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greenwitchfromthewoods · 24 days ago

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personal confessions. [2/3] l Joel Miller

Summary: you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings: (+18) smut, some understatements, a few curses, oral sex (m receiving), some kissing, a little bit of angst and fluff, , Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: it took me some time. i'm not completely satisfied, because the last few days have been quite difficult for me mentally. but i created something like this.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[part 1]

"Good morning, ma'am!"

You looked up from your computer and into Tommy's smiling face.

"I see you had a good weekend." You replied, following with your eyes as the man went to the kitchenette to make himself some coffee.

"Yep, definitely!" he replied, sticking his head out and grinning at you. "And you?"

"Rather boring."

Tommy leaned against the door frame and looked at you with a wary gaze. He was completely different from his older brother. You had worked together for a long time, you were used to his style of being and his jokes really amused you, although Joel usually rolled his eyes at him then. But the atmosphere between you was really good, so working for Millers was a pleasure for you.

"Sorry, honey, but you looked like a million bucks last Friday. How on earth did you not manage to pick up anyone?" he asked, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips "If you'd let me..."

The door suddenly slammed and Joel entered, carrying a stack of invoices that he immediately placed on your desk.

"You've already had your coffee." he muttered, glancing at his brother.

"But I haven't had such nice company." Tommy nodded in your direction "Joel, can you imagine, she didn't pick up anyone on Friday? You saw how good she looked. How is that possible?"

"Tommy, please." You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

"It's none of our business." Joel replied, but he only gave you a quick glance "Besides, she has someone, right?"

Your eyes met for a moment. You hadn't had any contact with him since Friday.

What were you supposed to tell him? You'd been thinking about what had happened between you all weekend, and your pussy was clenching at the mere memory of his fingers inside you. Damn, it hasn't been easy.

"But..."

"Tommy, we really don't have time for this now. We have to go to a client." Joel interrupted him nervously and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "He's already called me twice."

"A package arrived for you. The courier brought it first thing in the morning." You mumbled, pointing to the box standing by the window.

"Great! I'll take it, and you, Tommy, finish your fucking coffee and get down to the car. I'm not waiting for you."

You both jumped when the door slammed again. Tommy took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I don't know what got into him." he said, smiling apologetically. "He's a little nervous."

You waved your hand dismissively and reached for the invoices in front of you. "Don't worry. It's Monday."

You both looked up as a loud honking sound reached your ears.

"He'll kill me someday. Bye!"

The day went by slowly. You buried yourself in invoices, had to answer a few calls and contact a few clients. It wasn't until around lunchtime, when you had to call Joel about a delivery that was supposed to show up at his place of work, that you realized something was wrong.

The familiar sound of the phone ringing echoed through the office. You started picking up more papers and soon you spotted Joel's phone, which he had left on your desk.

"Shit." you hissed.

Joel always had his phone with him. In case it was a client, a supplier or someone from Sarah's school calling. However, the display showed zero new calls, so at least that problem was solved.

Using your phone, you called Tommy, who answered after a few rings.

"Sorry, darling." he sighed. "I had to go to the store in another city. I'll be gone for a few more hours. Maybe you could take it to him yourself, huh? When that grump realizes he doesn't have his phone, he'll be even more unbearable."

"Yeah, I think I'll do that." You mumbled, rubbing your temple with your hand. You weren't sure if you were ready to meet Joel. "Thanks, Tommy."

You threw Joel's phone into your purse and left the office, feeling your stomach tighten.

You saw a familiar car in the driveway of the house and parked nearby. No other cars. It was time for lunch, so the guys who were helping the Millers went out for a meal. Joel clearly preferred to stay put.

"Joel?" your voice echoed through the empty hallway. "It's me. Where are you?"

You heard the echo of footsteps and after a moment you saw a familiar figure at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asked, clearly concerned.

You shook your head and headed up the stairs towards him. "No, you just left your phone in the office. I called Tommy, but he suggested I bring it myself." You pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

"Thanks, you didn't have to."

"I know you, Joel. You'd tear this house apart thinking you'd lost it. If Sarah had called or someone important..."

"Thanks."

He noticed how curiously you were looking around the interior. You were rarely at their place of work, mostly taking care of office matters. Something that scared him and Tommy, and you did it perfectly.

"Would you like to look around?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"May I?"

"The guys are at lunch. I just wanted to finish something." he scratched the back of his neck. "C'mon, no one minds."

He led you inside, showing you the bathroom and a couple of bedrooms they were renovating. The smell of wood and paint filled every place, and your footsteps echoed.

Finally, you stopped in the last room, what must have been the master bedroom.

"So..." you began a little hesitantly. "Would you like to talk?"

Joel was visibly avoiding your gaze. "I guess we have nothing to talk about, huh?"

"Oh. I thought..." a cold shiver ran down your spine even though the room was quite stuffy.

Joel folded his arms across his chest, his faded T-shirt tightening more on his broad shoulders. He took a defensive position, it was the safest.

"We had a few drinks last Friday." he began, and with each word that left his mouth, you felt worse and worse. "We got carried away a bit, but I think we should go back to how it was."

"You mean..."

"I'm your boss, you work for me."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Ooh!" you snorted. "Somehow this whole boss-employee thing didn't stop you from burying your fingers in my pussy up to the knuckles."

The tips of his ears burned, Joel swallowed hard. This wasn't what he expected. The memory of that evening had haunted him ever since, and this conversation was a nightmare come true.

He was already blaming himself for having too high hopes for you, for what had happened. Meeting you after all that was already awkward enough. And you wanted to talk. So he bounced the ball to your side of the court.

"I thought Jack really missed you." Joel grumbled. "That bouquet was fucking impressive. So, are you back together?"

"No."

Finally, his warm brown eyes looked at you. Something strange flashed in them, his face twitched.

"No?" he repeated after you.

You shook your head. "I didn't lie to you, Joel. It was over and no, not even a fucking impressive, bouquet of flowers would change that."

"I'm sorry." Joel lowered his head, clearly embarrassed. "I thought that..."

“Yeah, I get it.” You shrugged. “See, I did it for myself. That doesn’t mean I wanted to take advantage of you or anything…”

"I didn't think about it that way." he felt more and more embarrassed. "It was our mutual decision, right? We both wanted it. I... I really like you. I think you're an amazing woman..."

You smiled, and a heavy stone fell from his heart. One of your smiles could make his day better, and now he really needed it. The atmosphere clearly lightened.

"I like you too, Joel. And everything I told you back then was true." You approached him slowly, not taking your eyes off him. "I wanted to try, you know. Give it a chance and see where it will take us. Is that stupid?"

He shook his head. "I acted like a dick, didn't I?"

"No, you didn’t. All we had to do was talk."

You were standing so close that he could clearly smell your perfume. A sense of relief filled his heart, as if he was a few pounds lighter. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Would you let me invite you to dinner or something?"

"I'm not sure." you frowned, and his heart beat anxiously "You see, Joel... We still have some unfinished business. And I'd like to give you something back. Something I didn't give you last time."

What business? What were you supposed to give him? His mind was blank.

The face of the girl standing in front of him was unreadable. It was only when your fingers grabbed the buckle of his belt and pulled lightly that he understood. His cock twitched in his jeans, clearly aroused.

"I... You don't have to, sweetie." he mumbled, confused.

"You don't want to?" you seemed so sweet to him when you pout your lips, pretending to be sad.

"Fuck. I dream of nothing else, but..."

He didn't have time to finish, your fingers deftly unbuttoned his belt, and then slid inside, stroking his already hard manhood. Joel sucked in a loud breath through clenched teeth.

"Can I?"

He barely heard the question, but nodded quickly. Strong hands grabbed your face as he kissed you hard, when you lightly slid his jeans down. His hard cock popped out, its tip already shiny and swollen.

Joel wasn't holding you back anymore. He watched as if through a haze as you knelt down in front of him, licked your hand and stroked him gently. A quiet "Fuck!" slipped from between his lips.

You grabbed it confidently, moving your hand up and down. His cock was impressive and a pleasant excitement appeared between your thighs at the thought of how good it would be to feel it inside you. Now, however, you wanted to give him what he deserved.

You licked his tip, then took it into your mouth, sucking lightly. A slightly salty aftertaste filled your mouth. You closed your eyes, pushing it deeper, you didn't even feel when Joel's hand brushed your hair away and held you.

"Wait." he panted. "This is better than what I thought... Fuck."

He needed time. It had been a while since someone had taken care of him like this, he was afraid he would finish sooner than he wanted.

But you seemed to sense it. Your tongue gently stroked his cock as you slid it in and out of your mouth.

Joel's quiet moans filled the room. His hips began to move, slowly so as not to hurt you. When you took him so deep that you felt him at the back of your throat, and your nose touched his lower abdomen, his fingers in your hair tightened.

"Fuck. Fuck..." he panted. "Your mouth will be the death of me, baby... I won't last long."

You moaned quietly, and the vibrations went straight to his core.

You opened your eyes and saw Joel's dark as night gaze. His brows furrowed, his chest heaving violently. He cursed again quietly as your hand grabbed his balls, caressing them.

He was close, you could feel it. His hips pushed his cock into your mouth, but he was still trying not to hurt you. When you choked and tears welled up in your eyes, Joel immediately withdrew.

"I'm sorry, fuck, you feel so good... Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine. Don't worry about me."

Your lips wrapped around his cock again, and Joel tilted his head back. He didn't need much.

"Shit! I'm gonna come, baby..." he gasped with difficulty "If you don't want to... I have to pull out… Fuck!"

But you didn't pull away. You held him when after a few thrusts you felt a warm spurt in your throat. You swallowed, sliding his cock out of your mouth and licking the tip with your tongue.

Joel was breathing heavily, his dark eyes never leaving your face. He helped you stand up and before you could catch your breath he pressed his lips to yours.

A hot tongue forced itself between your lips, eliciting the filthiest moan that had ever left your throat. He didn't mind the taste of himself on your lips, it was even kind of arousing.

"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he gasped as he pulled away from you to catch his breath.

"Same thing you're doing to me." you replied, smiling.

The loud chatter coming from the yard quickly brought you back to reality. The workers had returned from lunch. Joel adjusted his pants and you grabbed your purse.

"About dinner..." he began uncertainly.

"We'll be in touch." you replied, and he smiled.

You headed towards the door and were already in the hallway when you saw Tommy in front of you. He was holding the box with the purchased products in his arms and looking at you with wide eyes.

"Ummm... I brought Joel his phone." You said quickly trying to hide your confusion.

"Sure." he replied and his eyes went to your dusty knees.

You just nodded goodbye and quickly went downstairs. Tommy was now looking at his older brother.

"Don't say a fucking word." Joel grumbled running his hand through his hair and trying to hide his embarrassment.

A sly smile appeared on Tommy's lips "That lipstick color really suits you, Joel." he laughed.

Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth and saw the remnants of your lipstick on the back of his hand.

"Not a fucking word." he mumbled taking the box from Tommy "We have work to do."

[part 3] soon

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @wandavisionx

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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chu-diaries · 3 months ago

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140 days of productivity: day 14/140

I'm definitely not cut out for this weather. I just can't wake up when my alarm rings if it's 4 degrees outside. I feel like I have to sleep in and of course I'm going to be late for everything. I'm so glad it's going to get warmer tomorrow... I hate cold days. Even so, the sky was clear and very blue today. It looks like a summer day, doesn't it?

I had a busy day at work. I talked to suppliers and bought some boxes for my candle deliveries. I also talked to customers and packed my first orders!!! There is nothing I can do here without my cat supervising me, so here is a picture of an order being carefully inspected by my cat Amora. Some orders were placed by my mother-in-law's coworkers, so in the evening I went to her house to deliver the scented candles and we talked for a few hours. It was great. She is a strong woman who I admire a lot.

🌸: day 7/29

💧: 1 L

🏋🏻‍♀️: 🚫

🏃🏻‍♀️: 4339 steps

🕯️: sold candles + packed orders + talked to suppliers and customers (6 h)

🪘: I was supposed to study after dinner but I lost track of time at my mother-in-law’s house

🇰🇷: 🚫

🎧: cream soda - exo

📺: 🚫

📚: 🚫

🛑: 21 days pick free

💊: 🚫

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seiya-starsniper · 4 months ago

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Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 4 (Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)

Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past. Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4 below, or at the above link on AO3

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“Jenny, can you help me with these boxes?” Hob calls out to the kitchen as his supplier finishes unloading their cargo from the delivery truck. It’s early, and only the two of them are at the Inn at present. Hob had told Jenny that she didn’t need to come in the mornings when she’d first started, but the former butcher had wandered in anyways on her first week, claiming she needed to do something with her jet lag or she’d go insane.

Almost two months later, Jenny’s still on the morning shift most days and Hob’s grateful for it, honestly. Having run her own place back in the states means she’s efficient, and doesn’t take any nonsense when suppliers are late or trying to argue with him. She’s also great for commiserating with, whether it’s about customer service or really annoying supernatural occurrences. Like the poltergeist in her apartment that the boys had to exorcise the week before.

When they’re done unloading everything, Hob stays back in the kitchen to put everything away, while Jenny gets ready for opening. There’s not usually a lot of people right at opening, except on Sundays, when all the hungover university students are craving brunch, so Hob’s not worried about leaving Jenny alone out there while he preps in the back.

When he finally emerges a little after 1:00pm, right when the lunch rush starts to pick up, one of his newer regulars is chatting happily with Jenny, and he can tell by her body language that she seems utterly charmed by the American.

“She seems nice,” Hob teases his newest employee later. “Pretty too.”

“Yeah I’m not—really into blondes,” Jenny replies, and something about the caginess in her voice tells Hob that there’s a story behind that. He’s not sure if it’s related to how she ended up with the Dead Boy Detective Agency or not, but he makes a note to ask Edwin about it later. He was coming by later to look at Hob’s tomes again to see if there was a spell in there that could help with their latest case.

“Ah well, plenty of fish in the sea,” Hob says easily. “Especially when you go from living in a small town in America to great old London. How are you adjusting, by the way?”

Jenny happily accepts the subject change and takes the opportunity to complain about her flat. The boys had exorcised the poltergeist, but not before it had flung nearly all of her belongings about the entire place, and put a few holes she’d have to fix before her landlord noticed. Hob had offered to help her find a new place while the whole incident was occurring, but Jenny had been stubborn and refused to move. Still is refusing to move, in fact.

Godspeed to her, Hob thinks. Hopefully another ghost won’t move in.

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“Niko attempted to play matchmaker with Jenny by arranging her to meet with her secret admirer,” Edwin tells him later that afternoon as he peruses the pages of one of Hob’s, or rather Mad Hettie’s, cursebreaker books. “Unfortunately, Maxine also revealed herself to be Jenny’s stalker, and when she saw that made Jenny uncomfortable, tried to kill her.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Hob says, nearly choking on his tea. “Yeah, I’d swear off dating for a while too.”

“Indeed,” Edwin says, flipping through the pages of a particularly heavy looking volume. “Relationships seem so much more…complicated in this day and age,” Edwin notes casually. Hob studies him for a moment, wondering if Edwin had come to talk to him about something that wasn’t quite related to his work.

“They are,” Hob agrees, taking another sip of his tea. “But there’s a lot more freedom too. You can choose who you love now, regardless of status, race, religion or…gender,” he adds, carefully studying Edwin’s face for some sort of reaction.

“Ah ha! Found it,” Edwin exclaims, either completely ignoring Hob’s comment, or too caught up in his discovery to notice what the immortal had said. He looks up at Hob and smiles. “Do you mind if I borrow this for our case? I promise to bring it back unharmed.”

“Go ahead,” Hob nods, waving casually. Edwin snaps the book shut and heads towards the door of Hob’s flat, then abruptly stops. Something tenses in the boy’s shoulders and Hob thinks he can guess what it is Edwin wants to ask him.

“Mr Gadling?” Edwin asks, turning back around to face him.

“Hob,” Hob corrects him. “What is it? Did you need something else?”

“No I—this is a more—personal question, if you wouldn’t mind,” Edwin says, his tone now shy instead of confident like it had been moments before.

“All right,” Hob says, shrugging and trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “What is it?”

Edwin’s face goes through a multitude of emotions before the boy finally seems to find the words he’s looking for.

“How long have you known your proclivities tended towards men as well as women?” Edwin asks, and the bluntness of the question causes Hob to choke on his biscuit. He coughs violently into his sleeve, which catches most of the small crumbs he manages to dislodge from his throat. When he looks up next, Edwin is staring curiously at him, arms wrapped around the book he’d decided to borrow, waiting for Hob to answer his question.

“Uhhhh…” Hob coughs again, then gulps down the rest of his tea, dislodging the last of the offending biscuit. “I guess since the 14th or 15th century?” he says uncertainly, flailing about as he tries to recall the first time he’d ever fancied a man. “I know when you were alive there was all this—” he gestures vaguely, “nonsense around homosexuality, but well—things weren’t always like that. So I guess I’ve known for. A while,” he finishes somewhat lamely.

Edwin sighs, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like he wants to follow up on his question, but doesn’t seem to know how.

“Something you want to talk about?” Hob asks after a brief silence. Edwin sighs again, then steps back towards the living room, and Hob makes a mental note to make more tea for this longer conversation.

“It was brought to my attention recently that I am in love with my best friend,” Edwin says, still as straightforward as ever. “But I assume you already knew that.”

Hob shrugs helplessly, not willing to confirm or deny his conversation with Charles. Edwin seems to understand the gesture immediately though.

“I don’t require the details of your conversations with Charles,” Edwin follows up. “However, I suppose I am seeking some—commiseration. For a broken heart.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right spot,” Hob says with a soft smile. “I know a thing or two about unrequited love with your best friend and all that.”

Edwin tilts his head curiously. “You are speaking of your patron? Death’s brother?”

Hob chokes again, this time only on air.

“Why,” Hob groans, burying his face in his hands, “Does everyone seem to know this?!”

“I am a detective,” Edwin replies, deadpan. “However, you are also extremely obvious in your affections. Perhaps more so than Charles is about Crystal, and that is a feat, I assure you,” he adds, rolling his eyes.

Before Hob can retort that he is very much not obvious, and that Edwin himself is oblivious to just how affectionate Charles is about him, there’s a loud rapping at the front door, which causes both Hob and Edwin to jolt in surprise.

“Oy, Hobsie! Open up, I need your help with something!” a female voice yells from the other side of his door. Hob sighs, knowing the source of the voice all too well, and then reluctantly gets up from his comfortable position on the couch to answer the door.

Johanna Constantine strides in without so much as a hello, making a beeline straight for his study, but then stops suddenly, making direct eye contact with Edwin.

“Hobsie, don’t be alarmed but there’s a dead child in you flat right now,” Johanna says. “And it looks like he’s stealing one of your books.”

Edwin scoffs. “Excuse you, I am borrowing this tome, with permission, I may add.”

“Right,” Hob interjects before Johanna can get another word in. “Jo, this is Edwin, Edwin, this is Johanna Constantine,” he says gesturing between the two of them. “We’re all friends here, no one’s stealing anything.”

“Oh, a Constantine!” Edwin exclaims with delight. “How ever did you get involved with her?” he asks, turning to Hob.

“Long story, kid, but I don’t have time for that right now, I need some help with a case,” Johanna says. “Unless you’ve got any expertise on weird fish men who live in swamps and eat people.”

“Actually, I do,” Edwin says, much to the shock of both Johanna and Hob. “1974,” he adds, as if this explains everything. “I’m happy to help, and I’d love to pick your brain on an old cursed fountain pen, while we’re at it, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Johanna stares at Edwin for a moment, her eyes narrowing.

“You’re those ghost investigators or something, aren’t you?” she asks. “I’d heard of you, but I hadn't realized you were actual children.”

Edwin scoffs. “We are the Dead Boy Detectives, thank you very much, Miss Constantine,” he says. “Now would you like our help or not?”

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

A week later, Hob is questioning whether he should’ve introduced Johanna and Edwin as he hangs suspended above a supposedly haunted pond.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Hob yells from his precarious position.

“Don’t worry Hobsie!” Johanna yells back as she adjusts the rope to lower Hob closer to the pond. Hob swears he hears a weird growling coming from below the water’s surface. “This shouldn't be low enough to kill you, I think,” Johanna continues. “And anyways, if it is, you’ll just come back!”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN I WANT TO DIE IN THE FIRST PLACE JO!” Hob shouts back.

“Not to worry Mr Gadling!” Edwin pipes in. “Charles and I shall ensure your library is well guarded should you unexpectedly perish and we’ll help Jenny out the Inn. Crystal is also quite experienced at sneaking bodies out of hospitals.”

“That was one time!” Crystal exclaims indignantly.

“If you die, do I still get paid on Friday?” Jenny, who has inexplicably decided to tag along for this case, asks. “Or is there like, a 3-5 business day turnaround for resurrection?”

“You better still pay her, Hobsie!” Johanna chimes in, and Hob can see her grinning devilishly at his employee. “A girl’s gotta eat after all,” she adds with a wink towards her.

Terrible. These people were all terrible and he was going to have to die and start over with a new life. And he was going to find some new friends while he was at it too.

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

Hob doesn’t die, but he does lose a chunk of shoulder to what’s later revealed to be some half shark, half man monstrosity. At least the damage from that will be gone by tomorrow. Hopefully anyways. Even if Hob did have to cover it up, it certainly wouldn't take nearly as long to heal as a whole resurrection does.

“Jenny is romantically available, by the way,” Hob hears Edwin tell Johanna in a low voice once he's been let down and wrapped in five layers of bandages.

“Is she now?” Johanna asks, in a tone Hob knows is definitely interested. “And you’re so interested in my love life because—?”

Edwin shrugs, and Hob catches the barest hint of a smile on his face.

“I think you’d like each other,” is all he says, enigmatic as ever.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker to distract yourself from your own love life?” Hob asks Edwin later when the boy comes to return Hob’s book. “Because I can tell you from first hand experience it only makes you more sad when you do that.”

Edwin hums. “It’s something Niko would’ve wanted to do,” he says. “She felt so bad after the whole thing with Maxine. But she’s no longer here, so I’ll have to do it in her memory. At least this time I can guarantee Miss Constantine is not a serial killer. The rest of her character though...I suppose she seems...pleasant?”

Hob howls with laughter. “Yeah okay, that’s fair. Need some help with your little scheme then?”

Edwin’s eyes dance with mischief and delight, and Hob’s painfully reminded of Robyn in that moment. He’s never had another child with anyone else besides Eleanor, not knowingly anyways. Being a father was far too painful when you would easily outlive your own child.

But Edwin was already dead, and would be around forever, just like Hob, so perhaps it was inevitable that Hob would love him like a son.

“Okay, so let me tell you what I know about Johanna—”

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #dreamling #payneland #seiya writes dreamling #seiya writes dbda

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cryingpariah · 23 days ago

Note

Whenever Jackie isn't in the mood to deal with Morgans's shit, she scatters a giant bag of popcorn on the floor and he drops everything to peck at it for at least thirty minutes.

You do what you have to to get a moment's peace at the World Economic Journal.

ASDFGHJKL Oh most definitely 😈

Only when he’s being particularly annoying, sending her off on numerous deliveries and schmoozing sessions without rest makes her resort to such a petty option.

“Jackie! I need to send a notice to our ink supplier in Saboady about our restock, then head over to Germa Kingdom to get approval for our next publication of Sora of the Sea, after which you need to-“

*cue jumbo red and white striped box of popcorn majestically soaring through the air, perfectly popped kernels falling as if in slow motion*

By the time Morgan finishes with his impromptu snack break Jackie is already in a deep sleep on a nearby couch with a thoughtfully written [Wake up at your own risk] sign on the end table next to her.

He scoffs dramatically but still covers her with a blanket, half out of concern for pushing his the kid too far and half because waking her up on anything less than 6 hours of sleep results in him being the next thing tossed.

#one piece #one piece oc #Jackie #big news morgans

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jcmarchi · 4 months ago

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US launches $1.6B bid to outpace Asia in packaging tech

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/us-launches-1-6b-bid-to-outpace-asia-in-packaging-tech/

US launches $1.6B bid to outpace Asia in packaging tech

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The US is betting big on the future of semiconductor technology, launching a $1.6 billion competition to revolutionise chip packaging and challenge Asia’s longstanding dominance in the field. On July 9, 2024, the US Department of Commerce unveiled its ambitious plan to turbocharge domestic advanced packaging capabilities, a critical yet often overlooked aspect of semiconductor manufacturing.

This move, part of the Biden-Harris Administration’s CHIPS for America program, comes as the US seeks to revitalise its semiconductor industry and reduce dependence on foreign suppliers. Advanced packaging, a crucial step in semiconductor production, has long been dominated by Asian countries like Taiwan and South Korea. By investing heavily in this area, the US aims to reshape the global semiconductor landscape and position itself at the forefront of next-generation chip technology, marking a significant shift in the industry’s balance of power.

US Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo emphasised the importance of this move, stating, “President Biden was clear that we need to build a vibrant domestic semiconductor ecosystem here in the US, and advanced packaging is a huge part of that. Thanks to the Biden-Harris Administration’s commitment to investing in America, the US will have multiple advanced packaging options across the country and push the envelope in new packaging technologies.”

The competition will focus on five key R&D areas: equipment and process integration, power delivery and thermal management, connector technology, chiplets ecosystem, and co-design/electronic design automation. The Department of Commerce anticipates making several awards of approximately $150 million each in federal funding per research area, leveraging additional investments from industry and academia.

This strategic investment comes at a crucial time, as emerging AI applications are pushing the boundaries of current technologies. Advanced packaging allows for improvements in system performance, reduced physical footprint, lower power consumption, and decreased costs – all critical factors in maintaining technological leadership.

The Biden-Harris Administration’s push to revitalise American semiconductor manufacturing comes as the global chip shortage has highlighted the risks of overreliance on foreign suppliers. Asia, particularly Taiwan, currently dominates the advanced packaging market. According to a 2021 report by the Semiconductor Industry Association, the US accounts for only 3% of global packaging, testing, and assembly capacity, while Taiwan holds a 54% share, followed by China at 16%.

Under Secretary of Commerce for Standards and Technology and National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) Director Laurie E. Locascio outlined an ambitious vision for the program: “Within a decade, through R&D funded by CHIPS for America, we will create a domestic packaging industry where advanced node chips manufactured in the US and abroad can be packaged within the States and where innovative designs and architectures are enabled through leading-edge packaging capabilities.”

The announcement builds on previous efforts by the CHIPS for America program. In February 2024, the program released its first funding opportunity for the National Advanced Packaging Manufacturing Program (NAPMP), focusing on advanced packaging substrates and substrate materials. That initiative garnered significant interest, with over 100 concept papers submitted from 28 states. On May 22, 2024, eight teams were selected to submit complete applications for funding of up to $100 million each over five years.

According to Laurie, the goal is to create multiple high-volume packaging facilities by the decade’s end and reduce reliance on Asian supply lines that pose a security risk that the US “just can’t accept.” In short, the government is prioritising ensuring America’s leadership in all elements of semiconductor manufacturing, “of which advanced packaging is one of the most exciting and critical areas,” White House spokeswoman Robyn Patterson said.

The latest competition is expected to attract significant interest from the US semiconductor ecosystem and shift that balance. It promises substantial federal funding and the opportunity to shape the future of American chip manufacturing. As the global demand for advanced semiconductors continues to grow, driven by AI, 5G, and other emerging technologies, the stakes for technological leadership have never been higher.

As the US embarks on this ambitious endeavour, the world will see if this $1.6 billion bet can challenge Asia’s stronghold on advanced chip packaging and restore America’s position at the forefront of semiconductor innovation.

(Photo by Braden Collum)

See also: Global semiconductor shortage: How the US plans to close the talent gap

Want to learn more about AI and big data from industry leaders? Check out AI & Big Data Expo taking place in Amsterdam, California, and London. The comprehensive event is co-located with other leading events including Intelligent Automation Conference, BlockX, Digital Transformation Week, and Cyber Security & Cloud Expo.

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Tags: ai, AI semiconductor, artificial intelligence, chips act, law, legal, Legislation, Politics, semiconductor, usa

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realmackross · 1 year ago

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PARTIES: @dirtwatchman, @realmackross TIMING: Week of September 18th SUMMARY: Mack meets her brain dealer for the first time, and the pair actually find they have more in common than they thought. WARNINGS: Alcohol mention tw, brief mention of suicidal ideation tw, and lots of talk of body parts since these are zombies lmao

It wasn’t uncommon for people to be walking around Wicked’s Rest with an igloo cooler in their hands, something that Caleb counted on when he had to make deliveries to one of his clients. Most people assumed that the man loved to fish, using the cooler for his lunch or whatever he caught in one of the many lakes or the ocean and he was just fine with keeping that illusion up even if he didn’t like to fish. His foster dad had taken him a few times when he’d been younger but Caleb had always felt bad for the poor wiggling creatures as they gasped for air on the end of a hook, something that had been a source of ridicule before. No, he stayed away from that these days. But if anybody asked, it was one of his main hobbies in life.

He pulled the cooler from the passenger seat of his beat up pick up, the vehicle looking so out of place in the Harborside neighborhood. When Taylor had texted him the address he hadn’t been expecting such an immaculate looking place especially since they’d always met in public before. It was the first time Caleb had been to her residence.

The sprawling gate that stood before him puzzled the zombie until he spotted the little intercom, Caleb’s brows furrowing before he slowly reached out to push the button. There was a beep and he stood there for a second, not sure whether he was supposed to talk into it or not. This was completely different than what he was used to. “Uh…I’m looking for Taylor?” It was posed as a question and he grimaced, knowing he sounded so stupid. “Yea, um…Taylor gave me this address for a delivery. Is she here?”

—

Mackenzie hadn’t been back home too long. It had been weird coming back. It was so quiet. Eerily quiet fitting for the zombie herself, but she had already missed Monty, the farm hands, and Sallama Gomez. She knew she could go back and visit anytime she wanted, but what was she supposed to do all the other moments of the day? It didn’t help that both Winter and Taylor were mad at her. And she knew Alex was probably spending most of her time with Cass. Mackenzie had felt lonelier now then she had before going off the rails as a possessed zombie.

But one other issue that Mack was facing was the fact that for her fresh stock of brains, she was going to have to meet with the supplier herself. Something Taylor had arranged in the past. And speak of the devil, she had heard the intercom system go off.

To say she wasn’t nervous was an understatement. What was this person like? Did they know who she was? Were they going to try anything? I mean, she was dead, so what could they possibly get from her? Hearing the confused voice on the other end made Mack a little hesitant, but if she didn’t want a repeat of the past week's events then she was going to have to face the man herself.

Pressing the button, Mackenzie unlocked the gate. She had refused to say anything over the intercom system, rather opting to see if he was alone, when he reached the front door. Thank goodness for security cameras.

—

When he heard the buzz and then the sounds of the gates swinging open, Caleb stood up straight and stared down at the little box. Would Taylor send him to his death? They’d been doing these exchanges for some time now and he’d never gotten the indication that she would sell him out but the lack of an answer from the other end had his mind spinning with the possibility. His eyes traveled to the gate that was now sitting open for him before moving back to gaze at his truck, the zombie contemplating getting inside the vehicle and getting the hell away from this place before something came at him.

He was dead already, yes, but that didn’t mean he liked being attacked any more than the next person. Dying sucked and it hurt like a bitch.

Coming to the conclusion that Taylor could have sold him out at any point during their interactions, Caleb gripped the cooler tighter and started to move through the gates towards the house. “Jesus…” The word was mumbled to himself as he took in the place, now wondering if he had been undercharging Taylor this whole time. As slow as he was going, he was able to marvel at the beauty of the estate for at least a full minute before he was absentmindedly wrapping his knuckles against the front door.

—

Mackenzie had already watched as the stranger moved up the driveway and towards the front door. A part of her had started to worry noticing he wasn’t the most clean cut man on the planet, but she also knew that not much could hurt her. Well as long as he didn’t set her on fire or try to chop her head off. She could still recall the vague marks around her neck where something had tried to saw her head off during her run as a rogue zombie, after touching the flats. And it had only further added to the mystery of what had happened those moments of not being present.

As she heard the knock at the door, she gave him another look over, before reluctantly making her way forward. The last thing she had wanted was to hurt anyone else, so she knew it was a given that she would need the brains.

With a deep breath, Mackenzie made her way forward and finally opened the door, “Hey, are you the guy with the…brains…” The word hung in her throat. She hated that she had to survive off the misfortune of others. Even as an actress, she had tried to stay humble and kind knowing how celebrities were seen by a lot in the world, but this was just different. And with every brain she consumed, she had learned to say thank you.

—

“You’re not Taylor.” To be fair, Taylor had never actually told Caleb what she was doing with the brains. The woman had touched his hand once and he’d noticed how warm it had been even with his limited senses so after some questions he knew she was getting them for a client, but she’d never told him who the client was before. Mostly because he’d never asked. If he was feeding a zombie he was keeping that zombie from hurting the living and that’s all that he needed to know. But for some reason he’d been picturing some guy in a fancy business suit who didn’t want to be seen buying the unsavory product, not a young girl who had a problem just saying the word ‘brain’ without sounding like she was going to be sick after doing so.

He clutched the cooler even tighter, not sure if he wanted to trust this interaction just yet. “She never mentioned that I was bringing this to somebody else. Is she here?” Could anyone really blame him for being cautious? Caleb was selling brains for god’s sake, anyone would want to have visual confirmation of the usual client if some random stranger came to the door for the delivery, a delivery of a product he had yet to confirm for the blonde. But his silence had to be indication enough that he was, in fact, holding the organ.

Besides, Caleb’s supply was already running low and he didn’t need to be giving out an order to someone he couldn’t trust. If something happened and he needed to replace it, that was another few brains down the drain. “I just…do you have the information I gave her, at least?”

—

“Nope. I’m Mackenzie.” She looked at him and then down at the cooler. It was hard knowing what the contents were that he was holding in his hand. Where did he get them? Did she even want to know that? There were a lot of questions swimming through her mind, especially since returning from Monty’s farm. She knew of two people she had killed, but had she killed more? Is that how he was getting them or was he just a middle man? Being a zombie had been hard enough, but she had always been at a distance when it came to brain supply until now.

“She gets them for me. She’s not here. She’s in California. She’s my assistant.” Realizing this wasn’t the best transaction to be making on the porch, she stepped back and allowed room for him to come in. Was she nervous letting some random guy in her house, yes, but she could defend herself if need be, “Let me go get my phone. It’s got all the information on it. And if you don’t mind shutting the door behind you when you come in. Figure we might as well take care of this inside rather than outside. You never know who could be watching.” She hadn’t seen any paparazzi since being in Wicked’s Rest, but who knew what this town could draw to it.

Leaving her trust in him, Mackenzie ran upstairs to grab her phone from her bedroom. Surely this guy was legit. He had seemed just as suspicious of her as she was of him. And if it was one thing the young actress had come to learn, it’s that most people who knew about the supernatural tended to be leery of anyone they talked to. But considering all the ways that things could go wrong, you kind of had to.

—

“Your assistant, right.” That wasn’t uncommon. Most people who paid for take out brains were able to afford people to take care of the unsavory parts of the business. He dealt with a lot of those in his choice of a side business and he honestly preferred the assistants on most occasions. They were usually nicer. Not that this girl seemed malicious in any way. No, she just seemed…so young. Of course, looks can be deceiving, especially when dealing with those that had to live off of brains. As his brain went back and forth between the possibilities of her own situation, Caleb barely heard the words that came from her mouth, the zombie still standing outside the door as she walked away.

But something registered in his mind, the man looking behind him as he thought of who could be watching them. Why did she have people watching her? Who was this girl? He had two choices here: stay outside and risk this transaction being witnessed or step into a stranger's house not knowing what was waiting for him inside. Ultimately, he decided to step inside and shut the door behind him. He'd deal with the consequences later.

“You probably uh...probably shouldn't store that on your phone.” Caleb called after her, not knowing where she'd disappeared to and only hoping she'd heard his words within the gigantic house. Yea, he definitely needed to start charging more. Might even be able to afford something better than his apartment soon.

”Did you say someone is watching you? Why? Are you in trouble or something?“ If so, they had something in common. Did he want to deal to a client that was also being watched by law enforcement though? They would only bring unnecessary drama to each other. She'd been loyal for months though and he didn't want to leave her empty handed...if she ate somebody because he'd denied services Caleb knew that he would never forgive himself.

—

Mackenzie slipped into her bedroom and snagged the phone off the nightstand. As she was in there, she had heard him say something, but with her hearing not being what it used to, it sounded more like a mess of jumbled words. Just one of the many perks of being a zombie. She would find out what he wanted when she went back downstairs, but first she double tapped the phone screen to see if she had any notifications from Taylor.

None.

With a sad sigh, she left the room and met the man with her food supply back downstairs, “What were you saying? I couldn’t understand you. Sorry, my hearing isn’t what it used to be.” She felt weird saying that considering how young she was. As she waited for him to respond, she began pulling the receipt up on her phone, “Here. Is this what you needed?” Mackenzie turned the phone to face him and held it up. “Is that enough proof?” She understood what he was doing was probably a dangerous line of work to be in, but it didn’t make it any less awkward to be meeting the person who supplied you with human brains.

—

”Of course...I should have known that, actually.“ Why would she have better hearing than him? They were the same after all. Dulled senses came with the territory of being dead, at least for a zombie. ”I was just saying, you probably shouldn't keep that on your phone...especially if you have people watching you?“ Something Caleb was still curious about which was why he posed that last sentence as a question. Even if he wasn't going to deny services he would still like to know how cautious he needed to be with her.

He eyed the phone, squinting as he got a little closer to the screen but not wanting to reach out and take it from her . There was delicate merchandise in his hands and he tried to make it a practice to not touch other people's things if he could help it. But it was Caleb’s information that was provided when a purchase was made, discreet descriptions and all. It should have made him feel better about this but it didn't. He never felt good providing brains directly to a new person, it lingered for a while afterwards until the paranoia could have time to subside.

”Yea, seems to be in order.“ Caleb tapped the top of the cooler, not handing it over since the supply would need to be transferred. He probably should get another one just in case but right now this was his only one. ”Where should I put these? I imagine you don't want them sitting around your living room.“

—

It was weird hearing someone say that. That they should’ve known her hearing was shit. Did that mean that he was a part of the undead too? Mackenzie didn’t want to ask. It was a very personal question, and one that she never really liked answering herself. But she couldn’t pretend like he didn’t at least know what she was, since he was delivering her brains after all, “Right. Yeah, I’ll probably delete this after you leave. Wouldn’t want it getting into the wrong hands…” Fans. Tabloids. Police. There were a slew of people she was trying to avoid at all costs, when it came to her zombism. “It kinda sucks being an actress and having to survive off of brains. Privacy is a precious thing.” She sighed softly.

Looking between him and the cooler, she could see the wear and tear on the thing. This had to have been a one man operation right? And he hadn’t set it down or let go of it since he had arrived. It may not have seemed like it, but Mackenzie paid attention to this kind of thing, “Glad it’s all in order. Really didn’t want to have to go without these.” She looked back up at him, “Follow me. I’ve got a fridge downstairs solely for this purpose.”

Mackenzie turned away from him and began walking down a smaller set of stairs, before turning right and going into a room that held her two extra refrigerators. Pulling the door back, she couldn’t help but see all the random containers of stray body parts and a few extra brain containers, “Just sit them in there. And thanks for coming by. I know a guy in your line of work probably doesn’t really like making house calls.” She moved away from the fridge, but continued to watch him.

—

”An actress?“ Somehow that seemed worse than her being watched by the police. It wasn't just a department's worth of people with eyes on her, it was most of the world, at least those who cared about celebrity gossip. The house, the assistant, it all made more sense now at least and Caleb’s suspicions about all of this were starting to fade, as much as they could, anyway. ”Wow...yea that seems like it would be rough. Being in the public eye can't be easy, it's hard enough being a nobody and having to navigate this.” He felt for her, he really did. Always having people following her around and he assumed she never had much privacy, it must have sucked, especially with how she had to survive now.

“Downstairs...right, this place is huge.” Caleb walked after the blonde, his eyes traveling over the space as they went. “For the record, I don't want you to have to go without these either. Don't need hungry zombies walking around this place. There's already enough going on.” Enough people dying. He saw the influx coming into the funeral home on the daily, it was getting out of hand. Erin had even shown concern over how many people they were seeing.

The many refrigerators had him slowing his steps, Caleb wondering how many brains this girl actually had in them. They had expiration dates, right? Did zombies get sick from bad brains? Probably something he should know. But when she opened one and he saw the other body parts it registered that she wasn't a brains only type of girl. He, himself, hadn't had other body parts since his first kill but he couldn't judge. Food was food, especially if it kept them satisfied. “I'm Caleb, by the way. I don't know if I introduced myself before. I was just expecting Taylor and got a little nervous when it wasn't her.“ Kneeling down, he started to put the stock that he'd brought next to the other containers, shaking his head at her comment. ”No, house calls are better, actually. Not being out in the public is preferred. I just want to know who I'm meeting when it comes to them, you know? Mostly so I know I'm not being set up.“

—

Rough was an understatement when you were killing people without realizing it. It’s why, when Taylor had first found out about services where people actually offered brains, Mackenzie found herself so relieved. If she had to do this to survive all the time, she’d gladly take the silver bullet to the brain or whatever the trope was for zombies. This was never anything she’d wish on anybody. Not even her worst enemy, and she was pretty sure she had gained a few of those over the years, “Yeah. Apparently that’s just my life now. It’s also why I moved here to Wicked’s Rest. It’s a bit quieter, I guess. And there’s no paparazzi lurking on every corner.”

“You’d think I would have chosen something a bit smaller huh? For wanting to be so discreet. But when I saw this place I fell in love.” She really did like her house. It was ridiculous for just one person, but she had known of other more well known actors and actresses with much larger houses who were living the single life. It was kind of ridiculous the more she thought about it, but here she was.

“No, I don’t think so, but it’s nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Mackenzie.” Honestly, he had every right to be nervous. She would have been too, if this was what she did for a living. It took a lot of guts to sell brains to the undead, especially if you were the supplier and middle man, “I can imagine this must be a nerve wracking job. I know I couldn’t do it. And if house calls make you feel more comfortable then, that’s how we can do this.” Especially considering she was pretty sure Taylor was still pissed at her and would be for a while. “Can I ask you a personal question?” She was almost hesitant, but decided to just go for it, “Are you a zombie too? Or did you just figure that you could make a killing off the brain business?” She paused realizing what she had said, “No pun intended by the way.”

—

“Quieter, yea...“ He let out a breath of sardonic amusement, knowing that most people didn't realize what a dangerous town this was. He'd been bitten by the undead, fought with vampires in the cemetery, and countless other things throughout Caleb’s life that he couldn't quite explain. If Wicked's Rest hadn't been all he knew, if there weren't people that he cared for still living in this town, he would have moved a long time ago. ”Just be careful around here. There's a lot of things that are more dangerous than zombies. At least you can't really die unless somebody knows what they're doing.“ He was starting to talk too much, but seeing a fridge full of body parts in her house didn't exactly inspire suspicion anymore. Ironically, it inspired trust more than anything.

After placing the last of the containers in the fridge, Caleb closed his cooler and stood, not really holding onto it as tightly this time around. Coolers could be replaced, brains were scarce. He closed her fridge and turned to face her, his eyes moving around this room as well. ”I mean, you have to be comfortable with your living situation. If this is what you like then it's what you like. I've just never been inside a place this big before.“ No, he was used to the suburbs and then his single bedroom home on the outskirts of the suburbs. Nothing this fancy had ever been available to him.

Surveying the girl, he smiled at her willingness to meet up here from now on. It was a nice offer to make him more comfortable but it wasn' t just about him, was it? ”I appreciate that but it's also about what you want. I'm not fond of inviting strangers into my own house, especially with what I keep there.“ Of course, she kept the same things he supposed and he was about to say as much before her question caught him off guard.

It wasn't like he enjoyed talking about what he was but he'd also never been asked outright before. Considering she was a zombie herself, not to mention the fridge that stood behind him full of different pieces of other people, he felt like he could safely say something about his own status. It wasn't easy though. It would be the first time he admitted it to someone other than himself and even if he’d wanted someone to talk to about it he was still reluctant to say it out loud. ”I...am, yes. I'm not the type of person who would do this if I didn't feel like I had to.“ Caleb bit down on the inside of his bottom lip, a little disturbed by something else she had said. ”I don't kill, by the way.“ Or he hadn't yet except for the unfortunate accident. He might have been considering it but the zombie wouldn't call himself a murderer just yet. ”Your brains are provided violence free...at least by my own hand, anyway.“ And for the time being.

—

Mackenzie listened to him. It sounded like he had definitely had more experience than she did. Of course, it felt like most people that lived in this town and knew of things that went bump in the night, knew more than her. She was just doing good enough to take things day by day. One step at a time. And it was somewhat reassuring knowing that people HAD to know what they were doing in order to end her undead life. But at the same time accidental deaths were a thing as well, and even she still didn’t fully understand how zombies took that final nap, “Thanks for the heads up. I’m still kind of new to this life, if you can’t tell.”

Mack was pretty sure he could tell. Most people who knew anything about the supernatural could probably tell she was as green as the grass outside on a summer day, but just like anything else in life…err death…practice made perfect and with time came experience. Luckily for her (Yay.) she had all the time in the world now, until that so-called accidental death or person with the right skillset came along, “Yeah, it’s fine. Besides, I think meeting in public somewhere would be worse. At least here, you know it’s guaranteed to be private.” Aside from the people in this town who already knew her secret and would sometimes come by for a visit. She’d just make it a point to schedule around Caleb’s visits. “I mean if that’s okay with you? I know World’s End Isle is a bit of a drive.”

She shifted her weight and leaned back against the wall behind her. Mackenzie was enjoying the conversation they were having. It was nice coming across someone else like her even if he was her brain supplier, “Thanks for telling me. I know it’s not something you probably really shout from the rooftops. Lord knows I don’t.” Unless I try to eat somebody and they just figure it out on their own. Sigh. “And I appreciate knowing that. I’m not gonna ask for the details, because I don’t really want to know, but as long as more people aren’t getting hurt just to keep me alive.” In the movies, being a zombie looked so easy, but in real life, it was a completely different story.

—

God, she was new, wasn’t she? It wasn’t like he was super experienced himself but he had to have a couple of years on her at least and he had lived in Wicked’s Rest his whole life. It wasn’t like him to stick around a client's place after a drop off, everything he did with this business was strictly professional, but when it came to someone who didn’t know much about this life he had a duty to try to help, right? Caleb eyed her for a moment before he spoke again, finally making a decision on the offer he had been considering giving her. “You know…I’m not an expert but if you have questions I could try to help. Not guaranteeing I know everything, of course, but I think I might know more than you at this point.” A pause, the man wondering if he should even ask the next question on the tip of his tongue. It was personal but she’d gone for it before so he decided to as well. “How long have you been dead?”

It had been a bit of a drive in but in truth, Caleb actually enjoyed it. The scenery had been so nice along the quiet roads and he hadn’t really been to this part of town in a while. Beides, Mack's privacy fence was more than enough to convince him to drive out here more often. “I don’t think you’re that far, really. I like seeing this side of town anyway. When I was younger I used to go to Harmony Hill a lot because the sound of the ocean in a quiet graveyard was calming.” Why had he said that? She didn’t need to know that. Clearing his throat, the zombie tried to play it off. “I don’t mind coming out here at all.”

A smile finally graced her with her words, Caleb shaking his head almost immediately. Why would anyone want to blurt out they were dead like it was no big deal? There were only a handful who knew what he was and it had all either come out because the other had their own secrets or…well, he’d been caught with a body. “No, I don’t exactly advertise what I am. I don’t know a lot of zombies that are proud of what they’ve become.” And the ones who were proud weren't people he associated with much. Purists, people who wanted to get their own brains the violent way. “It’s good to know you feel that way.” Even if the guilt of his impending status change to murderer was starting to eat at him. Maybe that wasn’t the best solution after all if most of his clients felt the same.

–

The more zombies Mackenzie met in Wicked’s Rest, the more she began to feel accepted. Monty and a farm full of the undead had been exactly what she had needed after her rampage. Had she dealt with this alone, she didn’t know where she’d be. And maybe Taylor handing over the reins on getting her own brains was for the best. No, she hadn’t known what she was getting herself into today, but right now, in this exact moment, she was glad, “Really? Thank you. Thank you so much.” A smile crept over her face. It was warm and appreciative of the fact that he was willing to help her. However, the question she had just asked him had somewhat caught her off guard, but it was only fair that she returned an answer, especially since he was willing to, “Two years. And most of that time was spent just trying not to eat the people around me. That’s why Taylor has been such a big help in all of this. She didn’t run or tell anybody after I told her.” Mackenzie was easily starting to realize she owed a lot of people for helping her to stay on her feet through all of this.

Mack let her eyes and her smile drop, the thought of Taylor and then Winter coming to mind. Thankfully Caleb’s confession had pulled her attention away from two of the people she had regretted hurting, “Oh really? I haven’t been to Harmony Hill yet, but I can agree with that sentiment about the ocean. This house kind of reminds me of home and my family. I miss California so fucking much. Maybe one day, I can go back…” She sighed softly.

“You’re right about that. I mean why did we get zombies, when we could have been something else you know? Like a unicorn or a BigFoot?” Her mood had perked back up. Turning and moving back up the stairs, Mack replied, “If I ever say differently, then please put me out of my misery. This is hard enough as it is. I don’t want to actually come to the point in my undead life that I enjoy eating people.” She moved towards the kitchen, “Do you want something to drink? One thing I have learned is that the stronger or spicy the taste the more enjoyable it is.” She wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be there, but she could at least be a good hostess to her new undead friend.

—

Two years, not long but enough to know the basics. At least she’d found her food source, that was always the biggest struggle for most zombies who had just turned. Caleb didn’t have that struggle, thankfully. Even when he didn’t understand his hunger, whenever he lost control it was usually around a body that was already there being prepped or when he was burying somebody after a service. That was something he’d always been thankful for. He nodded at her answer, a question forming on the tip of his tongue but it was one he wasn’t willing to ask. They barely knew each other and he knew if anyone had ever dared ask about who he’d killed over the years he would shut down. It was too personal, even for someone who had gone and was going through the same thing. “It’s nice that you have people you can talk to about it. Most of the ones that know about me are because of…well, telling them wasn’t intentional.”

But something in her expression changed. That grateful smile that had lit up her face was nowhere to be found after she’d spoken of her assistant and Caleb once again wondered why the woman wasn’t there. Was she really gone on business? He didn’t want to be accusatory though and he couldn’t quite muster up the guts to ask if that was actually the case or if something bad had happened. Or maybe it had something to do with her home. She did seem pretty torn up about not being able to return. “Is there a reason you can’t go back or…just trying to keep people safe?”

As amusing as the thought of being a big foot was, he already had the height part down, he couldn’t bring himself to muster up the smile that threatened to form. The thought only served to remind him more of what he was. “Or…you know, stayed human.” He hadn’t even expected the sadness in his tone and Caleb closed his eyes when he realized how that could bring the mood way down. Frustrated with himself, he shook the thoughts away as he followed her to the kitchen area. “I try to stay away from putting people down but I think I could send someone your way. Maybe?” Did he actually know anyone who would do that? Aria for sure wouldn’t and Erin shouldn’t even know that zombies exist…maybe K.O. if he knew what was going on. The man was chaotic enough. Now he was smiling though, Caleb eyeing the fridge and wondering if she meant what he thought she did. “Did you spike the water with hot sauce or something?”

—

When he mentioned the unintentional telling, Mack’s mind went automatically back to the sleepover. It had been a disaster, and one she was just grateful hadn’t ended in tragedy. It seemed like wherever Mackenzie went these days, trouble followed, and it felt like most of it was from her own hand, “Yeah, that’s how it was for me. Mostly unintentional. Try zombing out in a room full of people you were just starting to become friends with during a sleepover.” She felt safe admitting that to him. He was like her after all. He understood the repercussions of being hungry when living people were around. Or at least she assumed he did. How could you be a zombie and not experience that at some point?

Mackenzie walked to the fridge and opened the door. There were so many options, but most of it tasted like nothing. She had still tried to incorporate regular food into her diet, but it was hard. However, glancing over, she noticed the bottle of Fireball sitting on the counter. It was unopened and fresh. And if he wanted to share a drink, she’d crack it, but if not, she’d wait. “Yeah, I’m so afraid of hurting my family. And they don’t know about any of this. There’s only two people from back home that know about what I am now.” Taylor and Winter. The two people she felt she needed most in this world right now, and the two who probably hated her the most.

She turned her attention back to Caleb, who had mentioned staying human, and on that note, shifted her eyes back into the fridge. The last thing Mackenzie wanted to do was acknowledge that. To think about it more than she already did in her waking life. “I’ll keep that in mind, about the person you know.” The conversation was already starting to make her mood drop even lower, but she was grateful when he brought up the hot sauce and water, “What? No. Even I wouldn’t stoop to that level.” She shut the fridge and leaned over grabbing the bottle off the counter, “I meant more like Fireball or maybe a Bloody Mary.” She turned around with a smile back on her face and held up the whiskey.

—

His smile slipped at her confession, Caleb not sure whether to be horrified or concerned or both. Yea, he’d lost control before but only around…people who were now dead or who’d already been dead. It was enough to make him realize how dangerous he could truly be and he decided that he needed to double down on keeping them both well fed if he could. “That…that had to be scary when you came to. Are they all, I mean…they’re alive, right?” There was no easy way to ask that question but his concern, the anxiety building throughout him, he needed to know for his own peace of mind. He wasn’t quite sure how everyone would have made it out of that situation unharmed though.

“That’s definitely understandable. I can’t say that I blame you.” When this first happened, if he hadn’t worked for the Nichol’s family, he would have stayed far away from them. There were people that he had pushed away, people that he still hadn’t reached out to, so he could empathize. Probably more than anyone else in her life. “I didn’t really have the resources to get away but I did push aside a lot of friendships. I wish I could say it gets easier.” But it didn’t. It never would. Caleb was always going to worry about the people he cared for and even if he was branching out and dating now he didn’t believe he could allow himself to get too close.

There it was. That look only to turn away, he knew it well. It was a signature move for him, even before his death. Caleb wanted to say sorry, wanted to apologize for bringing it up, but he let the subject fall. Instead, he focused on the offered drink, the zombie setting the cooler down before he leaned his arms against the kitchen island. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a Fireball. Sounds interesting, what makes it easy to taste for us?”

—

Mackenzie paused, realizing what zombing out in a room full of people probably meant, “Sorry. Yeah, yeah. They’re all safe. My friend knew about my fridge downstairs and grabbed what I needed. Nobody got hurt, but all I can think about is if they had. I think somewhere subconsciously that’s why I live in Fort Knox, because I’m afraid of what could happen.” She wasn’t about to mention her zombie rampage through town. As much as she was already starting to like this guy, she didn’t really know him. At least not yet, anyways.

“I’m sorry you had to push away people you cared about. It’s never easy. And then they don’t understand why you’re doing it, so it makes things ten times harder. But the idea of hurting someone you care about…it’s just easier to have them hate you.” Having her parents or Winter or anyone from her past hate her had been so much easier then experiencing the loss of Brody, and it wasn’t because she loved those people any less. It had been due to the fact that they were still living their lives and thriving. Brody was not, and Mackenzie couldn’t ever fix that. “At least, as much as it sucks to say, there’s others out there like us, so we’re not completely alone, you know?”

Mackenzie smiled fondly as she got out two shot glasses from the cabinet, “Really? I mean it takes a lot to get a zombie drunk. I don’t know if you’ve figured that out yet, so don’t worry. But what makes it easy for us to taste is the copious amounts of cinnamon in it. I wouldn’t have recommended this stuff in life, but now that we’re both of the deceased nature, it doesn't really matter.” She went back to the fridge and got out a couple of different bottles of hot sauce. “And if you want to be really wild, you’ll throw some of this in there for extra taste!” She sat the bottles in front of him and began pouring the shots.

This was definitely not how she had seen her brain delivery going, but she wasn’t exactly opposed to it either. Anytime Mack found another zombie to connect with, which was few and far between, it seemed to have made the undead life a little more bearable. Someone who knew exactly what she was going through just somehow made things a little better, and she had hoped she was offering that same grace to him. But it had also just been nice to have someone to talk to, and if this is how the rest of her day was going to go, then she wasn’t opposed.

#para: caleb #para: we are who we are #dirtwatchman #suicidal ideation tw #alcohol mention tw #wickedswriting #{a new beginning; plot}

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electrasev5nwrites · 1 year ago

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Ninja Daily: AIC 10

"I don't want to be here all day, kunoichi."

Aiko resisted the impulse to snort and looked up from the rolls of bandages she'd been trying to juggle. "What other equipment do you need?" It wasn't like she was the one they were waiting on.

Zabuza looked like he wanted to push her out of the way to get at the shelf. His jaw clenched. Instead, he stepped around her and took an entire box of the rolled bandage. "Basic medical supplies." His eyes darted to her, small and resentful. "Small weaponry. Rations. Soldier pills, if we can get them."

It felt like he regretted every syllable he had to say to her. Like he thought she was taking something from him.

She didn't take it personally. His shoulders had begun to hunch as soon as they'd entered the town, but now, he was keeping his chin up aggressively and giving dark looks to anyone who came too close.

He seemed like a half-feral animal in the peaceful, normal space of a small-town pharmacy. Zabuza was like a cat that had been kicked before, and viewed consenting to being fed as an admittance of weakness.

'That might not be far from the truth. Mist has never seemed particularly nurturing.'

For the first time, she wondered about his background. What kind of childhood made someone a killer without attending an academy or any sort of comparable training system?

Well.

'A really shitty one. He's been desperate and hungry for a long time. I doubt he even knows what he's hungry for. But he wants to be a leader and fix it. That's… kind of inspiring. I doubt he's doing it out of sentimental love for his childhood home.'

"Hmm." She tossed the bandages into a basket and curled her fingers around the handle lightly. She kept her thoughts off her face. Aiko wasn't thick enough to think Zabuza would want her sympathy, even if she was the type of person who initiated those kinds of conversations. "The pills will be hard. Unless you know a supplier off hand?"

He gave her a withering look and walked away to disappear down another row of splintering shelves.

Aiko rolled her eyes.

'I didn't think so.'

Villages had that kind of thing on a tight leash. There was probably big money in moving those kinds of performance drugs, but the formulas were state secrets and the actual items were regulated and watched. It was a rare example of a time when the risks and annoyances outweighed the potential for profit in smuggling. Bit like the difficulty in getting other types of shinobi equipment outside of a village.

At least the other supplies shouldn't be impossible. Rations really weren't going to be a problem at all. With hiraishin, she was never cut off from supply lines. It was unfortunate that she might have to play delivery girl again, but hardly the end of the world.

Zabuza rounded the stacks again, expression tight and body language impatient.

'If he wants to go so damn badly, why doesn't-'

Oh.

'I have the money. He doesn't want to ask me for an allowance like a child.'

Right.

Aiko yawned, closing her eyes to stretch. "I think I need to recoup." She didn't quite look at him. "Would you get Utakata from next door? I'll go through the line so we can get out of here. We'll make camp tonight, and figure out how to retrieve Haku and deal with Gato tomorrow."

Being tired was a convenient excuse, but it wasn't really a lie. She was still low on energy from reviving Zabuza. Sleep would be best, at this point.

'And isn't that strange? Fuu's body was in much worse shape, but I was still fighting fit after that revival.'

She couldn't entirely explain what the difference was. She'd thought that the main chakra expense correlated to the amount of repair that bodies needed. But if that wasn't true…

'Maybe it's time that matters, instead of damage. Zabuza was dead for at least a week longer than Fuu. Maybe… maybe his soul was more reluctant to leave. More acclimated to death.'

Aiko shook that thought off, creeped out. No. That was ridiculously superstitious speculation. It was below her in every way to spook herself so stupidly.

"Fine." Roughly, Zabuza dropped everything he was carrying into her basket, never mind that it didn't really fit. A bottle of pills rolled off to the floor with a clatter, but he was already halfway down the aisle.

She tried not to roll her eyes again. Aiko bent to pick that up without sending anything else flying. With a little difficulty, she hauled her burden to the clerk. The man gave a watery smile when he saw her. He repeatedly glanced over her head as she worked.

'Probably looking for Zabuza. He does make that kind of impression.'

Somehow, she didn't snicker.

'We need to get weaponry next. That isn't going to be easy, either. Might have to risk making a commission with a weapons smith who can work with shinobi-grade metal. Either that or scavenge. Both options risk bringing contact with a village in some capacity. Not optimal. But of course he wants a full kit if he's going to go take on the Mizukage's forces. That seems so… troublesome. Can we not do that?'

Aiko stilled, eyes losing focus as she had an idea. She'd mostly just been whining, but she might be on to something there.

'When Kisame thought I'd killed Pein, he didn't even think to ask questions about anything other than how I would be as his new leader. Is that… mist-normal?'

"Here you are." The clerk pushed her bags across the counter and managed to look at her long enough to bow properly.

"Yeah. Thanks." Absentmindedly, she slid the supplies off the counter and tried not to hunch under the weight. She wanted to talk to Zabuza. He wasn't in the mood now, but once they were out of town, away from crowds, he might be more amenable.

She tried at the first opportunity, perched close to the campfire. "Hey, Zabuza. Is there anyone other than the Mizukage who needs to die?"

"Lots of people need to die," Zabuza grunted dismissively.

'Stupid and dramatic.'

Aiko huffed. "No, I mean, anyone in specific."

He made a rude sound. "Anyone who gets in my way when I go for the Mizukage."

"Right," Aiko agreed with patience she didn't feel. "But is anyone going fight in his name after he's already dead?"

Zabuza snorted. He finally deigned to look at her, eyes yellow in the firelight. "Doubt it. Fucker's not popular."

"Good." Aiko chirped. She relaxed, nearly melting against a large rock. "That'll make things easier. We'll just go directly to the Mizukage and not bother with anyone else. We don't need to raise an army, if it'll be yours as soon as he's dead. Right?" She made a thumbs up.

Her mist-nin companions exchanged looks.

"Yagura-san will not meet an enemy outside the village," Utakata pointed out. "It will be necessary to fight through most of the village, unless they are persuaded beforehand to stand down. That is likely Terumi-san's plan."

'Do they think I'm an idiot?'

Aiko scowled at her companions, which took some doing, since they were positioned on opposite sides of the fire. Neither of them seemed remotely impressed by her glower, but they registered it. When she was certain her displeasure had been expressed, she put her hands on her hips. "Obvious things are still obvious, thanks for the update. If we're done with that, you happen to know a person who can take you directly to the Mizukage, so that we don't have to fuck around with making friends or killing perfectly useful people. Does that change anything?"

Zabuza opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He became very interested in wrapping his arms back up with bandages that didn't have maggots in them.

"I see." Utakata looked away. "Your backup plan is to sidestep all of a nation's highest security and assassinate the most powerful man who lives there, to save time and effort." He shook his head, lips pulled into the shade of a smile. "Perhaps Zabuza-san would find such information useful."

Aiko blinked. "You're not planning on coming?" She'd thought it had been weird that he'd wandered off when they'd gone on an equipment run, but she hadn't realized his participation was in doubt. He was reliable. Dependable. Familiar.

'Stupid. I got too used to relying on him.'

As soon as she thought about it, it seemed obvious. He wasn't really her teammate. He didn't have to do whatever she wanted. He probably didn't want to go back to the village that had failed him.

His expression indicated all that and more. "Indeed." Utakata tucked his hands inside his sleeves and closed his eyes, earlier amusement gone.

Aiko took the hint: the conversation was over. She passed out easily, eyes closing on distant stars instead of wooden beams. Maybe Utakata wasn't going to stay, but she trusted that he would watch her back while they were still working together.

She woke up with the sun. Zabuza was already up- or perhaps he hadn't slept. She didn't care either way. Aiko stretched, first the lazy, satisfying muscle movements common to the morning. And then she stretched for flexibility, tuning her body like the weapon it was. If they did go after the Mizukage today, she wanted to be in good shape.

He was almost certainly Obito's creature at this point. Maybe it was foolish, but she couldn't help but feel that this would make the Mizukage even more dangerous.

'It's not impossible,' Aiko reminded herself. 'Mei did it.'

Of course, Mei was a completely different type of fighter. It could be that she'd had some advantage that Aiko and Zabuza lacked.

'If I'm completely honest, I think Mei is a lot more powerful than Zabuza. And more observant. I couldn't have taken her down as easily as I did Zabuza.'

Aiko gave the Mist-nin an evaluative stare, even as she worked her small kit of kunai against a whetstone.

Would he be able to do what Mei had done? Even aside from defeating the Mizukage, could he hold the respect of a village?

She didn't know.

He certainly looked imposing, even if he did look a bit like he'd dressed in the dark. That was kind of an admirable caveat to overcome. It could be useful. It was stupid bullshit, but people did react differently to enormously muscled and angry men than they did to people who looked like Aiko. Ninja weren't immune to that silliness.

'Should I even be doing this? I have no idea what kind of leader he is. It's hard to see how he could be worse than Yagura, but…'

Aiko wrestled with her conscience. If she got involved in Mist's internal affairs, didn't she have some kind of moral duty to not fuck them over? It was one thing to shrug, 'oh, that sucks', about people she'd never met. But if she'd been the one to change their lives for a selfish reason, that just seemed- no. She couldn't do that.

'Well. I have some time. I'll see what kind of person Zabuza is. If I don't like what I see, I'll just kill him and deal with Mei. No one else would know the difference, aside from Utakata, and he's not exactly the chattiest bastard around.'

Zabuza's irritated voice broke through her thoughts. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if there isn't a reason that you're staring at me and fondling your little toys."

"Ah." Aiko blinked down at her kunai, which was sparkling in a lovely way in the morning sun. It was perfectly sharp. "I see. Nothing personal." She slipped the weapon away, frowning at the necessity. She didn't like wearing the makeshift weapons pouch. It was either difficult to access or terribly unsubtle over civilian clothing. But she couldn't go to a fight like that completely without weaponry.

'I would do terrible things for a real holster and my shin and arm guards,' Aiko reminisced. 'And that mesh body armor. And boots. I wouldn't even care if the shirt and shorts were just flimsy crap. I'd feel more like me.'

Her companion must have noticed her frowning at her uninspired equipment and gear. "Don't you have that hunter nin outfit?" Zabuza gave her slacks and short-sleeved top a disdainful once-over. "What you have on is shit. It's not a civilian disguise, but it's not armor. Didn't anyone tell you that you need to do one or the other?"

'He's absolutely right.'

She couldn't let him get away with that.

Aiko gave him a condescending look, flipping her hair back. "What are your plans as Mizukage, other than critiquing my outfits?"

"Valid policy decision though it may be," Utakata added. He sat up. His hair lifted behind him in a cloud of knots. He blinked gummily. A hand went up to start picking out knots, as though this was routine.

'Oh.' Aiko felt her face pull into a demented grin without her permission. 'It was worth it. Sleeping on the ground like an animal was worth it, just to see that bedhead.'

"What is that awful face for?" Zabuza sounded like he didn't really want to know.

"I was worried that he was prettier than I am," Aiko explained vaguely. She let her expression settle into a haughty smirk. "He is. But my hair's better. It never does that."

"It frizzes in humidity," Utakata said mildly. "And your split ends are terrible." He was slipping his fingers through his hair quickly, tangles nearly defeated already. No wonder she hadn't seen that before. "I remain superior."

"Fuck you," Aiko rebutted pleasantly. "Zabuza?"

"I don't care about my hair," he spat. He hunched behind his sword defensively.

'I feel like I roll my eyes a lot more in the day I've known Zabuza.'

She valiantly kept her thoughts out of her tone. "Policies. I was asking about your policies. Goals. That kind of thing."

He narrowed his eyes at her. He pressed his lips even tighter together, until they formed a hard line.

Aiko let it drop. "Alright then." She gave one last stretch, and then swiveled her spine back to a more natural position. "We need a plan on how to deal with Gato and get Haku back. Don't you have some chuunin somewhere, too?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her hair brushed over her shoulder. Oh. Right. She needed to tie that back still. She slipped a hairband off her wrist and-

"We leave him." Zabuza bit out. He hefted his sword. "I don't give a shit about Gato. The Konoha fuckers can deal with him. As for Haku, he's useless to me."

Aiko stared, hair forgotten.

'That seems harsh.'

"He is your student, is he not?" Utakata surged to his feet, looking more like a wave than man. "As his teacher, you have a responsibility to him."

'Utakata's taking this personally.'

Zabuza snorted, an ugly, rough sound. "Teacher? I was never his teacher." He tapped his fingers mockingly against the hilt of his sword. "There's a reason I never trained him in this. He doesn't deserve this legacy. Besides." He turned away. "Little fucker moved in with Konoha as soon as I was gone, didn't he? He's a useless tool."

Something clicked in her head. Oh.

Utakata's pupils turned to slits, and the air began to smell like saltwater. "You are the disgrace. Traitor. Embarassment-"

"Catch up to me when your dog has calmed down," Zabuza shot over his shoulder. Then he leapt away.

Utakata snarled, twisting impotently.

Aiko reached out and didn't quite touch him. "It's fine."

"Fine?" He wheeled on her. Coral was crackling down his jaw. "He is a low and abhorrent creature. How can you condone this?"

'He looks like he's about to loose his demon.'

Carefully, she raised her hands to show her palms. The pacifying gesture seemed to shock Utakata. He blinked, focusing on her empty hands with intensity. Then he subsided, the pale fury beginning to recede. His pupils swelled. The coral fell away. Morning songbirds began peeping again. Aiko hadn't even noticed that they'd stopped.

"I apologize," he said stiffly. "I was… not myself."

'I think you were.'

"Zabuza is proud," Aiko said, instead of acknowledging Utakata's loss of control. "He views emotional attachment as a weakness."

"That does not excuse his behavior," Utakata said quietly.

She nodded. "It doesn't. But I'm not making excuses for his coldness. I'm saying that he wasn't telling the truth, because he doesn't want us to know that he cares for Haku."

Utakata blinked. His mouth opened the slightest fraction. His brows furrowed.

"He doesn't want to take Haku to Mist." Aiko crossed her arms. "He's glad that Konoha took him in. Haku is young and strong, and Konoha is notoriously soft. He thinks that Haku will be happier and better treated there than Zabuza can promise him."

The reasoning made an uncomfortable amount of sense. If Zabuza were to lose his fight against the Mizukage, his companions would die as well. Zabuza didn't want that for Haku. Zabuza recognized that even if the coup went perfectly, Mist was still dangerous and volatile. People who might not dare lash out at Zabuza might think Haku was a fair replacement. It was sort of traditional to kill the vassal to send a message.

Utakata relaxed, but he managed a scowl. "Zabuza-san is still an ass."

Aiko blinked twice. Um. "That's fair," she agreed. "He's not particularly charming. But I'm starting to think that he generally means well."

He focused on her, eyes narrowed. "Perhaps he will not be an abominable Mizukage. Do you care? Or does his ascension merely support your aims?"

'I could stand to be honest with him. It won't matter.'

"I'm trying to find out what kind of leader he is," Aiko admitted. "If I don't think he'll do well enough, I'll kill him and let Mei take over. I'm not interested in putting another violent lunatic in charge of people's lives."

Utakata hummed incomprehension. He closed his eyes. "I see."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. She rolled her ankle around, digging her toes in the dirt.

He still didn't say anything.

"Right." Aiko bent over to pick up her pack. "I suppose I should get going, then." She cleared her throat, feeling strange and unhappy. "It was… You weren't a terrible partner. 6/10, would do again if I had no other options."

"I give you 5/10," Utakata replied. His eyes flicked open, dispassionately watching her gather her belongings. "Your strange competency is at odds with your occasional bouts of lunacy and inexplicable decisions that seem to have no basis in situations at hand. However, you have some time to improve your score."

She stilled. "Oh?"

Utakata looked away. "You and Zabuza-san will need someone of reasonable intelligence, if you truly insist on leaving behind Haku-san. I shudder to think of what you might inflict on the unsuspecting populace without supervision."

Aiko flung an arm over his shoulder. "I like you too."

He reached out and tripped her.

Konoha, two months later.

"This Hikari-san was a kunoichi, you say?" The Sandaime frowned. "An associate of Zabuza's?"

'If so, she was a terrible ally. Digging up his body indicates investment in his death. Maybe a bounty hunter. Of course, that doesn't explain getting involved in Gato's affairs.'

Kakashi shook his head. "I didn't get that impression. I believe that she was the one who killed him, though I did not receive confirmation." He glanced at his genin. "What did you think?"

Sakura squeezed the fingers laced behind her back. "Hikari-san seemed very competent," she started uncertainly. "She did express sentiments that- that might make more sense in the context of a kunoichi. She attempted to advise me."

The Sandaime's face was dark.

"Nothing strange!" Sakura hastened. "Nothing, um. Treasonous. Just little things, about not letting the boys run off and leave me with chores."

He didn't say anything, but the oppressive air lifted. "I see. Naruto?"

The boy shrugged. "Hikari-san seemed alright to me. She was clumsy a lot, but she liked to help Tsunami-san. She was always cooking or something when she was at the house."

"Clumsy?" The hokage seemed slightly amused.

"Yeah." Naruto put a hand on his hip. "The first time I met her, she dropped her tea. And one time, she was bringing food to us while we worked and she almost fell down."

"That wasn't clumsiness," Sasuke retorted, rolling his eyes. The 'idiot' was unspoken, but heard loud and clearly. "Her eyes lost focus and her body leaned forward. She was lightheaded, probably from overexertion."

Kakashi sighed. "Sasuke-kun believes that Hikari-san was likely a civilian," he explained dryly. "Sasuke, I fought her. She's definitely a kunoichi."

"Ehhh?" Sakura perked up. "When-"

"Why?" Naruto burst out.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "The night you walked her home. She didn't come back after that."

'And isn't that strange?'

It had been what he wanted, but he hadn't really expected that she would never return. But the bridge was finished, and she had never shown her face again. If she'd truly been invested, why?

"Was she any good?"

Everyone looked at Sakura for that question. She flushed pink and looked at her feet.

"She was…"

'Fast. Angry at me personally. She fights a little like I do.'

Kakashi trailed off. Then he plastered on a bright, fake smile. "Maa, she beat me."

The Sandaime fumbled with his pipe, nearly dropping it onto his desk.

The room was dead silent.

'It's highly suspicious that a shinobi of that level was completely unknown to me. How? Who trained her? A Konoha nin?'

Kakashi rubbed at the back of his neck. "She stopped when she realized I wasn't going to dodge in time. Then she called me names." He frowned, faintly puzzled. "Including a vegetable." That still didn't make sense.

'The fact that she panicked when she thought she nearly hurt me, though. That's interesting. It's hard to reconcile that with the way she took down Zabuza. Does she count herself as a shinobi of Uzushiogakure? We are still technically allied. That might explain why she restrained herself around Konoha nin.'

"I see." The Sandaime was serious, now. "This is no ordinary missing nin, then. If she is a shinobi of such caliber, then she should not be unheard of."

"She claimed not to be a missing nin," Kakashi offered. He continued at the politely incredulous eyebrow his superior raised. "I thought she was lying," he admitted easily. "But now, I'm not certain. I don't believe she's a threat, Sandaime-sama."

At least, not directly.

The old man leaned back. "Oh? And why is that."

Kakashi glanced at his team, wondering again if the hokage would decide to keep the probable relation from Naruto. "She was in Wave for personal reasons that were not disclosed. I believe that she was the masked ninja who opposed Gato before our arrival. I do not feel that I can offer insightful speculation into her motivations at that point. However, she developed an interest in our team."

The Sandaime glanced at the genin. Sakura stood a little straighter. Sasuke continued watching the wall behind the hokage, but he tensed. Naruto was scratching at his leg with the toes of his other foot.

None of them looked remotely ready to risk near dangerous foreigners with unknown motivations.

"Yes, that is why I concluded she had to go," Kakashi elaborated carelessly. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Maa, she admitted to my face that she was attached to one of the genin because they shared similarities with someone she used to know."

And didn't that just open all sorts of possibilities? She hadn't even claimed it had been someone she'd loved. She could have been out for vicarious revenge on an Uchiha, or Minato-sensei, or Kushina-san. They'd all had bitter enemies.

The Sandaime easily caught his insinuation and hid whatever surprise he felt. "That sounds like an excellent reason not to trust this person," the hokage pointed out dryly. "We do not know her motivations or history."

Kakashi hesitated a little. "I think I know some of it," he said slowly. "I had- the first time that I saw her, I noticed a strong physical resemblance. And in our fight, she used a technique that I am familiar with."

The Hokage held up his hand. He inhaled deeply on his pipe and breathed smoke in to the room. His gaze trailed over each genin, thoughts transparent. Sakura-chan was civilian born. Sasuke-kun had only one living relative, and Kakashi wouldn't fail to recognize Itachi. The Hokage offered a guess. "Was it a sealing technique, perhaps?"

Naruto flinched.

"In a manner of speaking," Kakashi hedged. "Chakra chains."

The Hokage nodded slowly, laying his pipe down. "An Uzumaki, then." He said it carelessly, as though he had never considered hiding the information. He met Kakashi's eye, ignoring the open shock on the genin's faces. "I wonder… You said a strong resemblance- to-"

"Yes, to her," Kakashi agreed quickly. He didn't dwell on the hints of Minato he'd seen in her face. He didn't. It was illogical. Seeing Kushina made some sense, however. "Red hair. Slight build." He huffed wryly. "Temper, too."

"Not the traditional red shade, was it?" the Sandaime asked, leaning forward. "A little lighter, perhaps?"

A line appeared on Kakashi's brow. "Yes."

He didn't ask how the Sandaime knew, but the old man answered anyway. "I believe that you are not the first Konoha team to encounter this young lady." He nodded at the door. "Sakura-chan, would you mind asking my secretary for the mission report filed by Maito Gai four months ago, regarding an encounter with two rogue ninja?" As the girl left, he explained. "One of his genin produced rather handy resemblances. The male has already been identified. The young lady, however…" He trailed off. "Perhaps."

"Old man!" Naruto burst out, patience tested. "What do you mean? Who does she look like?" He turned his eyes on Kakashi. They were watering.

'I wouldn't have told him. This will only make things worse, if Hikari-san turns out to be an untrustworthy person.'

It was an effort not to wince.

"Naruto-kun," the Sandaime said sternly. "You are an adult, are you not? Surely you understand that there will always be things you do not know."

Against all odds, that did the trick. Naruto closed his mouth with a click of teeth and looked down at the floor. His bangs hid his expression.

'But he should know. He should know his mother's name. He should have grown up with her.'

Guilt settled heavily in his gut.

Sakura walked back into the room, holding a file.

The Hokage nodded to her. "Thank you, my dear. Would you look at the third page?"

She flipped it open. Her eyes widened. "Definitely her," Sakura agreed, angling the paper so that her teammates could see as well. "She wears civilian clothing even when she's on a mission, then?" She narrowed her eyes, glancing between the sketch and her blonde teammate critically.

"I guess," Naruto agreed softly. He was staring intensely at the sketch, fingers nearly reaching out to touch.

Sasuke huffed. He was looking away. "That seems impractical."

Unless a ninja had no need for armor or traditional gear.

Kakashi met the Sandaime's eyes, wondering the same thing. The jounin shrugged casually, even though no one was looking. "Maa, some shinobi do that. Tsunade-sama, for instance."

"As well as Hikari-san's partner," the Sandaim added slowly. "She was seen with a former Mist-nin known as Utakata."

'The rogue mist jinchuuriki? That's concerning. Could he have been around? Could it be that she has an interest in jinchuuriki?'

Kakashi startled at that. "I saw no sign of him."

"Perhaps they separated," the Sandaime proposed doubtfully. "However. Two incidents gives us a bit more to work with in terms of constructing a personality profile. Team seven. I would like you to complete as detailed a report on this person as possible, then read the account from team 9. See what consistencies and tendencies you can find." He fixed his stare on Kakashi. "You have a month. After that, the village will be otherwise occupied."

Right. The Chuunin exams. They would need all jounin working on security then. Kakashi nodded, even as he herded his genin out.

"Of course, Sandaime-sama."

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