#it’s missing Saru hours once again

[bobertbilliams]

The return of Action Saru!

[ridiasfangirlings]

i geniunely just feel like hurting myself w this anyw pre rok yata dead au fushimi finding his diary full of sad stuff

Remember: the best way to hurt yourself is to hurt everyone else reading this too :D Imagine how sad this would be though, Yata dying before he and Fushimi can reconcile and then Fushimi really getting to read and understand how much Yata missed him and that Yata never left him behind at all. Like say Yata gets randomly killed by some Strain, not even a super strong one or a King or anything, just a regular old Strain and Yata’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. Obviously in the aftermath Homra is dealing with things and Fushimi’s trying his hardest to act like he’s not affected when he’s really dealing with all these complex emotions. When Homra goes to clean out Yata’s place Kusanagi suggests Fushimi come along, Fushimi refuses but Anna shows up at S4 later holding a book in her hands. She gives it to Fushimi and tells him Misaki would have wanted him to have it. Fushimi bitterly denies that, why should Yata want to give anything to his enemy, but Anna just looks at him silently until he nods and takes the book.

It sits on Fushimi’s desk for a couple days before he can finally bring himself to open it, wondering why he would want to read Misaki’s stupid diary that’s probably all about how awesome Mikoto is. Instead the very first line on the first page is ‘Saruhiko left today.’ The entry goes on, ‘Totsuka-san said it might be good to write things down when I feel upset, so I guess I’ll try that. I’m not good at writing so this won’t be fancy or anything. I dunno what to write.’ And then a big space between paragraphs and at the bottom of the page: ‘I miss Saruhiko. What if he doesn’t come back?’.

Fushimi turns the page and there’s another entry, something random this time about all the fun Yata had that day in Homra, but then once again at the bottom of the page: ‘I’m glad I didn’t have to go back to the apartment until it was late. I miss having Saruhiko there.’ Fushimi wants to just shut the diary but he keeps reading, fingers clenching on the pages as he reads about the first time he and Yata met post-betrayal. Yata’s talking about how Fushimi’s such an asshole, such a traitor and Fushimi grins all ‘that’s right,’ but there’s still that last line: ‘why doesn’t he just come back already. I miss the old Saruhiko.’ Fushimi mutters to himself that Yata doesn’t understand if he’s still asking that, turning the page.

Yata’s diary talks about how he had to move out of the old apartment, ‘it feels too empty without Saruhiko. I dunno what to do with the stuff he left. I took the kotatsu but it stopped working again and I don’t know how to fix it. I brought Saru’s stuff along anyway, I put it in the closet. If he comes back, I’ve got it.’ Fushimi suddenly remembers Kusanagi asking him to come clean Yata’s place and he clicks his tongue, wondering why his vision is blurring suddenly and muttering that the low light is making his eyes sting. He keeps on reading and there are so many entries, a lot of them are about Homra but even more are about him, Yata wondering if Fushimi’s eating right (‘he just looks so skinny okay, what are those assholes feeding him at Scepter 4,’), worrying when he hears someone at S4 got hurt in a mission (‘why the hell should I even worry about that bastard…anyway I bet he’s fine, right? Saruhiko is strong’), talking about old memories and wondering what happened to make things turn out this way (‘Did I do something? Did I make Saruhiko leave? I just want him to come back and be my friend again’). Soon Fushimi’s been up hours and imagine him finally just shoving the book in his desk, hiding his face with his hands and trying to tell himself that this doesn’t matter, it’s fine isn’t it, everything broke anyway so it’s fine that he left, even though he’ll never see Misaki again it’s fine.

[starryeyes2000]

That Night and Morning on Discovery: Chapter 4

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Masterlist

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Teen, mild references to sex

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: A week after the events on New Eden, Discovery's crew is granted much needed leave. Chris' wife joins him on Discovery for a little R&R of their own. But a Captain is never really off-duty and personal time is scarce.

ooooo

That Night on Discovery

They were again alone. But as word spread about Discovery’s imminent departure from the Starbase, Chris’ communicator beeped incessantly – the comms officer on duty, Saru, Michael, Una, the comms officer …

Jerking on a fresh uniform, Chris said impatiently, “This will be faster on the bridge.” Softening his tone, he continued, “I’m sorry. Things are delicate here and the crew still needs extra hand-holding.”

“It’s OK.” Aalin replied as she brushed non-existent lint of his shoulder. “They will calm down in twenty or thirty minutes.” She smiled, “Besides, I miss these old uniforms. The blue matches your eyes. And what I zip now I get to unzip later.”

In response to his happy, mischievous grin she quickly corrected, “The jacket, I meant the jacket.”

Now laughing Chris retorted, “Yeah, sure, of course … you forget how well I know you.”

Aalin mock saluted and in an irreverent tone acknowledged, “Yes sir, whatever you say sir.”

“Damn straight. And I’ll remember that.”

The communicator beeped again. Surrendering to the inevitable, he left.

Later

Chris sat tiredly on the sofa after pouring a drink. “I should extend Discovery’s stay at this base.”

“Is something wrong?” Aalin asked with concern in her voice.

He shook his head, “Not wrong, but the ship sustained damage during the war that needs tended and Lorca ignored a great deal of maintenance work that didn’t support his goals. Then there is the crew …”

After another sip, Chris rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

“They should have extended leave, all of them. Oh, their performance and commitment are above par, but I can see the disillusionment in their eyes. I can hear the fatigue in their voices. The junior officers and enlisted crew are still skittish. Continuing to push them on this high-stakes mission is not in their long-term best interests.”

“Hmmm, I see.”

“You disagree?”

Aalin leaned over and gently massaged his temples. “Yes. I think they need you more than they need shore leave. I saw hints of optimism and hope in Linus’ eyes. That’s changed from the demeanors you described to me during your first week on board.” She remained silent as he finished the drink and absorbed her response.

Then she asked, “Are you ready to talk about Spock’s drawings?”

He nodded.

“As I told you yesterday, there’s been no improvement. Each day he withdraws more, pulls further away from … understanding who he is, where he is, and what is happening around him.” She paused and continued when he didn’t comment. “Spock spends hours writing and drawing. Erasing and rewriting and redrawing. Then erasing and starting the cycle again. He’s also scribbling what appears to be gibberish and sketching what look like star maps on the walls and floor of his room. Periodically he stops and rocks back and forth as he hugs himself and keens.”

“How did I miss this?” Chris asked softly, mostly to himself.

“You didn’t. We didn’t. He went from being a little more withdrawn than usual and requesting leave to suddenly calling for you, incoherent and frantic, and begging for your help. Una and I are trying to retrace his steps after he took leave. Maybe we can find the trigger event.” Aalin watched as he walked to the viewport and gazed out of it, which was Chris-speak for ‘I am trying to process all of this.’ She leaned back on the sofa and waited for an indication he was ready to hear more.

“Did he respond to any of his sister’s communications?”

“He refused all of them. When I asked him to reconsider, he was openly angry. Chris, how many times have you seen Spock express anger? Once, maybe twice? What happened between the two of them?”

“Is that when he broke your wrist?”

“No. That was an accident. He simply didn’t remember his strength.”

Chris turned and stared at her. Aalin was also skilled at translating his silences. She said firmly, “Don’t make this an impossible choice for yourself. I feel safe with him. I am safe with him. He clutched my wrist trying to stay connected to reality, it wasn’t an act of violence. He isn’t capable of harming, intentionally or otherwise. You were right. He needs an advocate there. And Spock asked you to make medical decisions if he was incapacitated. You need first-hand information to do that.”

Aalin activated the diagram of the seven signals. Beside it was another diagram with a series of pictures. “Come,” she beckoned with her hand. He watched as she overlaid seven of the pictures on the signals diagram. “These are not exact matches, but I think the differences are stylistic. Spock is rendering each signal individually, over and over.” She moved other pictures beside each overlay, each was a random collection of numbers and symbols. “I think these are jumbled equations and coordinates.”

“Jumbled?”

She paused to think of an example. “Shuffled, like the sentence ‘see spot run’ written as ‘run spot see’. As if he cannot think or process information in a linear fashion. The equations repeat and are scrambled in different ways. Each of his signal drawings has one or more of these addendums of numbers and symbols.”

“Is he trying to send us a message?”

“Perhaps. But I could be looking at a horse and seeing a zebra.”

Chris was now in Captain mode. “Explain.”

“I’m not a mathematician. And I’m most likely making connections that do not exist. You should have your folks analyze it.”

“Stop qualifying. How many languages do you speak? And you are an accomplished musician. Both require pattern recognition skills. Math is just another language. To you those symbols are a language.” Chris was careful to keep his frustration out of his firm tone of voice, thinking, when is she going to believe she deserves her commission as much as anyone who attended the Academy?

“Perhaps … I think …” she stopped and took a deep breath. “Those are four dimensional equations. I’m sure of it. He’s trying to sequence the signals. Add time. I’ve found three distinct cycles so far. There are likely more.”

“Show me the sequences you have documented.”

The display changed. He eliminated the one that did not start with the asteroid and continue to New Eden. Then said, thinking out loud. “If this proves out, if we could anticipate and arrive before the signal appears … that would be a game changer.” He reached for the communicator. “Find Commander Airiam and have her meet me in conference room two.” He turned to Aalin, “I want you to brief her. She can continue the analysis and update Saru and Michael.”

When they returned to his quarters a light was blinking on the desk. “I see internal comms are back.” Chris remarked as he scanned the message. “No, wait,” he called Aalin back as he finished reading. “It’s not time sensitive.”

He reached for her and moved close. After tilting her chin up, he kissed her, a lingering kiss that wasn’t chaste but also not overly demanding, a kiss of affection and promise.

She leaned into his hand as he cupped her cheek and, smiling down at her, he traced a thumb across her cheekbone. Slowly he unbuttoned her shirt and deftly unhooked the bra and tossed it onto the floor.

Leland would have called him old, boring, and settled, but Chris liked this stage of their relationship. Where they understood the other’s smiles, frowns, tones of voice, and body language. Where they could communicate across a room without saying a word. Where they knew every nuance of the other’s body – which touch comforted, which touch ignited a slow fire, which touch lit a rocket.

He knew if he placed a hand on the side of her waist she would tremble slightly and move closer; and was pleased when she did. He stroked her back with the other, using the soft fabric to enhance the sensuality of his touch. When she tilted her head to the side, he nibbled her ear lobe and then kissed the curve where her neck and shoulder joined.

He continued the delicate kisses down her shoulders and neck and chest. Sometimes directly on skin, sometimes over the silk fabric. The erotic combination of kiss and silk elicited hitched breaths and murmurs. At the same time he walked them to the bed, and once she was settled on the edge, sank down on his knees in front of her.

It was clear she was holding back because of his injury, unsure how to touch him without causing discomfort. She started tugging off his shirt but when he frowned slightly, she stopped, interpreting the look as an expression of pain. He pulled the shirt off and placed her hand over his injured ribs. “Just a twinge. It really does look worse than it feels.”

Her voice was very quiet when she finally replied, “I hope so.” Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her and holding tight; burying her head against his shoulder, tears pooling in her eyes, as she gave into the fear of losing him. He returned the embrace, whispering reassurances.

When the only thing left separating them was the thin silk blouse, Chris gently laid her back and continued kissing and caressing, coaxing her mind and body to that moment he yearned for as much as his own release. The moment where he moved her out of time and wholly into a present that consisted only of his love for her and the pleasure he was giving her.

She sighed “Christopher.”

Aalin only used his full name on two occasions – the other due to a quite different emotion.

Craving intimacy and careful of Chris’s injury, they moved to lay facing one another, limbs entwined, slowly and tenderly building, and then finally collapsing into each other’s arms.

Aalin was on the verge of drifting off to sleep when Chris edged closer and asked, “What did Reno mean about telling Linus he was right?”

“Do you really want to know?” She asked sleepily.

“Yes.”

“Are you absolutely sure? Once I tell you, you can’t unknow it.”

“OK, now you’re waving a red flag. Yes, I want to know.”

Fully awake, she mused, “Intriguing. As in waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. Which makes you, in your own metaphor, a stubborn bull. Is that art imitating reality?”

“Less about the metaphor and more about Reno’s statement please.” Chris prompted in his commander’s voice.

“OK.” She propped her head up on a bended arm asking, “Are you familiar with Saurian culture?”

He shook his head.

“I spent three months there during the treaty negotiations for their entry into the Federation. It is, shall we say, an extremely male dominated society. A culture where … physical attributes are one of the most important qualifications for a leader.” Aalin paused waiting for Chris to catch-up.

And waited. And waited thinking, he has odd moments of naivety, before finally prompting, emphasizing the key word, “Where the measure of a man is literally the measure of a man.”

“I don’t under … oh. Oh. OH.”

“During our conversation in the turbolift Linus remarked that you are an impressive Captain.”

He groaned. “Next time I will heed your advice and not ask questions.”

Her brow creased as she carefully pondered his response. Then her eyes lit up. “Ah-ha.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah-ha. What I just heard from you is … ‘you are always right’.” Aalin explained in a triumphant tone.

“Not at all what I said.”

“Who is the interpreter in the family?” She asked and then continued without permitting a reply. “That’s right, me. And you admitted you should listen to me, ergo, I am always right.”

Chris chuckled as his hands started to roam over her. “You only resort to Latin when your point is on shaky ground. But I will concede, for now, if it gets us to round two faster. Since I have high expectations to live up to.”

He felt the ship shudder almost imperceptibly. There wasn’t time to issue an alert. There was barely time to calculate the angle and hook his arm around Aalin’s waist before the ship violently quaked and they tumbled onto the floor.

They landed with an audible thud; she on his injured side, the elbow from the arm she instinctively put out to break her fall digging into his broken ribs and winding him. Quickly rolling off, she helped him sit up.

“I’m fine.” He said reflexively unable to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Damn it, Christopher, what were you thinking?”

When she was vexed with him was the other occasion she used his full name.

[bluebellwriting]

Mom-Friend Looking For A Dad-Friend - Part 1

Summary: Saru x chubby!reader in which you are Sylvia Tilly’s older sister, (Y/N) Tilly. You are a therapist on the USS Discovery and the ship’s resident mom-friend. Your little sister thinks it’s about time her Starfleet parents finally hooked up. (Title is based off of my Hinge profile)

(Y/N)’s POV

You were settling into your office on the USS Discovery, situated just down the hall from the med bay. It was small but cozy and would only get cozier once you unpacked your plants and little trinkets from home. Once the doors were closed behind you, you set your box of mementos down and took a moment to take in the room. Making sure that the doors are closed, you take a moment to squeal and pump your fists in the air. It’s quite unprofessional for a lieutenant commander, but you’ve never had a whole office to yourself before. 

Apparently the ship’s former captain, Gabriel Lorca, never felt the need for counselors or therapists, which you thought was horrible and inconsiderate. But when your own captain, Captain Pike, announced that he was transferring temporarily to head the Discovery, he had requested you accompany him to be the ship’s temporary counselor. He didn’t go into much detail for “security reasons,” but he felt that the crew would benefit from your services and your motherly nature.

It also helped that your baby sister was an ensign on the ship.

Your little celebratory moment was ruined by the sound of your doors opening. You froze, imagining the captain or some high-ranking commander walking in on your moment of unprofessionalism. Honestly, this was not a reflection of your normally responsible self and as you turned slowly around, you were running through in your mind exactly how you would defend yourself. Until you saw the familiar red and wild hair of your sister. 

You run forward and envelop her in a hug, relishing the feel of a familiar body pressed against yours. You have been so worried for her while you were away on the Enterprise and she was off fighting a war. Not a day went by that you didn’t dread the idea of getting the message from your mother that she was gone. But now she’s here, safe and sound in your arms where you can protect her, like you always have. You were so wrapped up in fussing over your sister that you didn’t even notice the incredibly tall man watching you both fondly from the doorway until he cleared his throat.

“Oh! Oh right.” Sylvia steps to the side with her arm stretched, literally presenting the tallest and... cutest man you had ever seen. Immediately you were entranced by the ridges of his face and his eyes. Oh dear Lord those eyes. 

“Commander, this is my sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Commander Saru. He was my sponsor to the command program and was--”

“Previously acting Captain, yes. Captain Pike filled me in.” You step forward and extend your hand to him. You try really, really hard not to shiver when his fingers engulf your palm and hold it securely. You feel so small in front of him -- which is rare for you, your past boyfriends made it a point to constantly bring up your largeness -- but your hand fits perfectly in his like two puzzle pieces finding each other. It’s as thrilling as it is frightening.

“I’m Doctor (Y/N) Tilly. It’s very nice to meet you, Commander.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, as well, Doctor.” Oh he was such a gentleman. 

Saru’s POV

Saru was expecting another Sylvia Tilly, when said ensign insisted that he come meet her sister. And because he was so fond of the tenacious girl, he allowed her to all but pull him through the halls towards an office just off of the med bay.

“I just have a feeling that you two will really like each other,” she was telling him as they approached the doors. “She’s so kind and sweet. She was basically the mom I always wanted which was nice considering the mom we did have was--” As she rambled, Saru just nodded his head and mentally prepared himself to engage in some pleasantries and then a quick return to the bridge for a meeting with Captain Pike. He was honestly in a somewhat sour mood after having the captaincy stolen from him, even if he knew it was going to be temporary anyway. Hey, a Kelpien can dream.

What he was not expecting was the sight of quite literally the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But there she was, hugging her sister tightly and soundly in a very cramped office filled with boxes of plants and flowers. And when you took his hand and grinned up at him, he felt his heart soar and a tingling in his limbic system. He could stand in the glow of your smile for hours and so desperately wanted to know what a hug from you felt like. Probably like being home. He had to restrain his arm from reaching out for you after you had pulled away from the handshake. He was completely and utterly hooked on you.

Sylvia seemed to notice, because she shot him a devious grin at the sight of what he was now realizing was his own love sick smile. Really, you have to be more professional, he scolded. But you’re chatting happily away with your sister while unloading your plants, cradling each adorable pot like a mother carries her child. Alright, professionalism be damned, he knew he needed to be next to you every moment for the rest of your lives.

On Kaminar, Kelpien life expectancies were uncertain but undeniably short, which meant that when decisions about family, friends, children had to be instinctual. And while Saru knew that he was safe from that life, that he was far more secure than anyone from back home could have ever hoped for, he still felt those same instincts. He felt them for Michael and Captain Georgiou and Sylvia and now here you were, the sight of you creating a piercing, knowing feeling deep in his gut.

You struggled to hang one of your plants on the highest shelf behind your desk. Just as you were about to pull out your spinny chair and use it as a stool, Saru quickly made his way over so he could hover over you.

“May I?” He was genuinely nervous that you would say no and he’s not quite sure why. But this was important, this offering of help and for care. You gave him a toothy grin and carefully transferred the plant from your hands into his large, awaiting ones. 

“Thank you, Commander. This is my String of Hearts and she likes to be up high.” Saru didn’t bat an eye at the fondness you held for the plant, rather he was quite familiar with the love you felt for them.

“It’s really no trouble. I too have quite the collection back in my quarters.”

“Really?”

“Yes, they are mostly plants from my home world, although I have collected quite a few species from visits to other planets.”

“Maybe you could show my sister some time, Commander!” Sylvia’s voice, really it’s more like a yelp, interrupts you both. You were eyeing her strangely while Saru tried his best to signal her with his widened eyes, stop, please with a hint of what are you planning. Sylvia just grinned widely and devilishly at them both.

“If, um, you don’t mind Commander, I would be happy to have lunch with you sometime to discuss our plant babies,” you offered slowly, your voice soft and hopeful. Oh, oh, he definitely wanted to have lunch with you. Was today too soon? Probably. Okay, calm down Saru, she’s not going to disappear.

Third Person POV

Four Months Later

Sylvia was just absolutely ecstatic that her plan was working. When she had started getting closer to Saru during the way, started seeing his paternal nature and his unmeasured empathy towards others, her mind had immediately thought of her darling sister. How you were just as nurturing as him and cared about everyone, how you were so caught up with loving others that you very rarely had time to meet anyone who loved you just as deeply. How the only two boyfriends you had ever had were complete assholes who took your tenderness for granted and only gave you criticism for return. How you were so hesitant to fall in love again and how she was absolutely sure that Saru was made for you and vice versa. So as soon as you stepped onto the ship, Sylvia begged and bothered Saru to come welcome you until he finally agreed. And oh is he glad he agreed.

From that day on you and Saru became practically inseparable. Saru made it his mission to be near you every second possible and you found yourself quite taken with the impossibly sweet man. Which was unusual, you had built this thick wall around your heart after your last relationship ended. But Saru just wormed his way past your guard with his gentle smiles and thoughtfulness. You would spend every meal together, talking about your plants, your favorite books and music. He had even started teaching you some basics in some of the many languages he knew. You don’t know why, but knowing about his profound knowledge of languages made you fall even harder for him.

Everyone on the ship seemed to realize that you were made for each other, too. There were bets made about when you would get together, whispers about ships through the halls. The drama over when Discovery’s mom-friend and dad-friend would make it official was a welcomed respite from the stresses of their mission to find the Red Angel. 

But the turning point for you was one night when you were completely swamped with patient notes and analysis. You had just messaged Saru letting him know that you had to skip your dinner plans to finish your work. You were quite disappointed, you hadn’t missed a dinner with him in the four months of your friendship and you lived for your conversations with him. It was just so comfortable and he made you feel so heard. But tonight you were looking at a sad, late night meal in your quarters after you were exhausted from staring at PADDs all day. At least, you thought so, until your door opened mere minutes after you had messaged Saru. In walked this precious man, carrying your favorite soup and a cup of coffee on a tray, along with some tea and salad for himself. 

“Just because we can’t have dinner in the cafeteria, doesn’t mean we can’t have dinner together.” He gave you a shy look as he set the tray down in front of you and took a seat on the other side of your desk. Honestly your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. He was a dream, a lovely and beautiful dream.

“Saru I... Thank you.” You set your PADD down and decided that maybe a short break couldn’t hurt.

“You are most welcome, (Y/N). I couldn’t bear the thought of you not eating a proper meal.”

“Is this potato leak soup?” Saru nodded, pleased with himself.

The two of you ate silently for a while as you continued your work. Saru was quite content in watching you. It was quiet moments like this where he would take in everything he loved about you besides your mind and wit. The soft curl of your hair, the way your eyebrows creased as you read, or the bright (e/c) of your eyes. His eyes very slowly trail down, when you aren’t flashing the occasional smile at him, to take in his other favorite part about you. Saru -- and he gets incredibly embarrassed when he thinks of you like this because he is a gentleman through and through -- just really loves your body. In a totally not creepy way, he is obsessed with how small and soft you are compared to him. He still has dreams about the first time you hugged him and the feeling of his arms around your plush waist holding you close.

“All done,” you announce with a sigh. Saru snaps his eyes from where they were lingering on your collar bone back up to you. He throws on his most innocent smile, trying to pretend he wasn’t just fantasizing about wrapping his body around your own. 

“Thank you again. I’m sure this is not how you wanted to spend your evening, sitting in silence while I just work away.”

“Nonesense.” He pauses, debating his next words. “Any time spent with you is time well spent.” 

You bite your tongue for a moment, wondering if you should let slip the words you so desperately wanted to bestow upon him. Would he think you’re being too forward? Would he think you were flirting with him? I mean, you did want to flirt with him, and hug him and kiss him and rub your hands down his-- woah, calm down, (Y/N), he’s right there. 

“Still,” you start, deciding to take a big risk. “It was incredibly sweet of you. I’ve never had anyone bring me dinner before.” Saru beams and fills his heart swell at the praise, but his joy stalls at that one offhand comment.

“Never?” Honestly, he was curious. You had never mentioned past relationships before and he was secretly dying to know if he was even someone you would consider for a romantic relationship.

You take a deep breath, “I mean, I’ve only ever had two boyfriends in the past and neither were that... thoughtful. Well, at first they were. But over time they both ended up being a bit too self-centered, a bit too critical.” 

Saru feels like his cup is about to break in his grip. How could anyone be so cruel to you, so unappreciative, so blind? 

You bow your head, worried you might have divulged too much but Saru leans forward and takes one of your hands into his. His thumb rubs your knuckles and immediately your past relationships and the sad memories they dredge up vanish. As if there was no one before him, as if there was always just Saru.

“If you don’t mind me being so forward, it is their loss. (Y/N), you are a wonder, anyone who cannot see that or appreciate that is a fool and does not deserve you.” He’s staring at you incredibly intensely, his lovely eyes trying to convey all the adoration he feels for you, his desire to see you cared for as you deserve.

Your eyes shine and you don’t even think. You just stand and round your desk, engulfing Saru in a hug before he can rise to meet you or he can see the tears in your eyes. Your body folds perfectly into his as his arms wrap securely around your waist. In this position your heads are level, and he uses this opportunity to slightly nestle his head against your neck and shoulder. He hopes he’s being inconspicuous. He also hopes you’re getting the message, that he is absolutely smitten with you. 

[shutupanddance]

A Few Mildly Important Notes

things my followers should know regarding changes to my blog, requests, etc! (especially if you’re a new follower <3)

PLEASE READ. THANK YOU!!

I will need your feedback on #5, if you want to skip everything else <3

1. I’ve finally updated my to-do list on my Master Post!! As a reminder, it’s pinned to my blog. You can also access the Master Post through this link:

https://shutupanddance.tumblr.com/post/656310437579767808/master-post

In case you’re new here, the Master Post has all sorts of useful information about my blog! The To-Do list on it will show you what I’m working on at any given moment.

If you’ve sent a request in, you should see it on that list!! If you don’t, please contact me and let me know so I can sort it out <3 I don’t want to miss anyone!

2. The Summer Event is still active!! But I have changed how it appears on my blog.

Any current events will now be advertised on my Master Post as the FIRST section. All you have to do is click “keep reading”, and it will be the very first thing to pop up.

As a reminder, while requests are closed, you cannot ask for a Summer Event piece. UNLESS YOU ARE ONLY ASKING FOR AN IMAGINE. (This is a new rule, which is why I’m telling you now.)

3. Speaking of requests, when will they be open again?

The answer is not very simple.

I am hoping to have them open again by the close of business on Sunday, but I have family in town at the moment, and not really a lot of time to work on the current ones.

I REALLY want to open them soon, because I’ve been getting so many creative requests lately, and I really love writing for you all. So it will happen. I promise.

This leads me to the next change on my blog:

4. REQUEST SLOTS.

Now, to make it easier to keep track of when requests will close/open (because it’s been a bit random), I’m introducing request slots!

C, how does this work?

Simple! On my Master Post, under the “To-Do List” section, you will see a note in big capital letters that says REQUEST SLOTS: FULL. When requests are open, there will be a fraction, such as 5/15, or 3/7. The denominator will be the maximum amount of requests I am receiving at the moment (which will fluctuate based on how busy I am), and the numerator will be based on how many requests I have in my inbox!

So, if you’re thinking of requesting, not only will it say requests are closed/open on my bio, but you can also look at the requests slots to see how many are left. This is just my way of staying sane.

I literally never thought I’d have the problem of too many requests coming in every time I open my asks, so this is a happy problem 😂

5. I have an important question with a potentially important announcement (based on your answers):

I know I frequently post random updates and things, but I have an idea to condense it all into a sort of “newsletter”. Here’s the concept:

Once a week (on a day I have not yet decided), I will send out an “Updates” post. It will be much like this post and contain any new information about my blog, an update on the current To-Do list, the current request slots, and a few other features if you want:

I was thinking maybe a section on my favorite WIP, my current favorite piece of writing I’ve completed, my current favorite song, and/or a fun fact about me? Something along those lines.

What do you think? Please leave a comment or send an ask or a message telling me how you feel about this, or what you’d want to see in a “Newsletter”. Thanks kids!!

6. THE EMOJI GAME IS DISCONTINUED!!!

Thanks for playing! I loved sharing bits and pieces of my WIPS with y’all, but I have to stop for now and focus on work <3

7. JUST A FEW RANDOM NOTES BELOW. READ IF YOU WANT.

+ If you have a request currently pending, I apologize for the time it’s taking me. I know you’re used to me answering quickly, but I’ve been so busy, and there are so many to answer. I really appreciate your patience, and promise they will get done!

+ If you are the person who sent in the Saru request, thank you! I actually know nothing about Saru (I’ve only seen the reboots and a bit of TOS), but I am going to do my darndest to get the right research and nail his character as best I can.

+ Just another reminder that requests are answered IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER, other than me trying to space fandoms out so we all don’t lose our minds. Thanks.

+ No, I am not from the South, I am from the Mason-Dixon line. Yes, I use “y’all” because everyone around me does. Also because it’s the best word ever invented.

+ Thank you to @evangeliamerryll and @eminems-skittles who have been reblogging my posts!! And to anyone else who reblogs!! I appreciate you so much, especially the comments that you add and the sweet messages you send!!

AND THANK YOU AND WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW FOLLOWERS!!! I LOVE YA!!!

I used to be a nobody, but now my requests fill up within 48 hours of me opening them, and I have dozens upon dozens of notes on my fics. If you’re new, I’m sorry that things are taking longer. I seriously never expected to blow up like this.

I SAY IT AGAIN AND AGAIN, BUT I HAVE THE BEST FOLLOWERS!!! YOU ARE THE REASON I WRITE, AND I CARE DEEPLY ABOUT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. THANK YOU!!

also, today is a migraine day. So either a BUNCH of requests will be answered, or none at all. Thank you for reading and being patient with me <3

This post is an attempt to make things easier for everyone now that I have so many followers 😳

[ezrisdax-archive]

don't try and figure out why (it's simply divine)

also here on ao3

Joann stifled a jaw cracking yawn; she only had a few minutes before her shift was over and beta shift took their positions.

Technically the alpha shift should have been over hours ago but they’d been thrown into a tense situation of The Emerald Chain attacking an outpost and were only coming off the battle. Rhys and herself had had to work together to scan the ships for vulnerabilities and she was still sifting through the data to record anymore in case of future encounters.

“Hey.” A voice said above her and a hand landed on her shoulder.

She looked up to see Keyla standing there.

“Come on, let’s go get dinner and then crash.” Keyla offered her a tired smile.

Their relief had come onto the bridge and though a tad reluctant Joann let her station go to follow her friends into the turbolift.

Exhaustion had hit them all and adrenaline had run off, most of them were falling against each other and even Tilly’s usual boundless energy had been drained as she was practically draped across Michael and saying every other word with yawn.

Keyla was a warm presence next to her and Joann leaned in, soaking up that warmth that was making her sleepy before Keyla nudged her.

“Food first.” Keyla teased.

“At this point I might even eat gagh if it gets me to bed faster.” Joann muttered.

Keyla made a face at the suggestion, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

The group stumbled out of the turbolift and headed to the mess hall, each taking a tray with the same sleepy eyed bleariness they all felt.

When they reached the table with their food Joann took the seat next to Keyla. Normally she’d sit across from her but it felt right to just collapse into the chair next to Keyla’s and poke at her food.

She glanced over at Keyla who looked suddenly even more tired than she had previously and Joann wondered if she was thinking over the maneuvers she’d had to do to get them out of range of the Andorian ship.

“Nice flying.” Joann said, pushing her foot against Keyla’s to get her attention and leaving it there, telling herself she was just too tired to move it.

Keyla sunk further into her chair. “Thanks.” She said quietly and Joann had a bad feeling she was about to start overthinking everything.

“You know the first time I flew on something it was a shuttle that was in the next town over from my home.” Joann said, saying the first thing that came to mind. “I always wanted to see what it was like so I snuck out while we were visiting to trade and me and my friends paid for a shuttle ride around the city. I don’t think my parents ever found out.”

She wondered if they did after she left, if her friends had told them, if they’d watched shuttles fly out again and thought of their daughter long gone.

Keyla grin was slow but amused.

“Joann Owosekun,” She laughed, “Rule breaker.”

“I doubt I was the only one here to.” Joann shot back. “Something tells me that a person doesn’t get a pilots license at twelve without breaking a few.”

Keyla straightened in her chair and leaned into Joann like she was about to tell her a secret. “I once stole my dad’s truck to test it in the field nearby.”

“How’d that go?”

Keyla winced. “I crashed it into a tree.” She admitted sheepishly.

Joann couldn’t contain her laughter at that. “Starfleet’s finest beginning.” She got out between her laughter.

“You know what I always wanted to try?” Keyla asked, ignoring Joann breaking up near her.

Joann pulled herself back together, “Do tell.”

“Those old shuttles, like the ones that didn’t have inertial dampers and took weeks to get anywhere.”

“Didn’t you ever try those on the holodeck?” Joann asked curiously.

“It’s not the same still.” Keyla sighed.

“Maybe one day we can go back to earth, see if they still have any of those lying around.”

“Like a road trip?” Keyla looked amused, glancing over at Joann.

Joann hummed, “It might be nice, just take a break there and enjoy the sights.” Something she’d clearly taken advantage of when she was on Earth but wouldn’t miss out on again.

“Yeah.” Keyla agreed quietly, “I think that sounds good.” Her hand had slipped off the table, dangling by the edge of her chair and Joann’s own.

“I’m sure we could find an adventure or two.” Joann said, trying to eat one handedly so she didn’t have to pull away from Keyla’s. It would be so easy to slip her fingers between Keyla’s own, the warmth nearly burning her now. “Don’t worry,” She assured Keyla. “I’ll scan for plant life before we go.”

Keyla huffed in amusement. “I haven’t crashed in years.”

“And I trust that you won’t.” Joann said meaningfully, stating it as a fact and a show of faith in Keyla.

“It’s easier to believe I won’t when you’re nearby.” Keyla admitted, her voice low again so the others wouldn’t hear them though they were absorbed in all their own conversations at the table.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” Joann gave up, linking her fingers between Keyla’s own.

Keyla opened her mouth like she was about to say something but shut it with a soft smile.

They ate quietly, letting everyone else talk around them and stood up with quick good night to the group. If anyone noticed how they had to let go of each other’s hand to grab their tray they said nothing but Joann caught a look between Saru and Michael of amusement.

Discovery’s hallway was as familiar as ever with Keyla next to her but the lights felt brighter as they walked down it.

“Hey.” Joann said when they reached her own quarters, pulling Keyla towards it lightly and giving her a chance to leave now if she wanted to. Keyla followed her in and let the door shut behind her.

When she kissed her Keyla tasted like apple pie Tilly had insisted they eat for dessert and Joann reached up to rest a hand on the back of Keyla’s neck, tugging her closer as they stumbled back towards Joann’s bed.

They broke apart only when they both had to yawn and exchanged a tired glance.

“We can try this another night, we’ve got time.” Joann said.

Keyla mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation and rested her head against Joann’s shoulder.

They struggled to get their boots off between lazy kisses, halfway a mixture of exhaustion and excitement of a new beginning.

“You really trust me to get us where we need to go?” Keyla asked as the lights went out.

“If you can’t nobody can.” Joann said, slipping her arm around Keyla’s waist.

The warmth drew her in once more and Joann let it, shutting her eyes and trusting that Keyla would be there when she woke up.

[carrietrekkie]

An evening in San Francisco.

Hello together!

I wish you all a lovely Sunday evening! We´ll go on where we left Chris and Cathrin, somewhere at the Starfleet High Command in San Francisco!

Enjoy and if you don´t mind, leave me some fb!

@bold-brave-courageous @allthetrek @reeselivesforeverinmyheart

"I didn´t think we would meet again so soon." "Ask us." Tilly grinned over her ears, like all those who were sitting at our table. "Okay, there we have our order." Detmer slipped between Owo and Michael and placed our drinks in the middle of the table. The liquids spilled over a bit, no wonder, this was far from our first round. "And the guy at the bar up front wanted to know who the sweet redhead is."

"Whaaat?" Tilly chuckled, then we all tried to unobtrusively see who was there. "Oh man! Not all at once!" "Yeah, he's cute." I raised my hand and waved to him, he replied somewhat perplexed. "Come on, talk to him!" "No, I will not!" "Yes, you will!" Michael poked her in the arm. "Be spontaneous, otherwise you didn´t fall on your mouth."

"Do it." I took my drink and pulled on the black straw. "Otherwise I'll do it." I raised my eyebrows. Tilly rolled her eyes, rose to her feet, stroking her jacket and making her way to the bar. "Well, then." Owo pushed her glass down to Burnham, then took her own, Detmer followed. "Ladies." We nudged briefly and each took a sip. "Okay, after we talked at length about what it was like after you left Discovery." Detmer grinned at me. "Out with it, how is it on the Enterprise?"

I laughed briefly and looked at them. "How should it be?" "Are you kidding?" The pilot's eyes widened. "The flagship of the fleet and you have nothing to tell?" "It's a huge spaceship! Where the Discovery has a few recreational areas, it has a huge deck, there is a park there, no joke, with a creek! " "Sounds like a dream." "Yeah, I thought so, but the last week looked like this." I sat up and cleared my throat a little. "If I didn´t sleep, I ran after Dr. Boyd in the sick bay or learned. The rest of the time I've spent getting lost and trying to find my way back to my quarters. " Three pairs of incredulous eyes blinked at me. Detmer found her voice first again. "Oh." She gave me a quick jerk at the corners of her mouth. "What did you expect?" I spread my arms. "That was just few days, no more than a long bus ride." "Well, a little bit more spectacular." Owo exchanged a look with Burnham. "It was even more exciting with us." Burnham also looked disappointed and I immediately wished that Tilly's flirtation got in the pants and she would draw the attention again. A look to the side told me, however, that it seemed to be getting wonderful. "How about, you just tell me what you want to hear from me?" I took another sip of my drink. That would be the last one for today. "So who wants to go first?" The three exchanged a few glances, then Michael started to grin and looked at me. "You and Pike." "Um." I grinned a little, I couldn´t help it. "And what exactly?" "What did I miss?" A beaming Tilly swung back on her chair, reached close to her glass and took a sip with soul. "You were right, he is really cute." Then she looked around. "What's going on here?" "We're just trying to pull Cathrin out of her nose, what about her and Pike." Michael cocked her head slightly. "And right now she's trying to pull herself out of the affair." "Ohh no, no, you will not." Tilly raised her finger and moved him back and forth. "Get out of it."

"My dears, that was even more unspectacular." "And we shall believe you that?" Detmer pulled a pout. "I was scared every time you got together on the bridge, the sparks between you, set something on fire." "That's why we don´t really take it from you." I sighed loudly. "You will be disappointed, believe me." "Rubbish." Tilly grinned at me. "Don´t say later, I wouldn´t have warned you." I looked at them all. "We met just once, there he had asked me out on a date and said goodbye with a short kiss." "Ohh." Owo started to interject, but I raised my hand.

"I'll interrupt you." I gave her a crooked look. "He canceled then, in an incredibly sweet way, but still." "Did he say why?" "The spaceship with over two hundred people on board could have been a good reason." I raised an eyebrow. "After that, I saw him only a few times in passing and that the story." "Wow, I was just more successful." Tillys face twisted into a crooked smile. "But just now, you kissed him." "Yeah, but that's it."

"Why are you here?" Michael stirred in her glass. "And not with him?" "Because he has the dazzling pleasure of attending a high command meeting." "Saru mentioned something like that." Tilly looked around for a moment, then waved to her flirtatiousness. "Oh, yes." Detmer rolled his eyes. "Starfleet loses no time." "Are you actually recorded now?" Owo leaned back in her play. "Yes, initially my training is still with Dr. Boyd, then I have to go for about four weeks for a couple of courses, the shuttle license, and the final exam. " "Hey, I have to come here soon, maybe we can do it, that we can share a room!" "That sounds great!" That lifted my mood a lot. "I think that whole should be like this in two months. How are you? " "A research mission, if I still know it." Michael's face revealed that she had to think about it for a moment. "Saru will know more later."

 Detmer and Owo exchanged a look. "We'll be fine for today, girls." We stood up for a moment, hugging each other before they said goodbye and we sat down again. "I'll take a break." I pulled on my straw again. "I still don´t know what tomorrow's going to do, but the day after tomorrow I have to get to a ball and I'll have to get dress for that."

"Oh, the Enterprise Ball." Tilly sighed. "Has one of you been to such an event ever?" "Sorry, too young." Tilly grinned a little dazed. "I've been to something like that, Sarek has been invited to diplomatic receptions more often, but I think that's not comparable." "Which brings me to where I was before. When are you going to break up here?" "Tomorrow morning, if it's not changed." Burnham stood up and together with Tilly we left the bar. Outside, the air was fresh, I pushed the ocean, but it was still beautiful. "Well then, it's time to say goodbye again." "But not for long." Tilly hugged me and I repeated it to Burnham. "And we'll see each other soon, too." She smiled at me. "Look at this time." "Who would have thought that?" I returned it, then stepped back as the two started the Discovery and were beamed up a few seconds later. Here I was, on the forecourt of Starfleet HQ, feeling a bit alone despite the crowd. The building was stunning, I wondered if Christopher was still in there. Many windows were still lit, as were the large rooms on the upper floors. I was tired and yet something was holding me here. I wouldn´t be able to wait here until he came out, who knows when that would be. That reminded me of something that had come to my mind once before, but I'd have to make one, two preparations for that. I smiled slightly, then I pulled out my communicator.

"Zimmer to Chief Louvier." It took a moment for me to got an answer. "Oh hello Ms. Zimmer, what can I do for you?" "I hope I don´t disturb you?" "No, no, I'm just getting ready to visit my family." Louvier was a Frenchman, of course, if he left now, he would be in France early in the morning. "How can I help you?" "Is my car still ready to drive?" I avoided a couple who was totally lost in each other. "Of course. It's loaded and ready to go. "He cleared his throat a little. "I was so free to adapt it a little to today's energy standards, but otherwise everything is as usual." "If time permits, we'll make sure you can go for a spin." I grinned widely, Louvier chuckling a little. "But only if you don´t mind." "Thanks Chief, I just wanted to have it okay before I bring it here tomorrow." "Gladly. Do you need a transport? I'm in transporter room 2 right now." "If you have the time, then one to beam." "That's okay." Then the transporter jet enveloped me and carried me to the Enterprise.

 ******

 It was rude and his nature, but he was so longing for his bed that he couldn´t really suppress a yawn, so at least he tried to camouflage it a bit. "I'm afraid she will not finish at all." Number One pushed another cup of coffee towards him. "How long has this been?" "Almost an hour." Pike emphasized every word extra. "She doesn´t even breathe." "I didn´t even see her blinking." Captain Palma introduced himself. "Do you have another in the pot left Commander?" "Here Sir." Number One passed the pot. "Thanks." The Spaniard poured himself, then repeated this to his first officer. "Chris, will we have another drink together later?" "If we still stand upright then, gladly." The captains grinned at each other. "Or how about breakfast? It cannot take that long for the sun to rise. " A loud hawking from Tralaweney's direction silenced them all, then the commander of the Endeavor sat down again. Admiral Thomas straightened up in his chair, he too looked like he would rather be somewhere else. "Alright, thanks Andrea." "Sir."

"Good, now Captain Pike." He turned and Chris sat straight down. "I have less good news for you and a good one." "Let's start with the good, I think we can all use some cheer up." "Your new crew member, Cathrin Zimmer, right?" He looked at the PADD in front of him. "Yes Sir." He felt the tingle start to stir inside him as the admiral mentioned her name. What was she doing right now?

"Her request to join as a federation citizen was granted, it was out of the question anyway, since she is a citizen of the earth, that she is now well over two hundred and fifty years old, is just a curiosity. Thus, she is now officially a member of Starfleet. Admiral Cornwell had already received her informally. " "Thanks Sir." "I'm looking forward to meet her, you don´t meet someone from a different dimension and time every day." "I'm sure you will not regret it." "Let's hope so." The admiral taps the table. "Until tomorrow you should have the official files on the Enterprise, if you would forward her please. "Aye Sir."

"Let's get to the nastier part." The admiral got up and began to walk around. "It has all pretty much hit us that the Enterprise has fallen victim to such a fatal system failure, even though the report of your Chief Engineer expressly states that every mistake has been resolved."

"And I will sign you without any restrictions." Pike followed him with his eyes. "I know." The admiral smiled slightly. "Nevertheless, it has been decided that the upcoming five-year mission will be suspended for now being and replaced by half-yearly, one-month or emergency missions." Pike and Number One exchanged a surprised look, then Pike spoke up. "Sir, please allow me the question why?"

"A pure security measure." Thomas looked at him. "I know you and your crew are still clinging to sit out the war against the Klingons, but you know the reasons now, and I hope you understand it when we first test the Enterprise." "How should I imagine that?" "Don´t worry, you will not bogged down in the dry dock." He gave Pike a reassuring look. "There is plenty to do and explore, even in the areas closer to the Federation space. The orders will be delivered to you, I think you'll find you busy enough and who knows. "He sighed. "Unexpected often comes.” "Yes, Sir." "Good, then that would be clarified." The admiral sat down again. "I'd say we're ending this, it's late, and Enterprise's time here is certainly limited. Enjoy your shore leave and see you the day after tomorrow for your gala. "Then he got up again and everyone followed him this time. "I wish you a nice evening!"

There were replies, then the admirals left the room and the meeting broke up. Pike reached for his cup. "Sir, I say goodbye." Number One nodded to him. "Yes, of course." He smiled at her. "I assume you have a date?" "I let have him been waiting longer than expected, I'm sure my soufflé is now a cake." "I'm sorry." He took a sip. "Not your fault and I'm sure it still tastes wonderful." She looked around for a moment. "What about you?" "What should be with me?" Pike put down the cup and they also left the conference room. "Do you have a date?"

"With whom?" He tried to look as surprised as possible.

"Oh, don´t act like that." Number One gave him one of her unfathomable glances. “You are in love with Cathrin, head over heels! Why else would you have asked her to come with you to the Enterprise? " "I thought I was giving her a chance she didn´t have on Discovery." "That you can tell the Admiral." They left headquarters over the great staircase. "Just the look with which you looked at her today on the bridge was enough to betray you." "Nothing escapes you." Pike stopped as she did. "Chris, honestly, why not? You're in love and I'm very sure she feels the same, you just have to find a way to get together. " "It's not like I have not tried that for several weeks." He smiled at her. "I even asked her for a date and then I had to cancel, there were countless occasions when there was only a blink left and still." Pike spread his hands. "I'll go home alone now and try not to think about what might be."

"And everyone says Boyd is a drama queen." Number One placed a hand on his forearm, only fleetingly, in her case an incredibly warm gesture. "You have the perfect opportunity the day after tomorrow, take advantage of it or you will regret it forever." "Thanks Number One." Then he pointed past her. "You are expected. Good night." "Good night, Captain."

She smiled at him, then went down the last steps to a tall, dark-skinned man, reaching for one hand, then strolling out into the still-busy night of San Francisco. Pike put his head back and looked up at the stars, then sighed. As if enough hadn´t going on in his head. For a moment he thought about spending the night in his house, but finally decided on his bed on the Enterprise. Tomorrow was another day. Barely out of the transporter room he ran into Dr. Boyd arms. The ship's doctor was in a blinding mood despite the late hour. "Captain." He grinned at him, which Chris could only painfully reciprocate. "Are you coming or going?" "I have just come from one, let's call it, exhilarating session and I am on my way to bed. That was the plan anyway. " "Who should stop you?" "You." "Me? No, I'm just passing through. "Boyd raised a finger. "But I wanted to remind you that you should definitely take some rest tomorrow. If possible not on the Enterprise. "He stopped and Pike involuntarily rejoined him. He knew that lecture by heart, but he was sure he would listen to it again. "This old lady will start the day after tomorrow to a new deep space mission." "No, it will not." Chris kept going, he really wanted to go to bed. "What do you mean?" Boyd needed a moment before he processed the information, then went back to the captain.

 "The High Command has decided that at first we will only do short missions, if possible in the Federation space. The memo went out earlier, I think everyone read it till tomorrow." "Oh, what interesting news." The doctor smiled. “That means that Ms. Zimmer could easily take her required courses at the academy. Which, of course, means she has to leave the Enterprise for a short time every now and then. " Chris was glad Boyd couldn´t see him rolling his eyes. As if he hadn´t even thought of it. "I'm sure she'll consider that." He glanced sideways and stopped when he realized where he was. 2518, her quarters.

"She's not there." Boyd was standing right next to him when he looked at him, he smiled at him. "She's here somewhere, but not in there." "I was just thinking." "Yes, yes, let it be good Chris." The hand of his chief doctor landed on his shoulder. "I may be old, but I'm not blind." Pike just blamed it on his tiredness that he just didn´t quite come along. "You are in love." "Phil." He looked at him. "Denial useless, believe me." He tapped his hand twice on his shoulder before he rose and pointed at him. "And even though Ms. Zimmer is a truly amazingly talented and capable young woman and it's an incredible honor and pleasure to teach her something, I'm so brave and make the assumption that's not the real reason she's here is." "Did you speak with Number One?" "No, how come? Would she agree with me? "Boyd grinned crookedly. "That would be necessary again."

 Pike closed his eyes and tried hard to get them open again. "I'm going to bed." "Alone?" "Get on someone else's wick." He usually enjoyed the company of Phil Boyd, but he was just too tired for that, and he didn´t want to say anything he later regretted. "Good night Captain!" "Good night Doc!" After a few meters, he reached his quarters, entered and barely through the door, he loosened his collar and pulled on the zipper of the jacket.

Four hours!

Four hours and the end of the song was that they had been put on ice. Of course he understood the motives and he advocated them, but he knew that the crew would still be disappointed. But, as the admiral had said, postponing is not suspended and the prospect of one or the other regular service was not the worst.

He slipped out of his jacket, followed by the shoes, then dropped to the couch and leaned his head back, allowing himself for a few minutes to enjoy the silence that surrounded him. When he raised his head again, his gaze fell on the music file Cathrin had given him. Smiling, he reached for the piece of technology and turned it between his fingers. He had only managed to listen to a fraction of the songs on it. For some she had written short notes, not nearly all. Pike swung his legs off the couch, put the carrier on a console, and the computer called up the files.

"Computer music."

Chris made his way to his bathroom, undressed and stepped under the shower, then got dressed and dropped to his bed halfway relaxed. Had he guessed that Cathrin was not ten yards away, also lying on her bed and listening to exactly this piece, he wouldn´t have fallen asleep so fast.

Masterlist

[fieryvanguard]

👫 for Sau!

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’srelationship

@vonlived

Yata’s slowly growing more physically comfortable with Saruhiko again. Before the HOMRA days, I actually picture him having been quite physical with Saru, like leaning against him, throwing an arm around him, or even falling asleep together while sharing a bed, no big deal. After they have reconciled, the trust and comfort had to be build up again first, and now mixed with the romantic feelings, Yata’s sometimes a little awkward or uncertain, but he’s getting better at it. He wants to be with and close to Saruhiko after all, and also wants to show it.

He wants to work on understanding Saruhiko better. He’s painfully aware he’s an idiot and sucks at taking hints - that’s something that hasn’t changed in all these years - but he doesn’t wanna let things go that far again and have Saruhiko leave once more. Yata will try to be more vocal, and ask if he feels something might be off. Saruhiko is way too important and precious to lose a second time, so he’d put in that extra effort.

Despite still not being the biggest fan of Scepter 4, he sometimes shows up there to either visit Saruhiko (and make sure he’s eating something healthy), or pick him up for dates/to hang out. At first, he only waited outside, at the gate, but later was also allowed to come inside thanks Reisi. Ends up befriending Domyoji and Hidaka (much to Saru’s displeasure).

Yata has lowkey considered moving together with Saruhiko again, just a passing thought since what’s between them is still fairly fragile, and he knows Saru lives at Scepter 4 now. But he can’t help but miss those times they’ve shared together in their small apartment, and misses having Saruhiko around for more than just a few hours every few days.

[depressedkakashihatake]

@startreksecretsanta for @that-one-curly-haired-chick

Pairing: Michael/Tilly

Subject: Michael and Tilly go to Vulcan for hanukkah and Tilly meets Michael’s adoptive parents.

Word count: 3361

       Vacations were supposed to be relaxing. A time to sit back and unwind, forget the stresses of the universe and spend time with those that you loved. That is what a vacation was supposed to be.

   Instead, Michael found herself standing in a line up that seemed to never end, the check in desks just barely in sight past all of the starfleet officers, traders, and vacationers who were trying to reach the same destination as her.

    The other side of those stupid check in booths.

  An elbow bumped her in the side, pulling her attention away from the annoying situation in front of her and towards the cheerful smile plastered on her girlfriends face.

     “You’re being grumpy.” Michael still wasn't exactly sure how Tilly always seemed to know her emotional state, thought it must have been easier to see when you grew up around openly emotional people. “come on Michael, we're here to have fun. Loosen up a bit.”

       Michael stumbled a bit when tilly gave her a playful hip bump. Her way of trying to get Michael to smile, and admittedly a pretty effective method.

      It was nice, being with someone who wanted nothing more than to see her smile. Someone who actually wanted her to express her emotions instead of suppressing them.

       She gave her head a shake. “I just don't like standing in line waiting for the clearance to go home.” she admitted with a sigh “I go through this every year to be home for hanukkah, and every year it's just as congested, loud and slow. You'd think the federation would have fixed this by now so that it didn't take hours to get through.”

       “It’s hard to adjust for a sudden influx of people travelling to a single destination.” argued tilly, her hand rubbing Michael's back in an attempt to calm her girlfriend “besides, you said your father was coming to pick us up. I don't think he'd like seeing you walk through those doors to see you upset and aggravated.”

      Michael groaned when a picture of Sarek disappointed face flashed through her mind. He always made it a big deal when he saw her letting her emotions get the best of her. She was supposed to be controlled and focused, not annoyed and close to snapping at the next person to brushed up against her.

        Tilly was right and there was no arguing with the fact. It was better to just relax and wait out the line. Besides, it was one of the few chances she was going to get to be affectionate in public, and she shouldn't be wasting it.

     Unfolding her arms, she reached out and slipped her left arm around Tilley’s waist and gave her girlfriend a gentle tug. After that, tilly fell against her side with ease, laughter filling then air as she wrapped her arms around Michael's waist and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. “hello to you too.”

        This vacation was going to be perfect, and a stupid line up wasn't going to ruin it.

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

       It was funny. Michael thought she had been annoyed and uncomfortable waiting in line for two hours to get onto Vulcan, but as soon as they had been approved and let through, Tilly had grabbed her hand and dragged her through the exit doors with the unstoppable force of a terrified gorn.

        And she was never going to let Saru know that the thought had crossed her mind.

      “freedom!” Tilly threw her arms up In triumph, beaming over at Michael while everyone else made their way around them. It was hard not to notice all of the stairs her girlfriend was getting, especially from a small family of Vulcans who happened to be passing by when Tilly wrapped her arms around Michael's neck and kissed the daylights out of her.

       Michael would be lying if she said she wasn't a little embarrassed by her girlfriend, but at the same time it was hard to be mad when she was being kissed so powerfully.

      “I see public affection is not an issue for you two.” the slight amusement in Sarek voice would be missed by anyone else, but Michael knew him to well. She also knew exactly how him and Amanda were in private, and she had no hopes of ever being that embarrassing and adorable with Tilly.

       Tilly, however, seemed sufficiently embarrassed by the sudden intrusion on their moment of victory, and Michael had little warning before she found herself being pushed back while tilly covered her mouth and looked at the Vulcan ambassador in horror.

        “I apologize for the delay in our arrival.” Michael stated, turning to face her father fully and smiling slightly when he held up two fingers towards her. It was second nature, reaching out to meet his gesture, and the sudden influx of relief and warm washed over her when she pressed her fingers against his. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how much Sarek cared about her. He hid it so well in public, and it didn't help that his actions weren't always those of a caring father.

       “Amanda is waiting for our arrival back at the house.” there never was any pointless banter when it came to Sarek. “She is looking forward to baking with you both tonight.”

       “i assume Spock will choose to forgo baking again in favour of studying?” inquired Michael, frowning when Sarek diverted his eyes “he’s not coming home?”

       “Spock has decided to stay on the enterprise for the holidays this year.” Sarek explained “a logical choice, as it is a human holiday.”

       “A human holiday that is part of his own history.” argued Michael “he may be vulcan, but ethnically he is also jewish. Not being here with his family is not the logical thing to do. He just doesn't want to risk another argument with you.”

     “Spock has his reasons for the choices he makes and we must respect them.”  Sarek stated, his eyes meeting with Michael's once more. He was still embarrassed by the situation, and Michael could only imagine how upset amanda was about the whole thing. Sarek had probably heard about it non stop since Spock gave them the news. She didn't need to add to his personal shame when it came to his relationship with his son.

        Thankfully, Tilly always seemed to know when to insert herself into a conversation. “Well, if your brother isn't here to play party pooper I can pick up some of the slack for him.” ok, maybe she didn't know exactly how to make the conversation better, but at least she tried. Michael appreciated the effort.

        Sarek seemed to appreciate the effort as well. For the first time since their arrival, Michael saw his shoulders relaxing and his hands falling to his side instead of staying clasped behind his back. It was a rare sight, especially if amanda wasn't around.

    “We can continue our conversation at the house.” he promised “Amanda will want to hear about your latest adventures. And she is...excited, to meet your mate.”

      Michael could feel the heat rising up in her cheeks. How could Sarek make one word so embarrassing?

        “Mate?” and of course, tilly was going to find a way to make it worse. “is that how vulcans refer to their partners?”

       “it is.” Sarek nodded “Michael has explained her relationship with you and it has the same devotion and care as any vulcan marriage. Thought you two are not yet wed…”

       “Ok!” Michael clapped her hands together, breaking up the conversation before it could get any worse. She was not ready for this type of conversation yet, not with Sarek. “we.. should get going. Amanda doesn't need to be kept waiting.”

        “Alright.” the embarrassment only got worse when Tilly stepped up the into her space and pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek. “let's get going, mate.”

         This time, Michael wasn't sure how exactly how to feel about the use of such a private and important word. She was still embarrassed, especially when she noticed Sarek raising an eyebrow, this time with a glimmer of amusement tucked away deep inside of those soft eyes. On the other hand, she felt warm. Sure, mate wasn't exactly how most humans referred to their partner, but Michael wasn't most humans. She was raised on vulcan, with vulcan beliefs and ideals, and it made her feel amazing knowing that Tilly recognized and respected that on some level.

         There were no more words after that. There didn't need to be. Sarek simply took a step back and waited for Michael to claim her place by his side, Tilly standing off to her right so that Michael was situated between them as they started to make their way towards the exit.

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

    Michael had forgotten how warm and kind Sarek could be. It was, admittedly, an easy thing to forget sometimes, the way he held himself in public and how he restricted their relationship in front of others. Sometimes it felt like she was no more than some kid he had taken in when her parents died.

        But the ride to the house had reminded her just how deeply he really did care. Not for one second did he let Tilly believe his relationship with his kids wasn't important, and Michael couldn't help but smile a little as he told her girlfriend stories about her and Spock getting into trouble while they were growing up. Sarek rarely opened up to anyone, and it took Tilly two minutes to get him to let his guards down and tell her family stories, it was amazing.

      “Wait,” Tilly slapped her in the shoulder gently, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to the current story “you gave your vulcan brother chocolate? On purpose?”

     “Spock is half human.” she defended herself “there was no guarantee he would have the same effect as his father. Besides, he wouldn't stop asking to try my cupcake.”

      “i find it difficult to believe that my son would do something so…”

 “illogical?” Michael beamed when her father narrowed his eyes towards her “Spock isn't always the most logical being. Sometimes he's more, human.”

     “Out of all of my children, Spock is the least human.” argued Sarek “with you as a close second.”

     That familiar warm feeling washed over Michael once again. Sarek was never obligated to view her the same as Spock and Sybok. She wasn't his biological child, but he always found a way to remind her that she was no less important or valued. He was far from the perfect father, but she did appreciate the effort he put in to being a just and kind father sometimes. .

     “Is this it?” they both turned towards Tilly, raising an eyebrow when they saw her half hanging out of the shuttle looking at the house that they had stopped beside. “oh, please tell me that's your mom Michael. She's beautiful.”

      Leaning forward, Michael peered through the small space left between her girlfriend and the end of the window, a smile pulling at her lips when she saw Amanda waving at them from the front garden.

        “We're here.” The words were soft, which would be a surprise for anyone who didn't know the man who had spoken them. Michael, however, knew without a doubt that Amanda was a soft spot for Sarek. He adored her in every way and he had no issue showing it around family and friends.

       Of course, when it came to other vulcans he closed himself off. Michael knew the xenophobia he faced over his choices in regards to his human family members. She had seen it in his memories, and it made her hate everyone who had the audacity to look down on any of them. To think they weren't good enough just because of their human DNA.

      She gave her head a shake. There was no point dwelling on the past. She was here for her family, no one else. She couldn't let some judgemental ass holes ruin her vacation, especially when she still had to properly introduce Tilly to everyone.

      The door opened in front of them, allowing Tilly to hop out. Once she had her feet on the ground, she turned around with a bright smile and held out a hand for michael. “such a romantic.” she joked, reaching out to take Tilley’s hand and pulling herself out of the shuttle.

      Sarek waited for them both to find their way out of the vehicle before he finally grabbed hold of the side and hoisted himself up. As soon as he had his feet on the ground, he was gone from their side.

    “You dad is weird.” She glanced over at Tilly, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriends comment “i mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s super sweet and his stories are pretty amazing, but he’s just so…distant.” It was funny. Michael used to think the same way Tilly does, back before Sarek took her in. When her parents were still alive. Now though, she knew a lot better.

    “It’s because we’re in public.” She explained, wrapping an arm around Tilly’s waste and watching as Sarek and Amanda greeted each other with a tender touch of two fingers. “Sarek is...he’s complicated. He’s sweet but also strict, and that strictness comes from being not only Vulcan, but the Vulcan ambassador. He is the face of all of Vulcan when he’s in public. If he makes one misstep, he’s screwed.”

    “So…” Tilly glanced over at her, a soft smile on her face “How much shit was he in for marrying a human?”

       Michael chuckled “I think that's a question best saved for Amanda.” she admitted.

  Tilly grabbed hold of her arm “let's go then.” she insisted, pulling Michael behind her as she made her way towards the house.

This week off was going to be fantastic, Michael could already tell.

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

      With a warm cup of tea in hand, Michael made her way into the living room where she had left Tilly and her parents not too long ago, hoping that it would be safe to leave her chatty girlfriend with the people who had raised and helped mold her.

    She was wrong.

       She was so very wrong.

 “And then Michael jumped off the side of the cliff after Doctor Culber.” Michael's face paled. Of all the stories Tilly could choose, she went with that one?

    Amanda was going to kill her. Maybe, just maybe she could slip out before…

   “Michael Burnham!” god, that woman's ‘motherly senses’ were way too good for Michael's health “How many times have i told you not to do stupid things?”

      “i don't think you can get worse than ‘start a war with the Klingon empire accidently and mutiny against your Captain’” Michael grumbled under her breath, wincing when Amanda turned her head to glare at her. “come on, I wasn't going to let the doctor fall to his death. Paul would have killed me if I came back to the ship without his boyfriend.”

        “there are more logical ways to protect those we care about.” Sarek pointed out.

     “Yes, i’m definitely going to follow your advice after the ‘starfleet vs the vulcan science academy’ debacle.” she huffed, a smirk pulling at her lips when Sarek diverted his eyes. “anyways, I'm sure there are better stories to tell.”

    Tilly, for her part, had the decency to look embarrassed for her mistake.

     “well, how about…” The ensign thought about her options for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in her mind (at least, that's the only reason Michael could think of for the thoughtful look that appeared on her girlfriends face.) “well, I don't really know much about you other than what I've seen on the ship. You rarely ever talk about yourself or your family except little tidbits here and there.”

        “That would be Sarek’s fault.” Amanda chuckled when her husband narrowed his eyes towards her “Vulcans are very private In a lot of ways and he was always trying to teach Michael to be more vulcan.”

    “Well, if you don't mind me saying, I kind of like it.” Michael looked away, embarrassed by her girlfriends comment “Michael is an interesting mix of Vulcan ideals and human emotions. It's kind of cool and shows just how much we could still learn from each other.”

        “Well, I'm glad she held onto those emotions,” This time when Amanda looked back at her, it was with a warm smile. “even of Sarek tried to train them out of you.”

      Rolling her eyes, Michael made her way over to the couch that Tilly had claimed for them and carefully took her seat beside her girlfriend. “It’s better to make your way through life with a logical mind.” she quoted her father “but it's also fun to smile once in a while.”

       “Well, I hope the ambassador realizes how much he has influenced you, in positive ways I mean.” Tilly smiled over at the Vulcan “Michael may not be your biological child, but she’s a lot like you, sir.”

     Sarek seemed confused by the comment, his brows drawing together as he tried to process what Tilly had said.

      Amanda chuckled when she saw the look on her husband's face “it’s a complement Darling.” she stated, reaching out to place also hand over his “sometimes people give you those.”

      “My parenting skills have, admittedly, not been an area i receive many complements in.” Sarek sighed “Spock himself has made more than a few negative observations about my skills as a father.”

     “Well, if you cut him a break on the whole ‘joining starfleet’ thing he might realize you're not so bad.” argued Michael.

      “Spock had a promising future at the vulcan Science academy.” Argued Sarek.

      “And I didn't?” Michael watched as the older Vulcan lowered his eyes “ya, that's what I thought. Spock made his choice and he's good in Starfleet. You should be proud of him.”

    “I never said I was not proud of my son” Sarek stated. “if anyone thinks that, they are mistaken.”

   “Well…” Michael leaned back into the couch, smiling when Tilly moved a little closer and placed a hand on her knee “I think it would help your relationship a lot if he heard that from you.”

      At that point, Sarek went quiet. Michael couldn't tell if he was trying to process what she had said, or trying to find an argument against telling his son he was proud. She could only watch in amusement as he looked over at his wife for guidance.

    “we'll talk about it later.” Amanda promised, placing a hand over her husbands in reassurance. “for now, we have family visiting and we've barely talked about Tilly.”

   “oh, there's no need to talk about me yet.” Tilly promised “There’s not much to learn. My life was pretty straight forward and boring until I met Michael. Besides, I've told her everything about me and she has told me absolutely nothing.”

        “Embarrassed to talk about us Michael?” joked Amanda.

   “Stories can never do justice to the real thing.” Michael quoted an old saying she remembered from her childhood, frowning when she saw the way Amanda's face softened at her words. “what?”

     “Your mom used to say that all the time.” Amanda mused.

   Tilly slapped a hand over Michael's mouth when she attempted to respond. “Her mom? As in her biological mom? Oh please tell me there are stories.” Michael rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to deny the fact that she would love to hear stories about her biological parents. Amanda and Sarek always had great she movies about them. Tilly’s enthusiasm was just...a little over the top.

            “Well, in that case.” she groaned, reaching up to remove Tilly’s hand from her mouth as Amanda got ready for story time. “how about the day Atiena decided to show Sarek and Sybok how to bond by taking them rock climbing with her and michael?”

     Tilly squealed, slapping Michael in the arm as she tried to contain at least a small portion of her excitement. Beside Amanda, Sarek rolled his eyes.

    This was going to be fun.

[sparklyjojos]

[THE CHILDISH DARKNESS Recaps, Chapters 3-5]

[tw: self-harm, rape, gore, mentions of underage sex, a dog is killed]

---

THREE

Yurio didn’t want to come to Hashimoto’s funeral, instead opting to watch the procession from the town’s library. Saburou barely managed to keep her from jumping through the window in despair and withstood the kicking and biting that followed. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,” he chanted both to calm her down and to show forgiveness.

Yurio, now staying in the Natsukawa house, had a tendency to self-harm. Her arms were covered in scars, and she still had a bit of pencil lead stuck in her neck where she had stabbed herself once. Shirou and his girlfriend Atena both had medical training, so they helped with patching up her wounds, and Shirou took it upon himself to get the girl proper therapy. The therapy at first just shifted her behaviour from self-harm to rage against others. Sometimes she’d blame Saburou for not letting her die, sometimes yelled at him to go die already.

One night Saburou awoke to see Yurio standing by his bed with a knife, but after a tense moment she broke down, crawled into the bed and hugged him.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,” he chanted again, unsure what else to do other than to let her fall asleep next to him.

Yurio disappeared next morning. Saburou found her at the Mouryou Pond, the characteristic round lake in the mountains where they had first met, and finally had a proper conversation about her and Hashimoto.

The two teens had met through an online chat and gravitated towards each other because of their similar alienation from peers, as well as their obsession with UFOs which were said to sometimes appear in Nishi Akatsuki. The teens would sneak out together at night and observe the sky for hours. Even though the only thing they talked about were UFOs, they became an item and even started having sex the previous year (which Saburou was now internally screaming about, because dear God, that’s a 13-year-old with a 16-year-old, and they didn’t even have a connection other than through some fictional nonsense).

Pregnancy happened, but Yurio’s outraged parents quietly got rid of the problem. They didn’t know about Hashimoto and he never learned he could have become a father. The teens continued to meet in secret, sinking further and further into their own world. After the Jawakutora case, Yurio got the idea of using the points of the spiral for a new purpose: creating a letter to the aliens. The image of two people on the plaque made it look almost like she and Hashimoto were the only two people in the entire universe.

Yurio said crying that maybe she’d never actually liked Hashimoto, maybe she’d be fine with anyone else who would stick around her, “I’m sorry, Takeshi, I’m sorry!” Maybe these self-accusations she was repeating to herself were yet another form of self-harm.

Saburou recalled finding Hashimoto’s body. Cut off arms, legs, head and trunk strewn on a table in the storehouse of the Nishi Akatsuki middle school. The message left next to it said: DEATH GOD JAWAKUTORA.

--

Yurio continued to act violently towards herself and others to the point Atena and Shirou had problems keeping her in check. She ran away repeatedly, she asked Hashimoto for forgiveness one second and badmouthed him the next, she broke Saburou’s nose with a thrown soda can.

After that last event, Saburou stumbled upon his old friend Sarue Kaede on his way back from the doctor.

“You should put that child in a proper hospital,” Kaede insisted. Saburou thought that it’d be probably the right thing to do, but he wanted to let Yurio live in a normal house.

--

Shirou had kept it secret from others until now, but in the face of the new case he had to voice his suspicions about Jirou being the one responsible for all the Jawakutora attacks, and/or hiding under the name Kawaji Natsurou.

Saburou was skeptical. Kawaji Natsurou didn’t look... wild enough in the photos to be a grown-up Jirou, even if he could have gotten a plastic surgery. However, Kawaji’s personal documents from before he had entered university had all gone missing and nobody knew anything about his family.

Shirou wanted to believe that it meant their formerly violent older brother had turned over a new leaf.

--

One day Yurio ran away somewhere again and couldn’t be found. Saburou returned home exhausted and went to sleep in his mother’s room, which always helped him relax.

This time he couldn’t sleep. He felt a presence outside the room, heard someone’s footsteps approaching closer and then a child sobbing. It wasn’t Yurio.

A small girl was crying right by his bed, her hair cut in traditional okappa style, her ghostly face completely white. She gave petrified Saburou a look as if she knew him, then turned back and left the bedroom.

Trying to follow her weeping, Saburou went downstairs to the kitchen, opened the trapdoor to the underground food storage, and found Yurio sleeping there.

--

Later that night, Saburou had a strange dream. Above the Mouryou Pond hovered a big glass box containing Kawaji Natsurou, or maybe Jirou. The man kept calling Saburou ‘Clarice’ and eventually turned into Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter, reciting his lines from the book Hannibal. Saburou answered with the appropriate line of Clarice Starling.

It may look like I’m closed in this glass case, Jirou / Hopkins / Hannibal said, but depending on your viewpoint, the glass case is simultaneously closing in the rest of the world, including you.You can’t tell which side of the glass is “inside” and which one is “outside”.

Then came the last scene from Hannibal -- with Krendler duct-taped to a chair, about to have his brain eaten -- except the person in the chair was another Saburou.

Would you like to say grace before our meal, Mr. Krendler?

When Saburou woke up in the still dark room, somehow he still felt trapped by a glass box without an inside or an outside.

 ----

FOUR

Maybe it never reached the extent of Jirou’s crimes, but Saburou also did some horrible things in his life.

In the last year of middle school his teacher Ms. Yoshida got married to another teacher, Mr. Kumono. Maybe precisely because of this fact Saburou got interested, planned carefully for some time on how to corner the prey in a vulnerable moment, and smoothly reenacted the plan to initiate sex with her. Then with help of his three friends (Fujita, Kato and Nakayama) Saburou beat up Mr. Kumono, tied him up in the basement and told him in details about the sex with Yoshida, all of which culminated in Saburou raping the woman in front of her husband and wondering why on earth his three friends were sobbing all he while.

It’s like there was some sadistic snake coiling inside him, always ready to hurt other people for no reason. He always intentionally chose to sleep with girlfriends and wives of his friends (including Fujita, Kato and Nakayama).

Was there really a difference between people and animals, considering how much libido could drive them?

The Fujitas had a black dog called Makki that was quite active in terms of attempting procreation. Saburou took this dog into the mountains, killed it with a knife, cut off its genitalia, and buried the body. Why did he feel the need to do that? Maybe he was projecting himself onto the dog, so the one he really wanted to kill was himself, he wasn’t sure.

Could one simultanously love and hate himself? Was it love or hate he felt towards his brothers and parents, his friends and their girlfriends?

Kaede always told him that he was stuck ‘trying out’ this whole relationship thing while not wanting to commit -- maybe because he didn’t believe he was capable of love -- and that he should try to meet a decent single woman, and was his relationship misshaps really that different than what was between his parents?

--

When he was nine, Saburou would sometimes sleep in one bed with his mother. Sometimes when she seemed sad, she’d embrace him and say: you’re the only one mom loves in this family, not dad or Ichirou or Jirou or Shirou, and you only love mom too, right? He would start falling asleep in the comfortable darkness, and she would say: never go away from me. But she didn’t really say anything when he grew up and left for university.

--

Kaede was having a streak of unsuccessful relationships and often meeting Saburou for drinks. He told her that she should be looking for a honest, loyal and benevolent man instead of all these idiots. She proposed dating each other, but Saburou just spouted the same advice, and they exchanged friendly drunk banter like usual.

--

One time in the hospital, Saburou was lying next to his still comatose mother and thinking.

She had been almost lost and brought back to life by doctors 37 times already. Maybe they should let her pass away? But Saburou knew he could never do it. He wanted to hear her voice again. He had crawled into her hospital bed to feel a little of that nostalgic safety.

At this moment he got a call from Yurio, who joked that he shouldn’t try to molest his own mother, and Saburou actually got aroused at the prospect.

A little later Shirou called Saburou to tell him about a new murder (and scolded him for using a cell phone inside a hospital, so Saburou had to leave the building). The case that had started with Hashimoto’s death claimed a few other victims: a man impaled on a stake driven from his mouth to bottom, and two people found in a condition suggesting they were repeatedly thrown to the ground from somewhere high up. The bodies were all found near elementary schools in nearby towns. The same was true about the newest case, with the victim having all his bones broken. Shirou asked Saburou to look into the possibility of the murders being related to old execution methods.

Saburou returned to the hospital room and discovered that his mother had suddenly disappeared. Nobody saw her leave, even if the nurses arrived to the room immediately after the alarm went off. Even a thourough search didn’t help. A true locked room situation.

While Saburou knew he didn’t have anything resembling Shirou’s detective talent, he forced himself to think.

There had been a moment in which he went to buy a newspaper, then returned to his mother’s room for just a brief moment before Shirou yelled at him to please get outside with the phone. In that brief moment, his mother’s face seemed younger than it should. When everybody was frantically searching for her later, Saburou briefly spotted Yurio in the crowd, but it didn’t really register until now.

Yurio and his mother had switched places, allowing the latter to escape.

He found Yurio on the roof, still in white patient clothes. She explained that Mrs. Natsukawa had woken up last night and asked for help in escaping somewhere where no one would find her. They spoke very briefly, but Mrs. Natsukawa said she’s leaving Saburou in Yurio’s hands, and that Saburou was a little strange, but a good child.

-----

FIVE

When the Natsukawa brothers were children, on winter nights they would gather around their mother and ask for stories about her and their father’s younger years. One of the stories felt different than others and went like this.

--

There was once a girl taking a bath alone. She walked out to the hallway to turn off the light before returning to the bathtub, first putting a hand in to make sure no monster was lurking underneath the surface.

The world outside the window was completely dark and seemingly connected into one being with the darkness inside, enveloping and beckoning her. The girl liked the feeling of calm it brought. It felt like her skin was no longer a barrier of her existence, as if she was a part of the darkness, as if the darkness was her true self. She would hold her breath underwater as long as she could until she could hear the heartbeat pounding in her ears. The sound of her own life.

Around that time, the girl was in love with old jazz the likes of Coleman Hawkins, and liked to listen to Buck Clayton’s trumpet the most. No other music captivated her that much. People around her couldn’t really understand her love. Even her jazz loving boyfriend who seemed to like it didn’t understand it like she did.

One Christmas Eve, the girl and her boyfriend were walking through a dark city when a black high-end car stopped nearby and an unusually tall man was forcibly pushed outside. The man was half-naked, his shivering body covered in countless scars. A woman in the car threw the rest of his clothes on the wet ground, which he picked up only after she disappeared in the distance. The man then left for the nearest phone booth.

Before the girl could realize, she had already walked away from her boyfriend towards this man. She managed to catch his name and address from the phone call. When the boyfriend tried to pull her away, she let go of him again.

Something had changed within her the instant she’d noticed that mysterious man’s scars. It’s not that she suddenly fell in love. She couldn’t quite explain the change to her boyfriend.

That evening, when she was taking a bath again, she discovered she couldn’t become a part of the darkness anymore. Maybe when she had looked at that man’s scars, she was wounded as well, scarred in some unseen part of herself. She found the man later, and the weird change stopped.

The sound of jazz never returned to her; the sound of Buck Clayton’s trumpet had already been broken.

--

But in reality their mother’s story was much shorter, and talked about how she first saw her future husband on that Christmas Eve, and how she later found him again at a political rally. The children couldn’t really understand everything yet.

It’s a curious thing, she said, how just seeing somebody else’s scars can wound you, how it may change you and make you grow closer with another.

Maybe their father’s scars wounded them and changed them too.

[>>>NEXT>>>]

[sumigakure]

Chase Your Adventures (Face Your Breaking)

To: @fineillsignup

From: @modernart2012

Title: Chase Your Adventures (Face Your Breaking)

Rating: T 

Wordcount: 9178

Prompt: “At some point in the Chuunin Exams arc (post-Forest of Death, but pre-Tsunade’s arrival) Sakura travels back in time to Kakashi’s attempt to rescue jinchuuriki Rin. She’s not much good fighting at that point but her sudden appearance causes enough confusion to allow a few crucial seconds such that Obito arrives while Rin is alive. And then…? Bonus for: 13 y/o Kakashi being a better teacher than 26 y/o Kakashi.”

Warning: Description of disorientation starting at “Sakura jackknifes upright” and ends at “and Genma”. It reads like a panic attack, but is disorientation due to [spoiler]. Please be mindful of Your own triggers and skip if necessary.

Note: Title from Nikita Gil’s “Ariel’s Return to the Sea and Her Throne”. Whole poem [Here]

There’s nothing so disappointing as finding out that everything you once knew about yourself was nothing more than an empty title - a big fish in a small pond is nothing more than shark bait in the ocean after all, and only those who start to become sharks in their own right survive. Sakura isn’t sure how many more times her pride can handle having that fact hammered in - no, not her pride, because her pride as a kunoichi of Konoha is something she’d thrown away when she’d stagnated and become complacent in her frankly mediocre abilities. She’s faced that fact time and again, on the Great Naruto bridge with Tazuna and again in the Forest of Death, and she’s sick of being the weakest link. She is going to become stronger, so much stronger, until she is a powerhouse in her own right, and could stand at her teammates sides as an equal. They were already so far ahead of her.

But that meant she has to get better, get better fast. With not a lot of time or chakra at her disposal, at least for now. Sakura knows there’s only one thing she can turn to at a time like this, waiting for the end of the second stage of the Chuunin Exams and facing a tournament against far more powerful opponents - the library. Supposedly, the one in the middle of the Forest of Death is full of all the super-special jutsu and books - stuff from the Sannin and the Yondaime and Nidaime and a good portion of tracts and items salvaged from Uzushio when it fell, and it’s as good a place to find a special hidden trick as the regular ninja library every genin has access to. Better even, for the difficulty in getting there.

The instructors at the Academy had always noted her fine chakra control and said she could be a fine genjutsu mistress if she applied herself - a place to to start, if nothing else. If she could even get into the archives, at least. It wasn’t going to be easy, but being on a team with Naruto had some perks, and one is traps. Building, detection, dismantling - Sakura was sure she had the basics from just watching Naruto. If Sakura wasn’t sure that all the adults were busy chasing down the crazy Snake lady -guy? - person or trying to heal Sasuke, she wouldn’t even be contemplating trying to get past the crazy layers of traps and bombs and seals around what (she hopes) is the archive. So many things could go wrong - fail to disarm a trap correctly, or jostle a bomb, set off an alarm, trigger a seal, hell, Sakura couldn’t even tell if she was looking at the entrance to the archive - it could be a random room dressed up to be a “secure vault” and in fact be a massive trap. Inner seethes in her mind, itching to just brute force her way through, but Sakura is sure that wouldn’t end well. But that’s what the Academy said waiting and planning is for on a mission, and Sakura is willing to stake her life on that advice.

She inhales deeply and holds her panicked breath to avoid giving herself away as the chuunin pair stroll past casually - they’ve been patrolling the same route for the last hour, with some variations at random, and once they turned the corner she knows she has precisely 30 minutes to get inside the door. It’s now or never. It’s time to execute the carefully synthesized plan she’s been working on for hours now, mostly necessitating contortions and gymnastics she hasn’t actually used in … in too long. It aches to think about, how she was once the most flexible in the class and able to pick her way through a tight maze of ninja wire with little difficulty, but now has to exert true effort on gaps that are bigger than what she could once get through. She has to bite her lip to keep from audibly seething - there’s no point, not when she stands to gain more by controlling her anger now. Inner rages at her enough anyways. She carefully undoes the traps, and sets them back to standby after she’s passed by - half way there, now to a careful set of hand signs - tora, ushi, saru, ne, tori, mi - then carefully peel back the paperbomb seal and wriggle through the small opening into the space behind the door. She’s just closing the door when she hears the footsteps of the chuunin guards coming back. A close call, but that nets her next to nothing since Sakura is now faced with hundreds of texts and scrolls, most of which are haphazardly piled and all unlabeled. Inner rages as she takes it all in, the heaps upon mounds of things cluttering the space - how is Sakura supposed to get through even a fraction of this information, or find anything? She can’t even see the tops of the shelves, they go up so far into the gloom, and the counters are littered with things and paper. Sakura bites down the urge to yell and tear this place to shreds, mostly because she needs to aim for stealth at the moment, and instead beelines for the closest pile.

Sakura skims through what’s been left open - intense sealing theory, worth a deeper perusal since  sealing is a skill that can be built up, and there frankly aren’t a lot of people who know much of it or how to counter it. Not as immediately useful as genjutsu would be, but still. Sakura is thinking long term too, and sealing will pay off in spades if she can get a handle on the basics and then master a few high level seals, maybe even make her own. The signature on the bottom reads Minato Namikaze with a few Minato Uzumaki thrown around - Sakura makes a face in horror, the Yondaime had a crush on a Uzumaki? She doesn’t even want to contemplate that. Still, the Yondaime had the Hiraishin - maybe this is a theory scroll on how it works?

She’s nearly done reading the scroll - it looks like an early formulation of the Hiraishin, but one that’s full of amendments and comments in three different handwritings - when she stumbles across something laid out in her path. Sakura startles, her chakra flaring in alarm. Sakura notices a bright purple glow from the ground, and looks down in horror. A seal, neatly drawn out on proper seal paper, one that’s taking her chakra and activating. She opens her mouth to scream -

- And ends up in a battle field. The glade is full of killing intent, masked Kiri nin waiting to ambush two Konoha nin. Sakura can’t see much, she’s too small and falling and she’s flubbed the landing, stumbling to collide with what’s in front of her. There’s a girl, staggering towards her fellow ninja, her Konoha headband clearly marking her as a fellow Konoha kunoichi and there’s a flash of white lightning and chirping, barely missing the kunoichi and burning up the side of Sakura’s hair, over her shoulder and grazing the falling kunoichi. Sakura moves to catch her fellow Konoha kunoichi as she falls, as Sakura falls too; the other girl us overheated and panting, as around them the white-haired ninja slaughters the Kiri ninja around them. Or - no, he’s fainted too. Another ninja, hopefully a friendly one, is slaughtering the Kiri nin with too fast movements that looks like he’s warping about, weapons passing through him entirely, and wood spikes bursting forth to pierce and shred, deep black cloak billowing around him.

“Please, you can’t let them take me back to Konoha.” The girl pants, her purple-marked cheeks flushed, her eyes determined. “The Kiri nin. They put a seal on me, to destroy Konoha. And sealed a bijuu in me. Please, make sure they don’t - .” The girl shudders, then the breath leaves her as she loses consciousness.

Sakura feels like she did when Zabuza attacked on the bridge - useless. Frustration pricks at her eyes, but she hoists up a kunai, even if it’s just lip service in the face of an unknown who Sakura knows can crush her easily. Still, she doesn’t know what makes her say what she does next, “Yes.” The kunoichi is unconscious, it’s not like she can hear Sakura. She knows she has no way of backing up that promise, nothing but her paltry strength and  - and her brains. It’s like a lightbulb in the back of her head; Sakura isn’t known for her intellect for nothing. She scans the clearing - blood, bodies, the fainted white-haired ninja, the ninja in the cloak, the girl with purple face marks, and her. The only one who can possibly be a threat - or at least, is unknown enough to be a threat - is the one in the cloak, who is making his way over with a pronounced limp. A weakness, one Sakura can exploit since she’s still relatively fresh, however outclassed she is.

“Rin!” The cloaked figure croaks, and trips his way over as if he can’t quite believe his eyes - eye. One with a strange Sharingan spinning in it, blood red and not the regular tomoe she’s seen in Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke’s Sharingan, which the sight of has Sakura frozen for a moment before she’s moving on instinct. There are no Uchiha left with a Sharingan besides Sasuke, and only Kakashi-sensei has a Sharingan, but that’s stolen. So this person must have committed a bloodline theft too, and the rules state that must be dealt with by killing the offending ninja. Her kunai is up and ready, and the man - no boy - slows and throws his hands up, ready to fight. “Get away from her!” Woody branches lash out but Sakura moves too, punching the wood with all her strength, all Inner’s rage - damn it! - more evidence he’s not a real Uchiha, who’s ever heard of an Uchiha with Wood Release? - and amazingly, the wood shatters. Sakura snarls like she saw Pakkun and Kakashi-sensei’s other summons do when she and Sasuke and Naruto and Kakashi-sensei fought Zabuza, like she knows she’s an actual threat, and her kunai flies true.

Or, would have. A three pronged kunai with a seal along the shaft intercepts the kunai Sakura had thrown, both thunking heavily into the ground. Then in a spark of yellow lightning, a roll of thunder and a white cape edged in flames flutters into view. Brilliant yellow hair, blue eyes, it couldn’t be - “Yondaime-sama?!”

That is Minato Namikaze. But he’s dead - has been for over a decade. And - the records - Sakura whirls on her heel. That’s Kakashi-sensei. Younger, missing over half his adult height, exhausted (probably chakra exhaustion, again) but still. Sakura has to stop herself from audibly gasping, because this can only be one of a few possibilities. And none of them are especially good.

The Yondaime smiles, kind yet dangerous at once, “Oh? And you are?”

Her training kicks in, “Sakura Haruno, Genin, Konoha ID Number 012601.” She hopes she didn’t butcher that in her shock.  

“Genin? Where’s your Jounin sensei and the rest of your team?” The Yondaime is still smiling, eyes upturned cheerily. Sakura has the distinct feeling that he’s trying to figure out who would send a genin team on such a dangerous mission - Kakashi-sensei is a genius, higher ranked than genin at least, and he’s exhausted! - and then which Jounin-sensei would be so irresponsible to lose one of their genin.

Still, she doesn’t know if she ought to tell them the truth - there are entire paradoxes about this afterall. Sakura hedges with a half truth. “I don’t know.” It’s true, since she doesn’t actually know where they are at present, since this could be a different timeline and/or universe, or just plain time travel. She pauses and looks down at the brown haired girl, then back at the Yondaime. Sakura can trust the Hokage, right? He would’ve been her Hokage if he hadn’t died in the kyuubi attack. “The girl, she’s fainted. She said the Kiri nin sealed a bijuu in her, and then did something so she’d destroy Konoha if we took her back there. But, um, seals are something you’re good at right?”

The false Uchiha speaks, aghast, and moves again to get near the girl, “Rin!” This time, Sakura is inclined to let him. If he’s dangerous, the Hokage will handle taking him out.

“Obito?!” The Yellow Flash finally seems to notice the boy in black. So maybe not a fake Uchiha, if the Yondaime knows him.

The boy gives a watery smile, “Hi Minato-sensei.” Oh. Oh.

The Yondaime looks like he’s torn between going and checking over his… student? students? and continuing to keep an eye on Sakura, because her answers have glaring issues and probably make her seem like a spy. His bright blue eyes flick over the scene, and then seem to pause somewhere near Sakura’s feet. Sakura looks down as well, and notices the scrolls that came with her. The Yondaime bends and picks one up, “Oh?” Whatever that particular scroll contains, it seems to be of some interest, as the Yondaime flicks over it a few times enigmatically before closing the scroll.

“Minato-sensei, what are we going to do with the genin?” Kakashi-sensei speaks, clearly not steady on his feet but staying up by sheer force of will and heavy misuse of a tanto. Sakura really hopes he’s not suffering from chakra exhaustion again.

Yondaime-sama thinks it over momentarily, before smiling. Then in a crackle of lightning, three ninja appear. Sakura recognizes them from the Chunin Exams, and her heart sinks. “Iwashi, Raido,” with a tilt of his head, the two peel off and herd Kakashi-sensei, Obito, and Sakura together. It’s not hard to understand they’re all being kept under guard by people who seem to be more competent than their appearances let on - they can use the Hiraishin, or at least a variant, and that’s no small feat. Sakura’s heart sinks; this is probably the fast track for a T&I stay, especially if Sakura is remembering correctly and the one with the scar does work in T&I. “Genma, do you think -?” Whatever Yondaime-sama is noting, it’s not loud enough to be heard over Obito.

“Bakashi.” The boy is wavering, and Kakashi-sensei is struggling to stay upright, even with the tanto as a support. Sakura can see the way their guards eye the pair, disbelief clear in their eyes. “I thought I told you to keep Rin safe.”

Kakashi-sensei fires back almost immediately, uncharacteristic, “Maaa, I thought you were dead.” It doesn’t answer the accusation at all, and Sakura tries to hide a wince at the implication.

“I was nearly crushed to death and held captive, what’s your excuse?” The boy’s snarl is nasty and it somehow reminds Sakura of Naruto and Sasuke. Like a falling star it occurs to Sakura that her teammates don’t exist here, or yet, or are even guaranteed to at all. Tears prick her eyes, but she valiantly holds them back. Kunoichi don’t cry, not on the battlefield. She has to wait until it’s safe to do so, when no one is (obviously) looking. It probably won’t be until people have rifled through her brain, and she’s been thoroughly questioned and examined and if this is the Third Shinobi War then things aren’t going to be good.

“ - it’s your fault bastard!” Obito’s voice is venomous, itching to fight. Kakashi-sensei is very clearly unimpressed, but not about to rise to the bait.

“Obito, Kakashi, I’m going to need your help very shortly.” Yondaime-sama speaks evenly, as if this sort of fighting is normal and expected. The two trot off obediently, and Sakura immediately knows something is wrong.

She raises her hands into the appropriate seal and mutters, “Kai.” The image dissolves, and Sakura is confronted by the face of the Yondaime and his… guards? … all watching her with bland and neutral expressions. Kakashi-sensei is there, sat at the base of a tree, and Obito is slumped nearby as well.

“Well, that was fast.” The one Sakura is pretty sure is Genma comments around his… senbon? Sakura knows the Academy covers not sticking weapons in one’s mouth really early on, and senbon were really high on the list of things to never carry in one’s mouth.

Yondaime-sama smiles that same kind-but-scary smile that doesn’t actually tell you what he’s thinking or feeling. With a sinking sensation, Sakura can understand why he was - is? - considered a master of politics and a genius ninja. The rock in her gut that is her determination to be a great ninja dissolves a little in the face of evidence that someone can be so … so … so ninja, but then hardens again with the resolve to learn the same skills. To smile and have no one understand what you’re really thinking. “Sakura, can you come assist us with something?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama!” Maybe this would help reduce the suspicion against her? Yondaime-sama and Genma kneel down next to the girl - Rin, Sakura probably ought to use her name - and Sakura follows suit.

“The enemy’s put a highly unstable seal around Rin’s heart - one that can’t be destroyed without destroying the heart of the victim. We need someone with very nuanced chakra control to weave their chakra under the seal and lift it up off of her heart, just enough that one of us can go in and strike it to remove it.” It is abundantly clear what Yondaime-sama and Genma expect her part in this to be, and Sakura wants to refuse. She’s not a medic nin who is trained and capable of such feats! But, it’s true her chakra control is exceptionally fine, and probably on the Yondaime has the control to strike just the seal and not kill his student by accident. Genma is probably the one taking over as stand-in medic.

She has to ask anyways, “Is there no way to put a stasis seal around the one on Rin’s heart? So it keeps thinking it’s in one place and not near Konoha?” Even as she says it, she knows it won’t work - stasis seals keep things preserved, but only items that can be completely encased in the seal matrix. Keeping Rin’s heart in stasis would kill her. And keeping Rin entirely in stasis until they got to safety would be counterproductive; they couldn’t remove her without the seal activating.

The Yondaime and Genma hesitate, exchanging speaking glances. “There is another way, but I’m  not sure it’s any easier - it’s only theory to me at this point.” Sakura says nothing, waiting. “Theoretically, you could burn off the seal with a very fine application of chakra. Or rather, to mesh one’s own chakra into the seal and use it as a conduit to destroy the seal with a tertiary chakra source.”

Hell no! Is such a thing even possible? Inner curses the air blue, this is the sort of thing that Tsunade of the Sannin could do with half a thought, not a genin 6 months out of the Academy! There’s no way Sakura, pitiful Sakura with her small reserves and lack of strength can do this! Shodaime’s balls, what was Yondaime-sama thinking! But Sakura can’t say that, she can’t. Instead she thinks hard and announces resolutely, “I’ll need to practice first. And get to know Rin’s chakra.”

Yondaime-sama smiles again, but this time Sakura can tell it’s his actual happy smile, the one he doesn’t have to hide his eyes for. “I’ll explain the theory for fully, then we’ll practice on some seals. Genma, strip.”

Sakura’s acutely aware of the fact that they’re in the middle of a warzone the third time a random enemy ninja stumbles into the glade and is summarily dispatched by Raido or Iwashi. The first time her concentration had broken and Genma had writhed in excruciating pain for several long minutes as her chakra fluctuated wildly. The second time, had gone much the same. Sakura could feel her frustration building in the set of her jaw; she could just feel the edges of the strange chakra that didn’t match the rest of Genma’s and start to painstakingly weave in her own to contain all of it, but could ever get all of it. And she had to, only had one shot, because the seal could be set off if it wasn’t completely obliterated all at once. And that wouldn’t end well.

Still, Sakura is sure she’s made progress - this time she’d managed to ignore the fight behind her, and captured the seal in its entirety (she thinks). Now to burn it out - without frying her chakra paths, Genma’s chakra paths, or his muscles. Did she even know any fire or lightning jutsu?

Yondaime-sama comes over from where he’s been by Rin, “Ah, have you mastered that then? Come.”

They don’t have a lot of time now - the fight has shifted and headed more their way, or at least that’s what Sakura suspects. Still, she settles herself on the ground comfortably, and reaches for Rin’s chakra. She’s no sensor, and Rin’s chakra is distinctly two-toned, something acidic and burning in Rin’s gut against the cool blue of herr natural chakra. Sakura stops wandering and focuses her senses around Rin’s heart - that’s where the Yondaime said the seal would be, and it shouldn’t be anywhere else. So Sakura just needs to go over - and there! Now the hard part. She imagines her chakra as fine as a silk thread, fine as spider-silk, and sticky. She sends out thin tendrils,  and lets her chakra latch on to the strange inky texture, keep it in place. It’s agonizing work, with Sakura having to spin out her chakra so fine she’s barely sure that it’s there; she’s not even sure she’s going to get all of the seal in one pass and that could kill Rin. Maybe. Probably. Sakura wasn’t a fuinjutsu master, and wasn’t about to ask the Yondaime either.

A light touch to her shoulder makes Sakura surface from her concentration just enough to hear, “Sakura, hold that. We’re going to put a containment seal around so Rin’s chakra pathways in her chest don’t catch and go up as well. The seal we’re adding will constrain the field we’re going to burn to the same depth and area as where your chakra is. Now, don’t move.”

She opens her mouth to ask Genma a question when the surge comes. Later, Sakura will realize that Genma had probably realized she was just a scared genin doing her best - not even a chuunin, or a tokubetsu jounin, just a genin, and had aimed to distract her before the lightning. It shocks down her nerves, screams across her chakra, flashes and sparks and Sakura can feel herself lose control of her muscles, everything seizing and shrieking in agony. Somehow, it feels like she’s being ripped apart and being put back together again, and then it’s over. All that’s left is a gentle wash of healing chakra like the medics had cursorily given her when she and Sasuke and Naruto had stumbled into the tower at the end of the second stage of the Chuunin exams, and the blessed relief of black.

She comes back to in the cool quiet murmur of medics - they all have the same tone down pat, it’s easy to pick them out once you know how they talk. Then the softer overlay of Kakashi-sensei, and the other boy, Obito, closer than the medics. The sheets are clean and soft and Sakura has probably ended up in hospital pajamas and should be self-conscious of that fact, but instead she lets the ache in her bones take her back down into the velvety dark.

The second time she rouses enough to recognize where she is, she can feel the pricks of where the IV lines have gone into her arm, and the prod of cool and even chakra feeling along her body methodically. It’s blissfully soothing to the sore agony of her limbs, the pounding of her skull. She wonders if she’s gotten sick enough that her mother took her to a medic, like that one time when she had just started the Academy. Mom had been so worried, but it had been alright in the end. Sakura tilts into the hand smoothing over her head.

“Not your mom, kid.” The snort is distinctly not her mother’s, this one male and it takes a moment to remember. Sakura jackknifes upright, reaching for where her kunai pouch should be (but isn’t) and wishes she had listened when the Kunoichi studies teacher had told them to hide a weapon in their hair, underwear, and/or cleavage (if they ever had any) just in case.

Her heads spins and the world tilts as alarms blare - there’s a flare of alarm on all parts and hands are pushing her forward, head down. Sakura is not proud to say she panics, tries to struggle against the hands holding her even as more hands descend. Voices are yelling, shouting, and Sakura finally catches the unmistakable tone of Kakashi-sensei grunting as one of her hands catches someone in the face. If Kakashi-sensei is here then it must be safe. Kakashi-sensei is loyal, her sensei, and wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

As her (fruitless, really) fight tapers off, she lets herself be guided so her head is between her knees. The lightheadedness eases, and now Sakura can hear the murmur of medics, and Genma. That’s right. She’s not in her Konoha. Or, her Konoha isn’t here (yet?) The various possibilities are too confusing to think about too hard. “Breathe, kid.” Orders are good. Orders Sakura can follow. She takes a shaky breath, then another when the order comes. This is humiliating, because if Kakashi-sensei is here, then so are his teammates, and at least ANBU if not Raido and Iwashi, plus Genma. Sakura’s hair is pink - she’s not forgettable, and no one is likely to forget this ever.

“Come on, kid. You need to debrief with the Hokage.” Sakura hopes the package tossed onto the bed are clothes besides these pajamas. “I’ll be back after lunch, okay?” Sakura forces herself to nod - Its before lunch, she’s in Konoha, probably a hospital, probably the ninja hospital, and she’s alive in a time and place where Kakashi-sensei is a kid too. Probably  shouldn’t use anti-torture-interrogation techniques to keep herself in the present, but it was the only thing Sakura could think of. It still takes several long minutes to fully unfurl from her ball, relax sore muscles and properly breathe evenly, even longer to be steady enough to handle getting up and getting behind the privacy screen to change into the standard blue pants and shirt most adult ninja use. They’re hastily tailored with the long loose straight stitch taught to everyone in the Academy, not the neat and even backstitch most kunoichi use to build hidden pockets and spaces into their clothes. Sakura wonders if it’s worth trying to build a pocket by quietly ripping a few stitches, or if the ANBU watching will notice.

The decision is taken out of her hands by the steady thump of someone with a limp walking towards the screen. Obito. He’s leaning heavily on a crutch, concentrating on walking while clutching a new hospital pajama set in his hands. It’s clear why he needs it; he’s ripped large rents in his current set with green spikes. He’s frowning angrily, but he stops and smiles brightly at her as she shuffles out of the change space.

It reminds her of Naruto, and Sakura isn’t proud to say she feels a clench of anger and despair - at herself and her failures, and at remembering how mean she’d been, like the bullies had been mean about her forehead. “Hi!”

“Uh, hello.” Sakura tentatively returns the greeting. He looks like he wants to stay and chat, but a harried medic comes in and stares Sakura down. She knows a nonverbal summoning when she sees one, and cuts him off, “I’m sorry I have to go.” She bows politely and flees.

She’s early, she knows she’s early, waiting in the waiting room at the base of the stairs to the Hokage’s office. There’s a masked ANBU member who had appeared out of nowhere as she exited the restricted hospital ward, someone with a terrifyingly beautiful owl mask, and followed her to the Hokage Tower. Sakura’s not immediately concerned, not until she sees the eyes tracking her and hears the poorly concealed whispering. There’s no point in asking any questions to the ANBU agent, but Sakura wants to. She holds her head high instead - there’s no point in letting anyone see her weakness.

Sakura doesn’t wait long, all told. She’s escorted upstairs by the same ANBU, no respectfully bowing secretary or desk-nin subtly checking her over for weapons. Sakura has no doubts that the fresh-and-subtly-too-ill-fitted uniform is informing that decision - moving in it reveals that the seams are pinched to hinder easy movement, and any space anyone could conceivably easily hide a weapon moves such that it’d be quickly apparent. Anyone else would be pleased at how they’re treating her as a threat, as an unknown danger, but all Sakura can think is how it’s ironic - she’s weaker than the average genin, not yet ready to even be a genin with her skills, and ANBU and the Hokage are treating her like she’s dangerous.

She enters the office and immediately is taken by the sense of deja vu by the overall look of the office - the walls, the photos, the desk. The only major difference is the mess of papers in the guest seating, as if the Hokage had been doing extensive research and chose not the clean it up. If it’s a  deliberate choice, then Sakura doesn’t know what to make of it. Still, Sakura stands at attention before the Hokage’s desk and waits for him to acknowledge her.

He finishes conferring with the aide, and then turns and smiles at her. “Hello again Sakura. Thank you for coming.”

“The pleasure is mine Hokage-sama.” Sakura bows politely.

Yondaime-sama smiles, and it’s his closed eye one again, the one that no one else seems to notice is a veiled display of killing-intent. “I’m sure you understand we have questions for you. Regarding - well, to start, the fact you don’t appear in our records. No Academy records, no ninja registration though you gave one, not even a member of the Haruno family with your description or name. Yet, you knew where the Hokage Tower was, and your way around the hospital, as well as the protocols for entry. That’s all something no non-Konoha nin would know.”

Her brain spins. There’s choices to be made now, if all the textbooks that had described why time-travel seals are taboo were to be believed. Should she sacrifice her prided as a kunoichi again, and tell them everything to avoid T&I and having a Yamanaka dig around in her head? Should she refuse to say anything? But if she answered honestly, then she could avoid disasters like the Kyuubi attack, the Massacre. Would that mean she was never born? Would saving her home and the Hidden Village she swore loyalty to be worth it?

Apparently she takes too long because Yondaime-sama opens his eyes and that blasé and bland smile turns terrifying. “Would you mind answering some very simple questions then?”

Half-hearted and wary Sakura nods. “Where did you get the scrolls you came with?”

Right off the bat, it’s a trick question. Sakura would bet her A rank pay that Yondaime-sama knows the answer, but wants to hear if she’ll tell him. Inner curses the air blue as Sakura bites her lip, damn it. “The Tower library in the Forest of Death.”

The ANBU guards don’t even shift, nor does Yondaime-sama. The doubts begin to pile up, first a trickle then a rush. Is that the right answer? Do those scrolls even exist in Konoha in this time? What if one of them has the history of Konoha up until Sakura’s time in it?

“What were you doing at the front lines?” Yondaime-sama continues as if absolutely nothing is amiss.

This at least is easy. She lets some of her self-annoyance bleed through her tone, “To be honest,” she pauses, considering her words, “I… I was at the Tower library with my team waiting for our sensei and I got startled looking over the scrolls, reading a new technique, and my chakra must’ve activated one of the seals. I -I didn’t mean to.” Just truthful enough that it explains some things and holds back just enough information that there’s no use asking any further questions in that vein. Just a genin making a simple mistake and getting themselves into trouble.

Or not. Yondaime-sama frowns, the ANBU don’t twitch, and Sakura has the sinking feeling that she’s just told them all something wrong. Inner seethes, it’d be easier to just yell at them all, damn it! “Aah, who is your jounin-sensei?”

Sakura is not proud to say she panics. But there’s no way she can tell the truth and not be taken as … a crazy liar? A poorly-trained covert agent of the enemy?Any option is no good option. “The Copy-Nin, Kakashi.” Maybe leaving off Kakashi-sensei’s clan name will be good enough.

The Hokage’s smile drops off. He stares at her, as if he’s trying to dissect her with  his eyes alone, then steeples his fingers. He’s dropped the air-head act, Sakura suspects, given that the aide that was about to enter the room meeped and fled. Dangerous indeed. “Kakashi. Spelled “scarecrow”?” There’s a beat of silence, then his eyes dart to the side significantly, “Genma, the seal.”

Sakura hadn’t even noticed Genma there, but the room is covered by glowing ink scrawls, doing something. She is more afraid than she was when facing Zabuza in Wave Country, even though this is Konoha and the Hokage is not a murderous missing nin.

The Yondaime speaks now, “Sakura. Listen to me very carefully. I have one final question for you. Answer honestly.” The underlying or there will be consequences you don’t like remains unspoken but Sakura can hear it clearly. “Did you come here from the future?”

She can’t help it, she startles. He’s quick to reassure, “That information is not going to go beyond these walls, Sakura.”

“Because that’s going to ensure I continue to exist!” It comes bursting out of her like a waterfall, and so do the frustrated tears she had promised herself she wasn’t going to shed. With herself, with this no-win situation.

Heavy hands take her shoulders and guide her to the ugly couches tucked into the corner of the office, then thrusts a blue handkerchief into her hands. Sakura stutters her thanks, then wipes her tears ineffectively as they fall and fall and fall.

“Well, Yondaime-sama, that seems to answer that.” Genma mutters barely loud enough to hear. The Hokage just sighs in response. “Well, aren’t you glad you deciphered those seals now?”

There’s something to that statement that Sakura can’t quite work out - of course a seal master can figure out what a seal does, why wouldn’t he? - but it’s a problem for later. Her tears are slowing, and Sakura feels calmer than she has since she arrived here (whenever that was).

“Sakura, we’re going to temporarily assign you to be with my team, just until we figure out if - how to send you home okay? Since you’re at least familiar with Kakashi. We’ll forge some documents and have this be a seal accident that took a genin team to the front lines and got everyone but you killed. Can you remember that?” Sakura nods - it’s not a difficult lie to remember.

Yondaime-sama pauses considering, then forges on. “Just by being here you’ve already changed the future, you know. If there is anything you know that can keep Konoha safe - “ The door cracks open and an aide sticks her head in. The Hokage finishes roughly, distracted, “Please. I’m sure there’s somethings that could be handled differently.” He straightens and rewinds the scrolls. “We’ll have to speak later on that though.”

Sakura nods reluctantly - the Hokage has a point, and since she hasn’t failed to un-exist, then her existence is still secure. If only she could guarantee returning to her future as it was. Then she follows the Salamander ANBU out of the office.

There’s no reason for her to still be in the hospital ward that’s been cordoned off for the Hokage’s students, but since that’s where Kakashi-sensei is that’s where Sakura goes. She wants more to go and train - she knows the Academy katas and can at least work on her physical skills while she waits on the Hokage, but Salamander stares at her pointedly when she tries to branch off to the training grounds. Thus how she’s back in the hospital.

At least there’s good company, for what it’s worth. Obito - Uchiha! A real-life Uchiha! - is friendly and a startling counterpoint to what Sakura knows of Sasuke, as long as he’s not suddenly bursting into branches whenever he startles himself. Like gesticulating too wildly and falling out of bed.

“Maaa, Obito, isn’t this the fifth set of hospital pajamas you’ve shredded.” Kakashi-sensei is the oddest to actually talk to. He’s aloof, and says things in ways that don’t necessarily say what he means, but he’s still sharp. Sakura noticed the way that his visible eye alighted on Salamander, flicked to Sakura, and then had nodded once. Sakura is sure he’s understood that Sakura is to stay with him and the rest of his team, and got that all from a blank mask.

“You try having a new kekkai genkai randomly appearing, bastard! I’ll get it under control!” Sakura keeps expecting his sentences to end with “believe it!”, and it must show. Obito turns to her, “So Sakura, you’re a genin?”

Sakura nods once, because she is a genin, and simply getting through two stages of the Chunin exams didn’t change that fact. Rin’s been awake since Sakura got back, her color still grey but her smile easy and warm. “Oh! Then tell us about your team and your jounin-sensei!”

Meanly, Inner mouths off about Rin’s quiet friendliness, jealous and raging at her clear skill based on the thick and technical sounding medical texts on her bedside table. A kunoichi who wasn’t squandering herself chasing after boys. Rin’s been nothing but warm since Sakura returned though, quietly thanking her for doing the procedure and for telling the Hokage, praising her talent at not utterly destroying her ability to use chakra. Sakura looks away, overwhelmed. Rin is quick to correct, as if sensing her discomfort, “Don’t feel obliged though!”

“Ah, no. Um. I’m not sure what to tell you?” It’s a clear and blatant avoidance of the matter, and all three ninja pick up on it. “I’m teammates with Naruto and Sasuke. They’re rivals, I guess? They’re both good, but in different ways. Sasuke is a genius, but he’s… focused on achieving one goal. Naruto isn’t a genius, but he’s determined and he’s grown a lot as a ninja. He wants to become Hokage one day. They’ve both grown so quickly, especially Naruto. He almost didn’t pass the graduation exam, and now he’s -,” The frustration boiling in her gut is almost too much. Sakura doesn’t want to go on, bites back the words that sit on the tip of her tongue to  say instead, “I admire them both a lot.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Obito breaks it with a cheerful, “I like the sound of this Naruto guy! I bet we’d be good friends!” Rin giggles, like there’s some joke Sakura doesn’t understand, and Kakashi-sensei sighs. “Oh! Hey! What about you? Tell us about yourself!”

“There isn’t that much to tell?” Sakura looks down. “I. I’m not - haven’t -.”

Rin, who’s bedside she’s sitting at since it’s the only one with a chair by it, takes her hand. “You haven’t improved as much as your teammates?” Her tone is gentle. Sakura hunches over further, glum. “That’s fine! We can help with that! It sounds like your jounin-sensei has a lot on his hands with Sasuke and Naruto, and probably doesn’t devote much time to you. Rivals are hard to be teammates with, so you end up doing a lot of self-improvement alone.” Obito flinches, while Kakashi seems to not be bothered. Rin smiles serenely at the two, a good copy of their jounin-sensei’s smile and both boys stare in horror. “Kakashi. Obito. What say you about staging a break out?”

Obito whimpers and Kakashi-sensei tries to dispel a genjutsu.

“Please teach me that smile first.” Sakura breathes in amazed delight.

Hours later, Sakura is exhausted. Rin’s not cleared to do anything with chakra, and Kakashi-sensei is still suffering from chakra exhaustion, and Obito is still unsteady on his feet, but that doesn’t seem to mean that they don’t put Sakura through her paces.

Inelegantly, Kakashi sums up the experience, “You suck more than Obito.” Sakura would snap back verbally, but she’s too tired. Inner curses Kakashi-sensei out for her though.

“Kakashi. I think Sakura knew that much already.” Rin chastises beatifically. “Sakura, drink some water and we’ll review and figure out a place for you to start.” Which says a lot about Sakura’s state, doesn’t it, that she’s so bad at everything that they need to figure out what to begin improving first. She takes the water canteen with a quiet word of thanks, and sips gratefully.

“You don’t have much chakra - though you’re good at rationing chakra - or physical stamina, but you caught on pretty quickly with kenjutsu and how to avoid if we went slowly enough. And genjutsu. You were decent with genjutsu.” Obito rattles off around a mouthful of rice ball. He pauses after reviewing something in his head, frowning. “Actually, how’d you break my wood style back then?”

There had been a few mishaps with the wood style so far that afternoon. Sakura stares blankly back, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“You broke my wood with a punch.” Kakashi perks up, and Rin looks excited.

“With a punch? You’re sure?” Obito nods. “Like Tsunade of the Sannin!”

Sakura has to roll that around in her head. She knows of Tsunade, who doesn’t? One of the Legendary Sannin, the legendary frontline medic, who left Konoha during the Third War and hadn’t returned. Rin continues on, “Tsunade could level mountains with her fists alone! Maybe you could do something like that, Sakura? Chakra-augment your punches?”

Sakura shakes her head, “My taijutsu is horrid.” It was true. Not even good enough to do more than “guard” a civilian in a fight.

“That’s something time and practice can fix. No one comes out of the Academy a taijutsu genius afterall. Plus, we know your chakra control is good enough to be a medic nin!” Rin is practically bouncing in her seat. Sakura just stares. “Go on! Try it out!”

Sakura does. Her punches land ineffectively on the training post, knuckles already bruised from the testing earlier. Nothing happens to the post. Rin and Obito call out encouragements as Sakura’s frustration mounts.

Kakashi-sensei sighs heavily from where the rest of Team Minato is seated parallel to her, then enters her field of vision fully. “Not like that. You’re going to hurt yourself. Like this.” Kakashi-sensei carefully places his stance, and stares at Sakura until she arranges herself to mimic him, then corrects her gently. Then he slowly works himself through the punch, a simple straight that’s easy enough to copy. He has her repeat the motion over and over until he’s satisfied. “Now add a touch of chakra to that.”

Sakura does, and repeats the motion. “Not chakra everywhere, just chakra to your fist.” She corrects, and repeats the motion a few more times, then more times still as Kakashi-sensei repeats “again” like it’s the only word he knows. Finally he nods once, “Punch the post. All your strength.”

Sakura is tired, and sweaty, and she’s gone through the motion of throwing a punch so much her arms are sore. Still, she pulls at the foundations of her frustration and anger and throws that behind the punch, with just a touch of chakra to the front of her fist. It lands neatly, the motion smoothed out from practice, and her fist leaves a deep hole in the wood. Not all the way through, or even a quarter, but clearly more than anyone else has managed in the years that the post has weathered. Obito and Rin cheer excitedly from the sidelines, and Sakura thinks for once she might be able to build on this skill easily. She forgets herself in her excitement for a moment and hugs Kakashi-sensei, doesn’t realize until he stiffens that she had crowed, “Thank you Kakashi-sensei!”

“Kakashi-sensei, hmm?” Obito ponders the phrase. “Who would give this asshole genin anyways? Not Minato-sensei!” He and Rin dissolve into amused giggles.

A crackle of lightning and the Hokage appears, “Not Minato-sensei what?”

Rin giggles, “There’s no way you’d give Kakashi a genin team!”

Sakura feels the urge to defend her teacher in absentee, “He’s a good teacher though!” In all fairness, her Kakashi-sensei wasn’t, but since this one and that one were both her sensei, in a weird recursive way….

Minato ruffles Sakura’s head first, then Kakashi’s. “Then we’ll have to give him a genin team with that sort of strong recommendation.” The barely disguised look of horror lurking in Kakashi-sensei’s eyes is worth her defense of him.

Slowly they all make their way to Ichiraku ramen, celebration in order several times over. First, Obito’s return - apparently he’d been MIA presumed KIA for some time now. Rin’s survival of being tortured by Kiri - plus the bijuu and the death seal, which Sakura carefully notices that Yondaime-sama doesn’t mention; as well as Sakura’s newly discovered skill. And Kakashi-sensei’s discovery of latent teaching talent.

“Ramen! The food of champions!” Obito cheers.

“Minato-sensei, if we’re just going so you can meet Kushina-san please let me go home instead.” Kakashi-sensei declares unflinchingly. The Yondaime just smiles and  Kakashi-sensei sighs.

“Kushina-nee is the best!” Obito explains, as if he’s not leaning on Rin as his limp gets more pronounced with tiredness. “She’s super pretty and got long red-hair. Plus, she’s got the best taste in ramen!”

Ichiraku is mostly empty when they get there, the bar seats near the street all free. They settle down and order, Sakura sticking to the standard miso ramen with cha-shu pork on top. Her  stomach rumbles pointedly at the smell of the delicious broths and the aroma of cooking meats. Over the sound of Obito and Kakashi arguing - or rather Kakashi making vague statements that antagonize Obito because they’re entirely too vague and are probably designed to needle Obito - the Yondaime murmurs to Sakura, “We’ll head back to my office after we drop everyone back at the hospital. ” Her stomach sinks - however much she’s internalized that she’s already changed the future, that if she ever returns to her time and place things will be different - there’s still no good way to disclose the things she knows.

There’s a flurry of bright red hair swinging into the open seat next to the Yondaime, “You wouldn’t believe the kind of day I had! Some asshole tried to tell me Obito was alive - I punched his face in, believe it!”

“Kushina-nee!”

“Obito?!”

Sakura is frozen. She knows that face. She knows that face. Her eyes dart to the Yondaime, who’s being whacked repeatedly in the arm by his … girlfriend? … and she knows that coloring too. No way.

Rin leans over, “Sorry about that. Kushina and Obito together … they’re a lot to get used to.” That’s an understatement, given their volume, but that’s not - . Sakura shakes herself free. Why hadn’t anyone ever said anything to Naruto? The Yondaime was his father. Would be his father?

The thought carries her through a wild ramen eating contest, dropping off Rin and Obito at the hospital - they lost Kakashi-sensei somewhere and Sakura can’t believe Kakashi-sensei getting lost is something that’s real and not a shitty excuse, she’s going to have to apologize so much to Kakashi-sensei later, though Rin and Kushina cry from laughing too hard when Sakura mentions getting him a map and Obito makes a dying noise - walking Kushina back to her apartment and trying to ignore the Hokage’s poor flirting game because oh Shodaime those are her teammate’s parents why. Then they’re back in the Hokage Tower and Sakura can’t help herself. “Holy trees of Konoha!”

Yondaime-sama looks startled. “Huh?”

Sakura gesticulates wildly, uncaring she’s not being proper or like a lady or whatever her mother tried to drill into her head. “You! And Kushina-san! Naruto!” Yondaime-sama blinks blankly. “He looks just like you both, Yondaime-sama!”

He looks bewildered for a moment, then turns bright red. “Oh. Um.” He buries his face in his hands, to the quiet snickering of Genma and Raido by the door.

Sakura feels vindicated that someone else if finding this earth shattering as a revelation too. This puts everything in a new light! Naruto would be the first person to ever be a direct descendant of a Hokage to become Hokage! Sakura’s already resolved to be nicer to Naruto, in recognition of her determination and improvement towards his goal, but now she’s going to support his dream too.

The Nara that had quietly passed through the door clears his throat pointedly. “Hokage-sama? If we could get back to the point?”

Minato unearths himself to compose himself. “Ah. Yes. Thank you Shikaku.” He straightens his jacket, then thumbs something Sakura can’t see. The seals activate again. “About what happens in the future….”

Sakura wonders if this is really alright to tell them. What if the future is already changed to avert those catastrophes? It must show on her face because Shikaku grimaces, “Even if the events never come to pass, knowing they’re a possibility and the potential outcomes is better than not knowing.”

It’s a point Sakura has to concede. “I - don’t know specifics. Just the major events, or what I’ve heard over time.” This seems to be acceptable to the Hokage and Shikaku. “None of them have to do with the Third War.” Grimaces. Well, then. “The Uchiha are going to be massacred by the eldest son of the Clan Head. He snapped one night and slaughtered them all except his little brother.” Yondaime-sama nods and makes some notes on a piece of paper. Sakura hope sit for mandatory T&I review for all shinobi, to make sure they’re sane, that the Uchiha don’t end up dead again. She breathes deeply then continues, “The Kyuubi is going to get loose on October 10th. The Hokage and his wife die in the attack, after sealing the Kyuubi into an orphan.”

There’s silence as that sinks in, and uneasy glances are exchanged. The Hokage’s eyes sharpen, as if he’s suddenly understanding something terrible. “We can put more security measures in place then. Thank you for telling us.” Sakura’s gut clench, because she knows now that the Hokage understood her. “Do you know how long it will be from now?”

Sakura shakes her head in dissent. “Unless you tell me the year?” Shikaku tells her and she runs some calculations. Then frowns and runs them again. “Yondaime-sama is Hokage right?” Curious looks, but Shikaku nods. The numbers don’t make sense. “And the Third War is ongoing?” More nods, this time from all around. “Then the timeline - .” Sakura crunches the numbers one last time. “My timeline is different!”

“What?” Minato boggles.

“You’re not supposed to have become Hokage until after the end of the war. After you kill over a thousand Kiri nin in a few minutes with your Hiraishin. It came down to you and Orochimaru of the Sannin.”

“But Orochimaru refused the hat here?” The Hokage looks confused. “He’s… well he’s really busy regrowing limbs for people injured in the war.”

“Oh.” Strange, the Snake person working on limb regeneration. Sakura couldn’t fathom how that had happened, recalling the horrific monster she had encountered in the Forest of Death. “That’s about everything major you need to know as far as history. There are probably more minor events, but I don’t know them.” Sakura bows her head in apology.

The Hokage smiles, genuine and soft. “No, thank you Sakura. Your information may not come to be of any use, but it still might save lives.” He stands. “Come on. We’ve got a way to get you home.”

Home. Or, hopefully home. Close enough to home that would make no difference? Sakura will take any of the above, and willingly follows the Hokage into the depths of the Tower.

She’s falling again, but this time she twists in the air like she saw young Kakashi-sensei do and punches the ground as she lands. The floor fractures and splits like an earthquake has passed, and then crumbles. Sakura can hear screams, around her, and she feels woozy as she cradles her broken hand - probably too much chakra use, whoops. But! She still wrecked the floor - maybe she’d make something of a kunoichi yet!

“Maa, maa, Sakura-chan. I don’t think the poor floor deserved such treatment.” Kakashi-sensei doesn’t even bother to look up from where he’s reading a garish orange book. Sakura thinks of the aloof young boy she left in the past and wants to laugh,

“Look, Kakashi-sensei! I did it! Like Tsunade of the Sannin!” Sakura can feel a laugh bubbling up inside her like something being set free. This is only step one of her chase after Sasuke and Naruto after all, one punch does not a strong kunoichi make. But it feels more manageable now, to build on this skill, to grow. Maybe she can stand on an even playing field with her teammates, maybe they can be just as good as the Sannin, or better, if Naruto is half as good at sealing as his father, if Sasuke is half as much as genius as Kakashi-sensei. Sakura thinks of Naruto and his million clones zooming around in clouds of lightning, of Sasuke matching him with his Sharingan and tossing around jutsu like leaves. If that’s a possibility, then maybe Sakura shouldn’t just aim to be a good kunoichi and teammate. Maybe she could reach farther than just improving. Maybe she should aim to be the best of them all, among the S class nin. It doesn’t seem so far fetched, and while the task seems daunting, it seems possible. She bursts in laughter, ignoring the way Naruto was cowering as muttering concernedly about how “Sakura-chan got scary.” Yes, this is a path Sakura can follow, and this is a path Sakura will follow until she’s the best.

Omake:

“Aaa, Sakura-chan.” Kakashi-sensei snaps closed his book. “Rin says ‘hello’.” Then he disappears in a substitution, leaving a log behind.

If you enjoyed this piece, why not take a look at other pieces written by the same author on AO3.

[megasanduu]

Friend’s advice

Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery

Pairing: Saru x reader (platonic)

!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!! Scared of blood? Start reading from second paragraph

Tags: small talk, tired reader, friendship,

Summary: Reader is tired and refuses to leave her station. Saru is having none of that. Can be seen as part two of Doctor’s orders, or read as one shot.

A/N: I love Saru so much! My precious Beanpole smiled so beautifully in the finale. I want more of that. I NEED more of that. Also Culmets did nothing to deserve this. Hey, it’s been a week and I am not over anything that happened. What am I supposed to do with my time? IS ASH VOQ?! IS HE?! I’ll wreck some serious shit if he is. [Maniacal laughter]

A/N2: Ok, here is a part 2, because i couldn’t get enough of this story :) I do not own ST:DSC! 

You ripped her shirt and stared at stab wound and slowly dripping blood. Before she passed out, the princess had told you that knife missed important organs, but you needed to stop the bleeding. Looking around yourself in the tent you spotted a spoon. Grabbing it you took match out of your pocket. Cursing this planets humidity you finally started a flame, warmed the utensil and made sure your patient was asleep. Silently you touched the knife that was sticking out of her belly. You readied all of your muscles for the painful procedure awaiting both you and the girl. You despised giving people pain, even if it was necessary to save them. Suddenly someone grabbed your right arm…

...And ripped you away from your dream… or was it a nightmare? You didn’t know because details faded immediately as you looked in familiar blue eyes. Your right hand flew to your face to gather rest of the sleepiness from your eyelashes, but you noticed that you really were holding a spoon in it.

“Commander Saru? What are you doing here?” That utensil seemed to be the only real part of your dream. You realised that you were not in a forest. Furthermore, the bloody wound was in fact a cold soup. “Oh, God damn it.” You took your hand out of your unfinished dinner and wondered what to do with it.

He smiled, clearly amused by your messy, dishevelled form. “Here.” he passed you a tissue from his pocket. “Use this.”

You made yourself look somewhat presentable and stroke a pose of a serious doctor doctorin’ around. “So, to what do I owe this pleasant visit?” You smiled and looked up (way up) at him.

“I have realised that you had been on duty for over thirty two hours. You must be exhausted.” He sat down on the other side of your desk. “[Y/N], I too am responsible for this crew and I cannot watch you work yourself to death.”

You closed your eyes and jet your facade fall down. You hid your face in your hands sighed deeply. Then, taking your PAD you opened your unfinished report from the last twenty four hours.

“Take a look. On the course of the last day we had four months worth of panic attacks, faints, headaches, stomachaches and one extremely weird hyperventilation that I cannot say much about because it was so strange.” You took a moment to analyse his features as he studied data that you presented to him. Noticing that he was reading everything in depth, you went over to your replicator and ordered green tea and black coffee, both hot. You passed him his cup and sat back in your chair.

“While you were asleep,” he started after muttering a quick thank you, “doctor Culber was handling the sickbay pretty fine in my opinion.” He showed you the parts that were added by Hugh.

“I know, he is a great doctor and a good friend but I can’t leave him in command of sickbay right now.” Saru looked at you, clearly wanting some explanation. You took a good sip of your coffee and continued. “His place is at Lt. Stamets’ bedside. Not in this chair.”

He nodded and started drinking his tea returning to your report, you could see that he was not particularly fond of the beverage.

“You prefer black? Or white? When I drink tea, I take white.” You stood up and were heading to the replicator but he stopped you.

“No, it’s just the fact that it is replicated. It looses the aroma.” You smiled at his answer and raised your own cup.

“Tell me about it.” You sat back down. “And that strange Klingon in the brig?” Another sigh. “She is so strange.” You leaned back. He put his cup back on your desk and looked back at you.

“What do you mean?” He asked patting his knees gently.

You sipped your drink with a long slurp. “All I can tell you is that Tyler was a complete mess for two hours after just seeing her.” You didn’t want to elaborate, but you shot your friend a look that was supposed to tell the rest of the story. “That woman is dangerous and when I examined her she seemed happy to be here. Even I am not happy to be on this ship and I’m not a prisoner!”

He chuckled. “Where would you rather be?”

You closed your eyes imagining your home. On Earth. “Somewhere I can pinpoint on a map.” You both laugh at this small joke. You felt at peace. You closed your eyes and suddenly your head was heavy, again. You were worm, and cosy…

“Can I ask you something?” Saru ripped you from sleep once again. You shot straight up.

“Sure!” Your answer was a bit too loud.

“How come that Ensign Haines had broken his left upper fang in second row? I didn’t realise humans had second row of teeth.”

Your eyes flew open, and you were ripping PAD from his hands. “Oh shoot.” You couldn’t believe your own eyes as you scanned the file. “I didn’t send this to the captain, did I?”

He tilted his head and patted his knees again. “Actually, you did. Luckily he didn’t give a damn and had me check it.” He leaned forward and put his hands on your desk. “Eat something that is not an instant ramen. Get some sleep in bed. Doctor Culber will do just fine without you.”

You smiled gently and started getting up. “First Officer’s orders?”

He smiled and stood up. “No. Friend’s advice.”

[bluebellwriting]

Mom-Friend Looking for a Dad-Friend Part 2

You’re sitting in your office, going over some case notes from your last session with Paul. The poor thing has really been missing his husband. You never had the pleasure of meeting Hugh, but from the way Paul talks, he was a wonderful man and a loving partner. You’re sure you would have loved him. 

Your door pings and without looking up you beckon your guest to come in. The familiar sound of hooves on metal draw your eyes upward to Saru who looks... horrible. 

His skin is pale, eyes watery and pained, and he’s sniffling. Never in the time you’ve known him have you seen Saru look so vulnerable or so openly in pain. It’s a strange and horrible sight, and you want nothing more than to wrap him in your arms, and hug and kiss the pain away.

“Oh, Saru!” You stand and usher him over to the small couch in your office. He looks gigantic compared to it, but he sinks into the soft cushions and lets out a content sigh. Once he’s seated and you can actually reach his face, you place a hand on to his forehead.

“You’re burning up, you poor thing.” Saru leans into your touch, forgetting for a moment the immense pain he’s in, just relishing in the coolness of your hands. You’re so sweet, so lovely, such an angel. 

“Saru,” your voice draws him back out of the fever’s void. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in med bay?”

“I wanted,” he breathes, “to come see you. It’s nicer here.”

“But you need help. More help than I’m equipped to give you right now.”

You try to move away but a hand on your waist -- Saru’s hand -- keeps you there.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.”

He leans his head back to lean against the wall, but you’re still being held in his grasp. Which honestly isn’t fair, you need to be helping him right now and the feeling of his large fingers holding you close is just so distracting.

“Saru, please. Let me take you to med bay, or at least back to your room. My couch is too tiny for you, you giant.” 

Saru sighs but lethargically rises from the couch. His hand remains on you though, gliding up from your waist to your back to your shoulder, using you like a tether to keep him from plummeting into something horrible. The longer this “cold” persists, the more it occurs to him that this isn’t a rhinovirus. But maybe he can just fall into you, let the embrace you have over him keep upright for just a little bit longer. 

You have to hold on to him with all your might to keep him from falling over in the halls. He refused to go to med bay, afraid of the inevitable. He wasn’t ready yet, there was still so much to do, so much to tell, to say to you. The issue of needing to confess his love to you now before he disappears forever is weighing on his mind just as much as the news of his impending death. But it wouldn’t be fair to you, especially if you didn’t return his feelings. To pour his heart out only to expire and leave you with the guilt of not loving him back would be far too cruel.

You’re about to reach his quarters and Saru is lost in a day dream of resting his head in your lap, letting your thighs cushion and comfort him. But Michael had to ruin that with a desperate call to the bridge.

You graciously helped him there but were called back to med bay at that by Dr. Pollard, who was desperately understaffed. You left him in a rush, a promise to check on him at every possible moment, and one last lovely sight of the back of your head.

---

The med bay was overrun with your wounded crew mates after... whatever had happened. You’re still not quite sure. Right now all of your attention is on checking vitals and applying hypos. But when Saru comes stumbling into the room, it’s like you have tunnel vision. All you’re able to see is how considerably worse he’s gotten, how he can’t even support himself anymore. He has such powerful legs, it’s strange seeing them so weak.

You finished quickly and rushed over to him, not even trying to hide the partiality you felt towards him. That’s when he told you that he was dying, that the man you were falling in love with was going to disappear from this realm within mere hours. You almost burst into tears then and there, but Saru was determined now, motivated to use what time he had left to save his crew. He didn’t need you blubbering over him or confessing your love (which you’re sure he didn’t reciprocate) to distract him. This is how he wanted to spend his final hours, and you were ready to honor that.

But it hurt. A very selfish part of you wanted him to want to spend these last hours with you. That same part so desperately wanted you to confess your love to him, to scream out into the world how deeply into him you had fallen. But a bigger part, the therapist, the maternalist, tells you that you can’t. That he doesn’t need the weight of some girl’s affections on his fatigued shoulders. He needs to rest and to work, he doesn’t need to be concerned for you right now.

So you stay quiet and resist the urge to check in with him and Michael every minute. You use what you remember from medical school to help patients who you can actually save. You try not let the those dim, teal eyes haunt you throughout the day.

---

You’ve just returned to your office after your long day assisting in med bay when you get the call from Michael. You’re tired, your arms are achy and your back feels like it’s holding up a thousand pound stone. But when she calls you, you’re out of your seat and down the hall before she can even finish.

He’s okay, she says. He wants to see you.

When you enter his quarters he’s on his bed, shirtless, and very much not dead. In fact, the color has returned to his face and his eyes are alight with a kind of energy you’ve never seen from him before. On his end table in a small bowl rests his... ganglia. The sight of them is enough to distract you from his shirtlessness.

“Saru!”

His eyes meet yours and he grins. You hug him before you can even think about it because he’s alive. He’s breathing and smiling and hugging you back. He’s alive.

“I was so worried. I was thinking about you all day and I--”

“I’m sorry.”

You pull back to look up at him but you keep your shoulders on his forearms, just to make sure he’s here with you. It’s definitely not because you like the way his skin feels against yours.

“Why?”

“I...” he breathes out. “I came in here with all intentions to... And I didn’t get to say goodbye.” 

Your shoulders deflate and you remove your hands from him entirely. He came in here to die with Michael. He wanted Michael to be here instead of you. 

You take a step back, trying not to look hurt because this isn’t about you and your feelings. You should just be grateful that he’s alive. 

Plus, Michael’s known him for longer. And she’s stronger and more brilliant and more attractive than you, of course, he’d want her here with him. Of course, he’d choose her.

You hide your disappointment behind your best and brightest smile.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m just happy you’re here,” you tell him. He smiles at you again and proceeds to tell you everything that had transpired since you had seen him med bay. About his revelations regarding his people, about the freedom he now feels, about the conversations he had had with Michael. You try to be happy for him and in a way you are. You’re thrilled about his new relationship with his culture and his mind, and heartbroken with him over this new truth he has stumbled upon. But you have to force down the anguish you feel every time he mentions Michael.

---

You’ve been avoiding Saru since his vahar’ai, making up reasons for why you couldn’t eat dinner or listen to music with him. Sure it was cowardly, but you could take cowardice over the feelings he brought up for you. Every moment you did spend with him was just a reminder that he could do so much better, that your feelings were useless because he was probably in love with Michael or some other amazing person on this ship that wasn’t you.

Yes, you’re aware that if a patient of yours was acting so childish you would have told them to confront their problem head-on. But you’re only human and sometimes it’s just easier to descend into the pit of repression, no matter how psychologically damaging it might be.

That’s how your sister had put it when she had confronted you about your “increased workload” and frequent nights hidden away in your quarters.

“So what? You’re just gonna hideaway from him forever?” Sylvia asked.

“No! Not forever,” you pouted. “Just until I have to return to the Enterprise with Captain Pike.”

“Don’t remind me that that’s a possibility. I’ve loved having you here with me all the time.”

“I have too.” You smile at her. “But ultimately my home is on the Enterprise and this just... affirms that maybe this isn’t the right place for me.”

“But you are perfect for Saru!”

“That doesn’t matter, Syl. What matters is what he wants and I don’t think that will ever be me.”

“In that case... have you considered a rebound? Maybe that ensign that’s shown some interest in you,” she teases and you shudder at the thought of him.

“Mark? No, no way. He’s just a flirt who can’t take a hint.”

“Okay, then someone else! Oh! Maybe at the party next weekend?”

“No.”

“Oh, come onnnnnnn.” Sylvia flops onto your lap, sending you her best pleading eyes. 

“Ugh, no. I hate parties. The loud music, the bumping and grinding.”

“You’re such an old lady. Please? If you really want to get over him, a rebound might be the best way.” She nudges your shoulder.

“Syl,” you sigh. “I think that’s the problem. This isn’t something that can be fixed with a rebound, assuming I can even get one.”

Your sister sends you a glare, screaming ‘knock it off with that self-criticalness.’

“I just mean,” you continue. “This feels so different. I feel so different about him, more than I’ve ever felt about anyone and it just hurts to much knowing I can’t have him. He’s not someone I could just get over with a casual fling.”

“Why are you so convinced he doesn’t like you? You should know by now that he’s way different around you, way happier, way more relaxed. I don’t think it’s as out of the question as you think.”

You shrug because you can’t put it into words. It’s a feeling, deep in your gut, telling you that he’s going to break your heart if you’re not careful. You’ve already let your guard down too much.

“Well, how about we make it a girls night? We can dress up all fancy and dance~” Sylvia interjects, bringing you out of your cloud of negativity.

“...Fine. But I’ll only stay for a few minutes.”

---

Sylvia left your quarters with a conniving grin. She taps her comm badge.

“Tilly to Commander Burnham.”

“Burnham here. What’s going on, Tilly?”

“Can you meet with me in the spot?

There’s a short pause, but Sylvia knows Michael is grinning just as wickedly.

“I’ll be right there.”

“The spot” is really just their shared quarters but the two decided long ago that neither you nor Saru could learn about their secret meetings to get you two together. These meetings began as casual chats or with Michael complaining about the goo-goo eyes Saru would send you from across the room. Ultimately, this became the war room in the infernal battle to bring together two souls who were so obviously meant to be together but were too dorky to actually do anything about it.

“Did you tell her about the party?” Michael asks as soon as the door closes behind her.

“Yes! And she actually agreed which is the real miracle here. What about Saru?”

Michael sighs, “we’re gonna have to work on that.”

“What do you mean? What have you been telling him?”

“That there’s a party and it might be fun for him to socialize and relax.”

Sylvia looks at her incredulously.

“What?” Michael cries. “If I say, ‘oh, and (Y/N) will be there in a sexy dress,’ he’s going to panic and not show up at all.”

“How is he, by the way? Any better?”

Michael sighs and flops on her bed. Truth be told, Saru had been a nightmare and was making no attempt to hide it. He had been agitated every since his vahar’ai and everyone on the bridge was convinced it was because he wasn’t getting his daily dose of you. 

There was a pattern. He’d report for duty each morning with a hopeful look in his eyes. He’d send you a message asking if you wanted to have lunch. He’d receive ‘no’ as an answer. He’d ask about dinner. Again a ‘no.’ He’d mope for about a solid hour, and then be cranky for the rest of the day. At first it was kind of amusing, seeing the usually cool and collected Kelpien reduced to a depressed dork because of you. But now it was just annoying and infuriating, with a hint of sad.

“He’s getting worse. He doesn’t even snap at people anymore. He just mopes. Have you told (Y/N)?”

“Even if I did, she wouldn’t believe me. She’s so convinced that he’s actually in love with you.”

They burst out laughing at that. 

“Okay, okay,” Sylvia breathes, recovering from their fit of giggles. “You should tell him that she’s going to be there and that he should get a grip and whisk her off her feet. I have a feeling pushing him into the deep end on this will finally motivate him.”

“Are you going to tell (Y/N)?”

“Mmm, no. I think it should be a surprise.”

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.71

"Above and Beyond”

A/N: This covers the remainder of episode 8, "Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum," and the first part of episode 9, "Into the Forest I Go."

By the way, how strange was it to write lului and then have Pahvans appear in the show? Diffuse cellularly-networked lifeforms that sensors don't see who are one with the forest they live in... what the actual. Lului are very different from Pahvans, but still. I'm on the same wavelength as someone in that writer's room.

The evolutionary difference between lului and Pahvans illuminated in this chapter may be a new detail to the published chapters of this story, but it's actually something that was written back in the beginning. Originally, there was a chapter of Lorca talking to Arzo and Ek'Ez for paragraphs and paragraphs of lului biological and evolutionary analysis and speculation. Fearing no one but me would want to read that much speculative, technical detail, I shelved the chapter, but the full details of it will be in an appendix at the end.

And I swear it on my life, all the cookies in this chapter were one-and-done random draws! (The universe keeps giving providing the most perfect fortunes at various points. I'm beginning to think fate might actually be real.)

Full Chapter List 1 - Objects in Motion << 70 - Seek and You Shall Find 72 - All the Fears You Hold So Dear >>

"Incoming transmission from Pahvo," came the announcement from the bridge.

Lorca emerged from the ready room smirking confidently. Finally. That mission had taken entirely longer than it should have and some part of him wondered what Burnham and Tyler had gotten up to on Pahvo. Whatever it was, he hoped they enjoyed it. Their growing affection had not escaped his notice. Had Saru had been flustered by unwittingly playing chaperone? Had he succeeded at it, even? Burnham tended not to let anything get in the way when she wanted something, and even with admiral pips, Saru was no match for her. "Let's hear it."

"Michael Burnham to Discovery! Discovery, do you read me?"

It was very subtle, the rush of adrenaline in her voice, but Lorca could hear it and the smirk faded in an instant. "We read you," he answered.

No reply. He looked at the current communications officer on the bridge, Lieutenant Bryce. "The transmission terminated at the source," Bryce said, pressing buttons on his console.

"Black alert!" ordered Lorca.

It took almost ninety seconds for the rest of the ship to catch up to him and for Stamets to get into the spore chamber. During that ninety seconds, Lorca quietly cursed each one of them for every moment of the delay. Something was not right and they needed to be there ninety seconds ago.

Discovery dropped into orbit well within transporter range, the ship giving the faintest of shudders at the sudden gravitational adjustment. A moment later, there was a strange pulsing thrum, then another. "What the hell was that?"

"The transmitter on the planet," said Owosekun from the ops station. "Detecting three life signs. Two human, one Kelpien."

Owosekun was a very smart officer. If the scans held anything alarming, she would report it immediately, but just to be certain, Lorca said, "Status?"

"No signs of distress," said Owosekun. "We have transporter lock."

"Sir, commlink reestablished," said Bryce.

Lorca nodded, satisfied for the moment by the smooth competence on display around him, and sat down in the captain's chair. "Discovery to landing party. We have a lock on your coordinates. Prepare for transport."

Standard protocol called for a medical examination after an away mission on an alien planet. Lorca sent word down to sickbay for Culber to send Saru and Burnham up to the ready room as soon as they were cleared.

"Captain," said Culber, and there was an edge to Culber's tone that belied his unease. "Burnham's fine, but Commander Saru... was injured."

Lorca paused, pensive. Thankfully, Culber clarified without prompting, because Lorca hated betraying his sentimentality too blatantly in the presence of the assembled bridge crew:

"He'll be fine, he just needs some rest."

"Then send me Burnham," said Lorca.

Burnham's report was characteristically brusque. "Upon beaming down to the planet..." She detailed their first contact with a species of pacifist organisms she described as a sort of swarm of microorganisms who, absent other means, had devised their musical transmitter as a way to reach out to life out in the stars.

It was a beautiful story, even recounted as impassively as Burnham told it. Lorca munched on a cookie that held the fortune Your present plans are going to succeed as he listened. The Pahvans had not been detected by sensors because, like lului, they were diffusely networked cells. The central difference seemed to be (if Lorca understood Ek'Ez's report on lului evolutionary biology correctly) that the cells making up Lalana's body had evolved into a symbiotic relationship with another species and formed a permanent lattice on top of the other species' structure, creating a third species from the combination, whereas the Pahvan organisms retained their microscopic independence. If you could separate Lalana's cells from her residual skeletal, neural, and optical structures without triggering the rapid cell degradation, she would be a liquid version of a Pahvan.

Burnham was clearly taken with the Pahvans. The only thing missing from her story was a full accounting of whatever had befallen Saru; Burnham seemed to be glossing over that, describing it merely as, "Commander Saru was adversely affected by the Pahvans. As a consequence, the modulator was damaged and the commander wounded."

At least the story ended on a positive: "The Pahvans repaired the modulator and agreed to help us, captain."

Lorca smiled. Mischkelovitz might have just won them the war. "Well done, Burnham." He slid the cookie bowl towards her. She took one, largely out of politeness he suspected, and cracked it, glancing down at the fortune without much reaction.

"If that's all, captain," she said.

"Somewhere you need to be?"

"Commander Saru and Lieutenant Tyler are still being treated in sickbay."

"Then by all means," said Lorca, gesturing for her exit. She thanked him and left. He brushed cookie crumbs from his fingers. She had not done him the favor of relaying her fortune.

When they looked for Mischkelovitz's cloak detection frequency, they could not find it. It made no sense. According to Burnham, the modulator was online. The transmitter was clearly still active. It was just not transmitting the correct frequency wave.

Then, something happened that made clear the modulator had not worked and instead something had gone very, very wrong. The signal changed, but not in the way they expected. "Check it again," Lorca demanded of Bryce. The results of the first analysis were completely unpalatable.

The analysis was the same the second time.

"Burnham to the bridge!" ordered Lorca from the captain's chair, staring at the viewscreen and frowning. She arrived with Tyler at her side. Lorca's greeting to her was an accusation: "You said the adjustment to the Pahvan transmitter was a success."

"I thought it was," said Burnham.

"Mr. Bryce!" said Lorca sharply.

Bryce clarified the issue for Burnham. "The signal strength has increased by a factor of ten to the twelfth power. The music's gone. All that's being transmitted now is a massive electromagnetic wave."

"Captain, I don't understand, I thought the Pahvans—" began Burnham.

Tyler cut her off. "Sir, Specialist Burnham integrated our technology exactly as ordered. We should now be able to detect any invisible Klingon ships within range of the Pahvan signal."

"Apparently not," said Lorca, glaring at Tyler for interrupting Burnham. That Tyler felt it necessary to leap to Burnham's defense as if she lacked her own agency and required rescue rankled Lorca. What Burnham actually required was clarity on their situation, which Tyler could not provide.

Lorca could. He rose from the captain's chair and strode towards the viewscreen. "The transmitter is now sending a new signal limited to two subspace bands, ours and the Klingons. What you did, Burnham, was invite the enemy to join us here."

He turned towards Burnham and found her staring at him in assessment.

"No," she said, stepping out from behind the science console. She was entirely unintimidated by him, confident in her realization of what had happened. "The Pahvans did that. Their entire existence is an effort to bring harmony to discord and they know about our conflict with the Klingons. They're trying to bring us together. They think they're helping."

"Captain," Rhys interrupted. "Long-range sensors have detected an incoming Klingon vessel. It's entering the sector at high warp."

"Can you identify what it is?"

Tyler joined Rhys at the tactical console. "The Ship of the Dead, sir. The Sarcophagus."

The Klingon flagship. The ship which had, at the Battle of the Binary Stars, rammed and destroyed the Europa. After the battle, the Klingons had affixed the bodies of their dead to the ship's exterior, earning the ship the name "Sarcophagus" in Federation communications and the informal title "Ship of the Dead" among the ranks.

Lorca turned back to the viewscreen. He stared out at the blue-white gem of Pahvo and its two moons sitting suspended against a canopy of stars.

"We're the Pahvan's only line of defense," said Burnham. "We have to protect them, sir. We have to fight."

Lorca pressed the nail of his forefinger against his thumb. This was not going according to plan. As he looked at the planet and the stars and stood there in front of the vista, he began to nod his head slightly. It was a setback, yes, but it was also a very grand opportunity.

One way or another, he was going to forge a legend no one would ever forget here at Pahvo. Georgiou had failed against the Sarcophagus at the Binary Stars. This was a chance to show once and for all who the better captain was.

The Klingon warship was still hours away. Lorca sent an update to Starfleet on the situation requesting immediate reinforcement. Anticipating a positive response, he began to strategize how they could deploy such reinforcements. Pahvo was not an ideal location for battle, especially given the presence of the Pahvans on the planet below, but there was no way he was going to allow this chance to knock out the Klingon flagship slip away from them. He stood at the tactical console with Tyler, Rhys, and Burnham, going over some general scenarios. Technically, Burnham had no business being in the conversation, but she was too much a busybody to resist inserting herself and she did have some useful insights to offer.

Saru arrived on the bridge. "I am ready to return to duty, captain."

Rather than acknowledge Saru's duty status, Lorca pointed to the ready room and left the others to handle the tactical analyses. Inside, the question was immediate: "Exactly what happened on Pahvo?"

"When the present crisis is over, I will provide a full account in my report," promised Saru. "I will accept any disciplinary action you may wish to take as a result."

"No, now."

Saru was genuinely surprised. "Sir, the Klingons inbound—"

"Just because you're cleared by Culber doesn't mean you're cleared by me," said Lorca. Until Starfleet indicated what the reinforcements would be, their current tactical plans were an exercise in battle preparedness, nothing more. "Just keep it brief."

"Captain," said Saru, "I have failed you." And, because he was honest and unafraid of losing, Saru went so far as to admit, "I have failed myself."

"You got hurt, number one, it happens," said Lorca. Except for a resurgence of self-doubt, Saru seemed entirely fine. Kelpiens were tougher than they looked. Lorca took a cookie and pushed the bowl towards Saru.

Saru glanced at it, downcast. "Thank you, but I do not enjoy processed foods."

"It's all I've got," said Lorca with a frown. Saru, like Groves, never ate fortune cookies, rendering Lorca's standard inducement worthless. Lorca recalled the two had another trait in common. "Computer. Green tea, right?"

Saru looked surprised that Lorca had both noticed this and remembered it, but then, Lorca made it a point to know his crew's particulars more than most. "Yes. With salt."

"Green tea with salt." Because Saru also used the ready room on occasion, the tea emerged from the dispenser exactly as Saru liked it. Saru was further surprised when Lorca joined him at the dispenser and took some decaf coffee. It felt like a sympathetic gesture. When they moved back to the desk, Lorca did not retake his place behind it and instead stood in front with Saru. "All right, let's hear it."

"I regret to inform you that while on the planet, I was compromised..." Saru described, in terms both brief and entirely telling, how the Pahvans had initially had a disorienting effect on him, then an intoxicating one as they alleviated all of the instinctual fears Kelpiens lived with. Lorca was honestly impressed to hear this intoxication had driven Saru to turn on Burnham and Tyler and attempt to sabotage the mission out of a mad desire to stay on Pahvo forever.

"Standing up to Burnham's not an easy thing to do," Lorca noted.

"I was not in my right mind when I did so," said Saru.

"Still." Whatever force had possessed Saru, it had likely brought to the surface something in the Kelpien that had been there all along. He offered Saru the fortune from his cookie. "I think you've earned this."

Saru took it and read aloud, "Your place in life is in the driver's seat." He stared at the paper. It was entirely confusing because yet again Saru felt he had proven himself inadequate to the task of being a captain.

Lorca saw things differently. "Report to your post, number one."

The news from Starfleet was not what Lorca expected. Admiral Terral was unimpressed by the news of the Sarcophagus' pending arrival. Terral's holographic projection stood with Lorca in front of the viewscreen on the bridge. He outlined that there would be no reinforcements because to send them would draw the attention of the rest of the Klingon fleet and leave other targets potentially undefended. "We have ordered all active starships back behind Federation lines. Retreat, captain, that is an order."

Clearly, Terral was not understanding this opportunity fully. Lorca attempted to explain it again. "Now with the Ship of the Dead on the way here—"

Terral was unmoved. "Yes, General Kol's next strategic move will be to destroy the transmitter, thus eliminating any chance of the Federation gaining an upper hand. But we cannot risk losing the Discovery over this."

Lorca was equally unmoved. "Need I remind you the Klingons don't take threats lightly? By seeming to align themselves with us, the Pahvans just became one. That ship can and will destroy an entire planet in the blink of an eye."

"Your mission to Pahvo was to give us the advantage we sorely needed," said Terral, his voice cool, but the ice gave way to something hotter as he said, "but that mission failed. We have gathered the top scientific minds to devise a solution to crack the invisibility screens that cloak the Klingon warships within the safety of Federation space. Your crew is to join the effort."

They clearly wanted Mischkelovitz, but that was not the worst part of this, because as Lorca listened to Terral, he could only hear the betrayal of everything the Federation stood for. He could also hear the word "failure" ringing in his head. While the mission had not gone according to plan, it was too soon to call it failure when it had presented such an impressive opportunity. It would only be a failure if they walked away now.

With every ounce of steel he had, Lorca said, "You want me to run from a fight and leave a peaceful species to face annihilation?"

"I'm sorry," said Terral, seemingly oddly empathetic for a moment, and then coldly angry again, "but the logic is clear. You will jump to Starbase 46. Immediately."

And Terral hung up on Lorca.

Lorca's mouth opened and closed. This wasn't happening. This wasn't the Starfleet he knew. This wasn't the Starfleet Burnham espoused herself to be, the Starfleet that had backed his proposal for Discovery to use science rather than brute power to find a way to win, the Starfleet that represented coming together for the greater good. Also, he was the one who hung up on Terral, not the other way around. "Lieutenant Detmer, set a course for Starbase 46. Warp five."

"Yes, captain."

"Sir," said Saru. "The Pahvans are more vulnerable than Admiral Terral could possibly understand. Please, if I could only speak with him and relay my experience with their peace-loving species..."

Lorca strode past Saru. He went to the captain's chair and stood behind it. From this position, he was standing in the heart of the bridge in more ways than one. "At this speed they'll be expected us in three hours at Starbase 46. That's why we're warping and not using the spore drive. I have no intention of reaching our destination. But if you're planning on disobeying a direct order, best not to advertise the fact. So. You all heard the panicked admiral. Starfleet is tired of fighting the Klingon cloaking devices and losing. So am I. We have just under three hours to find a solution. If we can, we jump back, defend Pahvo. If we can't..." He spread his arms wide. The consequences if they failed went entirely without saying. "Let's get to it!"

The bridge immediately rushed to carry out his command.

"Lieutenant Stamets! I'm gonna need some reasonable explanation for Starfleet as to why we're currently not using the spore drive. I understand you had some trouble with your interface upgrades?"

Stamets entirely followed what Lorca was proposing. They were in sync. "Now that you mention it, um... has been a little... itchy." He scratched at the implant on his arm.

"That's unfortunate. Get down to the medical bay, get a full examination."

And then out of sync again, as always. "Is... is that completely necessary, sir?"

"It's obligatory. I want Dr. Culber to run every single test possible. We need the data trail."

They came up with a potential solution.

Under the assumption the Klingon cloak operated using a massive gravitational field, Burnham and Saru proposed deploying sensors aboard the Sarcophagus which would reveal otherwise imperceptible flaws in the cloak from within and enable the creation of a sensor algorithm capable of detecting those specific flaws from outside the cloak.

"There is a problem, though, sir," said Burnham. "It will take time to gather sufficient data."

"How much time?" asked Lorca.

"Days," said Burnham.

Someone had once said when you didn't have enough space, you should look to time, and when there wasn't enough time, then to look for space. They were presently short on time. The answer, therefore, was obvious to Lorca. "Well, we don't have days. But we do have a spore drive."

He went straight to Lab 26. Mischkelovitz had not been paying any attention to events aboard the ship or down on the planet and was surprised and annoyed to learn her frequency modulation had not been carried out as intended. Months of development and all that musical inspiration down the drain. There was no other transmitter that had the properties of the one on Pahvo. Mischkelovitz was further aggravated to learn the reason for all this was apparently her internal nemesis, Michael Burnham.

"Moving on," said Lorca sharply, because they had no time to dwell on this failure and he needed her to focus on the actual problem in front of them right now involving the sensory data. "Can you devise a pattern of jumps that will compensate?"

Mischkelovitz stared at Lorca. Her voice and eyes went dark and wild in that odd way they sometimes did as she intoned, "Patterns are my specialty."

He ignored the urge to shudder at the change. "Then hop to it, doctor, because we need this yesterday."

Mischkelovitz turned to look at Groves, who was in the corner as always. "Rohv-elen, je ma kraht bi'siikraten. Sah tohno chess bakaa'ten."

"Kesbediil," answered Groves with a shrug, putting down his padd. Whatever they were saying, Lorca decided it was potentially a very good sign they were both involved and left them to it. Besides, he almost felt like he understood them this time. Now that he knew the words were somehow meaningless, it felt like the first step to understanding qoryan was to stop focusing on the words entirely and just use the context and tone. In his mind, Mischkelovitz was saying, Rove, I need your help. Stop playing chess. Followed by a response akin to, If I must.

And ten minutes later, a proposal of jumps arrived that would solve all their problems at once. "I can finish the map with this, too," said Mischkelovitz. "That was a really good insight, captain, compensating for the short time frame with vultiple mectors in space."

Lorca smiled. "I do have my moments."

When Lorca sent Stamets down to sickbay to generate a data trail, he had not intended for that bit of subterfuge to bear any fruit. Unfortunately, it had. Culber practically glowered at Lorca as he revealed changes in the structure of Stamets' brain.

Lorca looked at the display. He had no clear concept of what these neurological changes meant. "Have you experienced any side effects of a consequence of that?" he asked, in a voice gentler than Culber ever expected to hear towards Stamets.

Stamets shook his head. "No, captain."

"Well I'm not ready to play roulette with his brain," said Culber.

"Duly noted, doctor. Send the report directly to me."

Culber did not find this acceptable in the slightest. "Captain!"

"To me, doctor, and I shall read it. Lieutenant, follow me."

He shared Mischkelovitz and Groves' jump sequence with Stamets in the ready room.

"You want me to make one hundred and thirty-three jumps?" asked Stamets. Shocked was an understatement.

"Micro-jumps," clarified Lorca. "Each one performed in rapid succession will provide a three-dimensional snapshot of the cloaked Klingon ship's position. The readings will be received from every necessary vector in under four minutes." Three-dimensional snapshot was a Groves contribution. He remained excellent at analogizing science terminology in ways anyone could understand.

Stamets was not completely convinced. "That will give us the data to calculate the algorithm, but... it'll take time to compute something that complex."

"I have faith in Mr. Saru," said Lorca.

"Captain, there has to be another way. You heard—"

"I wish there were." Lorca looked at Stamets with an expression of forlorn sincerity. "I wish I didn't have to ask you to make this sacrifice, but the Klingons won't stop until they've destroyed everything in their path, everyone, and we can't stop them without the spore drive. Without you."

"You're asking us to use the drive in ways we've never conceived of." In ways Stamets had never conceived of, because Stamets only saw part of the picture. "The spore delivery system isn't configured to handle the amount of volume that would be required!"

"And that's gonna stop you?" asked Lorca, moving over behind the desk. The streaks of the warp field shimmered in the window behind him. "I don't think so. I know what drives you. You’re not just a scientist, you're an explorer. You could have stayed in a lab on Earth, but you chose to go where no one has gone before. Let me show you something."

He activated the hologram of the mycelial map.

It was so perfect. All those many possibilities from months ago had been whittled down to one concrete set of coordinate lines. All that was missing were some data points to fill in some lingering gaps.

Stamets approached the display. "You've been accumulating this data from my jumps the whole time?"

"Mm-hm," said Lorca, offering the tiniest little nod of confirmation.

"And these scattered pockets of negative mass, it's... they could indicate alternative parallel universes connected to the mycelial network." There was no misreading the possibility of that now. Mischkelovitz had seen it right from the start and now her map made it obvious for anyone to see. "And with more jumps, we could find a pattern! Perhaps even the coordinates to reach them." Stamets gazed with wide-eyed awe through the map at Lorca.

Lorca moved to join Stamets on the other side so they were looking at the map together, from the same angle. "You showed me this invention could take us to places that we never dreamed we could reach. This is far beyond our preconceptions of time and space."

Finally, Stamets could see it. In their first interactions, he had thought Lorca a bloodthirsty monster come to take his research and pervert it for the purposes of war, but now he could see what had always been the truest part of Lorca, the part that was known to those who knew Lorca best. Jackson Benford had called it the wonderment. Stamets smiled. "Captain, I didn’t know you cared."

"We have to win this war," said Lorca, "but then..." The possibilities were as infinite as the sentiment was open-ended.

Stamets knew how to finish it. "Then the journey continues. If we can save Pahvo, defeat the Klingons, and do all this, one hundred and thirty-three jumps it is."

Part 72

[its-love-u-asshole]

I’ll See You Soon [fic]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Written as an epilogue for Shaking in My Skull. 

It's always said that good things never last, but for them, the statement couldn't be more untrue.

Note: 2nd day entry! I had the sudden inspiration for this verse again, so yay for random epilogues lmao. Thank you to @emeraldwaves for checking this over!

AO3

"This is a rather big favor you're doing for them you know. I'm surprised."

Are you truly?

Despite the words, the tone was calm and pleasant, much like the room around them as they waited. Waited for the next step of a journey, one which Munakata knew wouldn't end, and shouldn't. Maybe that was why he felt the corners of his mouth lift softly, his eyes fixating on the clear depths of water below as the overseer of change sat beside him. Yet Nagare's voice held no criticism, no objections, as Munakata had predicted.

All was as it should be.

Munakata chuckled, his bones and eyes finally feeling the weight of exhaustion brought upon by several centuries at his post. He would rest soon.

Somehow, he'd never dreamed of being okay with this, with retirement, but the knowledge his throne would be well cared for dulled his worry. Perhaps, he thought, a permanent vacation was just what he needed. He closed his misty eyes for a minute, letting the resolve settle slowly into his being, the yoke of hell's guardian falling off his shoulders as if it had fully served its purpose.

Munakata opened his eyes again, though the mistiness was still there, and couldn't help but thank Mikoto for dragging him along to the afterlife by his side. Munakata guessed things did work out how they were supposed to in the end.

Which brings me back to this...

"Favor you say?" He asked with fondness, knowing the truth deep down, just as much as he had that first day, when two determined youths had ventured out on the Return together. "That's where you're wrong."

Nagare said nothing, only pulled away from the pool with a nod of amusement. Yes, he already knew the answer as well, and Munakata gave a fuller laugh this time, letting it echo off the meeting room's walls to blend with Mikoto's heavy breathing behind him as the angel snoozed.

Exactly as thing should be...

After all, favors were kindnesses given beyond the usual.

No, what he was doing...this was precisely what he owed.

--

The sounds of his heart monitor beeping were becoming normal by now, fading into the rolling of stretchers and medicine carts, drowning into the chatter of nurses and doctors alike. For most people it would probably be annoying, maybe ominous or sinister. Not for Yata.

He smiled slowly, his eyes managing to blink without succumbing to tiredness. It was hard, but he wouldn't leave without--

"Misaki..." The voice came from the bed right beside his, weak and barely there, but to him it was as calming as ever, capturing his attention in an instant. Misaki smiled wider, turning his head, though his muscles protested. Whatever, it was worth it.

Despite all the years he'd spent looking and thinking about Saruhiko, seeing his face never got old, no matter how old they actually got.

Misaki chuckled at his own joke, eyes sweeping over the body in the other bed. Saruhiko's hands were still at his side, toil worn and wrinkled, curled in on themselves from a life full of paperwork and overtime. Yata knew if the other stood, his posture would be god awful too, after his countless hours hunched over his computer. Dumbass.

As if sensing his thoughts, Saruhiko squinted at him, the crows feet under his eyes being accentuated by the expression, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Yata laughed, and while it quickly turned into a cough, it didn't make it any less pleasurable. Saruhiko's eyes flashed in amusement, the bright blue hues as vibrant as ever. Beautiful, analytical, piercing. So very Saruhiko.

Yeah, totally worth it.

"Yes?" Yata's voice was hoarse, struggling, and at that moment he figured he must look the same as Saruhiko. Saruhiko, with his rough, sagging skin and white hair, the perfect picture of old age. Funny, Yata never considered his appearance as he grew older, how far they'd come, until now, sitting right on his deathbed.

No doubt he had receding hair just the same, aching joints and bad posture to go with them. He laughed again, feeling unbelievably alive from the realization alone.

Ninety-two years, not bad huh, Saru?

Yata felt his eyes water, and he doubted it was from his body aches. Not bad at all.

Saruhiko licked his dry lips, shaking his head as he glanced up at the ceiling. "Do you think they planned this?"

It took a second for Yata to realize who he was referring to, but when he did, he couldn't help but feel a weird surge of gratefulness. "Probably, knowing them."

"How cheesy."

"Are you complaining?"

Yata felt his heart stutter when Saruhiko smiled at him, probably both from the emotions it elicited, and the fact his time was almost up. His eyelids felt heavy, his thoughts scattered, but when he finally passed, he wanted Saruhiko to be the last thing he saw.

The last face he saw before he died, the first when he opened his eyes.

He didn't doubt Munakata and Mikoto putting this together, not letting Yata spend even a day without Saruhiko. Not to mention the date...

Perfect.

Saruhiko reached a quivering hand across the small space which separated their beds, as if sensing the impending fate as well. Yata gripped it as tightly as he could, keeping it against his chest as his heart pounded and skull shook from the effort of keeping himself alive. Just a bit more...

Saruhiko finally answered him, his voice cracking and fading slowly. "No...I'm..n-not. Misaki..."

The tone was as scolding as it could be, and Yata could nearly hear the implied meaning there. "Idiot, you'll see me soon. Sleep."

Sleep huh...you too Saruhiko...you should sleep...

Yata felt his grip on the other's hand slacken, and he fought against the urge to drop it, using the last of his energy to keep it close to him. As if he'd let Saruhiko pass through a door alone ever again.

Sleep...and I'll be here when you wake up. 

Yata smiled, feeling his vision spin out of use, his lungs giving up as the two monitors in the room went haywire, and the last thing he could make out was Saruhiko's eyes closing, the grip on his hand tightening.

And then there was nothing.

There was silence.

A complete absence of noise.

Still and steady...

.

.

.

Yata Misaki. Age ninety-two, born on July 20th, died on the night of August 14th.

Fushimi Saruhiko. Age ninety-one, born on November 7th, died on the night of August 14th.

.

.

.

Saruhiko opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the blurred edges of walls around him, shining white. Blinding white, giving off the illusion of a never ending hallway. Same as always, he thought.

He was lying on the floor, his limbs frozen like in ice, and he slowly began twitching each finger, working to his arms and legs with practiced ease. The room remained hazy, and without faltering, he reached up, removing his glasses until the room bloomed into clarity. His skin felt smooth, his muscles strong, his body able, as if he hadn't aged a day since he was twenty years old.

The thought made something nostalgic inside him stir, and he wondered why he was surprised in the slightest. He gave an amused smile at the ceiling, reaching up to thread his fingers through his long dark hair, feeling the lack of a receding hairline, basking in the mobility of his joints.

He wondered if this was a gift too, being given back his youth, though he didn't care to question it. He had more important things on his mind, and he turned his head to the side calmly, ignoring the distant paranoia beating in his heart, telling him he'd woken up here alone.

No, he knew better these days.

Misaki's eyes were bright and glowing, as they'd always been. That had never changed, even with age. The amber color warmed Saruhiko to his toes, the love and fierceness he associated with those eyes threatening to melt him on the spot.

Misaki...

The other was staring at him in wonder too, his face youthful, his hair back to the same fiery color as before he hit sixty, and Saruhiko reached forward to run his hands over it, down Misaki's cheeks and lips, like he held the universe in his hands. Well, he sort of did. Misaki was his universe, had helped him build and strengthen his world until it was big enough for them to share.

Saruhiko's fingers settled on the redhead's lips, feeling them lift up into a huge smile, and it was probably that which made Saruhiko lose his control. He surged forward, catching Misaki's lips with his own, the kiss firm and all he'd ever wanted. Somehow, he'd never gotten tired of it.

Misaki pulled away with a snort, but his watery eyes gave his real emotions away. Saruhiko, for once, didn't feel the need to comment, probably because his eyes stung too. "I look that good huh, Saru? No more wrinkles..."

Please...

Their foreheads bumped together as Saruhiko shook his head, reveling in the silence around them, something which had once unsettled him to no end. Now it was a reminder, telling him his time with Misaki would never truly end. "No. You always looked good to me."

Misaki's eyes widened for a brief second, the tears in both their eyes building, before the redhead pushed back on Saruhiko's head with his own. It was all they could think of to deal with the emotions raging between them, and eventually, Saruhiko's tears spilled first. Both of them laughed regardless, no unhappiness or discontent to be found, and they clung onto each other a moment after.

The force of the hug had them falling to the floor again from where they'd sat up, but they didn't mind. Nothing would ruin this.

"I missed you Saruhiko."

"We were apart for a few minutes, tops."

"Doesn't matter," Misaki sniffled. "You idiot."

Saruhiko couldn't feel pain anymore, but he swore he felt his skin sting from how hard Misaki gripped him, and he wouldn't give it up for anything.

I missed you too. I love you.

How silly it was, given how long he'd been apart from Misaki in the past, for months, maybe even years as he faced the unthinkable. Saruhiko shook his head, smiling to himself. Guess it doesn't matter now.

For that point on, they'd get through everything somehow, like they'd always had.

Together.

"Hey Saru," Misaki said, pulling away with a laugh. The redhead reached up to wipe his tears away, a small smirk settling on his face. Saruhiko hummed in response, returning it. "I think we're late."

The statement actually managed to catch Saruhiko off guard for a second, but soon he was rolling his eyes, taking in the plain white room once more. Once late arrivals, always late arrivals, that much was true.

Saruhiko leaned forward, capturing Misaki's lips again in a quick kiss before he heard a door open behind him as if beckoned, and he heard the familiar sound of a cane clicking on the floor.

Saruhiko smiled at Misaki as the redhead offered him his hand, and Saruhiko took it gratefully, ready to face fate's next endeavor.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

[ridiasfangirlings]

GreenShimi Au. He was originally in Homra but went missing, Hisui captured him and brainwashed him, He shows up in S2 and Yata is heart broken, he thought Saru was gone forever but he's here now and can't remember Yata or anyone, Post S2 Saru needs some serious therapy to help him remember and when he does it gets angsty real qucik.

Ooh I like this idea. Like say when LSW happens Munakata and Mikotoboth end up being just a little too late to rescue Fushimi fromHisui, Fushimi’s coerced into joining the Greens instead. Maybe henever figures out the virus either so Fushimi’s still hallucinatingand Hisui uses that to his advantage, Fushimi’s all confused andmessed up because he didn’t really want to leave Yata but he alsofeels like he has no place in Homra and never did and he doesn’t knowif Scepter 4 would accept him so he’s basically stuck with jungle.Hisui plays on his fears and uses the Niki hallucination to convinceFushimi that in fact jungle is the only place for him to be,naturally Hisui values free will and is pleased that Fushimi joinedhim but once that choice has been made Hisui doesn’t intend to letFushimi back out of it either. Fushimi then spends the next coupleyears being slowly brainwashed by the constant hallucinationswhispering in his ear that the only place he can belong is jungle,that the only King he can serve is Hisui, that Homra and Yata willnever accept the person he really is and that his only choice is tostay in jungle and work towards achieving Hisui’s dream. By the timeMissing Kings happens Fushimi’s head has been so messed with that hecan barely remember his time in Homra and or even his time with Yata,like maybe he’s been convinced that all his time with Yata was all ahallucination and that he’s always belonged to jungle and Hisui.

Meanwhile to Homra’s eyes Fushimi’s just disappeared and Yata’sutterly heartbroken. Mikoto, Kusanagi and Totsuka are concerned and abit suspicious about this disappearance, in LSW it seems like theysuspect something might be going on with Fushimi and I think hissudden disappearance would make them very concerned about what couldhave been happening under their noses all this time. Naturally Homraputs all their resources towards finding out anything about whereFushimi went or who could have taken him but they can’t findanything. The last person to see Fushimi was Yata, like in LSWFushimi remains in his apartment to try and figure out who’s messingwith him and they have a small fight, Yata leaves and when he returnshours later, unable to get Fushimi to pick up his PDA when Yata triedto call him, he finds the apartment empty. Nothing’s been touched ormoved though, Fushimi’s computer and PDA are missing but all hisother things are there and the sheets aren’t even disturbed on thebed. Yata of course has all this guilt for leaving Fushimi thatnight, even though everyone tells him that there’s no way he couldhave known what would happen next Yata can’t help but think that ifhe’d only stayed there with Fushimi then maybe he wouldn’t have losthis best friend. Yata never stops looking for Fushimi too, even aftersome of the alphabet boys and the rank and file Homra guys have givenFushimi up for dead Yata refuses to forget about him and is alwaystrying to find any clue as to what could have happened, refusing tobelieve that Fushimi might be dead or gone forever. His worst fearand greatest hope come true at the same time when Kamamoto comesrunning into the bar after Mikoto and Totsuka’s deaths to tell Yatathat Anna’s been kidnapped and the kidnapper looked a lot likeFushimi.

Yata then spends the rest of Missing Kings and ROK trying to bringFushimi back, Fushimi doesn’t even recognize him at first and Hisuiprobably keeps telling him that this is all a trick by Homra, tryingto make him believe he was once one of them. Fushimi keeps havingflashes of the memories he’s forgotten though and he keeps pushingthem away, because he’s already given those memories up ashallucinations of a life he’ll never have. Maybe Yata almost getsthrough to him during like the Mihashira raid and Fushimi opens thedoor to jungle’s hideout all on his own because he’s begun to believethat this isn’t really the place he belongs. He’s accepted that thiswill probably lead to his death and he doesn’t care, it’s not like hehas anywhere else to go anyway. Yata comes to save him though andFushimi kinda breaks down in his arms, his mind a mess and feelinglike he doesn’t even know himself because his memories have been soplayed with and manipulated that he can’t tell what’s real and what’sfake anymore.

Post-ROK Fushimi’s still a mess and requires all kinds on therapy inorder to get him back to something like functional. I imagineMunakata maybe offering Scepter 4’s services here, like maybe he andFushimi also interacted some during ROK and that was part of whathelped Fushimi to realize that his memories of Homra and Yata werereal. Munakata of course always remembered the promising kid fromHomra that he wanted to recruit and he’s still intrigued by Fushimieven now, therefore he offers up all of Scepter 4’s resources to helpFushimi get better. Yata’s suspicious but Munakata notes that theyall owe Fushimi a great debt and he wishes to repay that any way hecan. Kusanagi’s also suspicious but he thinks the important thing nowis to get Fushimi healthy, so he and Awashima work together to getFushimi what help they can. Fushimi’s condition is so intertwinedwith the Kings and clans they’re limited in who can be allowed to seehim and they probably have to coordinate with like the Rabbits orShiro in order to get people in who it will be safe for Fushimi totalk to. Yata visits him continually, at first Fushimi doesn’t wantto see him at all because there’s too much pain and confusion therebut slowly he and Yata start to rekindle their lost friendship.Fushimi probably has a lot of low points, like he hates that he wasmanipulated so easily and he thinks that he’s a failure because hecouldn’t even die defeating jungle and had to be saved like somepathetic victim. Yata gets pissed whenever Fushimi says that though,the fact that Fushimi’s alive is still the most important thing inthe world to Yata and he doesn’t care who Fushimi’s been working foror what he’s done, Yata just wants Fushimi to become whole and happyagain.