always did like the smart ones."

At her teasing, Madara scowled; though not even that twisted expression could hide the slight pink dusting his cheeks. Kakashi found himself smiling at the sight. Tatsumi only laughed harder.

Knowing his examination was done (and passed with flying colours) Madara got up from his chair and roughly pushed Kakashi into his place. Kakashi offered Madara an exaggerated pout, which somehow made the Uchiha blush a little darker. Madara quickly released him, before manhandling Tatsumi back into her stool, pushing her in front of Kakashi.

Using the back of her hand to lightly dab away the tears that spilled as a result of her laughter, Tatsumi looked up at Madara, a smile still painting her lips. "I don't know what you expect me to do for a Senju, nii-chan"—she turned to smile consolingly at Kakashi—"I might be an ophthalmologist, but I can't do more than any other ophthalmologist would do for a non-Sharingan."

Kakashi's single eye looked up at Madara. When the Uchiha nodded in approval, Kakashi lifted his hitai-ate, before slowly opening his left eye. At the sight, Tatsumi gasped, pushing herself away from Kakashi and rising into a defensive stance.

"Tatsumi—" Madara started, reaching an arm out, his own Sharingan activated once more, ready to defend Kakashi if his cousin decided to go on the offensive.

"Don't you 'Tatsumi' me, Madara!" she growled, her previously cheery face twisting into a very familiar scowl; it was easy to see the family resemblance with her features scrunched in the expression Madara usually held. "You brought Senju Kakashi— Sharingan no Kakashi, the eye-thief, into my office, and for what? To fix it?"

"Tatsumi—"

"How could you? This… this… murderer, who killed one of our brothers or sisters and then stole the Sharingan just so he would be better able to kill more of us? I can't believe you, of all people—"

"That is ENOUGH!" Madara snarled, banging a fist on the wall. "I am your Clan Head, and you will not disrespect me. Now sit down and listen!"

Tatsumi stood defiant for a moment, before reluctantly dragging her stool towards her with her leg and then sitting down. Her face remained twisted in its glare, looking beautifully angry, like a wronged angel, as all Uchiha somehow managed. It was really quite odd that none of them were unattractive, considering all the inbreeding.

"I have known you all your life, have I not, Tatsumi?" Madara started, ignoring Kakashi for the moment. He waited until Tatsumi nodded in agreement before continuing. "And you have known me just as long. You of all people should know that I would never forgive the theft of our doujutsu, especially after what happened to your brother. Senju Kakashi was gifted this eye—"

"An Uchiha would never—"

"Do not interrupt me again, Tatsumi," Madara ordered, his tone level but promising a reprimand if she were to do so again. "I have been told the circumstance which led to Kakashi gaining his eye, and have deemed there to be no foul play involved."

Tatsumi looked like she very badly wanted to refute that declaration, but knew better than to talk back to her Clan Head. "He is an irreplaceable asset to Konohagakure no Sato, and to the Uchiha Clan. It is his knowledge of our doujutsu that helped Izuna and myself, who were both going blind, attain the eyes that now defend us all. You will do your duty to your village and your clan by examining Kakashi, in order to make his usage of the eye more efficient, and less taxing to both the eye he was gifted and his body. Do you understand me?"

She nodded stiffly, leveling one last glare towards Madara before turning her attention to Kakashi. At the look, Kakashi smiled sheepishly, one of his hands rising to scratch the back of his head. He was overwhelmed by a strange mixture of emotion; the warmth of having Madara defend him, wariness towards Tatusmi and her apparent hate for him, confusion as to why he suddenly felt so happy, and apprehension at letting this stranger who hated him near something that was more precious than his own life. But with Tatsumi closing in, and Madara looming nearby, there was not much time to analyse what it all meant. So as he always did when not quite sure how to act, Kakashi got ready to flee.

"Saa… I just remembered. An old lady asked me to help her with her groceries, and I was supposed to be at the market an hour ago, so I'm just going to leave—"

"Oh no you don't," Madara growled, appearing suddenly behind Kakashi to push him back into his seat. Madara's hand's lingered on Kakashi's shoulders. "Tatsumi is going to look at your eye, and you are going to sit here and do what she tells you."

"That seems dangerous…" Kakashi hedged, getting ready to slip out of Madara's grip and back to… well, anywhere else.

"Tatsumi will swear, on her brother's soul, not to harm you or the eye in any way, won't you, imouto?" Madara only called her little sister when he wanted something, or when he was being a patronizing asshole. More often than not, those two things coincided.

"You wouldn't," she ground, Sharingan blazing, the three tomoe spinning slowly. To direct your Sharingan to a superior like that was a hostile declaration, and no one other than Tatsumi and Izuna would dare to do so; they were the only two who could get away with it. But Madara would not back down on this—not that he had ever backed down on anything.

"Do it, Tatsumi."

A moment passed in tense silence. Then another. Finally, Tatsumi closed her eyes, and ground out, "I swear, on Tatsuki's soul, that I will not harm Senju Kakashi in any way, shape, or form."

"And?" Madara pressed. Tatsumi's eyes opened to glare once more.

"And… I will do my best to fix his problem."

TBC