#and the first time kanna does say he's ''like a mom'' he just gently (but firmly) reminds her ''i am a man''

[datastate]

i feel like i need to put a disclaimer on all of my kai posts to stop invoking the term malewife. i get it being used a few times, but in general it's just become (to me) 1) overplayed joke, 2) typical easian fetishism, 3) he explicitly dislikes/is frustrated by feminine terminology... i just get so tired ;_;

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

what's beyond compare, a zutara fic, chapter I.

read the prologue on AO3

---

Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation was born in the fall, as afternoon turned to night, screaming until he was red. A bad sign, his father said with disgust.

His mother brushed his short, dark hair away from his teary face. She could sense there was something about this child that was different. Scared for her baby, she didn’t tell the Sages about it when they came. But there was no hiding it from her brother-in-law, who held him in his arms and said, grave and regretful, “The spirits have not blessed this boy.”

“Is he cursed?” Ursa whispered, eyes wet as she reached for her son. Ozai had wanted to kill him, and revulsion had raised inside of her like never before. But if Zuko was cursed, then… she would protect him however she could. Even if that meant doing the worst.

“I cannot say for sure,” Iroh replied, laying Zuko gently back into her arms. “But I don’t think so. We will have to wait and see.”

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Kya and Hakoda, was born in the spring, so late at night it was early. The elders blessed her and Kya both as they laid in a mess of furs, her brother Sokka watching the proceedings anxiously. He stayed close to his dad as the rest of the tribe came to praise Kya and offer congratulations to the whole family. Bato chuffed Sokka’s chin and Sokka laughed, too young to realize it but all the same, relieved that that hadn’t changed like so much else had that day.

It was Kanna who first saw that Katara was different, feeling a resistance when she asked the spirits to protect and spare the little girl. When the other elders tried, there was the same sensation—a silence where there should have been a wolf’s howl, a stillness where there should have been wind.

“What does it mean for her?” Kya asked, clutching Katara to her chest. Hakoda sat beside her, his arms around her shoulder and Sokka’s stomach, holding him close on his lap. Sokka’s birth, unlike Katara’s, had been difficult, but there’d been no spiritual issues. He’d been blessed and Hakoda’s father, the now-passed Chief Betadi, had proclaimed him to have the support of many behind him. What did it mean that one child was overly protected by the spirits, and one child was completely ignored?

“I’m not sure. We can only hope that someday they will notice her.” Kanna didn’t look down while she delivered the bad news; they deserved more than that. Nevertheless, they all knew that this would be unlikely. To not be blessed was a death sentence in the Water Tribes.

Kya didn’t cry, though Hakoda did have to wipe his eyes. Sokka didn’t understand what was going on, but hugged his father anyway. Baby Katara snored slightly in her mother’s arms, unconcerned with the matters of the spirits.

The three adults came together later that night. Their only hope was that if she stayed close to her brother, his luck would protect her as well. It wasn’t much to hang their faith on, but it would have to be enough.

Zuko had an imaginary friend, growing up. He never shared much about them with his family, not even Ursa, but that was in part because he didn’t know how to explain. He knew his friend was real, and yet not at the same time. He saw them in all different ways, most often a man in blue, but other times as a woman in yellow or red, or a young man in green. No matter how they looked, he could always tell it was them, a spark in his very soul that said this person was the one.

The friend had many names, and they existed on the edge of his tongue, never to be said, never to be remembered. But that was okay, he thought. As long as they were there with him, it was all okay.

Secretly, just to himself, he thought of them as his love. It only felt right.

His dreams were haunted by dangers unseen. He woke to midnight storms during the rainy seasons, screaming and shivering. When Uncle brought him to pray to the spirits, he felt stalked, a confusing tangle of emotions roiling in his belly.

Uncle and Mother always wanted to know how he felt when he prayed. Azula said, “Bored.” Zuko didn’t want to say that he was angry and longing for something he didn’t even know, didn’t even understand, so he said, “Yeah. Bored,” instead.

Mother looked troubled by this answer, but quickly hid the expression in order to ask Lu Ten the same. As his cousin talked, Zuko allowed himself to wonder what Azula really felt. If it was as complicated as his own experiences. He resolved to ask Mother about it, next time they went. Maybe she would know why the spirits never talked back to him.

He never got the chance— Uncle and Lu Ten went to battle soon after. Mother stopped taking them to pray after their cousin died, and it wasn’t very long after that that she was gone too.

Katara was ten when she realized that the spirits were cruel.

She was in the communal igloo, Sokka wrapped around her, both of their cheeks wet with tears that never ended. Some of the tribe—what was left of it—was inside as well, but they were given space to grieve their brave, brave mother.

Katara had grown up with nightmares. Nightmares of darkness and pain, or distant unease that made everything suspect, or the freeze-burn feeling that she was missing something, someone, important to her. One dream had seen Katara counting her family members; Gran-Gran, Dad, Mom, and yes there was Sokka, and there was—there was—

A shadow. A gut feeling. An empty space where there shouldn’t have been one.

Mom had held her as she cried, rocking her back and forth. They all said she’d been crying that her love was gone.

It was the only comparable feeling that she had, the only other loss that Katara knew. This was so much more immediate, her whole being flushed and freezing, a terrible wail building in her throat. But if she cried, Mom wouldn’t be there to hold her and comfort her. She’d never be there again, not for anything.

“What?” Sokka whispered when Katara broke down into loud, gulping sobs. She told him between gasps for breath, and his eyes welled, but he tried to keep his tears in. She didn’t bother with that, knowing that there was no stopping this flood. She would have to be strong now, but not tonight. Not tonight.

One day early in his exile, Zuko’s ship was at a port in the south of the Earth Kingdom. He looked out across the lands, feeling an odd tugging in his chest. He almost wanted to—go inland. There was something out there that he needed to run towards, to get back to. A strong urge gripped him—he took a step and then another towards the prow. He needed to find someone, or a place maybe. An image of a cave conjured in his mind unbidden.

Wait. What am I thinking? There was no reason for him to go any further into the Earth Kingdom. There was no one there, and there was no place calling out to him. He was just being ridiculous.

He scowled as he tried to forget about it, turning his back on the lush lands.

Uncle watched him closely. He didn’t have to do more than take a sip of his tea to convey a question: What’s on your mind, Prince Zuko?

He spoke without thinking, unaware of what he was saying or what it meant. “Uncle, have you ever heard of a spirit splitting in half?” They both blinked in surprise at the question, and Zuko scowled again, furious with himself. “Nevermind. Now, when the men get back—”

“Once,” Uncle said, instantly halting Zuko’s words. He looked off over Zuko’s shoulder as if in thought, and dropped into his storytelling voice, low and impactful. “There was an earth spirit, at the beginning of everything. We remember the names of Agni, Tui, and La, but hers has become lost over the many generations. Some just call her ‘Mother’. She loved the lands, the mountains and volcanoes and everything in between, but most of all, she loved the sky. Every day and every night, she would gaze at the clouds and the stars with adoration. There was a part of her which was wild and wished to be free in the way the sky was. But she was the earth spirit, and she could not leave her beloved ground even if she wanted to.”

“When did she split her soul?” He asked impatiently, not wanting anyone to think he was enjoying the story. He wasn’t. It was boring and unnecessary. He didn’t even really want to know about spirits—he never had. Especially after all that had happened, he had no desire to do learn more… except that the urge to go inland had quieted, turning itself to the story, begging him to listen.

“Ah, ah, Prince Zuko. We aren’t there yet. Now, as I was saying. She didn’t want to leave the lands behind. The rolling hills, the forests, even the ice at the poles were her pride and joy. The other spirits were very impressed by the beauty they saw. But there were humans in these early times, and one day, there was an accident. A man had stoked a fire so he might feed his partner a delicious meal. Some say the partner was clumsy, while others say he was simply expressive. In any case, the partner fell into the fire and burned.”

“Is there a point to this?!” Zuko demanded, his skin crawling at the thought. He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind which said, expressive, not clumsy. Never clumsy.

As if he hadn’t been interrupted, Iroh went on. “The man was devastated. His grief was legendary, but that is a story for another time. What you must know for this tale is that the man buried his partner. It was his way of protecting him even in death, and it gave him a space to mourn him and feel close, because he was. There was only the ground between them. The earth spirit was used to humans dying, of course. But no dead had ever been buried before. Often, they were sent to float on the waves of La or were taken care of in some other way. She was shocked to sense him encased in her element, shocked and quite upset, and went to the grave to see for herself.

“The man was there. No one ever encroached on his moments with his departed beloved, and so he ordered her away. She came and sat beside him anyway, and said nothing as the man pleaded for her to leave. He broke down eventually, his tears falling into the dirt beneath them.”

Zuko was horrified to find his throat was tight. Other sailors around them had stopped to listen—what if they saw emotion on his face? What would they think? He could not be weak! Clenching his teeth as tightly as he could, he told himself very firmly to stop it. It was just some folk’s tale.

(There was another name on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. He could imagine a field with a tree, a perfect resting spot for a perfect man. My fault, my fault. I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.)

“’Who was he to you?’ she asked the man. The story of their love spilled from him haltingly. ‘We were soulmates,’ he told the earth spirit. ‘He was half of me, and all of me.’ They spoke for a long time, sitting over the grave. Eventually, however, the earth spirit was called away to where the land was soft and fertile and in need of shaping. She willed the ground to sprout trees, a jungle of them, and wondered if she had a half of herself. Of course, she thought of the sky. Part of her was always thinking of the freedom she saw there. And after many days of deliberating, after many days of sitting with the grieving man, she decided she had to try to reach the vast openness above her.”

“Did she jump?” Corporal Okada asked, honestly enthralled with the story the general was telling. Several other sailors laughed, but Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Of course she didn’t,” he snapped. “She split her soul.”

“Yes,” Uncle agreed, much more agreeably. “She believed that as long as part of her was on the ground, and the other part was touching it, she could have the best of both worlds.”

“And?” Several people asked at once. “Could she?”

“Some of her days were wonderful indeed. She could ride the winds and create deserts and all was well. But there were other days, where the winds exhausted her and she longed to be on solid ground once again. The closest she could get was to ruffle the grass, but she could not sit, and the half of her that existed in the sky could no longer sense the earth, just as the part of her on the earth could not sense the sky. In the end, I do not believe she regretted her choice, but we can never know for sure. She disappeared some centuries ago now.” He shook his head sadly.

The crew and the two princes were quiet for a few moments, thinking this over. Then, one of the men asked, “What was the story about the man’s grief?”

Before Uncle could reply, Zuko turned sharply. “GET BACK TO WORK!”

(He didn’t want to hear about grief. Even more than shame and dishonor, it haunted him at night. Storms still scared him like a child. Uncle would come to keep him company on the worst nights, and never asked why Zuko got so twitchy, murmuring “It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet…” without even realizing he was doing so.)

One of the first things Aang said to Katara as they made their way back to the village was, “Whoa… do you feel that?”

“What?” She asked, caught between annoyance at Sokka (could he stop complaining for five seconds?) and all the excitement of the day. “Feel what?”

“…that,” Aang said, making a fist over his heart. Seeing her face—surely making some confused but encouraging expression—he shrugged. “It’s like a tug pulling me that-a-way.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the village, but Katara didn’t know anything past the ice fields. “But it’s weird… I feel it to you too.”

Katara couldn’t answer at that moment, Sokka interrupting them to complain that Appa wasn’t flying. Again.

There was a moment, between when they got back and when Aang woke up, that she allowed herself to think of it again. Rubbing her chest over her heart, she closed her eyes and focused on it. Did she feel anything? There was some faint sensation there, she realized, and dug for it, grasping onto it with both hands. Bringing it to the light made her realize—though it was invisble, it spun her around and pointed toward the tent which held the young air bender. When he woke up, she could tell him she felt it too!

She was just about to open her eyes when something else caught her attention. A shadow. A gut feeling. An empty space where there shouldn’t have been one. Frowning, she followed that line in a mind full of snow, and imagined herself at the edge of the ice, looking out onto the water.

Not too far, she thought, totally nonsensically. Almost here. They’re almost here.

What? She tried to imagine herself walking away from the edge, and she could see a path on the ground that lead to the tent. She took a few steps before turning back again. The sun dipped low on the horizon in this vision. She thought she could make out a shape in front of the bright ball of flame, far away but definitely there.

Find me.

Opening her eyes, she scowled and tried to shake the weird daydream away. But her heart was singing under her fist.

Find me.

(Katara hated the color red. What was it good for, anyway? Red cheeks when you were embarrassed. Red fingers when you were too cold, before it got bad. Red blood spilled on the ice. Red armor killing innocent people. Red armor killing her mother. Red armor hurting her brother and her Gran-Gran.

Red scar slanting an eye that she couldn’t look away from.

She forgot about the paths in her mind, forgot to wonder who or what those weird thoughts had been about until they were in the air. Feeling the wind ruffle through her hair, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine them again. There was the invisble pull towards Aang, but the other one had slipped too far away. Furrowing her brow, she tried to find it again, only for that stupid fire bender’s stupid red scar to flash in her mind.

Disgusted with herself, she shook her head like it would make her forget, but of course, it didn’t work.)

(Blue. It was a color Zuko wasn’t supposed to like, and so he didn’t. He didn’t like green or brown or yellow either. Peasant colors, Azula said. But there was something about blue that called to him, that warmed his chest at the same time it twisted in his gut.

The Water Tribe peasants all wore blue, and purple and white too. But there was something about the girl who stood there with the old woman, who stood up to him, that caught his attention.

He still didn’t like blue. But even after she and her dunce brother attacked his ship, he found himself thinking about it, the specific shades and how they’d looked on the ice and on his ship.

Gods, but did he make himself sick.)

[shortkingzuko]

title: carving out a life together

relationship: bato/hakoda

warnings: mentions of canon injuries and death, non-graphic animal death

summary: Of course, it’s Katara who brings it up, ever the romantic that she is. It’s the evening, with the bulk of the day’s work done, the remainder being tomorrow’s problem, and Hakoda is sitting in front of the fire in his home, enjoying a pleasant conversation with his daughter while they wait for Bato to return from his work, when Katara, suddenly and without preamble asks, “So when are you and Bato getting married?”

(my late submission for the final day of @bakodafleetweek, prompt: wedding [but.. barely lmao])

read under the cut or on AO3 for the full list of tags + notes

After their many years of pining, silent affection, tentative touches, their eventual confessions, Hakoda and Bato found that they didn’t quite know where to go from here. In the two years since the war ended - an impossible fact that never lost its dreamlike quality when Hakoda thinks about it - the two men have fallen into an easy routine, characterized by early mornings and kisses softer than their battle-harden bodies ever thought possible, by meals shared in the comfort of their own home, and by long days coming to an end when they were able to wrap their arms around each other in bed.

Being with Bato, Hakoda often thinks, feels natural and right, like slipping into his favourite parka; it fits so perfectly that he barely thinks about it, until he contemplates wearing anything else, and then he appreciates its' comfort all the more.

He knows that Bato has harboured feelings for him since they were children, no older than Katara was now, and while he never expressed it freely, Hakoda had always known, in some way. The way that Bato would roll his eyes but still laugh at all his jokes early on, the way that Bato would drop everything whenever Hakoda asked, the way that Bato was dedicated, devoted, to him like no one else - bar Kya - gave it away. It wasn’t hard to accept that Bato loved him, as Hakoda knew that if Bato ever loved anyone else, he would feel a sense of loss and sadness, mixed with the joy of seeing his friend being happy and in love.

It had been harder to come to terms with his own feelings, even years after Kya’s death. Hakoda knew there would always be a piece of his heart dedicated just to her, a love that only she had, but as time went on, he (re)discovered his feelings for his friend, falling in love with his dry wit, his deep voice, the way that would smile whenever he caught Hakoda’s eyes.

During the war, it was easy to rationalize his growing desire to be near Bato at all times, to share a tent with him, to be close enough that at any point he could reach over and place a hand on the taller man’s arm. It was safety, Hakoda remembers telling himself before he finally got his shit together, it was for safety and because he wanted to make sure his friend was okay at all times. And yeah, maybe that was a small part of it, but mostly it was because he enjoyed being close to Bato, revelled in feeling his warmth against his side, in being able to hear the rumble from his chest as he spoke, and from being able to link pinkies with him at a moment’s notice.

Bato always seemed to know Hakoda better than he knew himself because he would just look at Hakoda whenever he initiated an unnecessary touch, and smile coyly, before looking away. He never commented on what Hakoda was doing, until one night in their tent he reached across their sleeping rolls, and placed a gentle hand on top of Hakoda’s. When he didn’t pull away, Bato shifted slightly, laced their fingers together, before whispering, “Goodnight, Koda.”

And they had fallen asleep like that, though Hakoda had spent what felt like hours just memorizing the warmth that he felt, the feeling of Bato’s rough skin behind his calloused fingers, how tenderly and gently Bato’s grip was, and how it loosened even more as he fell asleep. During the night, of course, they had both moved and their hands had separated, but the knowledge of the night before was enough for them, and they spent many more nights falling asleep like that. Eventually, under the gist of doing an impromptu patrol, Hakoda and taken Bato outside the camp, and under trees taller than they could have ever imagined, Hakoda reached for Bato's hand in the daylight. He laced their fingers together, before leaning up - and, to his slight embarrassment, Bato had to hunch down - and pressing a kiss against Bato's chapped lips. They had returned to camp soon after, and if they held hands at dinner, then no one mentioned it.

There were bumps that they hit, as one might expect, considering that they were in a war, that Bato was Hakoda’s second-in-command, and considering that Hakoda was entering the relationship as a widower with two children. Though Sokka and Katara both knew Bato well - the man had taken them ice dodging! - and loved him like an uncle, or even as a second dad, they were still confused, shocked, and a little bit hurt when Hakoda had finally sat them down after the comet, and with one hand on each of their knees, Bato sitting stiff as a board next to him, that he and Bato were dating.

In the two years that passed, any apprehension that his children carried has melted away to easy acceptance and happy neutrality at seeing their father sharing his life with a man that made him smile in a way that they hadn’t seen in years. They roll their eyes at the sight of Bato and Hakoda holding hands as they walk around their under-construction village, when they see their father leaning up to press a quick kiss to Bato’s chin, and when they see Bato sporting matching beads in his hair as Hakoda.

The two years since the end of the war seem to fly by, with Hakoda and Bato learning to readjust to life that isn’t constantly under threat. He’s happy to be with Bato, happy that for once, everything is simple and happy that he and his partner can just go with the flow for once.

Of course, it’s Katara who brings it up, ever the romantic that she is. It’s been about a month since Hakoda and Bato’s anniversary, a date which is vague at the best of times and which had no formal celebration, though the dinner that night was more fanciful than usual, that was due to Katara and Sokka’s friends visiting, saying farewell as Katara and Sokka were needed in the village for the upcoming winter months.  

It’s the evening, with the bulk of the day’s work done, the remainder being tomorrow’s problem, and Hakoda is sitting in front of the fire in his home, enjoying a pleasant conversation with his daughter while they wait for Bato to return from his work, when Katara, suddenly and without preamble asks, “So when are you and Bato getting married?”

If Hakoda had been drinking anything, he would have spat it out. Instead, he blinks a few times, before asking, “What?”

“When are you getting married?” She repeats. “You guys have been together for a few years now, right? Are you planning on getting married?”

“Uh,” Hakoda is still trying to gather himself from the whiplash that the conversation has given him. “We weren’t… we haven’t talked about it?”

Katara hums, and fiddles with her necklace. It’s not a move that goes unnoticed.

“Do you want us to get married?” Hakoda thinks for a moment then corrects himself. “Would you be okay if we got married? If  I  got married?”

Hakoda knows that in theory, his daughter wants him to be happy, she wants Bato to be happy. But, he knows Katara still has complicated emotions over Kya, still misses her deeply, and that her wanting them to be happy was different than her feeling comfortable with her dad marrying someone else.

Sokka, Hakoda knows, harbours somewhat similar feelings, though he leans more towards the opinion that Kya would have wanted her two best friends to be happy, would have wanted his dad to find love again, and if nothing else, Sokka has a few more years worth of memories of Bato being around and taking care of them.

Katara lets go of her necklace and sighs. “I don’t know.” She looks a bit surprised at her own honesty. “I guess? I want you to be happy, and I know now that you’ll always love mom and that Bato isn’t trying to replace her, but, it’s just…”

“Weird?” Hakoda offers.

Katara shrugs. “Yeah. It’s a little weird.”

They sit in a silence of understanding for a few moments before Hakoda clears his throat. “Well, as I said, Bato and I haven’t spoken about marriage yet, but if we do then I’ll check with you and Sokka first, okay?” Hakoda waits until Katara meets his gaze again. “I’m not going to do anything that hurts you.”

Katara smiles, a little watery, before leaning over and giving Hakoda a brief hug.

It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy because, after that conversation with Katara, the topic of marriage keeps appearing in his thoughts. Really, there’s nothing tangible that they can gain from getting married. There are no illusions of virtue that they need to maintain - after all, Hakoda has two children and no one has ever accused Bato of celibacy - and they already live together, Bato not even attempting to rebuild his previously destroyed igloo when they arrived home.

Hakoda thinks of his own engagement to Kya, how he had to humble himself in front of her parents to get their blessing, how he had worked so hard leading up to that point to prove that he would be a good husband, that he could provide for them and make her happy, how he spent so many nights carving designs into whalebone before Kanna eventually gave him her necklace to gift. It had been terrifying, anxiety-inducing and wonderful, the mixture of confidence and worry that he felt every time he looked at his half-finished carving and every time there was a moment with Kya where he thought, “ This is it!”

Bato doesn’t have parents anymore, nor does he have any other family members that Hakoda could ask to give him their blessing. If Bato was interested in marrying Hakoda, they already know that Kanna would give them her blessing easily, even casually. They have nothing to prove to one another; they’ve been to war together, have hunted together for years, and even with Bato’s scarred arm and the slight limp that Hakoda has gained, it’s clear to both of them that they can provide for one another.

Hakoda knows that they would have no issue getting the tribe to acknowledge their marriage, arguably the most important part of the wedding ceremony. Half the children in the village already refer to Bato as ‘Chief’, ignoring the slight smile and correction from Bato and their parents that  technically   that’s not his title. And considering that no one has even tried to set Bato up with one of the nice Northerners that blush when he makes eye contact with them, and the fact that   some  of the adults in the village - the ones that remember how long Bato’s been pining after Hakoda, the way that he used to go out of his way to spend time with him and his family, despite his self-proclaimed dislike of babies - have been asking if they’re going to be seeing any tall, dark-haired, strong-jawed children anytime soon, well, it’s pretty obvious that everyone has already written Bato and Hakoda off as a forever thing.

Hakoda is pretty sure that they’re right.

He knows that he should actually talk to Bato about this, instead of just bouncing the thought around in his head, weighing the pros and cons of marriage before he’s even found out if Bato  wants   to get married. They’re pretty happy as is, Hakoda thinks, as he braids Bato’s hair in the morning, making sure not to pull too tightly as he threads the strands through beads that match his own. Bato has never liked too much fuss, has always been a little more private and withdrawn than Hakoda; maybe he would think that a wedding would just be a waste of time, too many people getting involved in their private business. It’s always a balancing act with Bato, between him wanting to show that he’s in love, that he   is  loved by the man that he’s been pining after for years, the desire to show slight affection with him in public, and his discomfort of being so open, so obvious to the public eye. It’s a balance that Hakoda isn’t always perfect at maintaining - sometimes pushing Bato too far when he pulls his down to kiss him at the end of council meetings, or when he introduces Bato as ‘his partner’ first, instead of ‘second-in-command’ - but it’s a balance that he’s always ecstatic to try and perfect and maintain.

Finally, weeks after his talk with Katara, as he’s rubbing soothing balm into Bato’s shoulder, he asks, “Bato?”

Bato hums. “Yes, Koda?”

“Ever thought about getting married?”

Bato turns his head to look at Hakoda, eyebrows furrowed. “If this is you asking, this is a terrible proposal, so the answer is no.”

Hakoda laughs and shakes his head. “No, no, not a proposal, I’m just. Wondering, I guess, if you ever thought about marriage or…. Or kids? The future, I guess.”

Children are a touchy subject, he knows, but he might as well get all the awkward conversation out of the way now.

Bato’s answer is immediate. “We are not having any more kids, Sokka and Katara are  more  than enough and they’re not even mine.”

“You know that’s not  totally  true,” Hakoda mumbles. Bato smiles a bit at that, reaches across his chest to lay a hand on Hakoda’s forearm.

“Besides, I’m getting  old  , Hakoda, I don’t even think I could…   have  a kid,” He levels a look with Hakoda, trying to put the emphasis on the right words so that Hakoda knows what he’s trying to say. It works, and briefly, Hakoda remembers back to Bato’s youth, when his voice dropped, when he got his growth spurt, the way he was so proud when the tribe finally stopped shoving him with the women and let him learn how to hunt and fight. Bato has either ignored or changed so many of the functions that   would  allow them to have a biological child together for so long, and Hakoda understands his uncertainty. “Besides, the only kids I like are yours, and who knows if you can go three for three.”

“You seem to like Toph pretty good.”

“Toph doesn’t count,” Bato says defensively, but his tone has a slightly frustrated edge to it, showing he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Hakoda rolls his eyes as they laugh for a moment.

“Okay, fine, she doesn’t count. But, how about marriage?”

Bato sighs. “You  know  that the only person I’ll ever want to marry is you.” He says it so casually, with such neutrality, as if it’s just a fact of life - like he was telling Hakoda that summer days were long and that the water that surrounded them was cold. It makes Hakoda’s heart feel like bursting, hearing Bato’s declaration of love, even if it's a few years later than Bato wanted it to be. Hakoda leans over from where he’s kneeling on their bed to kiss Bato’s cheek.

“You know, Katara asked me if we were going to get married.”

“Oh?” Bato says as he shifts away to pull on his nightshirt, now that they’ve thoroughly abandoned lotioning his scar.

“Yeah, she said that she would probably be okay with it. You know how much she misses Kya,” Hakoda adds hastily, feeling a bit guilty. Bato nods as he lays down in the furs, watching as Hakoda goes to put out of the candles that are illuminating the room. It’s almost winter, and as the lights flicker out, the room is soon sent into near pitch darkness. Hakoda leaves one candle lit, and when he lays down next to Bato he admires how the light and shadows dance around his face.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the noise of shifting bodies as they intertwine limbs and get comfortable. Hakoda ends up face pressed against Bato’s strong chest, enjoying the warmth and softness of it as he lightly tosses his own arm across Bato’s waist. He nestles in when he feels the weight of Bato’s scarred arm fall across his shoulder, hand hanging loosely down Hakoda’s back. Bato nuzzles slightly into Hakoda's hair, though he'll never admit it. It’s comfortable and familiar, and Hakoda can’t believe that he gets to feel this safe, this warm, this  happy  after all the years of war and violence and suffering that they had to live through.

“If the kids are okay with it,” Bato’s chest rumbles as he speaks, tickling Hakoda’s cheek. “Of course I would like to marry you.”

Hakoda smiles into Bato’s chest, feeling giddy like he’s a teenager again. “Okay. We can think about it and talk later.”

Later comes soon than either of them expected, when Hakoda and Sokka end up hiking up a mountain to hunt a polar bear that chased some of the Northern Water Tribe members. Hakoda doesn’t really want to kill it - if the creature wanted the Northerners dead, then they wouldn’t be complaining about the ‘dangerous wilderness’ to Hakoda - but he knows that if the animal ever ends attacking one of the members for real, then he’ll have a crisis on his hands. They take a sled and begin the long trek up the mountain. They’re partway up the mountain when they find one of the caves that mine for engagement stones in, and they decide to take a rest. Hakoda sits down, watching as his son leans his spear against the wall walks deeper into the cave, unsheathing his sword as he goes.

“Don’t go too far, Sokka, we’re not stopping for long.”

“Ugh, I know, dad, I’ll be fine,” Sokka calls back noncommittally. Hakoda sighs and lets him be. He hears some clanging a few minutes later but decides that Sokka is old enough to waste time and energy if he wants. Once he's done resting, Hakoda stands up and is about to call out for Sokka when he comes scurrying back to the entrance. He dashes to one of the cloth bags that sit on the sled, shoves something in it, before going to collect his weapon. Hakoda raises an eyebrow at him and gets a sheepish smile in response.

They find the polar bear a little further up, and after taking it down, load its body onto the sled. They catch a few gopher-hares and collect the few edible plants that have survived so far into the season as they make their way back down. It’s hours later when they finally arrive back in the village, with Sokka needing to run ahead to get more help the lug the bear and the sled across the vast, flat plain of ice that stretched between their village and the base of the mountain. Despite his displeasure in having to hunt the bear, Hakoda looks at it and thinks about how proud he is of his son, how much of an accomplished hunter and provider he’s become, and how this catch will be nice padding for the village’s winter food stock. The fur will make some excellent clothes, and Hakoda is sure that a few of the animal’s claws and teeth will appear on someone’s wrist or neck as jewelry. It’s after they’ve pushed the sled into the village, and various people descend on it and the various bags filled with plants and other animals, that Sokka calls out, “Hey, there’s carving stones in one of those bags, someone give them back to us when you’re done!”

Someone makes an affirmative sound as they prepare to butcher the animal, and Sokka nods and turns to walk away. Hakoda follows him and looks at him strangely. “Why did take carving stones?”

“So you have something to carve for Bato,” Sokka says it as a statement, but looks confused at his father’s asking. “I thought you and Katara talked about you guys getting married?”

Hakoda sputters. “Yeah but we weren’t planning on getting married  now .”

Sokka shrugs. “That’s why you gotta plan in the carving time, dad! Carving takes a long time! It takes like three weeks if you don’t chip or crack the stone.”

Hakoda can’t bring himself to agree vocally, so he stares ahead for a few seconds until he realizes, “Wait, how do you know how long carving a necklace takes?”

Sokka flushes and starts walking faster.

“Sokka- Sokka, you are  WAY  too young to be marrying the Firelord! Sokka, get back here!”

In the end, Kallik, one of the younger men that Hakoda led in the war, brings four rocks, all shades of dark blue to grey, already cleaned of dirt and blood and wrapped in leather, a few days later, smiling slyly as he passes the lumpy package over. “Good luck, Chief!”

Hakoda mumbles a thank you, and hastily tucks the parcel under his arm and puts them in his and Bato’s room. He tells himself it’s not technically hiding if a blanket just  happens  to fall on top of the container that he’s placed them in, and the container happens to be under a shelf that Bato never looks in. He doesn’t care if Bato finds them, he tells himself, as he pushes them box further into the wall.

He knows that he’ll have to talk to Katara and Bato about this more, will have to make sure everyone is fine with it, and then plan the ceremony, all of which will take a while.

But  , he tells himself as he fishes out one of the stones, hiding it in one of his pockets before setting out on his canoe to ‘check the traps’,   all of that can happen once I’m closer to finishing this carving .

The first step of necklace carving, Hakoda remembers, is to shape the stone down to a circle-ish shape, breaking off any protrusions off and then shaving pieces off, little by little, until it’s the right shape to actually carve. Hakoda cracks the stone on his first attempt - not unlike he did twenty years ago when he was carving Kya’s. Hakoda checks the traps and hauls a couple of urchin-crabs back to the village. He drops the broken rock into the sea.

The next week Hakoda goes out to check the guide rope that surrounds the outer wall of the village. One of the children of the village said that the rope had broke in the last wind storm but couldn’t remember where since they had been going out to find otter penguins and had got distracted, and as tedious as it is to walk the entire perimeter of the continuously expanding city, everyone knows that if the rope is broken, then there’s a chance someone could get lost in a blizzard. Hakoda volunteers, since everyone else is so busy. Bato offers to come with him, but Hakoda waves him off.

“Your arm has been hurting you,” Hakoda says in the doorway to their igloo. Bato rolls his eyes.

“Doesn’t stop me from walking.”

“Just stay here, love.” Hakoda stretches up, Bato leans down automatically, and Hakoda places a kiss on his lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

He finds the break in the rope just a few minutes past the entrance, ties the pieces together, and continues walking around the perimeter, fishing a new stone out of his pocket.

The second step to necklace carving, once the stone is the correct shape and dimensions, is planning. Each necklace is meant to be unique, meant to represent the recipient and the shared love of the couple. But, the design also depends on the stone, on what the medium will allow. Hakoda is trying to gouge out a tall, deep line in the rock, meant to represent the tall trees of the earth kingdom that surrounded them, that Bato was so impressed by, and under which they first admitted their feelings for each other. He presses either too hard or at the wrong angle, and it splinters, a piece of it chipping off. Hakoda sighs and tosses the broken mineral in one of the tiny ice fishing holes that they use to teach children how to dig through the ice. There are no other breaks in the rope.

Bato goes off to help repair some boats - even with an arm that occasionally seizes up, he’s still one of the best boatsmen in the tribe - and once all of Hakoda’s meetings are done for the day, he’s left with an empty igloo and a few more hours until Bato is likely to return. Hakoda pulls out the second to last stone that he has and starts to carve.

The third step in carving a necklace is to create the eye that either the metal or leather bail will go through to connect it to the choker. It’s not particularly hard, but it’s time-consuming, twisting a blade or tool in circles for hours until it breeches the other side.

The fourth step is connecting it to the leather choker. The fifth step is presenting it.

Hakoda finishes step three, looks at his carving and hates it. The tall lines of what is meant to be a forest seem crooked and nonsensical, the swirls at the bottom barely register as waves, and there are knife marks around the eye look intentional instead of accidental and confuse the setting. It looks sloppy and bad, and even if Bato will accept it happily, Hakoda's stomach turns at the thought of presenting something so poorly crafted to him. He groans and throws it to the side of the room.

He doesn’t know if carving Kya’s necklace was easier or if he just repressed how hard it was from his memories. It all seems silly, all the stress when he and Bato are perfectly happy as is. He wonders if he should just forget it, just give it up, let good things stay as they are. Except.

Except he knows that underneath his reasonable tone, and understanding air, Bato wants to marry him. Hakoda doesn’t know what he did in a past life, what spirit he worshiped or what king he saved, but he must have done something because in his life he’s had two great loves and both of them wanted to marry him.

  You know the only person I’ll ever want to marry is you.

Bato wants and asks for so little. He wants Hakoda to lay next to him as they sleep, he wants Hakoda to help him rub his shoulder, he wants Hakoda to go fishing with him, he wants Hakoda to not ask about kids or his body or his medication, he wants Hakoda to kiss him in the privacy of their home and hold his hand for a few minutes when they walk outside. Bato wants Hakoda to marry him, and like all the other open secrets about himself, he’ll never tell Hakoda outright, leaving him to put together the clues together until he can find out how to make Bato happy.

Hakoda is pretty sure that’s all he wants, really; to make Bato happy. He deserves it.

He hears Bato stomping the snow off his boots as he walks into their home. Hakoda sighs, and gets up, collects the rock he threw and slips it into his pocket. He goes to greet his lover, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s torso under the gist of ‘warming him up’, even though his parka was plenty warm, and thinks about how he has one more stone left.

He swears that he’s not trying to put it off, but Hakoda figures he should talk to his family before he moves forward. He talks to Katara to make sure she’s still ‘okay’ with the prospect of him marrying Bato. She gives somewhat the same answer, though she concedes, “You guys are pretty much married already, so…”

Sokka is already enthusiastic about it, though Hakoda is pretty sure that’s just because a wedding ceremony is an as good excuse as any to invite all their friends back. Privately, Sokka finally admits to Hakoda that he thinks mom would have wanted her two best friends to be happy, even, or maybe especially if it’s with each other.

He talks to Kanna, even if traditionally that’s meant to be Bato’s job. Hakoda figures Kanna is the closest thing Bato has left to a mother. As expected, Kanna is fine with it, thinks it’s a bit silly that Hakoda seems to stress about what’s clearly a sure thing. Hakoda doesn’t know how to explain to his mom that even if it’s a sure thing, even if Bato will say yes if Hakoda hands him a piece of clay attached to a string, he wants it to be right. He wants Bato to look back at their engagement and feel satisfied and fulfilled.

Hakoda is still nervous about carving but the unbearable pressing of anxiety has lifted some. The last stone left is a dark grey-blue, less glossy than the other prospective stones, and more opaque. Hakoda begins to carve it during the dead of winter when everyone in the village only spends a few hours a day outside, and they only step foot outside the village if completely necessary. This means that much of his secrecy of the matter is gone, but whether Bato is intentionally staying out in the main area of their igloo during the day, or if he’s there because the fire there is warmer than their bedroom, Hakoda doesn’t know. He sits on their bed of furs, trying to keep his swears quiet as he chips and carves away at the stone. The sounds of Bato just a room over, speaking to Katara and Sokka, laughing at their jokes, and going about his day seems to calm Hakoda's nerves and steady his hands.

It takes him less time than his previous attempts. He’s limited the lines of the trees to just two vertical ones, one slightly taller than the other. The waves at the bottom now have mirrored swirls at the top, land sandwiched between sea and sky. Hakoda is more carful carving out the eye of the pendant and is surprised when he actually adores it when it’s finished. He carves some designs into some whale teeth and polar bear claws, knowing that even though the addition of bone will make the necklace more noticeable overall, it’ll draw some of the attention away from the pendant, and he suspects that Bato will appreciate the small amount of privacy and intimacy that will afford him.

Hakoda knows that Bato knows what he’s doing. The way he smiles when he sees Hakoda retreat into their bedroom after he’s done working for the day, the way he sees the new callouses and cuts on Hakoda’s fingers and doesn’t ask where they came from, only presses small kisses onto them because he knows it’ll make Hakoda smile. If Hakoda wasn’t certain before, when he finds a piece of spare leather - raggedy and unusable - but cut to a specific and familiar length, just casually laying on Hakoda’s desk, it’s confirmation.

He gets a new leather band, of course, one that’s just slightly thicker than traditional, soft on the inside and tanned a deep, dark blue. He punches the holes for the bones with Bato leaning over his shoulder, telling him where he wants a tooth and where he wants a claw. Neither of them mentions how the centre of the leather is left blank for now.

Their engagement is nothing like Hakoda and Kya’s was. Hakoda proposed to Kya in the spring and they got married in the summer; he had asked while they were outside, basking in the sun, and with some of Kya’s friends peering around igloos to watch as the scene unfolded. Hakoda had stuttered, had proclaimed his love for Kya, had made her laugh as he helped her place Kanna’s necklace around her neck.

In contrast, winter has only just started to end, the sky only just barely brightening for about an hour or so each day, before it plunges back into darkness. All of their friends are either dead, in the Northern Water tribe, or busy with their own families. Hakoda doesn’t even ask Bato, not really, he just slides the finished necklace across the table, ignoring the way Sokka and Katara gape at it. Bato looks at it and smiles, gingerly picks it up and ties the leather around his neck. He asks Katara to make sure the knot is secure, and Hakoda’s heart soars when she readily gets up, moves Bato’s hair to the side and readjusts it. The necklace sits at the base of his neck, the teeth and claws sprawl across his collarbones in the most delectable way, and the pendant sits flat on his chest, looking so natural and casual, that Hakoda can trick himself into thinking it’s always been there.

Bato looks happy wearing his necklace, he looks comfortable when his hand gets finding its way to the pendant, nails finding all the groves and uneven surfaces that Hakoda couldn’t smooth away.

There are few opportunities for anyone else to see it, with as cold and dark as it is. Even inside some of the newly build halls and offices, most people still wear an outer coat, to fight off any chill that passes through the complex halls, designed to keep the wind from blowing straight in. But the few who do see it get a sly grin on their face, wiggle their eyebrows and give Bato a playful nudge.

“Finally making an honest man out of Hakoda, huh?” Some people joke and even Hakoda can’t help but laugh.

“More honest than you, at least.” Bato sometimes fires back, earning a gasp of fake insult.

They’re busy, Hakoda and Bato, the village, their children, the whole world, and weddings take time. Hakoda asks Sokka and Katara if they have a preference for when the wedding is. They hem and haw for a while, before tentatively asking if it can wait until spring.

“Zuko won’t be able to visit for long if there’s not enough sun,” Sokka mentions shyly. Hakoda shoots him a look that he hopes reads as  We Will Be Speaking About You Dating This Firebender Soon But Not Right Now.  Sokka dutifully looks away.

Later as Bato is laying down next to Hakoda in bed, Hakoda asks, “Are you okay if we wait until spring?”

Bato shrugs. “I’ve waited for decades, I can wait two more months.”

When they sleep, Hakoda can feel the cool press of bone and stone against his cheek. It’s more comforting than he ever thought it could be.

The sun has returned, and with it brings new chores to do, new game to hunt, new responsibilities, and various children that were born during the winter months. There’s plenty to do, and every second of light brings them one second closer to the winter once again. There are boats to build and repair, there are walls that were damaged by wind and snow, there are stocks that need replenishing, and children that need hunting, singing, dancing, fighting, and history lessons.

Hakoda is pretty sure that everyone should be anxiously anticipating the start of all their work.

Instead, everyone is gathered in the new village square - complete with archways and fountains around the sides, columns that hold up a domed roof, and a ground that doesn’t shift when people walk over the same place too many times - throwing decorations on any available surface. The columns have been covered in swathes of fabric and dyed ropes, various beadwork decor has been hung from the ceiling and archways, carved bones have been placed around the area for luck, and good tidings, and just to make the place look interesting. Hakoda isn’t sure if it’s because no one has been out long enough for their clothes to get overly messy, but he’s pretty sure that everyone is dressed up in their more formal coats and boots.

It throws him off guard. Weddings in the Southern Water tribe truly aren’t that grand of an affair, but he assumes that the influx of Northerners has resulted in their more festive approach gaining some traction.

“Or maybe, they’re excited that their chief is getting married.” Bato offers, smiling at Hakoda when he presents his theory. Hakoda smiles back.

“I think I saw some men weeping when they realized they officially lost their shot with you.”

Bato rolls his eyes. “They never had a chance with me.” It’s a joke, and Hakoda wants to laugh, but Bato places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Hakoda reads between the lines.

He doesn’t tease Sokka about running off with Zuko - the Firelord bundled up in more red and blue fabric that Hakoda has ever seen on him at once - the minute he steps off his ship. He doesn’t tease Katara about the way she shyly kisses Aang when he slides off Appa, before going to help Toph navigate her way across the ice. Bato is excited to see the young earth bender and starts an easy conversation with her and Suki and he leads them around the village, letting Katara go off to hold hands with Aang away from her father’s watchful eye.

They marry a few hours later, with nearly the whole village pressed against each other to watch as the two of them kneel in front of one of the elders, the old woman standing tall and proud in her furs despite the slight hunch she has in her spine.

She asks Bato if Hakoda has presented him with a betrothal necklace.

“Yes,” He says, voice deep and happy, and so soothing, even as dozens of eyes - including Hakoda’s children and their friends - stare at them. He digs the leather and pendant out from under his clothes, allowing the elder to see the design. The elder nods and smiles.

“Do you have a gift to present to your betrothed?” She asks Bato. He nods and pulls out a cloth gift. He hands it to Hakoda, who has to restrain himself from thanking him as he unwraps the fabric. A small gasp escapes him, when he sees the ivory of carved walrus tusk, carved and sharpened into a knife, the leather around the handle soft and worn but well cared for. It was Bato’s father and had been passed down in his family for generations. For a second, Hakoda almost turns to asks if Bato is certain if he wants to give it to him, before realizing that Bato wants it to be Hakoda’s so that it can go to Sokka. Bato wants to pass his family heirloom onto Hakoda’s children, because, and Hakoda’s heart skips a beat when the realization finally hits him, they’ll be the same family.

“Thank you,” Hakoda says a little watery. The woman in front of them takes that as acceptance of the gift.

“And do both of you intend to provide for each other and your family? Will you work together in the light of the summer, collecting what the Spirits give you, and in the darkness of winter, when only Tui smiles upon us?”

Both of them nod, and they hear an excited titter go through the crowd.

“Do either of you have any qualms or objections to your union.” They both shake their heads hastily and Bato’s necklace clicks and clacks as he moves his head. The excitement in the crowd grows as the elder clears her throat and calls, “And does the tribe accept this marriage?”

The crowd erupts with excitement, Hakoda can just filter out his own children cheering, Aang’s ‘whooping’ and Toph’s cackling at the sound. People clap and shout, and he and Bato can’t help but look at each other and laugh at the commotion. The Northerners have definitely spread their own modified traditions throughout the village. The elder in front of them works to control her own smile as she waits for the noise to settle.

“The tribe has acknowledged this union. Chief Hakoda, Bato, you are now wed.”

The cheering starts up again and Hakoda and Bato stand up, holding each other’s hand tightly. Hakoda surges up and presses a kiss to Bato’s lips, earning more cheers and a few whistles, and an exaggerated gag from Sokka, and grins when Bato blushes and pushes him lightly.

Hakoda can already tell that they’ll have to just write this day off, judging by excited energy that comes and goes through the crowd like waves. Hakoda wouldn’t be surprised if he found some people passing around fermented wine. He barely cares though, when he looks up to Bato and sees him smiling wider than Hakoda has ever seen him before.

He’s still gripping Hakoda’s hand, still blushing from the kiss and all the attention, and Hakoda can’t stop himself from leaning up and kissing him again. Bato doesn’t push him away this time, even though his flush gets darker.

“Worth the wait?” Hakoda asks.

Bato nods. “Yeah. It was pretty worth it.”

[sou-ver-2-0]

What if,,,, Sara Adopted Gin? Also I’m looking forward to staying here!

I’m sorry for making you wait so long! I wasn’t expecting a drabble prompt right away, and this prompt threw me off guard. I didn’t know how to tackle this idea literally, since it’s pretty important to me that Sara is a kid who lives with her parents. I know you can change anything in an AU, but making Sara so independent wouldn’t feel like Sara to me… So, I decided to tackle the idea figuratively instead. I still tried to make this a cute story for Sara and Gin, so I hope you will enjoy!

Becoming Mom

Gin spat out his soup on the table. “This is too spicy, meow!”

The crying doll Tia Safalin wrung her hands in despair and stared mournfully at the ceiling. “Does no one appreciate my cooking?”

Gin barked at her loudly in response. Sitting next to him, Sara covered her mouth with a napkin to hide her smile.

“No one at all?” Safalin sobbed.

“I hate peppers, woof! Stupid Melon Soda Lady. I thought you knew everything about us!”

“B-but peppers are necessary for the flavor! Please, please try again!”

The boy howled like a wolf and tossed his spoon at her. Safalin squeaked and blocked her face with her large hat. When she peeked out again, she was pouting.

“Little boy, if you won’t eat your meal, you’ll receive a penalty—”

Sara had heard enough. She stood straight up and looked at the pathetic Floor Master with steel in her eyes. “He said he doesn’t like peppers!” she said fiercely.

Safalin cowed. “What? This doesn’t concern you…”

“Make the soup again without peppers,” Sara insisted. Gin howled again, and Sara put her hands on the child’s shoulders, quieting him.

Safalin blinked rapidly as though she would burst into tears. Sara held her breath and stood her ground. She tried to pretend that this was just another kendo match in middle school, and the doll in front of her was just an annoying opponent. Just a bully classmate. Sara had dealt with far more fearsome opponents than this.

The doll broke eye contact first. “Very well! I’ll just make another pot of soup with no peppers then! Since trying new food is apparently a crime!” She waved her arms melodramatically and swept out of the room. Behind the door, they heard the sound of loud weeping.

Sara’s knees buckled and she sat back down. She shut her eyes and realized that she was shaking. What was I thinking?! I could have gotten myself killed over something stupid…

“GO SARA!! WOOO!!”

Sara opened her eyes and saw the room was suddenly energized. Nao was cheering Sara’s name and clapping. Beside her, Reko whistled. Across the room, Alice joined in the applause with some choice words to describe how even prison meals were better than Safalin’s garbage. Q-Taro thumped his silverware on the table and cheered louder than anyone, his voice booming.

Sitting across from her, Keiji gave the girl a thumbs-up and grinned. “That’s our Sara,” he said.

“I—come on, you guys—”

Sara was interrupted by Gin throwing his arms around her waist and hugging her tight. “You were so cool, Big Sis Sara!

Sara had to smile. Gin could melt her heart like nobody else could.

She looked across the room once more at everyone’s smiling faces. On the opposite end of the room, she saw Kanna clapping timidly. And beside the girl was Sou, whose face was as red as their soup. He rolled his eyes and laid his hand over Kanna’s, silencing her. Sara locked eyes with him and frowned. The man visibly gulped and he broke eye contact first, just like the cowardly doll had done. He buried his face in his empty bowl as though he were still eating it.

Sara grinned wider and leaned her head on top of Gin’s. Maybe that stunt was worth it after all.

…

After dinner, Sara walked with Gin back to his room. She was still worried about him, and she could tell that the kid was delighted to have her company.

“Hey Big Sis Sara?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Um…Was I wrong to spit out my food, meow?”

Sara blinked in surprise at Gin’s unusual self-consciousness. The boy normally did and said whatever he pleased. “Why are you asking me now?”

Gin kicked the floor in embarrassment. “The last time I spat out my food, Mom said I was a bad boy, woof…”

“That’s different,” Sara retorted confidently. “Your mom is your mom. She loves you. Of course you should respect her. But Tia Safalin isn’t your mom! She’s our kidnapper. So she doesn’t deserve anything from us! You behaved exactly like you should!”

Gin’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes!”

Gin skipped ahead of her down the hall. “Okay! You’re my mom now, meow!”

“What?!” Sara caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder again. “N-now hold on a minute! I’m still getting used to being a big sister!”

“Oh…Woof…” Gin smiled bashfully. “I’m sorry, Big Sis Sara…”

“It’s fine.”

They were standing outside the door to Gin’s room. Gin wasn’t moving.

“You should get some sleep, Gin,” Sara said as gently as she could.

“Um…” Gin’s eyes watered. “Big Sis Sara, would you stay with me? Just for a little bit, meow. I’m a big boy. I don’t need…” He trailed off.

Sara softened. “Of course I will. But you have to let us in, first!”

Gin wiped his eyes and grinned at her. He quickly opened his door and pushed Sara inside.

Shortly afterwards, Sara found herself sitting on the edge of Gin’s bed and holding the boy’s hand. Gin was lying down under his blanket and holding Mew-Chan with his other arm. He wanted to chat for a while about all the attractions he had participated in today, and about all the people he had talked to, and which of their companions he liked, and which ones he didn’t, and what he would be doing if he were back in school now…

Gin finally yawned. He seemed to be drifting off. “Sweet dreams, Mom,” he said.

Sara squeezed Gin’s hand. She didn’t say anything for a minute. “Sweet dreams, Gin,” she replied.

She wasn’t sure if he had heard her. His eyes were closed. Sara let go of Gin’s hand and he didn’t object, so he must have been asleep. She gently stroked his hair, like she imagined his mother would want to do if she were here.

After sitting there a while longer—Sara couldn’t tell how long—she finally stood up and headed back to her own room. Her eyes were burning so she walked quickly, not wanting anyone to see her cry.

I miss you, Mom. I hope you’re okay. I hope Dad found you and took you to the hospital. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I hope you’re both okay. I miss you Mom. It’s hard to be you, Mom. I wish you were here.

[earlybirds-atla-au]

The kids have the first news of the tribe Hama’s heard in decades

“So if you’re Anana’s kid, who’re the rest of you?”

They’d settled themselves into Hama’s camp, for several reasons. It was farther back in the island’s trees, providing more cover from any Fire Navy ships that might be searching for them. It was already set up and decently stocked with supplies Hama said she got from a neighboring island that actually had a population. And it was Hama’s, and she’d offered it to them, the only thing she could offer them, the only thing she’d been able to offer her tribe in over two decades, and it would be unnecessarily cruel to brush that aside.

So Appa had settled into the undergrowth and gone right to sleep, and Aang had laid himself down on the bison’s massive leg and watched the rest of them curiously, and the Water Tribe teens had arranged their sleeping bags around Hama’s firepit. It was a shame they couldn’t light it - a night with your tribe around a campfire was just a part of daily life in the South Pole, and would’ve given them some grounding sense of normalcy.

Hama looked like she could use that right now. The full moon gave enough light to see by, at least, and she kept staring at them all like she couldn’t believe they were actually there. They all shared their food - a basic community practice in the Water Tribe, one that nearly reduced Hama to tears when she bit into blubbered seal jerky for the first time in decades. The kids tried the little shriveled fruits that were not unlike sea prunes, which Hama said were ocean kumquats. Aang had immediately decided he wasn’t a fan, but the Water Tribe teens had decided they were good. Not as good as actual sea prunes, but passable. And they had water now too, wonder of wonders - Aang had mentioned that Appa was probably thirsty and that their own waterskins were running low, and Hama had immediately gone to the sea. She’d come back with enough desalinated water to create an ice trough and fill it, leaving the kids gaping in awe. She’d given Aang and Appa some curious looks while the bison had drunk his fill, but she hadn’t asked any questions - her attention had soon been taken up with the Water Tribe kids.

“I’m Kya,” Kya said between bites of ocean kumquat. “Chief Oomailiq and Buniq’s daughter.”

Hama stared at her. “...Where do I even start with that?” she said at last. “Buniq’s a baby.”

Kya snorted. “Mom’s forty.”

“Tides, I’m old,” Hama muttered. “And Chief Oomailiq? Actually, no, that makes sense, kid always did have a good head on his shoulders. When did he get elected?”

“The first time? Ten years ago,” Kya said proudly.

“He keeps getting reelected?”

“He’s a good leader.”

Hama nodded, looking a little dazed at the fact that someone she only remembered as a teenager was now her tribe’s chief. “Good for him. What...what happened to Chief Akkikiktok?”

“Uh,” said Bato, “she retired.”

“And?”

“...Polar bear-dog,” Bato muttered. “It was years ago, we were just little kids. It spent a week prowling around the village, nearly killed my aunt. Akkikitok went out and took care of it before it could try to get anyone else.”

“Sounds like her,” Hama whispered. “At least it wasn’t the Fire Nation.”

“There haven’t been any raids,” Hakoda said quietly. “Not since...you left.”

“Good,” Hama said fiercely. “That was the point. I only surrendered because they said they’d leave the rest of the tribe alone.”

“We see their ships sometimes,” Kya said. “Not often. They’ll just...sail by the edge of the ice fields. But they never attack.”

“Probably because there’s nothing left worth attacking,” Hakoda muttered.

Hama grimaced. “I don’t know if I should be insulted or relieved. Are...aren’t there any Waterbenders now? Have any been born?”

“No,” Kya said quietly. “Not in any of the tribes. You were the last one.”

Hama closed her eyes. “Damn,” she whispered.

“...If you don’t mind me asking,” Kya said, “how did you escape?”

Hama took a deep breath. “I really can’t talk about that. Not right now.”

“That’s okay,” Kya said quickly. “You don’t have to. But...can you just tell us...did anyone else…?”

“No,” Hama said shortly. “No, I was the only one who got out. And there’s no way to save the others.”

The kids all perked up. “The others?” Kya repeated. “Are they - ”

“They kept us alive,” Hama said darkly. She looked at Kya. “If you’re Buniq’s daughter...that means you’re Arrluk’s granddaughter.”

Kya jolted. “Is - is he - ?”

“He’s alive,” Hama said. “Or he was when I left, at any rate.”

Kya put a hand to her mouth and started crying. Hakoda scooted to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Is there any way we could help them?” he asked, while Kya got her tears under control.

“I cannot even begin to list all the ways that’s impossible,” Hama said.

“But you got out.”

“And I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.” Hama frowned at him. “So whose kid are you, then?”

Hakoda straightened. “Uh...you know my mom. She said you were close friends. Kanna?”

Hama went completely still.

“And my dad’s Iluak,” Hakoda added.

“Kanna?” Hama croaked, looking Hakoda up and down.

“Yeah.”

Hama took a breath. And another, and another, very fast. “You’re Kanna’s kid?”

“Yeah...”

All three teens were looking at her curiously now, Kya having wiped away the last of her tears. Aang even sat up on Appa’s leg to say, “Hey, you’re, uh...breathing a little fast there. Are you okay?”

Hama looked on the verge of hyperventilating. “And she married Iluak?” It wasn’t quite a shriek.

“Uh,” said Hakoda, “yeah?”

“Iluak?”

Hakoda looked at his friends helplessly.

“Cousin,” Bato said gently, “are you okay?”

“Fine,” Hama bit out, still panting. “Would you excuse me?” She grabbed a clay jar from her pile of empties and stalked toward the beach.

“...What was that about?” Hakoda asked.

“No idea,” Bato said.

“Mom never said Dad and Hama didn’t get along!”

Kya opened her mouth, seemed to think for a moment, and closed it.

“Maybe your mom just...didn’t want to speak ill of the...captured?” Bato offered.

Kya opened her mouth again, only to close it again and put a hand to the lower half of her face and inhale around her fingers.

“...Kya?” Hakoda asked.

“Nope,” Kya muttered, “no idea.”

She didn’t look at either of the boys, but Aang caught her gaze. They exchanged a pair of looks that Hakoda couldn’t decipher - Kya’s face was blank, and Aang looked slightly amused - but then Aang’s eyes flitted towards the beach. “Whoa,” he breathed. “Now that’s waterbending!”

The kids all turned to see streams of water flinging themselves out of the ocean to swirl around one emaciated Waterbender, who was spinning around in the sand like some kind of frustrated liquid tornado.

“...She’s more upset about your dad than she was when I told her my grandfather was dead,” Bato said.

Hakoda put his face in his hands and groaned. “Why?”

Kya sighed.

“Do you think she’s gonna hate me?” Hakoda asked. “She’s supposed to be, like, my aunt, and now she’s gonna hate me!”

“She’s not gonna hate you,” Bato said, but he didn’t sound sure.

“What does she even have against my dad, anyway?”

There was a shout from the beach, and they looked back to see Hama fling the empty clay jar up into the air. The water streams followed it, and it shattered on impact. The clay shards rained down on the sand while Hama stared out at the ocean.

“Welp,” said Hakoda, “she hates me.”

“She’s coming back,” said Bato.

Hama was, indeed, coming back. She grabbed another jar - not an empty one - and ripped off its seal to chug several gulps of its contents while the kids stared.

“...Sorry about that,” she said after a moment, wiping her chin. “I just...was not expecting to hear that Kanna got...married.” She had another sip of whatever was in that jar. “She was pretty adamant about not getting married, after running away from the North.” Another sip. “What on earth possessed her to marry Iluak?”

“Uh,” said Hakoda, “Dad says he won her over with his sense of humor…?”

“His sense of - oh my moon,” Hama said, and she turned around and stalked right back out to the beach.

“She hates me,” Hakoda said miserably.

“She’ll get over it,” Kya said. “Give her some time.”

Hama came back again after just a few minutes. “Sorry,” she said again. “It’s been a weird night.”

“You’re telling us,” Aang muttered, doubtlessly thinking about everything that’d happened back at the temple that evening. And the flight to the Fire Nation that’d taken up the whole day. And the whole Hei Bai debacle last night. It’d been a weird seventy-two hours.

“So,” Hama said, fixing Hakoda with eyes that were now slightly glazed-over. “You’re Kanna’s kid.”

“Uh,” said Hakoda, “yeah.”

She stared at him. “...You have her eyes,” she said at last. 

“Uh...thanks?”

“How...how is she?”

“She’s...she’s good.”

“Is she happy?”

“Uh...for the most part, yeah?” Hakoda rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, she probably misses me, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, and - ”

Hama immediately straightened, eyes becoming more lucid. “Since you - oh, gods, no. No, no, no, don’t tell me, don’t tell me you - they - what are you kids even doing here?”

“What?” Hakoda asked.

“Why are you here?” Hama demanded. “In the Fire Nation? Are you kids alright, what - what happened? Were you captured? Who took you?”

“Uh, no,” Hakoda said, “we weren’t captured, we’re okay!” He ignored the look Bato shot him, which was very clearly meant to remind him that they had been captured several times since starting on their adventure, but Hakoda didn’t think Hama needed to know that right now. “We’re on a mission!” he added, very seriously.

“A mission,” Hama repeated. “Why are a bunch of teenagers on a mission?”

“We were kind of the only people available and time was of the essence - ”

Hama had another sip of whatever was in that jar. “What kind of mission brings a bunch of kids to the Fire Nation?”

“Actually this was just a detour,” Kya said. “We’re trying to get to the North Pole.”

“The North - why?” Hama blurted. “Did they send you kids for help? The North don’t give a turtle-seal’s shit about us! They abandoned us, they secured their own border and left us at the Fire Nation’s mercy!”

“Yeah,” Bato said, “but Aang needs to learn waterbending.”

Hama blinked at him. Then she looked past him at Aang, who was still reclining on Appa’s leg. He gave her a little wave. “Hi! I’m Aang.”

Hama stared at Aang’s yellow clothes, and his glider staff, and his sky bison. “...What?”

“I’m the Avatar,” Aang said sheepishly.

“...What?”

[meggz0rz]

The It Couple - Valentine’s Day Special!

(art by @file13thetrashcan)

IT’S BACK, BITCHES

This one is a gift for my beloved friend @ideasthatbuildcities, to thank her for being so wonderful and for supporting my work from the very beginning. So here it is - a special chapter from my very first Inuyasha story, “The It Couple!” If you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can find it..

HERE!

So without further ado...

THE IT COUPLE VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL!

Or, alternatively: SUPLEXES AND THE POWER OF ‘NOPE’

“Kanna, do we have to?” Kohaku grumbled, thumping his chin onto the table surface and fixing her with his best childish pout. “I never agreed to this.”

His girlfriend took a loud, bubbly sip through her straw and set her now-empty soda down, fixing him with that deathly serious stare over the lenses of her black-rimmed reading spectacles. “Do you hate Inuyasha? Do you hate Kagome?” She leaned forward, her whisper barely audible over the hum of noise in the university food court. “Do you hate your sister?”

What the hell kind of question - “Of course I don’t!”

Her dark eyes narrowed before returning to her enormous textbook. “Alright, then.”

“I just - I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day, Kanna,” Kohaku protested, sliding his hand forward over the table to cover hers, “And it’s our third year together. Shouldn’t we, you know, spend a little time, just the two of us? I was gonna make us a nice dinner, and maybe rent one of your favorite movies and just curl up on the couch…”

“We are perfectly capable of enjoying each other’s company every other day of the year,” Kanna said, not looking up from the text she was perusing but intertwining her fingers with his nonetheless, “Valentine’s Day is a scam invented to sell greeting cards. It’s utterly meaningless. I don’t need a holiday to encourage my affection for you, dearest.” A light squeeze of his hand, though her expression never changed.

Kohaku sighed. Once again, her logic was starting to win out. It always did. It was the thing about her that he admired most, and the thing that most often would drive him to near insanity.

“So we’re stuck babysitting my nieces and those two crazy Takahashi kids, while everyone else gets to go out and have fun?”

Kanna was still reading. Research for a doctoral thesis was always intense, Kohaku knew, but Kanna’s commitment to her academic career was incredible, even by those standards. He waited patiently for her to finish her paragraph, and the silence between them was interrupted only by the irritating squeak of a highlighter dragged across the page, until she finally sat back and looked up at him again, removing her reading glasses.

“You’re welcome to join the others at whatever loud, expensive nightclub they end up at,” she said quietly, and though the statement would have seemed harsh and blunt to any other listening ears, he knew she was just speaking plainly. As she always did. Kanna language. “I made a promise to Kagome. And if everyone broke promises society would crumble and fall. Besides, they have a better home-theatre setup than we do.”

“You literally only said yes for the surround sound and the reclining plush seats.” Kohaku broke into a small smile as the realization dawned on him.

Kanna didn’t return the smile, but if she had it would have honestly terrified him and made him wonder what sort of alternate universe he’d woken up in. “You also seem to be underestimating the benefit of watching small children who go to sleep early in the evening. I still have an entire wing of the house for my own particular use, if you’ll recall.” She looked off in the distance, as if lost in thought. “Kagome bought me custom furniture when I moved in. All black.”

Kohaku felt the heat flush up the back of his neck, and as he reached up to tug at his collar, he realized his hands were trembling.

Kanna noticed the tremor too. “Is that a brain damage tremor or an I-love-Kanna tremor?”

Kohaku snorted with laughter. Only you would say it that way. And I adore you for it. In a world where everyone else shied away from the subject, she would always just ask him about it point-blank.

“Probably both,” he laughed. The tremor slowed and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“AXEL!”

Kagome paused, frowned, and sat back from her laptop, craning her head over her shoulder. The house had been quiet for a few blessed moments, with Inuyasha in his office answering emails from god-knows-who and the kids playing with their toys very nicely and sweetly. So of course, she’d decided to get some much-needed editing work done before they went out for Valentine’s Day tonight. And of course, quiet in the Takahashi household usually meant something insane was about to happen.

With a heavy sigh and a chuckle to herself, she stood up and followed her husband’s voice down the hallway, around the corner, through the massive living room, and into the kids’ game room.

Mimi was hiding behind the doorway, her twin pigtails hanging sideways as she peeked inside. Kagome smiled to herself and crouched low to whisper in the four-year-old’s ear.

“What happened?”

Mimi turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, her little nose red and sniffly, and just pointed hesitantly, her little cherub face pinched with nervousness. “Daddy’s mad.” 

Kagome ruffled her hair reassuringly and stood to walk past her into the room.

Her precious, beloved son stood there in the center of the room, looking sheepish and a bit glum. And her precious, beloved husband was standing facing the opposite wall, bracing himself upright with a clenched fist, with his eyes screwed shut as he seemed to be trying to calm down.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome said, stepping forward. “What happened?”

At the sight of her, Axel immediately ran forward and threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her shirt. “We were just playing! I promise, Mom! I didn’t mean to!”

Kagome suppressed a grin, glancing up at Inuyasha meaningfully.

Finally, Inuyasha took a deep breath and spoke. “You didn’t mean to throw your little sister through the air into the wall?” He pointed at the new Mimi-shaped dent just below the window.

Jesus CHRIST. Kagome’s mouth fell open in stunned silence and she glanced back at Mimi, who was still peeking through the doorway. Sure enough, there it was. A huge bruise starting to form on the little girl’s left arm.

Axel, what the hell! She thought it, but she didn’t say it. “Mimi, sweetheart, are you okay?”

Mimi just nodded, her lower lip quivering a little. She wasn’t crying, not really. She’s a tough little firecracker, gotta give her that. Of course, having to try and keep up with the actual tornado that was her older brother had no doubt given her a spine of steel that belied her mere four years of age.

“Axel,” Kagome looked down at her son, who was still plastered around her waist and clearly doing his best to be cute and small and precious, “Why did you throw your sister?” Even saying it out loud sounded ludicrous.

“A question I’d also like the answer to,” growled Inuyasha, folding his arms across his chest and fixing Axel with his patented stern-father face.

“W-We were playing,” Axel said, his voice muffled into Kagome’s stomach. Kagome gently untangled his arms from around her and stepped backward.

“Playing what?” Inuyasha held out his arms, and Mimi rushed forward and scrambled into them. He held out her arm to examine it, turning it over gently. “Does it hurt?” he asked her, his voice low and soft.

Mimi nodded, glancing at Axel with a guilty expression, like she was scared of ratting her beloved big brother out. Inuyasha placed a featherlight kiss over the bruise, then turned back to their older child. “Playing what, Axel?”

“...Pro wrestling.” Axel mumbled the words.

She’d been married to him now for eight years, so Kagome knew by the minute changes in Inuyasha’s expression when he was about to lose that famous temper of his, so she just gave him her best let-me-handle-this smile and spoke up quickly.

“Did Mimi want to play pro wrestling?”

Axel looked as if that question had never occurred to him. Kagome fought back a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

“You can’t just throw your sister, kid,” Inuyasha said with narrowed golden eyes.

“I didn’t throw her,” Axel said, “I suplexed her.”

There it was. A quirk of Inuyasha’s eyebrow. A snarl curling at the corner of his lips. Down, boy, Kagome thought, crouching down to stare Axel in the eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this, as old as you are,” she said sternly, “but you are not allowed to play pro wrestling in the house. Or anywhere, unless you’re with your Aunt Ayame and she’s taken you to her dad’s gym again. Understand me?”

Axel gave a petulant glance toward the floor. A glance that looked so familiar that it nearly made Kagome crack up and forget that she was trying to do the mom thing right now. “Yes, Mom,” he mumbled.

“Now apologize to Mimi.”

Axel looked over at his sister, who was still hanging on Inuyasha’s hip. He looked truly downtrodden and regretful, and it made Kagome want to just envelop him in her arms and cuddle him, but no, she couldn’t, because that would undermine her whole speech just now -

“I’m sorry, Mimi.”

Inuyasha’s angry expression finally relaxed into general peevedness.

“If you want,” Axel continued, “You can hit me back.”

Dammit, Axel.

“No one is hitting anybody,” Kagome said, gripping Axel’s shoulder tightly enough so he knew she meant it. “Axel, you’re not hitting Mimi, and Mimi, you don’t hit Axel. Are we clear?”

Mimi nodded. Axel just bit his lip.

“Axel!” Inuyasha said sharply.

“I got it, Dad. I’m sorry.” Axel glanced up at Kagome then, those blue eyes of his shining. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll never do it again.”

By the look on Inuyasha’s face, he was buying it just as much as Kagome was. She sent her husband a wink as she said, “Better not.”

“Well,” Inuyasha grumbled as he pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it onto their bed before reaching for the dress shirt he had laid next to it, “Guess that rules out taking the kids to the park this weekend. All we need is for some fucking paps to see that huge honking bruise on Mimi’s arm and then there’ll be headlines for weeks about possible abuse in our household.”

Kagome didn’t respond for several seconds.

“Baby?” He turned and glanced over his shoulder.

She was standing there at her vanity in her bra and jeans, bracing herself upright with both arms and shaking with silent laughter.

He couldn’t help it; he broke into a confused grin. “What the hell are you laughing about?”

She just laughed harder and doubled over over the table. “He - he suplexed her! He physically picked her up and just - “ She mimicked the move, throwing her arms backward over her head, cackling to herself. “I know, I know, it’s not funny and I shouldn’t be laughing and we’re so lucky she didn’t break her arm, but that mental image of Axel just - “ She covered her mouth with one hand and her bare stomach with the other.

“You are terrible,” he chuckled, turning back to the dress shirt and moving to throw it over his shoulders.

“Not my fault he’s exactly like his dad,” she said, “An idiot.”

“Hmph,” he huffed, reaching for the buttons.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Suddenly, Kagome’s hand was on his chest, and she stood there with a huge grin on her face and ran it up and down over his abs. Her touch was light, caressing. “Let me appreciate.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake - “

“Shh,” she said with mock severity, “I just need a moment. Let me have this.”

“You perv,” he said, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers with a mischievous smirk, “Don’t worry. You can have all you want later tonight.”

Kagome’s smile was bright and dazzling as always, with the dimple on her cheek that he loved so much on full display. “Promise?”

He kissed her, and her arms snaked upward around his neck, pulling him closer with a small, delighted squeak.

“Hey, hey, cut that shit out,” he scolded, knowing he likely had a huge stupid smile on his face and not particularly caring, “You - we- have to get dressed. Miroku and Sango and the twins are due here in a few minutes. I mean, unless you wanna go out like that.”

Kagome glanced down at her bra and jeans ensemble. “Hmm, maybe not,” she said with a smirk, “Alright, alright, I’m getting dressed. But you owe me!”

Everything, he thought, watching her as she darted into the closet.

It was so hard to concentrate on the road. Miroku knew he deserved several medals.

The twins were chattering in baby talk in the backseat (twin talk, Sango called it), they were on their fiftieth reprise of goddamn “Wheels on the Bus” playing on the car stereo, and his gorgeous wife was next to him in the front seat in a very short mini-dress with her immaculate legs on full display. And of course, with his wife being the absolute badass she was, she was in the middle of a phone call with a studio executive, not even batting an eye at the cacophony of noise around her.

Finally, mercifully, they arrived at the Takahashi palace and buzzed through the gate. Another seven or so minutes of unloading the kids, the diaper bags, the snack packs (the one thing he hadn’t been prepared for when he became a father - all the stuff they required wherever they went), all of it.

“Need a hand?” Kagome poked her head out of the front door.

“Of course not,” Miroku said, grinning through the bag strap caught between his teeth, his speech muffled, “We’re experts. King and Queen of Parenting.”

“Hey, Kagome!” Sango had both twin girls by the hand and was gently walking them up toward the door. “Is Kanna here yet?”

“She’s on her way. She and Kohaku left right as you guys did, so it should be any minute.” Kagome bent to pick up Kimmy, the younger of the twins, who as of lately was obsessed with her Aunt Kagome and had already been reaching out for her.

“Thank god,” Miroku said through his gritted teeth, stumbling under the weight of all the bags. Suddenly the ever-wonderful Nazuna also appeared through the open doorway, and she immediately took a few of them off his hands. “And thank you, Nazuna.”

Nazuna grinned and disappeared back into the house.

“Any paps at the gate?” Kagome said, peering off in the direction of the entrance to the property, which was hidden behind the hill. Her smile was a little tighter.

“No,” Sango said, “Why? Expecting some?”

Kagome visibly sighed. “We always get a few whenever Kikyou’s back in the press. She announced her new movie this morning, but then again, you probably knew that. It’s sort of you guys’ jobs to know everything.” She turned and led them into the house, and Nazuna, ever ready and devoted, shut the door behind all of them.

“She should be sending you two royalty checks,” Miroku grumbled, “You’ve single-handedly kept her an object of interest in the public eye for the last eight years.” He let the bags dropped and cracked his shoulder. Man, I’m getting old. Just kill me now.

Sango discreetly elbowed him in the side. “Kagome, if you’d rather not go out tonight, that’s okay, we can just - “

“Hell no!” Kagome said, “Oh, I mean, heck no.” She wrinkled her nose and nuzzled at Kimmy’s face. “I made a promise to myself long ago. I’m going to live my life and be happy. Best revenge is living well, right?”

Miroku reached out and ruffled Kagome’s hair. “You’re so mature, Kagome. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She rolled her eyes.

There was the sound of lumbering footsteps, like a stampede.

Kagome shook her head and laughed. “Well, here comes the cavalry.”

And then they appeared around the corner. Mini Inuyasha and Mini Kagome, he called them.

“Kimmy and Ally are here!” shouted Axel, barrelling toward the crowd of them, and for a heart-stopping instant Miroku had a vision of the kid just failing to stop and knocking them all down like bowling pins, but the boy skidded to a stop in his white cotton socks. His silver-white hair was sticking out all over the place. Mini Inuyasha to the core.

Mimi, the little angel, was clearly doing her best to keep up with her big brother but was defeated by her shorter legs. She grinned up at the adults with pure delight. “Uncle Moku!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, feeling his stone heart just melt as he bent to pick her up for a hug. “How are you?”

“Axel spooplexed me!” She held out her arm excitedly, showing off an ugly bruise running down her arm.

“...He what, now?”

“Long story,” Inuyasha said, appearing from the bedroom hallway in a smart tailored suit. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“Uh-huh.” Sango had on her skeptical face.

“Hi, Aunt Sango,” said Axel briefly before turning his attention to Ally, who was still clutching her mother’s hand. “Hi, Ally!”

“Yep, sure,” Miroku grumbled, “Hi, how are you, Axel, my name is Chopped Liver.”

Kagome and Sango giggled, and Miroku turned to glare at them. “Thanks for all the support, ladies, really. Axel, I like your shirt. What does it say?”

Axel gave him a look like he was the biggest idiot in the world and held out the shirtfront to display the writing. “It says ‘AC/DC.’”

Well, excuse the hell out of me, mini Inuyasha.

The phone rang, and Nazuna appeared seemingly from out of nowhere to answer it. “Kanna’s here,” she announced, hanging up.

“So their snacks are in the purple - no, the blue bag,” Sango scrolled through her list, brow furrowed in concentration, “and they’re just starting potty training so we’ve got pull-ups, but I’d put them in real diapers before you put them down for the night. The portable playpen has a roll-out mattress, so you can use that, but no pillows, just a thin blanket.”

Leave it to Sango to make a bulleted list for a few hours’ worth of childcare. Inuyasha sent Kagome a smirk across the room, and she smiled back.

Kanna, meanwhile, was listening intently. Or maybe that was just her face. After eight years of knowing the kid, it was still hard to tell.

Inuyasha glanced just behind her at Kohaku, whose nieces were currently latched onto both of his hands and dragging him around the living room while babbling excitedly. He looked tired already. Welcome to my life, kid.

“You’re spending the night, right?” Kagome asked Kanna when Sango finally seemed satisfied that she’d covered everything. “I don’t know how late we’ll be, or if we’ll have to wait for our table - “

“Kagome,” Miroku was at the bar mixing himself a scotch and seltzer, “You’re married to the most famous movie star in the world. If we have to wait for a table, I’m getting new friends to leech off of.”

“Well, anyway,” Kagome sent Miroku a brief look and continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Your room is all ready to go. Clean sheets, bath towels if you want to shower, et cetera.”

“And no scary movies with the kids awake,” Inuyasha added. That had been a point of contention last time Kanna had babysat.

Kanna turned and fixed him with that unsettling stare. “I’m sorry you think ‘The Crow’ is scary. I thought it was a beautiful love story.”

“It is literally about coming back from the dead to murder people.”

She gave a minute shrug. “You’re the parents.”

“We did it!” Miroku sank into the backseat as if he had lost all feeling in his limbs. “We’re actually going. Nothing went wrong.”

“Don’t jinx it, you idiot!” There was the sound of a gentle smack from the backseat.

“Oooh, do that again.”

“Houshi?”

“Yes, Mrs. Houshi?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Kagome glanced over at Inuyasha. He was shaking his head and chuckling under his breath as he put the car in gear and started down the driveway.

As they approached, they saw them.

The flashes. Just a few, maybe three or four, but they were going off like crazy.

“Ugh,” Kagome said, running a hand over her face, “I knew it.”

“It’ll be alright, baby,” Inuyasha said, reaching over to brush his hand over her knee, “One of the perks of living the life we do - exclusive hidden entrances.”

She knew the car windows were heavily tinted, that there would be no clear images in any of the ill-gotten photos, but she still found herself instinctively slouching lower as they passed through the gate.

“Who’s performing tonight, anyway?” Kagome asked, looping her fingers around her frosted glass of beer, looking around the crowded club.

It was decorated much like an old-timey nightclub from Hollywood’s golden age, with an enormous dance floor and a stage with a huge brass band.

“Not any metal bands, that’s for sure,” Miroku smirked as he tossed back the last of his whiskey-on-the-rocks. “Sorry, Kagome. How will you ever survive?”

Kagome tossed her napkin at his face from across the table. “Sango, can I kill him and make you a widow?”

Sango was perusing the food menu and didn’t miss a beat. “I just took out extra life insurance on him,” she said, “Give me one more month so it doesn’t look suspicious.”

“Ha!” Miroku scoffed, leaning in to kiss Sango’s cheek, “You’d never do that. You’d miss me too much. Plus you’d have to raise the twins by yourself.”

“A good life insurance payout would finance an awesome nanny.”

Inuyasha snaked an arm around Kagome’s waist and leaned back against the booth. She leaned into him, laying her head gently against his shoulder.

She was so beautiful. And he loved her so goddamn much. And the night was just beginning.

Could anything ever ruin an evening like this? He voiced the thought in his head.

And then there was a small commotion, raising the general volume of the already noisy room. The four of them craned their heads to follow the noise.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sango spat, her brown eyes narrowed with unfiltered rage.

What was that thing Sango said earlier about not jinxing it? Way to go, you absolute moron.

It was the first time they’d seen Kikyou in the flesh in nearly eight years, not counting passing glimpses on red carpets and the constant onslaught of her image all over the television all the time. Miroku and Sango, ever loyal to their most famous and money-making client, had always firmly emphasized to every single event organizer and bigshot that under no circumstances should Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi ever be seated near or forced to interact with Kikyou Higurashi. And it had always worked.

But, of course, fate had a way of fucking with the best-laid plans, right?

“Of all the nightclubs in LA,” Sango hissed, “She picked this one? I call bullshit. This is no coincidence.” She turned to Kagome and Inuyasha, clearly in full protective mode. “Did you tell anyone where we were going tonight?”

“Of course not!” Kagome said.

“We’re not stupid,” Inuyasha muttered, pulling Kagome a little closer.

Miroku, long finished with his own drink, reached over and took a generous sip of Sango’s, a troubled frown on his face.

Kikyou, looking angelic as she always had, waited for her date to pull out her chair before taking a seat, the skirt of her ruby red evening gown billowing around her. She was smiling at all the attention, all the whispers. The Queen, holding court. Some things never fucking change, do they?

“Does she see us?” Kagome said softly. Her black-polished fingers were awkwardly fiddling with her necklace, and she was staring down at the white-clothed table.

“I don’t know,” Inuyasha replied truthfully, then leaned closer to whisper, “Do you wanna go?”

The fidgeting stopped, and her nervous stare hardened into a steely glower. “No,” she said softly, “I don’t know what her goal is, what she’s planning, but she is not ruining my Valentine’s Day.” She sat up a little straighter and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Fuck it.”

Before anyone else could say something, the music flared up, and the entire club broke into applause.

Miroku raised his hand to signal for another round of drinks.

And here I was, about to ask Kagome to dance, Inuyasha thought glumly.

The music was sultry and jazzy. Definitely not Kagome’s usual vibe (not enough leather and studs and screaming high notes), but nice enough for a change. It all felt very fancy, which she realized was an ironic thought for half of one of the wealthiest couples in Hollywood to have. But then again, we’ve always been low-key, I guess. She snuck a glance down at her husband’s brand new Rolex watch. ...Well, relatively so.

She pointedly refused to look over at Kikyou, so she had no idea if Kikyou was looking back.

But then of course, her estranged older sister made it clear that she wanted to dance, and so there was no keeping her out of Kagome’s peripheral.

How did she find out where we were going? Sango’s right; this is no coincidence. Kikyou just announced a new movie this morning, and if there’s one thing she knows, it’s how to get press attention.

Inuyasha seemed to be thinking the same thing as she was, because he watched Kikyou laughingly get spun around by the poor idiot she’d convinced to date her with a very suspicious glare.

“I can’t stand this bullshit,” Sango spat, now well into her third strong drink of the evening.

“You and me both, babe.” Miroku had his mouth full of some overpriced appetizer and was chewing thoughtfully.

Sango set her glass down and placed both palms on the tabletop, as if she could take no more. “Houshi, c’mon,” she muttered, “We’re dancing.”

Miroku swallowed, looking like she’d just told him she was, in fact, an alien from Mars. “Sango, babe, you don’t dance. You’ve insisted that to me about twenty-three thousand, one hundred fifty times since we got married.”

“I dance now,” she hissed, glaring over at the back of Kikyou’s head, “Right now. How else am I gonna trip this bitch and make her wipe out on the dance floor?”

“I love you so much,” Miroku said, throwing down his napkin and following her out of the booth.

Kagome gave a muted smile at Inuyasha, who in return leaned over and kissed her. “You’re still having fun, right?” he murmured, so close she could feel his breath ghosting over her lips, “I know it’s not our normal sort of date night, but I figured once in a blue moon we could be hoity-toity celebrity people, you know?”

“It is fun,” she insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face lovingly. “I promise I’m having a great time.”

He didn’t look certain, and she knew he was worried. It was adorable. He was such a teddy bear underneath it all.

“I was gonna ask you to dance, of course,” he said, flicking his head back toward the dance floor behind them, “but I’m sure you don’t want to open that whole can of worms, right?”

“That can of worms was never fully closed in the first place,” Kagome said, once again letting herself settle against his shoulder, “I don’t know if it ever will be. Things are rarely ever that simple in the real world. Life isn’t a blockbuster movie.”

Inuyasha seemed to have no real reply to that, because he just kissed the top of her head and raised his glass to take another sip.

And for some reason, when Kagome saw the glum expression on his face that he was trying so desperately to hide for her sake, she felt her resolve turn to steel once again.

She nudged him, and he nearly choked on an ice cube.

“Oops, sorry!” She couldn’t help the laugh as she reached up with a napkin to wipe the whiskey off his chin.

“What gives?” he grumbled, “Trying to kill me, I see.”

“No, I don’t have any extra life insurance on you. Well, actually, the one policy we do have is more than enough. I could live for the rest of my days quite comfortably. Hey, let’s go dance!”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, let’s fucking do it.”

Inuyasha quirked an eyebrow at her. He wasn’t buying what she was selling, clearly. “You know she’s going to see us and try to make a thing of it,” he said slowly, “Why give her the opportunity?”

“I have a plan. One that doesn’t involve tripping her, as tempting as Sango’s idea was.”

“Babe, I know you’re on a mission from Satan right now,” Miroku said softly into her ear, “but could you at least stop with that terrifying expression on your face? And also maybe look at me instead, so we can enjoy our romantic dance and you won’t keep stomping all over my feet with those spike heels.”

Sango blinked away from where she was glaring daggers at Kikyou over Miroku’s shoulder and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m just marking the territory here.”

“That makes it sound like you’re a dog going to the - “

“Houshi?”

“Yes, Mrs. Houshi?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, but you’re getting twirled in three, two, one…”

“Wait, what?” Sango stumbled as he sent her spinning under his arm. “Houshi, cut it out, I’m trying to be intimidating here!” She caught herself roughly using his arms to brace herself and resumed her death glare over his shoulder. “Oh, good, she saw me. I want her to know we know she knows we’re here.”

“Run that last sentence by me again?” Miroku sighed, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his wife’s temple.

“I said I want her to know we know she knows - oh, never mind.” Sango’s mind was clearly elsewhere, but she still leaned forward for another kiss even as she kept her eyes on Kikyou across the dance floor. It’s my animal magnetism, Miroku thought with a smirk. She can’t resist me even now. I am a god among men.

Before Miroku had the chance to whisper something filthy into her ear, her grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened painfully. “Hoooooly shit,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his, “Kagome and Inuyasha are coming to dance.”

“This should be good.”

“How is this possibly good?”

“Maybe Kagome will punch her like she punched you that one time.”

From his vantage point he could see her ears turn a little pink. “You promised you’d never mention that again, asshole.”

“You know I love you, right?” he laughed.

“I know, dammit. You still suck, though.”

Kagome and Inuyasha had taken a place next to them, in full view of Kikyou. Sango glanced across the floor again, and she could swear she saw Kikyou’s eyes light up even as she pretended to be entirely focused on the poor bastard she’d conned into thinking she was a nice person.

“You guys know she sees you, right?” Sango whispered at them.

“Who cares,” said Kagome dreamily, gazing up at her much-taller husband as he pulled her closer.

“Let her see,” Inuyasha said, clearly on the same page.

Sure enough, Kikyou was starting to be more obvious as she kept her eyes on the couple, even craning her neck around to avoid breaking the gaze a few times.

“What’s she doing?” Miroku asked, still facing away from the entire scene.

“She’s sweating,” Sango said, “She can’t stand it.”

“Ten-four. Okay, twirling again, three, two - “

“Houshi, not again - “

“One!”

“Dammit, you are the worst when I’m trying to concentrate!”

The song ended, and all the dancers on the floor paused to applaud the band, who took a brief bow and waved their thanks before breaking into a faster, swing-style number.

It seemed Kikyou was relishing the growing whispers and points from the rest of the clubgoers, and the opportunity was too hard to pass up, so she steered her poor date closer. Close enough to where they were dancing right beside Kagome and Inuyasha.

The targets in question, however, were pointedly ignoring her. They were spinning around quickly, Kagome’s movements a little clumsy and inexperienced, Inuyasha being the stalwart teacher and helping her through it. They were laughing and happy and clearly lost in each other’s eyes. It was a true Hallmark moment. The stuff of greeting cards and terribly-plotted Christmas movies.

“They are so fucking cute, by the way,” she whispered into Miroku’s ear.

“You say that all the time.”

“It’s true, though. Oh, god, here she goes.” Sango couldn’t help it, she stopped still and quit her imitation of dancing altogether.

There was a thumping sound as Miroku stumbled. “Really, Sango?”

“Shhhh!” She held tightly onto him.

“Kagome?”

Kagome fought back the snort of laughter. Here we go. She sent Inuyasha a wink, and he smirked.

They both kept dancing, and Inuyasha twirled her around to face Kikyou for just a moment before spinning her back inward toward him.

Kikyou stood there, exuding an aura of meek kindness and humility, clasping her hands in front of her with an overjoyed smile on her face.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, blinking innocently, “I’ve missed you.”

Kagome didn’t answer, just kept looking up into her husband’s face with a fond smile.

“I get asked about you two all the time.” Kikyou kept plugging away. “I always tell people that I’m so happy for you both. And for your two kids. I’d love to meet them someday.”

There was an angry flash in Inuyasha’s eyes at the mention of Axel and Mimi, and Kagome quelled it by leaning up to kiss him. Then she craned her neck to glance at Kikyou.

“Nope!” she said brightly.

Kikyou’s smiling facade slipped only briefly before she recovered. “Are we really going to keep this going forever, Kagome? Mom wouldn’t be happy that you’re being so unforgiving. No matter what, we’re still family.”

Kagome grinned even wider. “Nope!”

Inuyasha pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as he pulled her closer again.

Kikyou’s smile faded for real this time. “I just want a relationship with you two, whatever it might be. And with your beautiful children.”

Of course you do. You want to play the doting aunt, the martyr of a failed relationship who was magnanimous enough to bury the hatchet. In full view of the paparazzi cameras, of course.

“Nope!”

“So it’s like that.” Kikyou apparently was going to try for the pity route now. She closed her eyes sadly, heaving a gentle sigh. “Well, I can at least give you my number, and you can call me if you ever change your mind.”

Inuyasha pulled Kagome over the crook of his arm and dipped her low, leaning over her body to come face-to-face with Kikyou. The first time they’d been face-to-face since...well, Kagome couldn’t remember, but it was definitely before she and Inuyasha had gotten married eight years ago.

He gave Kikyou his best, most charming smile, the smile that Kagome had witnessed firsthand sending a crowd of fangirls into shrieks and fainting spells. Kikyou’s sadness faded immediately, as her public moods seemed to do all too often, and she smiled warmly back.

Can’t appeal to me so you’re gonna try my husband instead. Classy.

Inuyasha kept the smile going for another few seconds, and then opened his mouth to speak. Kikyou seemed to visibly hold her breath, sure that her charms were working.

“Nope.” And the smile widened into a perhaps-overly-satisfied grin.

The hopeful, beaming look on Kikyou’s lovely face once again was wiped away. All the friendly facade was gone, and her face pinched in anger.

“Fine. Enjoy your life with my husband, Kagome.”

Inuyasha gave an exaggerated expression of confusion as he looked down at Kagome. “Um,” he called after Kikyou’s quickly retreating back, “I’m her husband.” He touched the tip of his finger to Kagome’s nose, and she burst into laughter. He followed suit, still looking bewildered.

“No, but really,” he said through his laughter, looking down at her from his far greater height, “I did marry you, right? I’m not just dreaming, or high, or drunk, or - “

“You married me,” Kagome said with a loving smile.

“Thank god. She just called me her fucking husband and I thought maybe all of the last eight years had been some sort of weird perfect dream.”

“She wanted the movie star,” Kagome said, leaning up to kiss him, “I wanted the man.”

“Sango, babe, you gotta stand up, I can’t hold you up much longer!”

���HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - “

Oh god, Miroku thought, struggling to pull his wife to her feet as she doubled over in loud, obnoxious laughter, they broke her. She broke.

“I’m gonna be so sore in the morning,” Kagome whispered as she gently kicked off her high heels, “How you manage to walk around in these every day will always mystify me, Sango.”

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” Sango whispered back, though Kagome didn’t miss the happy sigh she gave when her bare feet were planted firmly on the tile floor.

“What time is it, Inuyasha?” Kagome leaned back into her husband’s chest, now once again a full head shorter than him.

He checked his Rolex. “Three am.”

“Everyone’s probably asleep, then. I’m sure Kanna and Kohaku are too. I guess it all went alright here?”

Inuyasha smirked as he glanced around the dimly-lit living room. “I don’t see anything on fire,” he said, “Small victories.”

“I’m beat,” Miroku mumbled, “Where are you putting us up for the night?”

“East wing, anywhere,” Kagome replied. “Find a bedroom. They’re all ready to go.”

“Why you people need this many rooms in a house with five people in it, I’ll never know.”

“So we can host freeloaders like you,” Inuyasha retorted, his hand reaching around Kagome’s shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Ah, that’s fair.” Miroku slipped an arm around Sango’s waist and bent to lift her in his arms, bridal-style. She clearly wasn’t ready for it and let out a squeak of surprise, fighting him off. “Ow, Sango, ow, ow, please stop, my back isn’t what it used to be and you’re making this harder - “

“Put me down, Houshi! What the hell are you thinking?” Sango was obviously still trying very hard to whisper.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Gotta be all romantic and shit. Gotta seduce you. Are you seduced yet?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake - “

“Just let me do this, please. If I put you down now it’ll be like I gave up.”

“...Fine.”

Kagome bit her lip, fighting back even more laughter as Sango gave an embarrassed little half-wave over Miroku’s shoulder, and they disappeared down the hallway.

“He knows how big our house is, right?” Kagome leaned back and whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“He’ll remember in a few seconds.” Inuyasha flashed that trademark smirk of his once again. “Well, now I feel like I should carry you to our bedroom. Because it’s farther. And I want to win.”

Kagome snorted. “Let’s do it.”

He bent to lift her, but she shrugged out of his grasp and ducked around behind him, jumping onto his back and linking her arms around his shoulders.

“I know I always say this,” he said with a laugh as they started down the hall toward the master bedroom, “but I’m so glad you’re a shrimp of a human being.”

They passed through the threshold and closed the door, and then he paused, facing their bed with her still linked around his back. Kagome was just about to try and lower herself into a standing position when suddenly, Inuyasha bent forward at the waist, using his hands to flip her over his head and onto the bedspread. “SUPLEX!”

Kagome shrieked with laughter as she landed in an unceremonious heap on the soft bed covers. “Now I know where Axel gets it! It wasn’t Ayame corrupting him at all, it was his dad the whole time!”

Inuyasha smirked at her devilishly as he slid onto the bed after her, crouching over her, his lips just brushing hers. “At least I didn’t throw you into a wall.”

“If you did I would destroy you.”

“Oh, I’m scared.”

“I’m serious,” she said, leaning up to give him a kiss even as she was still shaking with laughter, “I’m talking scorched earth. Not even a body to bury.”

He took her face in both hands and pulled her in to deepen the kiss, and she tangled her fingers in his long silvery hair.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kiddo,” he murmured when they parted to catch their breath.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jerkface.”

“Dad,” Axel said at breakfast the next morning, “Did the Purry-tans really kill a lot of witches?”

The crowded breakfast table all paused mid-bite, except for Kanna, naturally, and Inuyasha nearly choked into his morning coffee.

“The who, honey?” Kagome asked, gently brushing an affectionate hand over her son’s hair.

“The Purry-tans. Like in the movie.”

Inuyasha gave a pointed gaze down to the other end of the table, where Kanna was on her third bowl of Froot Loops cereal and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Miroku and Sango and Kagome all exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“What movie?” Inuyasha asked, still giving Kanna the stare-down of the century.

“‘The Crucible,’” Kanna replied matter-of-factly, “You said nothing scary, so I went with educational instead.”

“Aren’t people shown being executed in that movie?”

“Yes,” Kanna said, as next to her, Kohaku looked about ready to slide under the table in mortification, “Just as they were in the historical record.”

“So it really did happen?” Axel asked insistently. “It seems like an awful way to die.”

“It was indeed,” Kanna answered him. “A great injustice, in my opinion.”

Inuyasha planted both elbows on the table and smushed his hands over his face, mumbling something that sounded like “God dammit, Kanna.”

“What did you say, Dad?”

“N-Nothing. Finish your breakfast, kid.”

THAT’S IT! Hope you like it Lia! <3 Also tagging @dyaz-stories because she also was a very faithful and amazing follower of this story. I don’t know who else to tag because honestly I don’t actually know if any of the rest of y’all have read it lol OH ALSO @cstorm86 I SAW THAT YOU READ IT TOO

[fangirllifu]

Sweet Like Pudding Ch. 23

Italics - thoughts

It's a month before the Representative Playoffs, and Kuroo had an idea he pitched to Bokuto and Akaashi. Kenma's Birthday is coming up, and as the 'good-if-not-the-bestest-best-friend-he-is', Kuroo obviously had to organize a surprise birthday party for him. Despite the other's blatant refusal to participate in such events.

Since Kenma's birthday falls on a school day, Kuroo had to plan it accordingly. His original plan was to have a small team celebration, but opted against it as Kenma might react badly, especially with the ever-unpredictable-current-cause-of-Kenma's-headache, Haiba Lev. As such, he just decided on a private celebration at Kenma's house (permission from his parents are not needed, he's basically family), with a special guest of honor, of course. All he had to do now was plan how he was going to get said guest of honor to come. After all, they were the most important factor needed. And that's where those two come in. Bokuto and Akaashi said they had it covered so….. guess he doesn't have to think about that now then.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

It's officially D-day, and so far everything's been going according to plan. He'd managed to prevent his teammates—who remembered Kenma's birthday—to not throw him a party. It came as a surprise though, even to him, that they would gift Kenma a whole pan of Apple Pie. And for the first time, the pudding-head wasn't annoyed with the team as they greeted him with a 'Happy Birthday'. He's obviously too distracted with the Apple Pie to care about anything else.

Kenma's good mood was surprisingly constant throughout the day. Well… he wasn't exactly in a good mood, per say. He was just not in an irritable mood as he usually is this time of the year, which counts as being in a good mood in Kuroo's book.

They were currently chilling in the living room of the Kozume household, playing one of Kenma's video games, while his mom was in the kitchen preparing. After losing so horribly for the fourth consecutive time, Kuroo sinks into the couch with a heavy sigh. As he straightened back up, he chanced a glance at the clock.

"They should be arriving any minute now—" Kuroo thought and sure enough the house bell sounds off.

*Ding Dong~*

"Go on Kenma. Open the door. I bet that's Bokuto and Akaashi with your present." Kuroo smiles mischievously as he pauses the game, and eagerly shoos Kenma to the door.

As Kenma gets closer to the door, he hears an embarrassed and highly flustered voice that he recognized to be Kanna's, exclaim.

"What the hell you guys! I—"

Kenma opens the door to be greeted by the image of Kanna being securely held by Koutarou on his shoulder, and Akaashi behind them.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Koutarou cheerfully exclaims as he sets Kanna down in front of them.

"Happy Birthday Kozume." Akaashi greets with a nod.

Kenma merely spared them both a glance, as he was too distracted by the girl in front of him. There was Kanna standing in front of him, wrapped in a big red bow, wearing a black over-sized hoodie with what he could only guess, as a bunch of gaming icons decorating the sleeves. There was something in front, but he couldn't really make out what it was, with the bow in the way. (art)

"Um…" Kanna mumbles looking everywhere but Kenma.

"Happy Birthday?" She sheepishly smiles at him and opens her palms in a 'ta-dah' motion, though not really doing much as her arms were bounded to her sides.

Kenma chuckled at the endearing image, the sound causing a bright blush to bloom on Kanna's face. Kenma recollected himself, before extending his arm to gently pull her inside the house and out of the cold night air.

"My gift?" He teases good-naturedly, highly amused.

"Um… the hoodie was my mine. I wasn't aware I was going to be the one to wear it, and end up being the gift though…." She sheepishly answers, still avoiding his line of sight.

She twitched lightly, when Kenma suddenly came even closer to her and pulled the bow off. Now that it was off, he could finally get a closer look at the hoodie. In front were the words 'KODZUKEN' in pixel font, in the shade of Kenma's iconic pudding hair, and he was right about the gaming icons on the sleeves. All in all, it was a very well thought out design, Kenma couldn't help but note. And it looked absolutely adorable on Kanna's small stature.

"I like the hoodie. Thank you." He comments as he puts the ribbon aside.

"But I think you should keep it." His words caused Kanna to look up at him and meet his gaze. Only to regret it soon after, as he had that 'look' on his face that did weird things to stomach and made her chest hurt.

"It looks better on you."

She's positive she just turned to jelly. She's wondering how she's still standing, when she can barely feel her legs with the sudden onslaught of emotions.

"Wha—What is wrong with me?! I don't understand what's happening?!"

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

Akaashi and Koutarou who had long since left the two and sneaked their way inside, were spying on them—along with Kuroo—on the couch.

"Ngghh~ Why does he have to speak so softly?! I can't hear what he's saying!" Bokuto grumbles gripping down hard on the couch.

"That's the exact intended purpose Bokuto-san. So you don't hear." Akaashi states pointedly ignoring his incessant twitching.

"But—" Bokuto was going to argue, but stopped with a look from Akaashi.

"Oh, come on Akaashiii~ Don't tell me you aren't curious about what Kenma's sayin—look—look, see~ Kanna-chan's face just exploded. I want to know why~" Kuroo whines along with Bokuto.

"The both of you are hopeless." Akaashi resignedly sighs as he stands up from his seat and proceeds to walk towards the kitchen, calling out to the older male. "Come on Bokuto-san, we haven't even greeted Mrs. Kozume yet."

Bokuto springs up and follows quickly after Akaashi, they come into the kitchen to see Kenma's Mom placing a plate filled with food on the table.

"Hello Aunty!" Bokuto cheerfully salutes.

"Hello Mrs. Kozume." Akaashi greets with a respectful bow.

"Hello to you too Koutarou-kun, Keiji-kun!" Kenma's mom addresses, happily welcoming the two boys.

"Mrs. Kozume, this is for you." Akaashi steps forward and hands her a small rectangular box.

"Hm?" She hums questioningly as she accepts.

"I'm sure you'd be quite pleased with it." Akaashi lightly smiles, encouraging.

She opens the box and sees what appears to be a scrapbook. She flips the cover and giggles. "Oh, dear! Thank you so much! I'll be sure to treasure them."

The two bowed and walked back towards Kuroo on the coach just as Kanna and Kenma turned and made their way to the kitchen, probably to say their hellos as well.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

"But as I said, I really like the hoodie. Did you design it?" Kenma asks, he really did like the hoodie.

"Yeah… I even had to ask Kuroo if you had a favorite food so I could include it in the design." Kanna bashfully nods.

"Oh? Where is it?" Kenma asks intrigued, as he didn't see it anywhere.

Kanna turns around to show him the back, where a big slice of Apple Pie was plastered right there in the middle—pixilated—still keeping to the game theme of the hoodie. And here Kenma thought it couldn't get any better. It just did.

Kenma shakes his head in fondness and gently ushers her along. "Come, I'll introduce you to my mom."

They walk, passing by the trio on the couch, two of which had just started playing games on the TV with the other just watching over the impending chaos. They pointedly ignored the shouting and shoving, and continued on their way.

"Mom." Kenma calls, as they come into the kitchen.

"Hm?" Kenma's mom turns, and smiles widely at the sight before her. "Hello dear! I believe this is the first time we've met."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Kozume. My name's Bokuto Kanna, Kou's cousin." Kanna bows, returning the smile.

"So this is her…"

Kenma's Mom beams even brighter as she exclaims. "Oh! Tetsurou-kun's told me all about you! You're even cuter in person!"

Her words caused Kanna to jerk in surprise and shuffle closer to Kenma, keeping her head down to try and hide her tinted face.

"Mom. You're overwhelming her." Kenma admonishes, with a scolding stare.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. I didn't mean to." Kenma's Mom apologized, smiling softly in seeing how her son was quick to defend the girl.

"It's alright, Mrs. Kozume." Kanna reassures as she lifts her head up to meet her gaze.

With a delighted smile back on her face, Kenma's Mom states. "Dear none of that, call me Mom instead!"

Before anything else can happen, Kenma quickly took hold of Kanna and steered her back out of the kitchen.

"Okay, that's enough. We'll be by the couch if you need us." He says with hurried steps.

Kenma's Mom giggles, at the sight of her son's frantic actions. She could get used to this new side of Kenma that Kanna has managed to bring out.

"Welcome to the family Kanna-chan~!" She hollers mischievously, after them.

"Mom!" He calls out, then proceeds to grumble about 'embarrassing moms' as he walks alongside Kanna.

"Your mom's very… um…" Kanna mumbles, not sure what to make out off of the interaction she had just had.

"Don't mind her too much." Kenma responds as he continues on his way towards the others on the couch.

Only for them to arrive to the scene of Koutarou wailing on the floor, Kuroo standing triumphantly smug above him, and Akaashi on the side looking like a resigned mom so done with her two children.

Koutarou notices the two and proceeds to crawl towards them, he then extends his hand holding the controller as he dramatically pleads "Avenge meee~~, Kanna-chaaaaannn~~~"

Kanna doesn't know whether to be exasperated by the theatrics, or laugh at the utter stupidity and level of brain cells absent in the room.

"Okay… I guess." She appeases, to stop and rid them of his incessant 'I'm dying' groaning.

"Oh~ So the little one has come to avenge its fallen, now has she." Kuroo challenges with his irritatingly signature smirk.

Kanna doesn't rise to challenge and merely shrugs at him as she makes her way towards the open space on the coach, and sits. The rest of the guys follow soon after, and Kuroo starts the game.

Everyone was zeroed in on the intense match between the two. For once, Koutarou was silent.

They were finally nearing the end of the game. Both of them had been fighting a close match throughout it, so whoever manages to take this, wins the whole thing. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Kanna executes a high level move that surprises Kuroo and almost made him lose, but he perseveres. Kuroo swivels his head to look at Kanna in shock, only to realize what just happened.

"Kenma! Tha—Stop telling her the cheats! That's cheating!" Kuroo complains, startling Akaashi and Koutarou—who laughs loudly at Kuroo's misery at being played.

"You're supposed to be my best friend! Kenma!" Kuroo continues to grumble, whilst trying to evade and counter Kanna.

Meanwhile, Kenma continues to lead and instruct Kanna on where to go, where to aim and what buttons to push. Kanna gladly listens and eagerly does as she's told.

"Stop ignoring me, dammit!" And…. he loses. Not surprisingly so.

"That was a low blow, man." Kuroo sighs dejectedly as he deflates on the couch.

"You were taking too long." Kenma nonchalantly stands up and takes the controller from him, and returns to his seat beside Kanna.

Kenma—the gaming master/expert that he was—then proceeded to obliterate them multiple times in the half hour they were waiting for Kenma's Mom to call them to eat. They were so wrecked that by the time they were called, they were quite literally relieved and thankful to be out of Kenma's mercy.

They chatted some as they ate. Though they didn't say it out loud, Kuroo and Akaashi were well aware that Kenma had gone a tad easier on Kanna, than the rest of them. And the both of them were constantly observing how the two were interacting with each other. It's only been a few months, but the two don't seem to realize the amount of chemistry that oozes from them whenever they're together. They're pretty sure that Kenma's Mom—and Kanna's for that matter—are more knowledgeable in what's up, than the two of them.

Its equal parts amusing and annoyingly cute. It's amusing because their little interactions are just so wholesome, and annoying because they want them to be together already. Heck, every single one of them already consider them official, they only need the two to finally confirm it. And they know, when that day comes, a huge party/celebration is going to be thrown— or at least attempted.

After dinner, they thanked Kenma's Mom for the lovely meal, and then got shooed back into the living room. Where our favorite trio sat on the couch behind the two on the carpet, and watched as Kenma tried to teach Kanna how to play the game he just loaded. Kuroo comments 'it's his favorite game to play' and 'how unbelievably patient he's being'. Which is unprecedented in Kuroo's book of 'Kenma's personalities when he plays'.

Eventually, they had to leave as it was getting late. Kanna and Kenma wrapped up their game, and everyone said their thank you's once again to Kenma's Mom for having them. Kuroo was outside chatting away with Koutarou and Akaashi, as they waited for Kanna. She said she had to go to the bathroom before they go. She wasn't sure how busy the trains would be, so she'd rather be prepared than regretting the entire time.

Kanna walked towards Kenma at the door, and as she moves to open it, he stops her with a touch of his hand on her arm. She turns to him in question at the gesture.

"I'll see you this weekend?" Kenma asks in a soft, unsure voice.

Kanna blinks for a second before responding. "Oh! Yeah! Of course! Yes! Yep!"

Kenma nods and releases her arm. But Kanna doesn't make a move to open the door, instead she turns fully to him and asks.

"But are you sure I should keep this? I did order this just for you." Gesturing to the hoodie by lifting her arms.

"Yes, I'm sure." He assures with a soft smile, then looks away to hide his blush from seeing a pouting Kanna.

"Okay….." Kanna concedes, though still doubtful. They conclude the conversation there, as they both walk out the door, joining the others.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

It's finally the awaited weekend, and Kanna didn't know why she was feeling so weirdly the entire time leading up to it.

(But let's be honest, we all know why, right? Of course, we do.)

Kanna was walking by herself, on her way to Kenma's house. He'd offered to meet her at the station so she doesn't have to walk alone, but she kindly declined. She didn't want to trouble him by having him walk back and forth just for her. As she was walking up to the door of the house, for some reason, her palms were getting sweaty, and she had this inexplicable urge to turn and just hightail it as far as she possibly could. But she stood her ground and continued forward, even managing to ring the doorbell without any further interruptions.

"What's wrong with me, really? Am I sick or something?"

Kanna was deep in her thoughts, when the door opened, and she was greeted gleefully by Kenma's Mom.

"Hello, dear! Come in, come in!" She ushers Kanna inside and as they walk further inside, she calls out. "Kenma! Kanna-chan's here!"

Sound of footsteps could be heard thundering down the stairs, and Kenma appears from the corner leading up to it.

"I'll leave you two to it then. I'll be down here if you need me. Have fun!" She waves them off as she makes her way to the couch and continues watching her show.

Kenma walks towards Kanna and guides her up to his room. As she walks in, she looks around and sees; a modest sized bed, across from that is a flat screen TV equipped with multiple game consoles, next to that is a shelf of what she guessed were the CDs for the games. On the other side was a bookshelf with a couple of mangas, next to that was a desk with a few cat trinkets and school books. She realized how dark the room was when he closed the door and the room was only illuminated by the TV, guessing it was because of the black-out curtains.

Kenma sat at the edge of his bed and patted beside him, gesturing for Kanna to sit. She complied and appreciated how soft the bed was as Kenma handed her the other controller.

"So what are we gonna play?" Kanna asked looking at him eagerly.

"We can play some PvP games or some one-player ones. I could also teach you how to play my favorites if you like." Kenma suggested, standing up and making his way to the collection of games at the side.

"That's great and all, but are you sure? I know I've mentioned this multiple times, but despite doing well in academics, I really can't understand how most of these work." She voices looking unsure, as she fidgeted with the controls.

"You'll be fine. Why don't we start with the basics, I'll pick a few and then you can decide which ones you like." Kenma assured, doing just that and holding up a few he'd selected in his hands.

"Okay!" She nods.

And so they proceeded to play a few simple games that didn't require Kenma to explain much, and it came as no surprise that her favorite ones were a couple of idle games. Afterwards Kenma showed her his collection of favorite games—the ones he keeps coming back to. He played a few rounds with Kanna watching amazed at how he played, before he handed the controller to her and guided her through it.

Kenma was lying behind Kanna as he watched her attempt to copy what he previously did in his demonstration and ceremoniously fail, causing him to chuckle at her frustrated groans. He continued watching her as she tried again multiple times, simply reveling in the range of emotions her face expressed. When she suddenly whopped and giddily turned to him with shining eyes and a bright smile, and Kenma was hit with a sudden realization.

He stared at her wide-eyed as she turned back to continue playing, unaware of what Kenma was currently going through. After some time, he sat up from his position and wordlessly inched closer to Kanna, and gently—albeit a little unsure— wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in.

The reaction was immediate. Kanna froze, completely forgetting about the game as she asked in a soft and slightly worried voice. "Kenma?"

Kenma respond by bending his head and placing his forehead on her shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment before Kenma's voice broke through.

"Would you….."

"Hn?" She encouraged when he stopped, feeling the apprehension in his voice.

"Would you say yes…." He started again, then paused and let out a breath. "…if I asked for me to be yours, and you to be mine?"

Kanna flushed terribly as his words registered. She turned her head and stared wide-eyed at Kenma's head, who was quite adamant in burying his head into her shoulder.

"Ke—Kenma I—" She spluttered not knowing how to respond.

"It's alright. You don't have to say anything." He assures, yet sounding small and hesitant. But before Kanna can say anything, he continues.

"I just—um—don't…know….." He stutters, tightening his hold on her. "…I've never actually been in this situation before so—um—But I feel comfortable around you, much more than I do with Kuroo, and I don't feel like I have to constantly worry and I can just be… And it's alright if you don't agree, I just—….want to be allowed to stay by your side….Please…."

He finishes, screwing his eyes shut and further curls in on Kanna in apprehension as silence envelops the two, letting his words hang in the air.

Kanna turns her body around, in his embrace, to face him. "Oh, Kenma…."

With his head still down, Kanna cups his face as she contemplates. "I'm such an idiot. Of course that was the reason! This must be why Keiji keeps making fun of me. Because I'm dumb when it comes to my own feelings."

She steels her resolve, despite the uncertainty, and takes a deep breath as she says. "I'm not sure how this works too, but….. I'm sure we'll be able to figure it out together, right?"

He lifts his head up and stares at her wide-eyed. "Is she…..?"

She smiles at him as their eyes lock. "Does this mean you're going to let me cuddle you then?"

Kenma's face explodes at the unexpected question. He surges to bury his head once again in her shoulder from the embarrassment, as well as preventing her from seeing his reddened face.

"Kenma?" She asks in confusion, trying to move away but is locked in place by a surprisingly strong grip.

"Huh? Did I say something wrong?"

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

Kenma loves his hoodies. I mean who wouldn't right. They're so soft, warm and just downright the epitome of comfort. But for some reason, recently when he's browsing through shops for new ones, he keeps on wondering if they would look cute on Kanna. All because of that damned birthday party.

"I'm losing my mind." Kenma shakes his head as he wills his blush to be gone from his face.

Notes:

Here is the b-day special for Kenma I have promised. Also as an early Valentine's present to you all, I have drawn an illustration of Kanna. If you missed it, here (art). I'm new to everything, but I hope you receive it well, I had a lot of fun making it.

There were multiple instances, while writing and editing this, that I either cringed so hard or felt my heart clench too much from the amount of fluff. I'm not sure if it was alright or too much, so I shall await your generous comments regarding the matter. I also have little to no knowledge of console games so please don't come at me.

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