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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

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The Lovers’ Plum

Category: Romantic Drama

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Supernatural AU; Feudal Japan AU

Hello, everyone! It’s my pleasure to present the story I wrote for the @bokunoyokaibang, “The Lovers’ Plum”! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please go give some love to my talented partner, @malware-incorporated, who illustrated the story for me!

The Coming of the Plum Tree Spirit

The early afternoon breeze rustled the thin branches of the solitary plum tree, filling the air with a dull clattering as the sticks clacked against one another. The tiny limbs were laden with small pink buds; as the wind washed over them, their silken petals were plucked hence, wafting over the light winds before spiraling down to the emerald grass below. The lone plant stood sentinel atop a gently sloped hill overlooking the clustering huts of a humble Japanese fishing settlement three days’ ride from Edo. Its voluminous bulk had overseen the gushing river since before man had ventured to its shores, and if luck be true, would behold its gentle majesty for many moons to come. Many cycles it had lived, turning pink with blossom and green with fruit and naked with winter’s cold. In an odd twist of fate, it had also born witness to a particular phenomenon of humans- burgeoning love.

Springtime often brought them forth to plead beneath the plum tree. Young girls, and even boys from time to time, hiked the well-worn path from the outskirts of the village to the plum tree’s throne, where they would kneel and clasp their hands in prayer. With tears blossoming in the corners of their entreating eyes, they would implore the ancient being for good fortune in their romantic endeavors. No one was quite sure how the sacred ritual began; humans were notorious for the spontaneous creation of folktales and legends, however. Perhaps one spirited little mind dreamt of a doomed romance beneath the fruit-laden branches, and myth watered its roots, turning the quaint plum tree into a being mystical and divine. Of course, a plum tree is but a plum tree; that is, until it isn’t.

The plum tree spirit, who knew not of the conventions of calendars and days in the early stages of her life, could not say when she had blinked into existence. One fine morning where the birds hopped about the tree’s branches to feast on its ripe purple-red fruits, she had simply blinked awake. Contained within the thick trunk of the tree, she gazed upon the world with fresh new eyes and beheld the majesty of the earth. She ventured out, pale and naked, to touch to grass blades to find them remarkably soft, and to chase the butterflies flitting over the wildflowers. She gasped in delight as the wispy white seeds scattered at her steps, taking to the wind to float away into the wild blue yonder and hopefully take root. The sun was warm on her skin, and the breeze gentle through her chestnut hair. The sky above blazed in resplendent blue, stained by the puffy masses of white clouds.

The plum tree spirit, though she knew not, was a minor god brought forth by the supplicant prayers of hopeful youths.

The newborn spirit spent the first few days of her life playing amongst the wild grasses and flowers, growing bolder day by day. She greeted the mother doe and her fumbling fawn, running ethereal fingers over the spotted fur. She hopped with a tawny spotted rabbit through the golden forest grass and delighted at the yellow tufts that tickled her cheeks and nose. She curled beneath the sprawling blanket of the plum tree’s fruit-laden branches, nibbling at the succulent fruit and admiring the light playing through the emerald leaves. She even crept through the bushes along the small trail to catch glimpses of the thatch-and-wood houses and their residents, who hauled baskets laden with trout and shellfish from the river. Upon her first glimpse of them, the new god realized her corporeal form resembled the female humans’; however, they did not roam about uncovered like she. She studied the strange garments they cloaked themselves with and found that if she simply willed it into being, the cloth materialized and draped over her body. A kimono, they called it. The plum tree spirit imbued it with a lovely pink hue, the exact shade of her tree’s vivid petals.

The humans were like her in body, but the tree spirit knew that she was not human. As she lounged beneath the tree watching the sun sink below the horizon each day, she could not help but wonder what kind of being that she was, and why she was there. She had attempted to speak to the trees along the path, the black pines and red pines and white pines, but they were hollow and voiceless. It seemed that she was alone in this vast full world, a unique and singular existence.

The first days of her life were thus, though filled with the wonder of novelty, extraordinarily lonely.

The Coming of Her Purpose

The plum tree spirit awoke to the sound of hushed giggles. She had discovered that unless she desired it, humans could not see her; up until that point, she had rendered herself invisible, for she knew not how they would react to her sudden presence. The newborn deity peered through the skinny branches of her birth tree to see three human girls scampering up the path. The young god was delighted at their appearance, for perhaps their visit would provide insight into her anomalous presence. Curiously, she watched the girl in front, a beautiful woman with fluffy black hair pinned atop her head, kneel on the ground before the plum tree, and clasp her hands together tightly.

“O, great plum tree that has stood since time immemorial,” the villager announced loudly, “I humbly beseech thee to grant my wish.” The spirit’s ears perked. Wishes? Do I exist to grant the wishes of humans? The god stared at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn’t fathom possessing an inherent power to grant the prayers of mortals. Yet, if I exist for this purpose, I must try, she frowned. The girl’s black eyes bored into the cocoa-brown bark of the plum tree with a desperate intensity. “Please, O Goddess of the Lovers’ Plum, please bring me fair fortune!”

One of the girls behind her, a stoic one with short purple-black hair, frowned sardonically.

“Momo, you don’t really believe that nonsense that praying to the plum tree will lead to you meeting your future lover in seven days, right?” she sighed with a shake of her head, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s just an old folktale. I can’t believe you dragged me up here for this…”

“Hush, Kyoka!” the praying girl, evidently named Momo, hissed with an affronted glance over her shoulder. “You’ll anger the spirit, and she won’t grant my wish!” Kyoko’s dissidence indeed angered the tree spirit. Still, she would not spurn the willful young lady for that. Instead, the youthful god grinned and sent a plum falling from the branches above her head. Kyoka yelped as the fruit slammed into her scalp. The plum burst open to spill sticky juice and yellow flesh into her hair. She whined miserably as it dripped onto the white fabric of her kimono. The other companion, a smiling young lady with hair pink like carnations, laughed mirthfully.

“You see, Kyoka? You’ve angered the goddess!”

“Shut up, Mina,” Kyoka growled and disdainfully brushed the clumps of fruit from her head and shoulders. The tree spirit giggled mischievously and returned her attention to the prostrate girl. She had rested her hands on her lap and was staring miserably at the earth. Invisible to their eyes, the young god knelt beside her, staring intently at her forlorn expression. She had realized that humans experienced a phenomenon known as “emotions,” and this one was akin to sadness.

“… I am but a humble seamstress,” Momo lamented woefully. “I beg my father to allow us to travel to Edo and take up shop there so that we may live a better life, but he is adamant we remain by the river. Our family has always resided here, from the time of his grandfather’s grandfather.” Her eyes became lidded as her bottom lip wobbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and the tree spirit brushed them away with her fingertips, though the girl likely dismissed it as a mere kiss from the breeze. The god marveled at the glistening tear decorating her finger, a bead of water like dew. She tasted it and then spat it out, finding it to be unbearably salty.

“I wish to meet a man who can spirit me far away from this miserable land!” Momo cried and laid the back of her hand to her forehead in misery. “I wish to see grand things, and sell fine silks to lords and ladies, and live a life of plenty and comfort… Not scrounge for scraps on the shores of a river,” she complained bitterly. The tree spirit was unsure why such a living was undesirable to a human, but then, many of their ways were foreign to her.

“Momo, we have to get going,” Kyoka frowned and glanced down the path leading back to the settlement. “Your mother will be looking for you to mind the shop.”

“Yes, yes,” Momo sighed and rose, brushing the dirt from the fabric covering her knees. The tree spirit hurriedly jumped to her feet, wracking her brain for a manner in which to grant the wish. She elected to follow her instincts.

“Your prayer has been heard, and I grant you my blessing. Go forth and may love find you quickly,” the young god recited and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Momo’s forehead. The girl could not see or hear her, but yet, she blushed slightly and ran her fingertips over the skin there.

“I feel like the goddess heard me,” Momo remarked joyfully to her friends as she trounced over to them. Mina grabbed her arm excitedly and beamed, while Kyoka rolled her eyes but smiled. The spirit watched them meander back down the trail; soon, their avid discussion of young love and hope faded into the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. She then smiled and squealed and jumped up and down with glee.

At last, the tree spirit knew her purpose.

The tree spirit took to her newfound mission with fervor. Many came to pray to the tree for fair fortune. The god was delighted to find that young Momo had met a fisherman who traveled the length of the river to sell iron-forged weapons seven days after her appeal, and the two fell madly in love. She had immigrated to Edo and now sold hand-crafted kimonos to all manners of folk. The god only had a rudimentary understanding of love, but she could comprehend that love made the humans happy. Summer passed into winter, which moved into the spring. Nine months after she had come into being, the naïve but kind-hearted god met the human who would teach her what it truly meant to love another.

The Coming of Katsuki Bakugo

It was the height of May. The tree spirit had learned the calendar year through her furtive observations of the humans. The air simmered with the sun’s blazing heat, so the tree spirit cooled herself beneath the shady sprawl of her home tree, humming a tune she had learned by watching a washerwoman. She perked up when she heard the unmistakable crunch of sandals upon hard, dried dirt. Sitting up straight and tucking her legs underneath her body, she patiently awaited the arrival of her latest patron. She cocked her head slightly when the muscular form of a man tromped around the corner.

He reminded her of the fishermen- toned and lean, with powerful, thick thighs and bulging arms. He was not dressed in the garb of fishermen, however. The boatmen wore light fabrics that covered their entire body to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays, while this man wore a yukata of thick maroon cloth, with no sleeves and a hem that reached only to his knees. A red-and-white woven rope wound around his forehead. The fishermen were quite a merry bunch, as well, with smiles always alighting their faces and bawdy songs spilling from their lungs, but this human greeted the invisible goddess with a moody scowl. She fidgeted before him, wondering what could cause such irritation.

He stopped in front of the plum tree and gave it a brief once-over. He then snorted and flopped down on his side underneath its shady leaves, holding a hand to his mouth as he yawned. The god observed him fascinatedly, for no human had ever behaved in such a manner before.

“Goddess of the tree or whatever you are,” he droned disinterestedly, “I hope you don’t mind if I take a nap here. It’s hot as shit today.” The little god flushed, recognizing his language as coarse. She inspected him closer to find his brown skin sheened with sweat, and his hands calloused from toil. So he is a laborer, she concluded. She was a goddess and was thus charged with the care of humans, so she supposed allowing the worker to shelter beneath her birth tree was acceptable. She frowned, wishing the plums were in season so she could grant him some fruit to eat. It mattered not, for he was already snoring, resting his head against his arm. The plum tree spirit smiled and stroked his back soothingly.

“Sleep well beneath my blossoms, human man, and recover your strength. I bless you with good fortune in your future endeavors.” She knew he could not hear her, but she fancied he did, because he grunted in his sleep. As he slept beneath her branches, the god observed him critically. He was quite handsome, for a human, with chiseled rugged features and ash-blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant vermilion like the wild red roses that grew along the hill path. She wondered if he did not need to pray for love, because surely such a beautiful human man would be popular among young ladies.

The young man rested for about an hour, until the sun had passed its height to begin its slow descent. He likely would have slept for longer, had it not been for the angry shouting that floated up the hill. The tree spirit straightened up, peering into the greenery as the cursing and yelling grew louder. The human man groaned and scowling, cracking one of his red eyes open to glare reproachfully at the small gap in the bushes that marked the entrance to the hilltop. A man dressed in similar garb, only green, charged through the brambles, red-faced and chest heaving.

“Katsuki Bakugo! What the hell are you doing up here, lounging like a house cat?! You had seventeen orders to fill today!” the angry human scolded. The vermilion-eyed laborer, whom the goddess now knew as Katsuki, scowled condescendingly.

“I filled them, so I came up here to take a nap. Tell me, old man, how much time have you wasted looking for me when you could have been bartering with the tradesmen on the river?” Katsuki remarked and studied the cuticles of his nails. The tree spirit held a hand to her mouth, appalled by the level of disrespect. From what she understood, Katsuki was subservient to this new man, and therefore ought to treat him with honor and dignity. His words carried the tone of anything but. Katsuki sneered as his superior could only sputter and turn the color of a tomato. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re so lucky you’re Mitsuki’s son, or I would fire you in an instant!” the man fumed and stamped his foot. Katsuki frowned and stared unapprovingly up at him. “I owe a life debt to your mother and offer you a place in my business, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off after you do the bare minimum?!”

“All right, all right, old man, you’re gonna bust my eardrum,” Katsuki grimaced, digging a finger deep into one of his ear canals. Leisurely, he lifted himself into a sitting position. “If you wanted me to stay in the shop to pick up the slack of those other extras, you shoulda said so.” The man growled and pointed a bright red finger at Katsuki but decided that further argument was worthless. He whirled on his heel to tromp back down the pathway, while Katsuki laughed mischievously and shouted after him, “I’m gonna inherit your business one day, you old fart! Watch me!” The plum tree spirit was baffled by the entire exchange, but yet, she could not help but find the spirited young human captivating.

“Bah. Old asshole,” Katsuki huffed and rubbed the short hairs at the base of his neck while he climbed to his feet. He made to begin walking, but then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The goddess would have been directly within his line of sight if he could see her. “… Thank you for allowing me to rest here,” he said with a slight bow.

Then he was gone, stomping off into the bushes. The spirit craned her head to watch the ash-blond tufts of his hair vanish amongst the green. After he melted into the wilderness, she reclined against the thin trunk of the plum tree with a small smile. What an interesting human, she thought jubilantly. I wonder if I shall ever see him again.

The Coming of Ochako

Ironically enough, Katsuki Bakugo did return the following day- and the next and the next, every day for more than the plum tree spirit could keep count. He would always come to snooze the height of the afternoon away, and then be hauled off by his disgruntled boss. Without fail, Katsuki would thank her for graciously sheltering him from the heat. The young goddess soon looked forward to his coming every afternoon- and began to muster up the courage to appear before a human for the first time.

The blossoms had born fruit, and emerald leaves had sprouted by the time she made her move. He came just as he came every day, sauntering up the path to toss himself to the ground unceremoniously. This time, she hovered behind the skinny tree trunk, peering through the small bough to watch him march up the hill. I must be brave! I must make myself known to this human, she told herself. She hovered behind the plum tree, her pink kimono ruffling in the summer breeze, and held her breath as his ash-blond hair appeared above the fringe of the tall bushes. His bulky form soon followed. When his red eyes landed on her, he froze mid-step.

“I, um,” he stammered with an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. He pointed quickly down the path. “I can come back later; no one usually comes to pray at this time…”

“No, no!” she squeaked, scurrying out from her hiding spot as he began to turn. “Please stay. I’m not praying here.” His expression grew even more confused, but he obediently remained rooted to the spot. Flushing, the plum tree spirit bowed low. “I am the spirit of the plum tree. I have much desired to meet you formally.” She peeked between the chestnut waves of her locks to witness his reaction. His mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and those vermilion eyes beheld her in wonder.

He then began to cackle with loud laughter.

“Bahahahaha! What a joke!” he howled. She straightened up with knitted eyebrows as he sniggered uncontrollably. He held his belly and doubled over, tears dripping from his blond lashes as his entire body shook. “My dickhead of a boss musta put you up to this. How much did he pay you, huh? Plum tree spirit… Pffft, as if!”

“How dare you!” she fumed. She balled up her fists and stamped her feet angrily. The branches of the plum tree began to writhe and quiver despite there being no gale, and the purple fruits started to plummet to the earth. They burst open in showers of gold, scattering their large pods. “I really am the spirit of the plum tree! What a rude human you are, to belittle me when I have allowed you to sleep under my protection for weeks now!” The shadows of the plum tree began to grow blacker and stretch with a dark malice. Katsuki yelped and began to back-pedal; he tripped over his own feet and landed on his rump.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” he protested, waving his hands in surrender as he regarded her with a frightened expression. “It’s just- I don’t- you don’t look like a god.”

“Well, a god I am, so you shall respect me as such!” she huffed and crossed her arms. However, she was satisfied with his acknowledgment, so she relaxed. The plum tree returned to normal, though the sickly-sweet aroma of plums now hung in the air. She regarded the busted fruit with a frown. It would not go to waste, as the birds and beasts would feast upon the succulent flesh, but it was still a shame to make a mess of the place. Katsuki slowly sat up, still gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe.

“What’s your name?”

“Name? I do not have one,” she answered, pressing her finger to her lips. “I was not given one. I am simply the spirit of the plum tree.”

“That’s a mouthful,” he snorted. He seemed more at ease now; he was sitting on his haunches, with his legs drawn up and his muscular arms draped over his knees. He pondered for a moment, then smirked. “How about ‘Ochako’? Does that please you, Miss Goddess?” His tone was teasing, but his smirk made her heart race for a reason other than ire. She shuffled her feet and wrung the fold of her kimono nervously.

“O-ochako will do just fine.”

“Ochako, then. My name’s Katsuki.” Ochako supposed she could reply that she was very much aware, but it was customary for humans to introduce themselves, so she refrained. “I make fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” she inquired. In all her time observing the humans, she had not heard such a term. His face visibly brightened at her ignorance.

“Yeah, fireworks! They’re made by combining gunpowder with dyes and other compounds. Then you light them with fire, and they shoot up into the sky to explode into a huge blast of color!” he grinned, gesturing with his hands. Ochako’s brown eyes widened with wonder. Even with his description, she could not imagine such a magnificent display. He leaned back on his hands and smiled warmly at her. “I sailed in with the old man from Edo. Every year, this little backwater village holds a festival to celebrate the river god. It draws in people from all over the country, surprisingly. Me and the old man sail here in May to prepare, and trade with the locals, too, and then in August, we launch all the fireworks to honor the god.” He paused with a frown. “You’re a god here, so surely you must have seen it?” he frowned. Ochako shook her head.

“No. I was born only last summer, very late.” she frowned. “There are many things of this world that I have yet to know and see…” Katsuki grimaced and regarded her curiously.

“How were you born?”

“I am not entirely sure, but I believe I came from the wishes of the locals,” she said with a glance of the plum-laden tree. She smiled wistfully, thinking back to her first prayer, Momo the seamstress. “I came from the hope in their hearts to help grant them fortune in the endeavors of true love. I am not sure if I possess any real power, but I give them my blessing, all the same.” She glanced back at him with a light laugh. “Truth be told, when you first climbed this hill, I thought that you were coming to pray, not sleep!” Katsuki blushed and shifted a little on the ground. “But you are such a handsome human, so surely you don’t need my blessings. I am sure you already have a fine wife.” His face turned the color of her kimono, and he looked away with a pout. Ochako raised her eyebrows. “Am I mistaken…?”

“Yup. Don’t really have time for a woman. We travel all throughout Japan sellin’ fireworks and all. Not too many gals are willin’ to live a life like that,” he said quietly. Ochako detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. Expression concerned, she walked over to kneel beside him, tucking her kimono under her calves.

“Would you like me to give you my blessing?”

“Nah,” he laughed and smiled confidently at her. “I just came here to nap.” Ochako giggled, holding her hand to her mouth like she often saw the refined ladies that sometimes sailed into the village did.

“Very well. I can grant that wish.” She rose and gestured to the circle of shade surrounding the plum tree. Katsuki followed her over, and she knelt once more, then patted the plush of her thighs. He raised a hesitant eyebrow. “It’s all right. I’m sure I am much more comfortable than the ground.” Slowly, he eased himself onto his back perpendicular to her seated form and rested the back of his head on her lap. He wiggled a little to get himself comfortable, then relaxed his hands on his stomach, fingers laced together. His brilliant red eyes sparkled like rubies as they gazed attentively up at her.

“Have you really been alone up here all this time?” he asked her quietly. Ochako blinked, then smiled sweetly and looked out into the quaint little wood surrounding the hill.

“Yes. I am the only one here,” Ochako confirmed, “but it’s all right. I am blessed with the smiles of my patrons and the living creatures of the wood. It may be a solitary life, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It is a fulfilling existence to bring others happiness. I may be but a minor god, but that is my charge. I will accept that role readily.” She glanced down at him to find him smiling kindly.

“When fall comes, and I sail off, I’ll tell everyone about Ochako the Plum Tree Goddess. Soon you’ll be known far and wide, and a shrine will be built in your honor.” Ochako beamed at that, visions of a sparkling and well-tended shrine with mikos blooming in her imagination.

“That would be lovely,” she agreed with a nod. “But until then, I shall be content if you but visit me.” Katsuki laughed.

“Yeah, okay, Ochako.” His red irises vanished beneath his closing eyelids. His breathing soon became deep and unlabored. Ochako smiled benignly and stroked his forehead, admiring the softness of his fluffy blond hair.

Yes, she thought blissfully, just keep resting here beneath my boughs, and I shall never be alone.

The Coming of a Goddess’ Love

As promised, Katsuki returned to the Lovers’ Plum every day to speak with Ochako. They sat side-by-side against the thin trunk, and he regaled her with the many, many wonders of the human world. Ochako learned more listening to Katsuki than in her year of secretly observing the humans. She was delighted to learn that they were a very innovative breed, creating a plethora of remarkable tools and novelties. Their creativity and ingenuity were unmatched by any being on this earth.

However, she was also saddened to learn that humans could also be devastatingly violent. Katsuki told her of roving bands of rogues who pillaged farmsteads, of great wars waged between immense hosts of forces, of the seeds of evil that germinated within individuals and caused them to steal and murder and rape. Ochako surmised that it was merely the balance of nature, as light cannot exist without an equal dark, but regardless it still depressed her. Humans were such charming beings. She hated that within them festered the tendencies for destruction.

As June passed into July, the air grew warmer- as did their relationship. They took to wandering the woods, admiring the fanciful splendors of the natural world. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a vast field of wildflowers- a colorful rainbow as far as the eye could see. Ochako squealed and dove into the blanket of petals, watching as her movements sprung them from their confines, and they raced away on the wind. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling their softness, and her eyes beheld fluttering butterflies and bobbling bumblebees gathering the pollen and feasting on the nectar. When she turned to invite Katsuki into the magical field, he was already right there, tucking a bloom behind her ear and giving her a smile that made her heart race in a manner she had never felt.

“Ochako,” he breathed with a gentle look.

“Yes?”

“You’re beautiful.” His fingers took a swathe of her soft brown hair, his thumb stroking along the strands. She flushed and held a hand to her cheek; she was unable to look at him for her bashfulness. He seemed not to mind her lack of response, for he continued to gaze at her with that smoldering warmth that sent unbridled joy pulsing through her body.

From that day forth, Ochako looked forward to his coming with an overwhelming rapture. One day, at the tail end of July, Katsuki posed the notion of venturing into the village.

“I’m not sure, Katsuki,” she frowned, kneeling amongst the roots of the tree. The fruits were growing overripe and falling from the branches, leaving the grasses sticky and coated with the golden juice. Birds and beasts scrounged for the mushy flesh and seed pods left behind in the fruits’ fermentation. “You are the only human I have ever revealed myself to.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you’re a god,” he reassured. “Please. I want to enjoy more than just a measly hour or two with you.” Ochako flushed at that, fidgeting as that incredible joy wrapped around her heart like ribbon. Curling a piece of her hair around her finger, she pondered the suggestion. I suppose it’s all right, as long as I pretend that I am human. Thus, she agreed, and Katsuki promised to retrieve her that afternoon around sunset.

After he bid her farewell, Ochako experienced true impatience for the first time. She restlessly paced the small area around her plum tree, and even fidgeted distractedly during the few prayers she granted. The sun seemed to mock her by inching along the blue expanse, refusing to go at a pace more than a snail’s crawl. That was actually one way in which Ochako occupied herself- by watching one of the shelled creatures slide along a large grass blade. When it reached the summit, bending the grass blade under its heavy weight, it wiggled its antenna and pondered its next move. It turned around and began slinking down the way it came.

After what seemed a life age, the blue sky began to bleed with red and orange and gold. The sun melted behind the collection of houses hugging the river. One by one, the settlement’s torches blazed to life, illuminating the area with flickering fire. The thatch roofs caught the sunlight to burn gold, and the few glimpses of the water Ochako could catch from her high perch revealed the river to be sparkling like the stars.

“Katsuki!” Ochako squealed when he came traipsing through the bushes. She rushed to him, beaming, and he affectionately ruffled her bouncy brown hair. She crooned in delight and nuzzled into his palm. Though it was roughened by much toil, it still felt nice when he caressed her.

“Ready?” he asked with an endearing smile. Ochako nodded ecstatically. “Let’s go, then.” She blushed bright pink when he offered her his hand. From the way the village girls talked, holding hands was a romantic gesture, at least within humans their age range. Ochako gulped and timidly reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers slid alongside his like a mechanism locking into place- naturally. His hand was so warm, and the calloused skin felt pleasurable against her soft palm. Her heart jumped in her throat as he allowed their arms to fall loosely between them, and they swung slightly with every step they took down the path. As the buildings grew larger and larger, she found herself pressing into his hefty frame, as if he could shield her from the unknown.

The village rang with noise, even at night.

The air hummed with pleasant conversation. The denizens lounged on their porches to enjoy the warm summer evening, smoking on pipes and sharing bottles of sake. Children squealed as they chased fireflies in their yards or bounced rubber balls with sticks or wrestled with dogs in the mud. The grass gave way to wooden walkways that connected the houses and extended onto the river, where the fishermen moored their boats. With the coming of night, they had ventured in from the water and were clustered around barrels, laughing raucously as they bet on cards or shogi games. Every once in a while, they would get heated and start brawling, only to tumble into the river and come up laughing. The glow from the braziers cast a warm red glow on everything that complimented the natural light of the full moon above. Ochako’s head swiveled on her neck as she attempted to absorb every detail of the humans’ lives as she could. Katsuki watched her with an amused smirk.

“Here’s where I work,” he announced when they had ventured deep into the waterfront settlement. It was a large building set back from the water. It was open to the air, with only a sloped roof to shield it from the elements. Smoke poured from within, and Ochako’s nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of earthy minerals. “Would you like to see the fireworks?” Ochako nodded eagerly; she had been much enthralled with the human device since their first meeting. Katsuki chuckled and brought her inside.

“Eijirou!” he called as he lifted the cloth flap that served as a door, though large open windows framed either side of it. Large tables stretched throughout the space and were laden with a variety of objects Ochako knew not the name for. A redheaded man came trotting out of the gloom, wiping his hands on a cloth with soot staining his smiling face.

“Hey, Katsuki! Comin’ to burn the midnight oil? We still have a lot to do before the River God Festival.”

“Hell no,” Katsuki snorted derisively. He raised his arm to reveal Ochako, who was hiding behind his massive bulk and peering shyly around his ribs at the newcomer Eijirou. “I came to show her around.”

“Oh, is that so? So, you’re the girl Katsuki’s been sneaking off to see every afternoon,” the redhead grinned with a playful wink. Ochako’s cheeks brightened as she peeked up at Katsuki. Does he talk about me? Katsuki tched and gave Eijirou a dismissive wave, but from the delighted twinkle in his red eyes, Ochako could tell that Katsuki looked upon the other fondly. She gulped and snuck further behind Katsuki’s back as Eijirou approached. He gripped his chin and stepped around the blond to inspect her critically. She pressed her face into Katsuki’s back, peering bashfully at him through the gap in her brown hair. “Well, no wonder our Katsuki is so smitten. You sure are a cutie!”

“Oi! Go make yourself useful, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled and shoved Eijirou in the shoulder.

“Hey now, hey now, I’m not intruding,” the redhead smirked and pranced away. “I’m just stating facts, that’s all~!” With a giddy laugh, Eijirou made himself busy assembling the fireworks. Curious now, Ochako peeled herself away from the man to ease over. She froze when Eijirou glanced out of his peripheral vision at her, but he only smiled and continued about his business. She crept up to the table, craning her neck to observe the process. He was loading a multitude of grainy particles into a tube, then capping them with a conical shape. A large pile of them already sat on the edge of the table, hued in blues and greens and reds. She poked one experimentally, then tugged at the black strings on the end.

“Careful,” Katsuki warned and gently pulled her fingers away. “Those are the fuses. We light them to shoot them off. Wouldn’t want these exploding down here,” he smiled gently.

“Yeah, the boss’d really kill you then,” Eijirou snickered. Katsuki scowled and stuck out his tongue at him.

“That old man won’t do shit because he’s too busy pining after my old lady.”

“Yeah,” Eijirou laughed, “your mom sure has fun letting him cling to her skirts. You know he bought her a real ruby hairpin the other day? Are you sure your mom isn’t actually-”

“Hey, you watch it,” Katsuki warned and jabbed a finger into his chest. “My mom would never cheat on my old man with that greasy old fart.” Eijirou laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

“All right, all right, I was just kidding.” Katsuki snorted and grabbed Ochako by her elbow to gently lead her out of the fireworks shop. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder and gave Eijirou a wave of farewell.

“Tch. Shitty smiling jerk,” Katsuki grumbled.

“He seems like a good friend,” Ochako smiled. Katsuki blushed, then shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s all right. He makes work a hell of a lot less boring.” Ochako snickered at his reluctance to admit his fondness for the boy. It was a very Katsuki thing to do.

They continued to wander the township, eventually arriving upon a stall selling jeweled accessories. Ochako had always admired the hairpins some of the young girls wore when they ventured up to her plum tree and had secretly yearned for a pretty adornment. She released Katsuki’s hand to scamper over to the stall. She cooed over a bright pink one inlaid with round pink gems and styled in the likeness of a plum blossom. The aged man operating the booth smiled kindly.

“Ah, yes. That’s a popular model. The young girls around here fancy it as homage to the Lovers’ Plum.” Ochako blushed as she was unintentionally praised. She held up the hairpin, admiring the way the moonlight played over the crystalline gems. Ochako knew that such items required money to acquire, however, and as a goddess with no human trade, she possessed no funds. A bit blue, she set the hairpin down on the counter- only for Katsuki to throw down a handful of bills.

“That should cover it, right, old man?” The stall tender pursed his lips and leafed through the wad of cash, handing a few of them back to Katsuki before pushing the hairpin towards Ochako.

“Katsuki, you didn’t have to-” He shushed her and picked up the hairpin. Her eyes widened as he tenderly pushed the accessory into her curling brown hair, pinning the gorgeous flower right above her ear. His hand fell so that his fingertips brushed over her cheekbone, spreading a pink haze in its wake. The pads of his fingers traveled to her mouth, resting over her lips.

“Beautiful.”

It was in that moment that Ochako the plum tree spirit realized that she was head-over-heels in love with the human Katsuki Bakugo.

The Coming of the Colorful Night

A delighted smile graced Ochako’s lips as she admired her reflection in the rain puddle. The flower hairpin glimmered in the sunlight, accenting the rosy blush ever-present in her youthful cheeks. She sighed dreamily and laid on her belly in the damp grass, kicking her feet over her back. She imagined the smirking personage of Katsuki in the water, and the way he smiled so affectionately at her that night. She whispered his name, and just that small action sent tingles of joy flooding through her nerves. With a squeal, she clutched her beating heart and rolled over.

At last, I know what it means to be in love!

It was a wonderful feeling. Ochako knew now why the humans so desperately sought its graces. Her soul felt like it was continually floating on air, giving her a blissful weightless sensation. Her face ached from incessantly smiling, but it was a good ache. She could occupy her mind for hours reminiscing of their many ventures. She sighed wistfully again and watched the breeze toss about the emerald leaves of her tree. The golden light was filtering through, dappling her body with shadow.

Unfortunately, Katsuki would not be visiting today. It was the afternoon of the River God Festival, and the shop owner had insisted on his presence. However, Katsuki did promise to collect her near sundown so that they could watch the fireworks together. When she had inquired if that would anger his boss, he haughtily replied that he didn’t much care. The sun was sinking through the sky, drawing ever closer to the horizon, and Ochako was awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

Tonight, I am going to tell him that I love him!

She rolled onto her belly and watched a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass. Resting her cheek on her forearm and smiling blissfully, she fantasized about her impending confession. Surely, Katsuki loved her as well; she was not ignorant of the way he looked at her. He actively sought out her presence and often called her beautiful or gorgeous, and he always held her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. Then that look in his eyes- that look like he was beholding the most sublime creature on earth, one that held his entire body and soul. If that was not love, then Ochako didn’t know what was.

She hopped to her feet when she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Hey, Ochako,” Katsuki beamed when she jumped up to scuttle over to him. She threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her nose into his sternum and breathing in the strong scent of sulfur and gunpowder that clung to him. She had grown used to the odor and now found it very soothing. His strong arms surrounded her in a returned embrace, and he pressed his face into the top of her head. “Are you ready?” She nodded ecstatically and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Let’s go, hurry so that we can find a good spot!” she demanded and tore away from him to start running down the path. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked back. When she looked at him confusedly, he gestured to the plum tree. “We’ll be able to see them from here?” she asked and looked down the path again, unsure.

“I promise. After all, all we only need to see the sky,” Katsuki said and pointed above their heads. Ochako looked up with a frown. The sky above the plum tree was remarkably clear and wide, not tainted by the light of the township below. Ochako elected to take him at his word, and they tromped over to the tree, sitting at its base. Their sides pressed together, and Katsuki kept their hands linked, running the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand. It made jolts of electricity travel up her arm, but she loved the feeling.

The sun slowly sank into the river, and the watchful night closed in. One by one, the stars blinked into existence, sparkling like gems in the vast expanse of the blue-black sky. The crescent moon hung low, bathing the world in just enough of its glow to cast long black shadows. The gloom enveloped Ochako and Katsuki like a blanket. Even in the darkness, his ruby eyes glimmered as they flickered to her. His smile curled on his lips, but when she went to speak, he put a finger to his mouth and gestured upwards with his chin.

There was a sound like a shriek, and then a resounding pop. Ochako jumped at the sudden noise, but it was soon forgotten as color exploded against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Ruby-red sparkles filled the air, spreading like tree roots across the blackness before fizzling out. More shrieks sounded in the distance, and the sky came alive with more color than Ochako had ever seen. Her mouth hung open as she gawked shamelessly at the splendorous display unfolding before her.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yeah. It sure is.” She glanced at him to find him staring right at her. That sweet smile like she was the thing dearest to him graced his lips, and his vermilion eyes glimmered with a roaring flame no water could ever douse. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage as his gaze dropped down to her lips. She gulped slightly, digging her fingers into the fabric of her kimono, as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek. “Ochako,” he breathed. His thumb traced a trail across her cheekbone in repetitive caresses. She watched with lidded eyes as the colors played across his face, dull glows of red and blue and green and gold kaleidoscoping in a beautiful array. His face edged closer, and her eyes fell closed in anticipation.

His lips molded over hers like the sweetest honey. Ochako’s chest swelled with a deep inhale at the wondrous feeling. It felt like she had long been lost, and she had finally returned home. She pushed into the kiss, desperate for more contact, and her hands jumped forward to splay across his chest. His hand pushed into her hair to grip the back of her head and angle it, kissing her with more fervor. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Ochako no longer thought them magical. No, the magical thing was this man in front of her, the man who had appeared so suddenly one day and taught her what it meant to love.

When they pulled apart, tears glimmered in her eyes.

“Katsuki. Katsuki, I love you,” she blurted. The words had ballooned within her, filling her chest with a painful tightness. She suddenly had the suspicion she was going to disappear, perhaps even before her waking eyes. “I love you so much. Please, I-” He gently shushed her and placed two fingers over her lips, then leaned in to press a sweeter, chaste kiss to her mouth. His other hand fell to grasp hers and interlace their fingers.

“I love you too, Ochako,” he murmured against her mouth, eyes still closed. Ochako groaned and melted against him, savoring their way their parted lips meshed and their breath mixed in the warm night air. He gripped her hips and pushed against her, and her body obeyed his silent command, laying back into the cool grass. He climbed atop her, her legs slotting perfectly before his spread knees, and he began to pepper her face with little kisses.

“I’m so fucking grateful I stumbled upon this fucking plum tree-” he growled, his kisses becoming more fervent and open-mouthed. Ochako mewled as he dropped his head to plant lingering, ardent kisses along the column of her neck. His hands kneaded the plush flesh of her hips. She threaded her fingers into his tousled ash-blond hair and peered through her lashes. The emerald leaves of the plum tree blanketed them, and beyond that bloomed a brilliant night sky alive with all the colors of the universe.

There, with only the plum tree and that sky to bear witness, Ochako and Katsuki sealed their love for one another forevermore.

The Coming of the End

Katsuki didn’t come the following day, or the next or the next. Ochako surmised it was the constant rain. It poured endlessly from the heavens like they were weeping, saturating the earth. Puddles bloomed on the ground and grew larger every day, and they melded into each other to create a latticework of water channels and small ponds. The water streamed down the slope of the hill to pool in the lower lands, and soon the path flooded over completely. Isolated atop her lonely knoll with the plum tree, Ochako recalled Katsuki’s hands blazing trails across her body, and the clouds of their breath misting in the cooling night, and the way they sang each other’s names to the skies.

The rain continued for several weeks, and then it stopped. The sun finally breached the barrier of the gray clouds to shower the earth in its spearing rays. Slowly, the voluminous water soaked into the ground. Curious to how the humans fared, Ochako ventured down to the village-

and was greeted with nothing short of a tragedy.

The swelling of the river had ravaged the small settlement. It still exceeded its banks, pouring over the porches of the low-lying houses. Furniture and trinkets and clothes that had once carried sentiment floated in the current, occasionally catching on the spindly fingers of broken branches and even wholly uprooted trees. The wooden walkways were now roads for the river trout, and the townsfolk meandered between the flood buildings in their boats. A few of the vessels had not been so lucky. They were either sunk into the depths of the river or had crashed into the houses. The air was rank with depression and anxiety. The fireworks workshop had collapsed, with the roof sticking up out of the water at an odd angle and the cloth door floating on the surface. Ochako couldn’t find the little accessory stall at all.

Ochako fled back up the hill, unable to bear the sadness any longer. She collapsed at the base of her tree and wept. Clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles glared white, she prayed, and prayed, and prayed. She prayed for Momo and her fisherman husband, for Kyoka and Mina, for the grumpy fireworks shop owner and Eijirou and the friendly accessory shop owner- and for Katsuki, she prayed aloud until her throat was raw and she was coughing up blood. Yet she kept praying, until finally, darkness took her, and she melted into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, he was sitting up against the plum tree with her head in his lap. She would have jumped up and hugged him if his expression had not been so miserable. His fingers slowly teased through her locks of chestnut hair. He had been doing so a while, as evidenced by the channels parting the swathes of her locks. Frowning, she raised a hand to brush her fingertips over his chin.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. When he did, he cast his vermilion eyes into the distance, as if he could not bear to look at her. Finally, he whispered, “You’re going to die, Ochako.”

She sat up, her frown deepening. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her expression of confusion and looked down at his lap.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“The locals say the flood was the wrath of the river god. Apparently, they think that revering the plum tree has angered him, and he flooded the town in vengeance. They-” he choked on his words. He pushed his fist into his mouth as tears blossomed in his eyes. “They’re going to cut the plum tree down.” Ochako paled as frightening realization dawned upon her. Ochako was born of the plum tree and its associated prayers. If they removed the plum tree and ceased to pray, Ochako would disappear. Terrified, she jumped forward to cling to Katsuki, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to die!” she wailed in dismay. Her heart hammered in her throat, and a tremor gripped her body. Katsuki threw his arms around her in a smothering embrace, burying his face into her hair as he hiccupped with a broken sob. She snuggled into him, surrounding herself in his warmth and gunpowder scent, as if it could shield her from her coming death. It could not, however; she could hear the mob approaching already, shouts and curses floating on the early morning air.

“I won’t let them,” he snarled and hugged her tighter. Ochako whimpered, but as much as she would admire him for defending her honor, she could not allow it.

“No, Katsuki! If you interfere, they’ll murder you,” she insisted, prying herself away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, slowly bringing herself down from the fearful mania. He stared at her incredulously.

“Ochako, if we do nothing, they’ll murder you!”

The shouts and curses grew louder. Birds took to the air, startled by the aggressive ascent of the river folk. Time was running out.

“I have an idea,” Ochako said and hopped to her feet. She clambered into the boughs of her plum tree to pluck the last remaining fruit of the season from its branches. Falling back to the flats of her feet, she tore away the golden flesh to reveal the pit within. She thrust it out to Katsuki, and he took it with startled hands. “This seed contains the essence of my birth tree,” she told him firmly. “Take it far from here and plant it. As long as my tree can bloom once more, and you continue to believe in me, I shall not cease to exist.” She smiled painfully as his expression contorted in pain. His quivering hand brushed over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

“Ochako, no,” he begged. Her heart shattered as his voice cracked with agony. The tears flowed down her cheeks like the accursed rain, burning as it trailed over her skin. “I can’t watch them do this.”

“You must, and you will,” she told him gently. She grabbed his hand and turned her head to press a long kiss into his calloused palm. “I will see you again,” she vowed, looking at him with heated brown eyes. He choked out another sob again, then grabbed her wrist to yank her forward. Her body fell upon his, and their lips crashed together in a tumultuous, passionate, heartbroken kiss. Katsuki kissed her right up until the moment the mob stormed into the clearing before she vanished before his eyes. The angry mob shoved him to the side despite his fragmented pleas, and he crashed to the ground. He watched, wide-eyed and clutching the little seed pod to his chest, as they swung the axe into the skinny trunk of the plum tree. It only took the one swing to bore deep into the heart of its wood, and with a noise not unlike an agonized scream, the tree fell backward and crashed into the earth. The leaves quivered with dying breaths, and sap poured like blood from the wound.

The rain began to pour though not a cloud was in the sky. It was as if the world was lamenting the loss of its purest soul.

The Coming of the Legend

Katsuki Bakugo sailed away from the riverside town that very afternoon. He bought a little clay pot and took some soil from the hill to plant the plum tree seed, and he waited. The boat meandered along the river to destination after destination, festival after festival, but the seed did not take root. Yet he waited, optimistic that his love would return. He slept with the little pot of dirt tucked against his chest, and sometimes, he imagined it was Ochako’s heartbeat and not his own pulsing through the clay and earth. Three months went by, but nothing ever sprouted from the seed. Hope was all he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline. His boss once ridiculed him for obsessing over the empty pot and had attempted to toss it into the river, and Katsuki broke the man’s nose and an arm struggling to get it back.

The old fogey finally fired him for that stunt.

Katsuki returned home to his lofty home on the outskirts of Edo. His mother had made her fortune designing kimonos. Even the waiting ladies to the wealthiest samurai wore her designs, or so it was said. Ginkgo trees and cherry blossoms and pines towered above the ornate building, but their sprawling garden did not possess a plum tree. Katsuki found a patch of earth about the size of the hilltop and planted the seed, which had not rotted even after three months in the small pot of soil. He took up a profession cooking and made more money than he ever had crafting fireworks. Every night when he returned home, arms aching and smelling of various spices and meats, he would go to the garden and look for a sprout.

He’d kneel at the spot and pray until his throat bled raw, and blisters burst on his clasped hands, and he would water the earth with his tears.

The servants began to whisper that he had gone mad over the drowning of his lover in the riverside town. His mother and father looked on in concern but allowed Katsuki his grieving. Katsuki had always been a hothead, but his temper shortened a drastic amount; he would scrap with strangers in the streets if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. He punched holes in the walls and kicked over furniture at the slightest provocation. He’d grab his clothes and tear them to shreds, simply because his world was falling apart around him, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

His muscles wasted, for he had not the care to tend them. Weight sloughed from his frame, as food or drink tasted like ash in his mouth. His body took to a persistent cold, but no doctor could mend him, for his illness was of the heart. The whole world seemed dark, for his sun had been cruelly snuffed out of existence.

Six months to the day after the felling of the plum tree, he fell to his knees before the buried plum tree seed and beseeched the glittering night sky. He screamed, and he roared, and he yelled, and he cried, begging the gods to take mercy on a virtuous plum tree spirit who graced the world with love and light. The servants looked on in awed horror as he begged the heavens for recompense until dawn began to peek over the horizon, and then darkness took him.

When he awoke, it was beneath the shade of a fully-grown plum tree. His head was cushioned by something soft and plush, and someone was stroking his ash-blond hair with loving fingers. His vision gradually cleared to reveal a smiling brunette, with round cheeks and a blissful smile and eyes like the earth.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Katsuki.”

As generations came and went, the landscape of Japan changed, and so did the illustrious manor of the Bakugo family- yet the plum tree remained, a monument to an era long lost. The household had been torn down and rebuilt many times over, remodeled by inheritors of the family’s fortune.

Yet, they never touched the plum tree. That’s because everyone knew the legend of the Lovers’ Plum- the saga of a love so powerful that no force on this earth could break it. Rumor says that the plum tree spirit still inhabits the tree and grants wishes of romance to those who reach her ears, and that on nights where fireworks fill the sky, one can see her and her human beloved seated beneath its boughs, holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo x uraraka #bakugo x ochako #uraraka x bakugo #ochako x bakugo #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #kacchako fanfic #kacchako fanfiction

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nnegan13 · 6 years ago

Note

I've read your tag about Fede never calling edo on incantava first date and I agree that it would have changed the whole plot!!!! God damn it the possibilities!!! Maybe you could write something about that? Please??

hi! sorry that I’m just getting to this. I honestly think it would’ve gone soooo differently and after you asked this I was like, ‘well that’s as much of a sign as any to write something for it’ so here’s a little blurb from the beginning of an AU one-shot that I’m not really sure I’ll get around to finishing. it’s kind of rough and not edited but! it’s what I’ve got for you lmao

FRIDAY 15 MARCH 19:51FIUMINCINO

“Not to be repetitive, or anything,” Eleonora says, sliding her eyes back over to Edoardo, hunched over his knees, and pursing her lips a little. “But, if you could apologize to Silvia, again…” she stops, lips curling into her mouth, watching the way his face falls open the moment she begins to speak, and regrets letting her tongue be so loose. She’s going to promise things she isn’t sure she can do.

“For texting her again?” He sounds confused, but willing, and that’s the worst part.

“I mean, maybe not apologize, but talk to her, at least.” She turns back to the waves lapping at the dock. “Explain that you’re not interested.”

“But keep you out of it.”

She nods. “Keep me out of it.”

“Because you’re going to tell her, right?”

She cuts her gaze over to him, frowning. “About what?”

“About this.” He gestures between them and she clamps down on her heart to keep it from beating faster.

“Why would I?”

“It’s just as shitty to keep this from her as for me to use her,” he says, shrugging. “You want her to get over me? What better way than to tell her I’m interested in you?”

Eleonora’s heart starts pounding. I’m interested in you. “Still different, I think.”

“Whatever you say, Ele.” He hums a little, a bit of a laugh to his voice, and looks back out at the sea. Frowning, she grabs another cookie from the tin in her lap and tries not to be too furious when she bites into it. Damn him for making good points. Edoardo was much easier to hate when he was some nonsensical boy playing school-ground god. Now that she’s got a peek at the inner workings of his brain?

Her distaste of him is at risk.

She deflects from her own self: “You’ll talk to her, though?”

“Want to make another deal, or something?” His smile is wry and her fingers clench around the cookie involuntarily. She frowns, mouth opening to say something rather angry and malicious, and watches a joking backtrack cross his face before she can speak again. “No, I’m kidding.” He nods and holds his hand out for the tin. “I’ll talk to her.”

She slides it across the dock and tries not to focus on the graceful curve of his fingers as he goes about rummaging through the tin. “Good.”

Looking up, he gives her a close-lipped grin, something she can tag as pleased, and the fact that he’s happy she’s happy with his agreement burrows into the back of her mind. What could that possibly mean?

She deflects from herself again, focusing on the superficial. “Speaking of deals, this one’s done, right?”

That pleased expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you not having the greatest time?”

“He thinks himself a comedian.”

Edoardo does chuckle a little at that and shrugs before letting sincerity slip onto his face, even if it’s marred by a hint of disappointment. Surprisingly, it’s similar to how he looked when he talked about his mom— “Once we’re done tonight, we’re done.”

“And this never happened.” He gives her a pointed look, holding eye contact she somehow can’t break, until she relents. “Okay, to Silvia, maybe it happened. But you’re telling her, too.”

He puts the lid back on the cookie tin, rubs his palms down his pants, and stands, tin in hand. “This never happened, but only once we go to this gelato place down the street.”

She stares up at him, that tiny nest in her mind trying to figure out what, exactly, his game is, piecing together things he’s said tonight and all his texts while she was in England and everything they’ve ever said to one another since she ripped him to shreds in front of il baretto, and keeps circling back around to the pleased expression on his face from just a minute or two ago. Eleonora nods. “Fine.”

��

TUESDAY 19 MARCH 13:37 SCHOOL

She sent the text earlier almost as soon as she saw them walk past her and the girls outside the school this morning, taking the moment in which Silvia started tittering with concern to follow her impulse and ask him to meet after classes were done.

Now, standing in the middle of an empty classroom cordoned off for school remodeling, Eleonora might regret certain actions she’d taken.

Edoardo shows up a few minutes after the bell rings, hand casually looped around the strap of his backpack like his fingers aren’t taped together, like his knuckles aren’t split a searing red, like his face isn’t various shades of purple. She swallows as he enters her space, just a step or two away. Her hand twitches at her side.

He says, “What’s up?” and it drives her crazy.

“Nothing, I just—” she lets her hand move so it doesn’t do something stupid, like touch his face, and gestures at his person, “—wanted to apologize.”

His eyebrows furrow. “For what? As far as I can remember, you weren’t the one throwing the punches.”

She bites her lip, tries not to think of the flicker of his eyes down and back up her face. Her heart pounds out of her chest and she folds her arms. “No, I know. I meant about Friday, your mom, I didn’t know.”

Silvia’s story about his mom’s illness combined with the proof of his terrible beating, bruises very fresh even two days later, set something off in her. His words from their date still have her on edge; as far as she knows, neither of them have talked to Silvia yet, but his frustratingly accurate analysis of the situation sits just under her skin and wants to come out in the form of sympathy for him.

It’s only a little infuriating.

“I wouldn’t have said those things if I had.” Her voice echoes loudly through the room despite her efforts to be quiet, and she doesn’t look away from him, even though she wants to, badly. “I’m sorry.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up, reminiscent of his pleased expression from Friday, and adds itself to her collection of Edoardo-isms she has yet to understand. “Don’t worry about it.” A beat passes, he leans into the desk she’s propped against and, subsequently, more into her space, and now her heart is racing for different reasons. “Thank you, though.”

“Mm.” She looks away, but not before catching how his expression turns teasing. What is she in for, now?

“Maybe I should get beat up more often.” Eleonora narrows her eyes at her shoes. “That way, you’ll get all concerned and—”

“No.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth and glances at him. He’s kidding, again, like he was about the second deal; the fact that she can recognize that in his face, in his voice, is worrying. “Don’t joke about that.”

He moves one last time and, now, their shoulders are pressed together; the fabric of her shirt rides up when he shrugs. “Okay.”

Thinking about that one point of contact is a dangerous path, so she deflects. The reoccurrences are becoming almost as annoying as Edoardo. “Why were you even fighting, anyway?”

“Ah,” he shrugs, looking mildly put out at the reminder. “Last week, I broke one of their noses for calling Emma Covitti a slut. It might’ve pissed them off a bit.”

“A bit.”

Apprehension shades his face when he meets her eyes again, traces the quirked line of her brow with his gaze, but she can’t find a speck of guilt. Eleonora prays her own face doesn’t heat at the intensity in his expression and wonders when it became so easy to read him, if it’s easy for him to read her in turn. “Is that judgement I hear?”

“Violence begets violence.”

“So, it’s my fault?” The interesting thing is that Edoardo doesn’t sound angry, just intrigued by her answer.

“Maybe.” A muscle ticks in his jaw and she presses her lips together. “You could’ve just talked to him.”

“I don’t think talking to him would’ve changed his mind.”

“He probably would’ve been more willing to think about it without a broken nose, though.” He snorts, and that pisses her off a little. “What are you laughing at?”

“I would’ve thought you’d be glad I broke his nose for what he called Emma,” he explains and his words slip right under her skin, again.

Radio feminist. Killer lipstick. Defender of women. That’s Eleonora Sava in a nutshell. Edoardo might be right, but in this case?

She looks at the blackboard. “This is different.”

“Why? Hm? Because it’s me?” Yes.

His tone is light but she can see an underlying hurt in his eyes when she turns back to him. She doesn’t like how sincere he always sounds and how it makes her head spin, so she changes the subject. “When are you going to talk to Silvia?”

He tilts his chin, lips twitching a little. “When are you?”

“This weekend.” She isn’t sure, actually, but it might be the best time to do it. Secluded in the mountains, with their friends around for comfort and logic, convenient places for Silvia to dump a body if it comes to murder. “We’re going to Federica’s for the break.”

“When do you leave?”

“Thursday.”

“Okay,” Edoardo nods and half-smiles at her. “I’ll talk to her before then.”

When she nods and that pleased expression returns to his face, she steps away from the desk. “Good. Uh, I’ve got to go.”

“Okay.” She walks backwards toward the door, angling her head to the side a little as she watches him. He doesn’t make an effort, that she can see, to stop her from leaving and it only adds to her annoyance. And the fact that she’s annoyed about it also annoys her. “See you.”

It’s open ended, not a promise, just a possibility, and Eleonora hates it a little even though it’s what she asked of him. Once we’re done tonight, we’re done. She waves, “See you,” and exits without a backward glance.

#asks #skam italia #incantava #incantava fic #eleonora sava #edoardo incanti #lol have this idk if I'm ever gonna get around to finishing it but it was sure fun to write!#my stuff

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kuraiamore · 7 years ago

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WIP List Game

tagged by @shiranuigenma ; in truth, I haven’t actively been working on any of my wips for over a month now, though I have been thinking that it’s about high time to get back into them, so this has come at a great time! All my love and thanks for the tag<3

(wip list + commentary + small snippets under the cut. sorted by fandom.)

(for the game, tagging: @first-quarter-of-the-moon @bombushuntii @mouseymightymarvellous @purple-possibilities and anyone with some wips they’d like to share :D )

GINTAMA WIPS

fly the hurricane a TakaZura fic, originally started for week 3 of the gintama fic fest. i can’t quite figure out its ending scene though, and since i can’t figure out its ending scene, i dont reeeeally know where it’s going, so it’s just kinda been.... sitting there...

“You should leave Edo.”

Well. He had expected something more along the lines of atonement or meditation—some sentimental journey of self-discovery following the likes of the old philosophical masters whose words Katsura always kept close to heart. There’s an odd curl of satisfaction in knowing his old comrade and once enemy could still be as pragmatically cruel as ever.

“And what will you do?” he asks. “Your head still has the same price on it as mine.”

of possessions and perversions, ch.3 not abandoned, don’t worry! working out the action + dialogue to get everyone where i want them to be is just taking a little longer than expected, sigh.

Zura. Gold eyes. Kiss. The tenma, body, quest—

He jerks upright, ripping the blanket off his body and throwing his head to the side hard enough for his neck to make a small crick.

Rumpled sheets. Tossed pillow. Empty futon.

He’s out the door and staring at Shinpachi and Kagura’s surprised faces before he even registers moving.

“Oi! Where’s Zura?!”

a little something to warm the heart something i started writing to work through my feelings surrounding Gintoki, Katsura and Ikumatsu during the Homeless arc. ironically made my feelings even more muddled, lol.

When Katsura says nothing, Gintoki begins to ramble.

“Think about it. Even your shitty tastes won't ruin Ikumatsu’s business. You could settle. Hell, get hitched, have kids, I'll be the crazy uncle. We'll have shitty dinners once a month plus New Years, Christmas, birthdays, Valentine's day, and special occasions. You can never have too much ramen, it's like a national treasure, eat it every season.”

It's Katsura’s turn to snort.

“You just want free food don't you?”

hearts don’t have to be broken to hurt (and sometimes healing hurts more than the break) a HijiZura fic that I work on in between other smaller wips and possessions whenever the urge strikes. will i ever finish the first chapter? i am going to damn well try.

There’s not a flutter of wind in the air; it’s a perfect, still night.

In the stillness, he hears the soft pad of footsteps heading in his direction long before the shadows meld into the shape of a man, walking across the bamboo porch with sure, even steps.

A pair of surprised faces meet, before a soft smile crinkles the corner of hazel brown eyes.

NARUTO WIPS

chatoyance an InoSaku modern AU that was inspired by a story my friend told of meeting a French heiress to a jewellery company whilst on her travels. couldn’t help myself - Ino just demanded to be a Franco-Japanese heiress who goes on exchange to Tokyo and finds and falls in love with the most beautiful cherry blossom ever.

They talk mostly in Japanese, scatterings of French and English when some things just don’t translate. Ino switches between languages the same way she switches outfits: furiously, carelessly, and with the kind of unapologetic confidence Sakura thought only ladies in Hollywood movies possessed.

that MadaKaka one I never came up with a title for, part 3 you know that MadaKaka fic I wrote waaayyy back when where Madara freaks out over Kakashi’s forearms? yeah, that one. i’ve been trying to write the next part of that for... like 8 months now?

“It's an Uchiha thing, right?”

A second of stupified silence.

“What?” he asks, eloquently, when he realises that Kakashi is waiting for a response.

“The touching thing. You Uchihas like to touch.”

two more MadaKaka smut oneshots (hopefully <1k) that I started and would like to finish just so I can move them into the ‘completed’ folder

Madara is tight, so tight Kakashi amuses himself with the thought of being the Uchiha’s first, though that could hardly be the case with the way Madara sinks down without pause or hesitation, hair thrown back and throat bared.

It’s ironic, really, that only when Kakashi is silenced is he willing to make noise.

Fingers trail down a cotton-covered jaw, sweeping down neck and over collarbone to rest on shoulders. Kakashi tilts his head back at the touch, humming slightly.

“Are you sure?”

THE HOBBIT//LOTR

just another post-BOTFA barduil fic okay, so I haven’t actually started writing this yet, but it’s been on my mind ever since falling back into the lotr fandom (if you’re wondering why i’ve been neglecting my own fics for the past month, that is why) and turning into thranduil trash. i just want a proper slow burn romance where Thranduil feels in-character to me, cause as much as I enjoy fandom!Thranduil’s fabulousness and sexy dom attitude, I think there’s a midway point between book!Thranduil and movie!Thranduil where the complexities of his character and history would really shine, and I really want to find and explore it. also woodelf culture and generally exploring inter-elf culture and elf-man-dwarf politics! i currently have 1.5k of scene outlines and notes and much excite :D

aaand that’s probably the wip list for the year, knowing my slow writing pace! hopefully i’ll manage to get some, if not most of them complete, cause i have a backlog of other scattered wips and fic ideas i would love to see come to life. *prays fervently to the writing gods and goddesses*

#my writing #tag game #ok now #...which one do i pick up again first? xD

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lovehotelreservation · 8 years ago

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Aflame

Summary: The livelihood of your village is put in turmoil when communication from the spirit Inari falters with the disappearance of one of its messenger kitsune, Yusuke. His body possessed by a heat that goes beyond merely the sun, there is only one way to ease and extinguish the fire consuming him from within, and that method relies only with you. Feudal Japan/Kitsune AU

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Reader/Kitsune!Yusuke

HELLO EVERYONE! And thus this lovely request from an even lovelier Anon shall close things up for our weekend of requests! ^^; As you can see, I enjoyed myself thoroughly while fulfilling this prompt out, and I can’t wait to post more P5 works, especially in the weeks to come, including this one~! I hope you all enjoy!

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

Kitsune, kitsune,

what does Inari say?

Kitsune, kitsune,

what ails you today?

Kitsune, kitsune,

how may I make your suffering go away?

Such was the shared philosophy of the residents of your village. Renowned across the land for the renowned quality of the weapons and tools that the blacksmiths of your hometown produced, it wasn't much surprise that Inari was worshipped and revered dearly by your people. For without the blessings of the great spirit, your village wouldn't have been able to flourish as greatly as it has. Though, to truly appreciate the blessings and properly pay respects in thanks, the kitsune were heralded on an equal level.

Thus came about that passage--an excerpt to an even longer saying--of being sure to revere Inari and its messengers, the kitsune.

There was one kitsune who was a frequent visitor to your village. As soon as you caught sight of white fur streaked with blue and red, you became eager, as it meant that the faithful messenger to Inari by the name of Yusuke, had come to deliver some news to the village, whether about weather, the acceptance of a blessing, a warning of trouble that may come, and more.

Though you were not properly trained to interpret the often stylistic wordings of Inari's message--that was more for the main village priestess, Makoto--it was clear to everyone in town that Yusuke was fond of you. Haru, the daughter of your village's daimyou, often giggled to you how amusing it was to see the fox stride up to the entrance of your town, only to break out into a full sprint whenever you came by to welcome the majestic creature before escorting him to the temples.

As your father was among the most famous blacksmiths in the village, it was an honor that a messenger of Inari would be attached to you. And you cherished the fox just as much, always so happy and joyful to greet him and always so reluctant and saddened to see him leave. He seemed to starved during every visit, whether for the food of the Takamaki bakery or for the touch of your hand, the latter which he yipped and wagged his tail with gleefully whenever you stroked his fur. It truly made you wish that he could stay, to be like a pet that you never got to have. However, knowing his importance to Inari and to your village, you accepted that this was simply how things were meant to be, how Yusuke would just be a frequent guest to your home.

It was why it was so alarming and worrying to you when Yusuke seemed to stop coming to your village.

As summer had finally come at long last, the people of your town became concerned, as the kitsune had yet to bring forth any messages for the season. Without any communication to Inari, there was worry that proper thanks wouldn't be given to the spirit, whether by food offerings or festivals, which in turn could imply ungratefulness by your people. The anxiousness increased as time passed, with Makoto receiving an influx of visitors, you being asked constantly if you were aware of Yusuke's disappearance, and even Futaba--the village astronomer--dealing with a barrage of inquiries whether the stars were aligned unfavorably to your town.

You were left to sit out upon the engawa right before your room, looking wistfully up at the sky as you wondered just where Yusuke could have gone to, whether he was safe and sound, if the Inari was suddenly displeased with your village and not, and so on. This evening was no different, with the moon looking so bright and full. It was looking to be a lonely night, as your family had traveled to Edo to sell the new wares your father had produced in one of the city's bustling marketplaces. Thankfully, you were instead accompanied by your dear friends in the comfort of your room, the shoji left open to let in the cool evening air: Makoto, Futaba, Haru, and Ann, the daughter of the Takamakis.

Seeing how distraught you were over the missing kitsune, the girls thought to treat you to a special dinner of your favorite meals and snacks that they prepared or prepared for you, with Makoto and Ann in the former, and Haru and Futaba in the latter.

Before you was a small plate of inarizushi that Ann just presented to you.

"Take a bite of this, and I'm sure he'll come right back!" She chirped happily, just before pausing, a pout forming as she then huffed "...He better because I pounded a lot of care into the rice!"

A small smile appearing, you offered her your thanks and reached for a piece to do just that. Truly, it would be blessing if that were the case--

One bite into your food and you tensed from a sudden rustling noise. It was took all of you off guard, surely, but it could have just been a rabbit passing through the bushes and other fauna that grew by your house.

Another bite. There it was again, except louder.

Alarmed and cautious, you set your food down while the others wondered out loud what it could be--though Futaba proceeded to hide herself under the table--looking outside in curiosity.

But then the sound occurred once more, right as you caught sight of a blurry mix of white, red, and blue.

You gasped, "Y-Yusuke...?"

Without another thought, you hurriedly pulled on your slippers, grabbed your lantern, and set out to follow after the blur in your yukata, too focused on what was before you to fathom the worried cries of your name by your friends. Though it was night, you often played around with the kitsune in the forest clearing by your home, especially tag and hide and seek. While the blur weaved in and out of your vision--made easier since all you had to go by was the light of your lantern and your moon--you were determined, desperate to see your dear companion once again.

By the curve of certain trees and the appearance of certain flowers, you anticipated to soon arrive at the small meadow where you and Yusuke would often have lunch together.

What you absolutely did not expect was to find the pale, lithe and naked form of a man sprawled across the colorful sea of petals and blossoms.

You shrieked initially in shock, one hand reaching up to cover your mouth. There wasn't even time to consider him to be a full human however, given by the slender but utterly fluffy navy blue tail that was protruding from his backside. As you cautiously lifted your lantern, your eyes moved up to his head, where you could make out ears that matched the color of his short, silky hair and tail.

It had to be Yusuke.

There was a widespread belief that kitsune had the ability to shapeshift into humans. However, it was a theory you never considered to be true, especially with Yusuke, simply because he never changed out of his fox form, even when delivering messages to Makoto.

But to consider just what was going on was something to be debated later, for what was important now was to attend to him. He looked to be feverish, his skin damp with sweat, flushed even in the summer heat, and panting heavily for breath as he remained on the floor.

As strange and bizarre as this situation was, you mustered up the courage to meekly query, "Yusuke? Is that you?"

"Stay...stay back..."

You were alarmed at the sound of Yusuke's speaking voice, a low tone marred by ragged exhaustion. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the floor, all the while he turned back to face you. While you noticed his body tense as his eyes fell onto your form, you were taken by how utterly handsome and beautiful he was. Though you only had the light of the lantern and the moon, the latter cast a heavenly glow down upon his face, which in turn made him look ethereal, like a true being of the heavens.

However, attractiveness aside, for your darling companion to ask that you keep away hurt you deeply, even more since he had been gone for so long.

Noting how disappointed you looked, he gazed at you wearily and shook his head. "Please I only say this for your sake...I am...not well..." Your name fell from his lips and he let out a content sigh, even amidst his present agony. "I would...want nothing more than to be by your side but I...I am unworthy, especially with this...depravity swelling within me. I cannot let you get to close, for I fear of what I...of what I may do to you."

"'Do to me?'" You queried, confused by his word choice, though relieved that he wished to remain around you. Taking a step towards him, you continued to speak, worry evident in your tone. "Yusuke, what do you mean? It's clear that you're in pain, so please tell me what I can do to help!"

A gentle, cool evening breeze brushed by you, rushing past Yusuke, who proceeded to clench his teeth, wrapping his arms around himself as he shuddered, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "G-Gods...I...your scen--"

"Eek! Na-Naked man! Makoto, Ann, Haru! There's a weird pervert here about to attack...!"

The shrill squeal of your name had you twisting your body back in surprise to see a stupefied Futaba holding a lantern up defensively, all the while eyeing Yusuke with complete, utter terror. Though, what was truly terrifying was to see Makoto, Ann, and Haru leap from the bushes, all brandishing bamboo sticks that seemed to have been ripped from the ground along the way, their eyes exuding nothing by protective fury.

"Aaah! It's fine, everyone! It's fine!" You sqwaked, immediately stepping in right front of Yusuke protectively. Though you held a hand up as a gesture to calm, you were caught in a flustered ramble over all this sudden turn of events. "The man behind me is Yusuke, one of Inari's kitsune messengers! He can actually shapeshift into a human, but he still has his blue ears and tail!"

"Shapeshift?" Makoto remarked with utter bewilderment.

"Tail?" Haru repeated with awe.

"He can't even find clothes to cover his shame?!" Ann heaved with anger.

From behind, you could hear Yusuke's breathing worsen, along with the sound of him shifting in place. However, what stood out to you the most was Futaba squealing out "Aaah! He's-- He's going to attack!"

But before you could fully comprehend what she said, you were suddenly enveloped in the tight embrace of Yusuke as his arms wrapped around your body from behind. With the kitsune now in sight, your friends noted his dark blue ears atop his head and the glimpse of a wagging tail. You let out a startled noise, your body freezing in place even if the heat emanating from his skin was just so hot--an inviting heat like that of an onsen. But much like the result of relaxing in a bubbling hot spring, you instantly became flushed when you felt something hard and stiff press against your backside. "Yu-Yusuke--? What are you...?"

"You--!" Ann snarled, gripping her bamboo tightly as she readied to strike. "I'll have you know these hands pound some really good mochi, you freak!"

"Withdraw your arms now, kitsune," Makoto warned dangerously--even as a priestess, she was feared around the village as someone to never cross.

"Or face the consequences," Haru giggled, brandishing her makeshift weapon with expertise. Similarly, the daimyou's daughter had the same reputation.

Gripping her lantern, Futaba put on a brave face while swinging it around in an attempt to be intimidating. "You'll be seeing stars, demon! We'll make sure of it!"

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you understood that your friends simply wanted to protect you from his bizarre actions, but--even stranger--you wanted to understand and ease whatever was distressing your friend.

To feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke was actually quite soothing, even if his voice remained strained. "My...my apolgies for my actions and absence, fair maidens." He too lifted his hand up as a gesture of a reassurance. "It is as your friend says--I am indeed Yusuke, kitsune messenger to Inari. I realize that your village has yet to receive Inari's messages regarding the summer festival. There is reason for my absence, which I desire nothing more than to explain."

While your friends refused to let down their guard, Makoto--still wielding her bamboo stick--remarked with a narrowed glare. "...Go on."

"Though kitsune are messengers to Inari, the merciful spirit allows us to live our lives freely as we wish. Some remain foxes, others masquerade themselves as humans whenever there are no messages to deliver," Yusuke began, trying his best to remain coherent even if his voice remained shaky. His eyes shut as he ended up leaning further against you, which in turn caused his bare, erect cock to press deeper against you. "Unfortunately, a condition that kitsune must endure comes around when the moon is at its fullest--namely, a period where their bodies are overwhelmed by this...hellish heat from within. While I usually was able to fulfill my duties before the time of my heat, I usually sought the mercy of Inari to eliminate it. But it was not the case this summer..."

Yusuke paused, clinging to your body even tighter as he inhaled, a shudder going through him as he continued, "...by mating with another."

You were speechless.

Your friends looked to Yusuke.

Then to his arms.

Then to you.

Who was in his arms.

Then back to Yusuke.

Makoto reached into the sleeve of her white haori, pulling out a ofuda strip before wrapping it tightly around her bamboo sticking. Glaring furiously at Yusuke, she remarked in an utterly terse tone. "Messenger of Inari or not, I will not allow such perversions to sully the good name of my friend! I will pray for forgiveness for the next hundred years for this if I must!"

Ann and Haru mirrored her expression--though the former was scowling while the latter was smiling--all the while they tapped their bamboo sticks on their hands repeatedly. Futaba swung her lantern around as she cried out, "We will burn this forest down and take you with it, you weirdo!"

"Everyone, please...! I wouldn't mind!"

It was strange to find some comfort in Yusuke's embrace. The way he held you--even as constrictive and needy as it was--felt adoring and affectionate, much like how he enjoyed curling up beside you when you decided to take an afternoon nap. There was no true difference between his human and fox form. This was Yusuke through and through.

Really, there was something both touching and alluring to being desired so greatly, especially by a divine messenger. You wondered if the gracefulness that left you awed could also leave you quivering with pleasure.

The small but fearsome mob that was ready to fight on your behalf looked at you aghast.

Ann fumbled with your name and the words she screeched, "Don't you see that he's just using this as an excuse as a way to sleep with you?! He was using his fox form to lure you in and think he's so cute, when really he's a no good trickster!"

Futaba cried out your name, her face twisting with despair. "I didn't know you were into the kind of thing! Who's the weirdo now?!"

Looking mindful, Haru pressed a finger to her cheek as she mused, "Actually, I know of the wives of some daimyou who go to the red night districts of Kyoto and Edo for this sort of thing--"

"Haru, please refrain...," Makoto interrupted with exasperation. Focusing on you and Yusuke, she eyed you with concern and him with disdain. "You, kitsune...so if we are to understand this correctly, your current...bodily state is what's preventing you from returning to Inari to receive its message for delivery to our village?"

"That is correct," he affirmed with a nod, having been far too wrapped up in your scent and body being so close to him to really mind whatever anger was flung his way.

"And if our friend were to..." Her red eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare. "...relieve you of this heat, then you will be able to return to Inari, receive its message, and deliver it to me at long last?"

"I swear it this to you, Lady Makoto. Were the circumstances different, I would've have brought the message to you weeks ago. But my body just...and your beautiful companion..." He shuddered once more, your scent becoming just too much to take. As soon as you stood close by to defend him from the wrath of your friends, whatever scraps of his restraint were burning away in the wake of his heat. For you to be right within his grasp, your scent so intoxicating, all while you were just as compassionate and sweet to him as you always have been even with all of the bizarre twist of events, there was nothing he craved more than you at this moment.

"Oi, keep it in your pants!" Futaba hissed, waving her lantern around in warning.

Ann nodded vigorously, her arms folded across her chest. "Find some already, would you?!"

Makoto held up her hand, motioning for the two to remain quiet. Her gaze softened as it shifted to you, even if they remained worried. "I apologize for having to put you up to this. But as you've seen firsthand, the village is growing restless without hearing word from the Inari--and I know your father is especially concerned too. If you are truly up to taking this task, then go ahead. But...please tell us whatever you may need to make this as pleasant as possible."

"Just say the word, okay?" Ann urged, even if it was clear that she was still unsettled by the situation.

"I can have some of the finest, most comfortable futon brought in from Kyoto by the end of the week if you wish!" Haru added with a wide smile.

"Would kitsune over there even make it until then?" Futaba speculated, while eyeing him and the night sky above.

You offered a wide smile in thanks, bowing your head with gratitude, "All of you, thank you so much. Knowing that you hold me in such regard means a lot. Though I don't think I will need anything els--"

"Rope."

Alarmed, the five of you turned to Yusuke, whose expression was serious.

"What for?!" Ann demanded, the look on her face hardening once more.

"For me--consider this as security for your friend," Yusuke clarified, even if it only brought forth more questions, more suspicion, more anger.

Clutching her head with one hand, Futaba proceeded to yell out to the sky, "Why are there so many kinks being discussed tonight?!"

It was a question that rang out into the night, the answer to be debated for another time. But with Yusuke legitimately minutes from having his way with you right in front of your friends, Makoto thought it would be best to return to your room to prepare for what was to come. He was escorted back to your home, your friends walking in front while he hovered behind you, his hands gently holding onto your waist.

As soon as your house was in sight, Ann was seen running out of your room, a sheet in hand as she chucked it right at him with the cry of "Cover up if you want to get inside, you perv!"

Certainly this evening was progressing along well.

Per his request, you retrieved some rope from your father's workshop, which was quickly taken by Makoto and Futaba, leaving you to be given a pep talk by a giggling Haru and a huffy Ann on the way back to your room.

"If he tries anything that makes you uncomfortable, just yell okay?!" Ann demanded with her arm wrapped around your shoulders. "We'll be in the dining room, but you can bet we'll come running!"

"Mm, perhaps we should see if there are any leftover weapons around the house. Don't you think so, Ann?" Haru queried thoughtfully while walking alongside of you.

"Completely!" She grinned, reaching forward to clasp hands with Haru, leaving you in the middle of a makeshift but pleasant group hug.

By now, you were standing right in front of your room. The confidence and assurance that you carried while easing the worry of your friends waned as your heart fluttered for what was to come. This wasn't even your first time either, but considering the stakes, considering who Yusuke was, there were just so many layers going into this that were as daunting as they were exciting.

The shoji to your room slid open and out came a red-faced Futaba--who seemed to have her abacus in hand--and a calm, satisfied Makoto.

Turning to you, the priestess, once more, eyed you gently as she rested her hands on your shoulders. "I'm sure Ann and Haru said enough, but again, truly...if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us and we will be there immediately, alright? Though, I feel confident that he should remain in place with how I did the knots."

Futaba waved her abacus around. "There was no way I could do any of that, so I just calculated the probability of when a riot breaks out in the village if this doesn't work out."

"Futaba--!" Ann and Makoto exclaimed admonishingly.

"It will be fine," Haru reassured soothingly. "Sure the circumstances are odd, but at the very least we can ease the worries of the village. If anything, we should trust in our friend to save the day!" Stepping forward, she took Makoto's and Ann's into hers, all the while gesturing to Futaba with the nod of her head. "But with that said, let us seek out some weapons so we may offer our full protection to any devious beings!"

"Haru, are you a rich kid, or a samurai?" Futaba queried while trailing after Haru as she dragged Makoto and Ann along, the two looking back towards you, at first with worry but then relief when you smiled confidently to them both--even if, again, your heart raced.

With nothing else to do or say, you inhaled deeply before you stepped inside your room, shutting the door behind you.

Though the shoji that lead outside closed--thus minimizing the amount of moonlight being allowed inside--the andon that was present in your room provided enough lighting to see the newfound centerpiece of your bedroom.

There, upon your futon, with his arms stretched out wide and bound to your table by his wrists while his legs were tied securely together with rope, was Yusuke. Restrained, naked save for your thick blanket covering his lower torso and pelvic area, he was there, lying in desperate need for your touch. As soon as he heard the shoji slide open, as soon as your magnificent scent wafted into the room once again, he immediately turned his head towards you, his expression becoming relieved upon the sight of your face.

From beneath him, you could see his tail wag with excitement.

"You're here," was how he greeted you with a blissful sigh.

"I meant what I said, Yusuke." You smiled in return, reaching to undo the ties that held up your yukata. "You mean a lot to me, so no matter the form you're in, I wish to help you."

Seeing you begin to undress, Yusuke's tongue flittered out to run over his lips, unable to contain himself at this point. His mouth had been hungering for you for so long--honestly, even far before this evening, before his heat even began. "Truly, you are divine. Both in spirit and in beauty. I am grateful that you would help me in this pitiful time of need."

Once more you reassured him. Once more he eyed you with desire.

As your yukata and your underclothing fell to the floor, the wag of his tail intensified and his desire intensified, all as your skin was exposed and laid bare for him to behold and marvel. Though you felt a fluttering from within from his unwavering stare, you felt emboldened by his attention, feeling yourself become slick and wet between your legs as you realized just how much he yearned for you.

His body certainly had no shame in telling you once you lifted your blanket off of him, his cock--just so painfully erect at this point--springing up. The moan he let out was only followed by an amused, gentle chuckle as he noticed your awed expression. "I take it that you are fond of what you see."

"Fond would be an understatement." You wanted to touch it. You wanted to lick it. You wanted to ride it.

You wanted it.

Your fingers reached forward to grab at his cock, only to stop midway when you heard him murmur out, "Don't."

"'Don't?'" You were astonished. "But I thought--"

"Sit on my face."

He sounded and looked so serious.

"Yusuke...?" There was that rush of heat towards your face again, aching even more severely between your legs. Your thighs pressed close together, which he noticed--almost wanting to tsk at you because he wanted to part them with his head.

"I do not want to be selfish. Please, let me indulge you before we begin," he murmured, motioning you over with a flick of his head.

You did as he instructed, touched that even in his own suffering, he still had you in mind.

Though, despite him being sincere with his words, the way he feasted on you couldn't be greedier.

The ethereal creature that left you speechless with his grace was not to be seen--or heard--with the way he planted his mouth against your core. Between the quick, hungry laps of his tongue and the noisy suction of his lips, it was impossible to refrain from moaning out loud and grinding down against his touch. He said this was for your pleasure, but with a look to how his wrists within their rope bindings, it was evident that he wanted to indulge himself further with his hands free, to savor more of the honey that was trickling down his chin.

However, he minded to himself, the need for rope was his requests, and surely with how the intensity of his heat has gone right to the extremes, he struggled to maintain his dwindling self-restraint.

With every quiver of your body, with the arch of your back, he was motivated to lick and taste you further until he had his full. Noticing that the rock of your hips was becoming more frequent, he was compelled to intensify the flick of his tongue, only to be left panting out the aghast remark of "W-Why are you pulling away...?"

Your body shivered in response--he sounded legitimately in despair that you withdrew your hips away from his mouth. In response, you didn't wait to press your hand against his cheek, stroking his face adoringly as you smiled, a deep blush of scarlet on your face. "Don't worry, Yusuke. I simply don't want to be selfish. But rather..."

His throat hitched as you proceeded to position and straddle yourself above his hips. He threw his head back with a whimper, feeling your slippery, wet heat glide against the full length of his aching erection, the soft touch of your hand wrapping around the base. "Gods yes...!"

"I want to do this--" You bit your lip, moaning as you eased yourself onto his cock before slowly sinking all the way down. "--with you...!"

Yusuke shuddered violently with a loud cry, his back arching off of the futon, a burn felt on his wrists and legs by how much he strained against them in that very moment. However, he was left stunned when he felt your lips meet his in utter tenderness. The sweet words of "Don't worry, Yusuke. I'm here" were murmured, even if the delivery was breathless.

Such compassion.

Feeling your hands position themselves against his chest, he watched and felt you began to lift your hips up and down his cock, working yourself to a steady rhythm. He wished to shut his eyes in pleasure as he could relief the beginnings of relief slowly trickle down to extinguish the fire pent up within him, but he fought against the urge, for he wanted to instead marvel at your beauty, your sensuality, everything.

Not just for this moment.

Ideally, forever.

However, though you were slow and reserved as you worked yourself down onto his cock, it was clear that you had some experience.

And so he groaned out the following question. "From-- From what I recall...there was a young man before me, wasn't there?" His teeth clenched tightly--whether it was from pleasure or to hold back a hiss was only for him to know. "Your first lover?"

It was a question that seemed out of the blue for you, understandably so. Still, as you continued to ride his cock, you confirmed. "A-Ahh, yes. The son of a daimyou from a neighboring village that once held ties with Haru's father." What an odd time to reminisce. "Goro A-Akechi...I really haven't thought about that name in a while."

"You were...gods...heartbroken when he left, didn't you?" Yusuke continued, recalling vaguely of that young man who he saw hanging around you a few years back, all the while his legs and wrists were yanking and tugging against their restraints even more. Though he never had any bad experiences with the daimyou's son--a charming and kind individual--there was something off-putting, almost sinister about him.

But that could easily have just been his own jealousy, especially since Goro was almost always successful in keeping you to himself whenever Yusuke came to the village for a message delivery.

Though, with Goro no longer around the village...

"We honestly didn't know what we were doing that time. Young love and all," you clarified with a pant. "But-- But I have to admit, he was quite charming and not too bad of a lover...!"

Snap.

That was the sound you heard.

You jaw fell slack at the sight of ruined rope being thrown aside.

Obviously, that was what caused the sound.

But for Yusuke the source was something different.

Namely the last bit of self-restraint he had.

Surely you didn't expect to be hoisted off of Yusuke--along with the noise of even more rope being ruined and tossed away--nor to be suddenly positioned on your hands and knees, with him situating himself right behind you.

"M-My apologies, I know this is...not the most romantic position but--" He shuddered, becoming so wrapped up in pleasure and his own desires and envies that he couldn't think straight. "I-It is the most ideal for mating during heat."

He was rambling again--apologies for going against his request to be bound, apologies for bringing up Goro, apologies for even putting you in this position of helping him solve his problems.

But he was interrupted by your gentle murmur of "Yusuke, face me."

Surprised at first, he did what you said. In turn, you looked towards him as well, proceeding to kiss his lips--softly with assurance. He groaned against the contact between your mouths, even more when you drew back with a tranquil smile on your face.

"Yusuke, please don't worry. Just do as you want to. I said I would help you at this time, right?"

He inhaled sharply.

Then seized hold of your hips.

"You did. And for that I am thankful."

To possess, to claim.

Yusuke considered himself to be above that of other spirits--one closer to humans while still carrying himself in an elevated, refined manner. And yet, to feel the molten heat of your core wrap around and squeeze his cock so tightly as he proceeded to fuck you ravenously, to hear you mewl out his name with euphoric bliss, there was nothing else that could satisfy the primal cravings lurking deep within him.

There was barely any space between your bodies as he hunched low, taken by not an urge, but a need to kiss along your spine and mark at your neck.

Not too bad of a lover, you say?

At this moment, he would make it clear that there would absolutely no one else who could satisfy and cherish you like he could. All those scattered moments across the years spent by your side, wishing to be beyond a mere messenger for Makoto, to take the place of that unscrupulous Goro. Long had he desired you, only to feel restrained by his existence as a kitsune.

But here you were, moaning for him, begging for more of his touch and affection, despite his absence and how he was unable to hide the physical traits that denote him to be a fox.

Acceptance and compassion.

What more could he need out of life?

"Be mine, be mine." He chanted desperately as his hips pounded against your backside over and over. His face buried into your neck, his mouth and teeth seeking your skin while his hands squeezed your hips, feeling just so close to finally achieving release. "Gods, please be mine...!"

"I will, Yusuke! I will!" You responded before your body tensed for a moment before arching, his name released cried from your lips noiselessly until you soon bowed forward, falling against your futon as you felt his warmth seep and pour into you in white, hot spurts.

There was an expected emptiness when he pulled out of you, replaced instead by him curling against your side and pulling you right against his chest, of which you could faintly hear his heart race. So much to take in and fathom, with the only thing made clear and coherent was that you were being embraced ever so lovingly.

Kisses were bestowed upon your face, followed by the enraptured sigh of your name. Your eyes met his, and you could see at long last that he was finally at ease. "I will uphold my duties to Inari to receive its message." He cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb feathering over your skin. "But when I come back to the village, I intend on staying here, where..."

He paused, wondering if it would be best to continue. However, seeing the trusting and affectionate look in your eyes, he chuckled gently and affirmed with full confidence, "...where my gorgeous mate is--if the feeling is mutual, of course."

This night was truly full of unexpected turns and twists, with no end seemingly in sight until now. Amidst this stability, with all that was confessed, said, and done, you felt at peace as you moved to kiss him once more as confirmation.

And while the two of you savored this feeling, wondering where the two of you would go from here, neither of you noticed the shadow of a small physique coming from outside scamper away.

Hurriedly, towards the dining room, where Futaba, Ann, and Makoto were still discussing how to best make use of the kitchen knives that they managed to salvage, the shadow--or rather, Futaba--burst inside, her arms stretched open wide for dramatic flair as she declared,

"Summer is saved!"

#yusuke kitagawa #persona 5 #reader insert #summer of faffery #fic #super freaknasty writing #management will return in a queue minutes

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luna-orlha · 8 years ago

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Title: House of Secrets Fandom: mcu ; Iron Man, Naruto Genre: Action ; Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura, Tony Stark Word count: Triggers(s):-- Rating: T Additional Tags: death & rebirth, AU Summary: Kakashi finds himself reborn in a world that doesn’t use chakra. Lucky for him, he’s not alone. And apparently he’s the illegitimate son of Howard Stark.

Notes: This plot bunny ran away with me. Meant to be a one-shot. We’ll see if this sees another chapter.

Might not be worked into very short AU. Basically this AU sets Narutoverse as the past forgotten MCU world in which everyone has forgotten how to use chakra (like how we hear about chi now and are skeptical of whether it exists). So in Narutoverse, people have kekkai genkai, which is forgotten in MCU.

X-men are people who are descendants of their kekkai genkai. Wolverine - originally a Kaguya descendant who can grow their bones and use as weapons. But since Logan has no formal training, he thinks he can only move the bones in his wrist. And the serum that Bucky & Steve gets is actually from an Uzumaki descendant (they are well-known to have fast healing and extremely long lives)

And with the appearance of Kakashi & Sakura who knows how to use their chakra, :D well things get changed.

Not beta-ed.

----

Kakashi does what he does best when he finds himself in a horribly awkward and strange position - hide. The last thing he remembered was dying in the fourth Shinobi war, very certain of it too. Sakura’s face was the last thing he saw, her crying face as she apologised. The world he wakes up to is different. Strange, awkward and definitely not the world he died in. His hands are too small and so are his limbs. His chakra is smaller than he never remembered it being.

Oh god, have they resurrected him in a goddamn civilian's body? His mind shrieks and he scampers down the bed, down the hardwood floor and into the bathroom that somehow he knows exactly where it is.

His reflection is decidedly not him. Never mind that his eyes are green, his hair is dark brown and his features aren’t even a carbon copy of his father anymore.

“Kelvin?” the female voice calls out, drawing closer to where he is.

A civilian, Kakashi immediately identifies. Who, he’s not sure but he sure as hell isn’t ready for any confrontation. His chakra rises sluggishly - like he’s never used it before, and he climbs up the wall and into the vent before the woman can enter the bathroom.

“Strange… I thought I heard him here,” the woman mutters. Her hair is frazzled and she yawns. There is no stealth in her movements, no grace that all female shinobis extrude unconsciously. Kakashi casts his senses out even further, feeling not a single shinobi-sized coil anywhere in his range. “Kelvin!”

Kakashi keeps himself very still, trying to figure what happened. There are two possibilities. First would be that bloody Kabuto has resurrected him with Edo Tensei and he is doomed. He will need to check for a seal on his body to ascertain if that’s the case. The second is that this is the Eternal Tsukiyomi and he’s in a dream. Although that doesn’t explain why he is in a body that isn’t him at all, and a woman that isn’t his parent. Where is his father in that case?

He schools a breath and decides that he has to figure what the hell is going on. Peeling his shirt clothes off, Kakashi inspects his skin carefully. There is no Edo Tensei seal, so it has to be the Eternal Tsukiyomi. The idea of his own dream of paradise isn’t one with him as a Hatake unnerves Kakashi. He’s been the Hatake Kakashi longer than he’s been Sharingan Kakashi and if anything, he has always prided himself for being a Hatake.

The civilian footsteps stop outside the door again and the same woman peers into the bathroom. “Kelvin! There you are. What are you doing without your clothes on?” She crouches beside him and wrestles his shirt down. “Camellia has waiting for you to go to the playground for almost thirty minutes already.”

She lifts him up and carries him down to the living room where another four-year-old girl holding her mother’s hand is waiting. “Sorry Camellia and Emma, Kelvin was looking for his clothes apparently.”

The older woman chuckles and motions them to the car. “Don’t worry, Niki. I’ll bring them back in time for Kelvin’s party,” she assures the woman

The little girl merely eyes him with a resigned look that Kakashi thinks look out of place on a toddler. “Yo,” he holds his fingers out in a mockery of a peace sign. “I got lost on the road of life.”

The girl startles so badly that he actually think she might be having a seizure and grips his shirt with her chubby hands, blinking furiously at him. “Kakashi?” she whispers.

“Maa… who are you?” Kakashi wonders on how earth this would be his dream paradise. Going on a playdate isn’t his idea of fun - ever,

“It’s Sakura. Haruno Sakura. I thought I was the only one here,” she says, her bottom lip trembling, her green eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I’m so glad that you are here.”

They fall silent as Emma ushers them into the large metal contraption and don’t speak until they are released onto the playground where they walk up the trees and sit on the branches. “It was my fourth birthday last week when I starting remembering. There are no shinobis here, not even the policemen or papa. Papa is a soldier,” she tells him. “They are all civs. No one uses chakra anymore. There aren’t even books about it in the library. It’s not Edo Tensei. Our heart beats, we bleed. We’re not some experimental clones for as far as I can tell. And considering the technology is different here, I fairly certain that this isn’t the Eternal Tsukiyomi either.”

She holds his hand so tightly that his bones creak but Kakashi doesn’t protest.

-/-/-/-

Tony is seventeen when he meets his half-brother. Apparently his father had an affair with a woman and for some unknown reason, included in his father’s will.

“So you’re my little brother,” the teenager says haughtily.

The ten year old looks unimpressed at him. “Kelvin Fields,” the boy says tilts his head to little red head beside him. “This is Camellia Potts. And you are?”

How anyone could have not heard about him boggles him. Tony eyes them with a strange look, unsure what to expect. “Tony Stark, clearly. I didn’t expect the Pott Field twins to come for the will reading.”

The two ten-year-olds don’t act like ten year olds. Their eyes are bland and guarded like Happy’s eyes were when Happy first started working for him. Tony wonders if the students of the school had been mistreating them. Geniuses usually has difficulties fitting in, this Tony knows from personal experience. The cursory checks his lawyers had done on his half-brother had shown that Kelvin was a genius in his own right. Not quite the genius as he is, but smart enough to enter a college at ten years old if he desired so, not smart enough for MIT though. That’s good enough for Tony. Even though they had grown up apart, Tony is going to make sure his half-brother is at least happier. None of that ridiculous legacy that their father had imposed on Tony.

“We’re the Pott Field twins, what were you expecting?” Camelia shrugs and flips her auburn hair over her shoulder. The poor girl must have suffered in school for having hair as red as her namesake. It is true though. According to the checks, Kelvin has never been seen very far from Camelia.

“Maa… Camellia likes to be overprotective,” his new brother drawls and smiles lazily.

“Says the person who decided to beat the 9th grader on our first day in school.”

“He tried to harass you! What kind of fourteen year old harrasses a nine year old?” he grunts.

What kind of nine year old beats up a fourteen year old? Tony wonders. And how?

His new younger brother is a bigger puzzle for him to solve, a puzzle that he’ll enjoy figuring out.

-/-/-/-

Kakashi is in the woods with Sakura for their usual training practice. Just because they are in children’s bodies doesn’t mean that they will let all their honed edge disappear. They spend an hour practicing katas then running slowly through practice spars. The throwing knives that Sakura got from her father are reminiscent of their kunais but not quite the quality they are accustomed to. Still they practice it. Not just throwing knives but everything that they can get their hands on. The world is different and they won’t probably need it, but it’s probably to have the skill than to not have.

In his long forty two years - including the thirty-two years in Konoha era, Kakashi truly appreciates being a kid. When he was twelve, he was in the trenches, killing and dragging dead bodies into scrolls. He was learning to live with the crippling trauma of finding his father dead.

He is twelve now and the scariest thing that has happened to him since he woke up is nearly getting knocked down by a car. Kakashi is certain that even then, he would be able to survive as long as Sakura gets to him first. With all the practice she’s been getting - Kakashi slices his hand to let Sakura practice her medical jutsu and Kakashi running through the handseals for all his trademark jutsus, they have finally built up their chakra storage to something decent.

Sakura dodges his fireball, sweep kicking him and throwing a punch that narrowly misses him. The ground crumbles into a crater around him and she looks smugly at him. “That would be you if I hadn’t intentionally missed.”

“Yes, my great kunoichi. I do not doubt your strength,” Kakashi says. “Just like-”

They freeze at the buzz of the chakra signature on their range, jumping apart, limbs poised for battle.

“Whoa. What on earth made that crater?” Tony says, sliding his sunglasses down to take a closer look at the earth.

Had they had more warning, Kakashi could have covered the ground with an earth jutsu, but they had been sparring and the soft years of being out of battle has lessened their guards.

“Tony. What are you doing here?” Kakashi asks.

“I have a really interesting video, Kelvin.” Tony holds up his phone and sees a footage of him and Sakura sparring. Red and brown streaks across the video, moving too fast for even the camera to catch them. “Really interesting how you two can move faster than the cam can record.”

Kakashi doesn’t bother to glance at Sakura for confirmation. He body flickers to his half-brother, blade pressed against his neck. Sakura watches dispassionately. This is his field of speciality even before Sakura was born.

“Maa… little children shouldn’t be sticking their noses into things they don’t know.”

“Little children?” Tony splutters. “You’re even tinier than me! What on earth is going on?” Sakura takes the phone from his hands, wipes the memories then crushes it with her bare fists. Tony gapes at the crushed metal and back at the little red head. “How? WHAT ON EARTH?”

“Shussh,” Kakashi croons. “Are there backups?”

“Of course, did you think I was stupid? Of course I would have. Now if you kill me, people are going to figure it out.” the man tries to bluster his way out.

Kakashi withdraws his knife, wiping the sweat off. “No backups, Sak. What are we going to do with him?”

He likes Tony truly, but the little boy is self-centered and still very unaware of the treachery out there. For all Tony’s genius intelligence, the Stark is still very incapable of social nuances. Kakashi might not be very much better than him but that’s why most teams had a kunoichi.

“Did you tell anyone?” she asks.

“No, of course not.” Tony looks sullenly at them. “I wasn’t actually going to expose you two. It’s just-”

“A puzzle?” Kakashi arched an eyebrow. “Well, your curiosity could have compromised us and that would have put us in danger.”

“How do you two move so fast anyway?”

Read him in? Kakashi asks with hand signs.

You decide. He’s your brother. Sakura replies.

It would be better to get Tony read in as opposed to him trying to figure it out and letting others find out. If the world finds out that Sakura can heal broken bones with her chakra or him summon lightning with his raikiri, they would never let them go. “Fine,” he sighs. “It’s called chakra enhancement, also please stop calling me Kelvin.”

-/-/-/-

Tony has never wished harder than now, that he had paid more attention to Kakashi’s lessons. Kakashi would have been able to get the hell out of this cave if he was in his place. But that’s moot. He’s been captured and now stuck in here until he can (a) build a missile for these terrorists or (b) that Kakashi and Sakura can come for him. Pepper might be very reluctant to let her baby sister come into hostile zone. But if there’s anyone that could find a needle in a haystack, it would be the two of them.

He’s Tony Stark for fuck sake, there has to be more than two ways of getting out of here and he’s most certainly not going to bend to the terrorists’ whims. Tony uses his insolence like a mask, hiding his true intentions behind a cleverly woven cloth.

The prototype of his mini arc reactor is clumsy at best and his suit works, except he hadn’t counted for the numerous hidden soldiers. He could have made it out, could have. Kakashi would scold him for assuming.

Tony laughs as he bleeds into the sand. He’s not going to hear Sakura nag at him again or Pepper drag him from the labs.

“Tony, look at me,” the red head slaps him on the cheek. He can smell ozone in the air and hear the crunch of sandals on sand. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Sa… ku… ra?” he mutters. “You… came.”

“Damn straight we did. Peps managed to wrangle a helicopter to carry us around. Took us three damn weeks scouring the sand. Do you know how much I hate the desert?” Sakura says. Her hands channeling her minty, cool chakra into his wounds. Kakashi never told him how strange it felt to feel his organs moving and mending itself. “...we used to run to Sunagakure for missions. God how Sai hated it. He would get sunburnt and wouldn’t tell anyone. But he sulked the whole trip.”

“Su...na?”

Sakura digs her fingers into his wounds, retrieving all the bullets. Kakashi bobs into view, his bleached silver fringe flopping over one eye. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Perfectly fine. I’ve healed worse,” she tells Kakashi. For the life of him, Tony can’t imagine how she could have healed worse. He remembers how Kakashi cautions him from telling anyone about their abilities.

‘The world would never let us go,’ his half-brother said more than one time. He couldn’t fathom how breaking ground and running inhumanly fast could be groundbreaking - pun unintended, but now Tony understands. If healing him from the brink of death in a matter of minutes was something Sakura could do, the world would leave her alone. She could revolutionize the medicine world, but despite all the effort Tony had put in to learn this chakra thing, he’s still no closer to mastering their basics.

She straps a splint of wood on his arm and wraps a sling. “If you came out unharmed, it’d be really strange.”

“What are you going to tell them on saving me? What about the terrorists?”

Kakashi gives him a look and Tony wonders if his condescending look looks like that as well. “They’re dead, Tony. Don’t worry about it.”

“But-” he gasps and then takes a good look at the surroundings. There are no bodies. Just blood stains everywhere. “How?”

“Chakra,” Kakashi says, his eyes creasing in mirth but Tony knows better. It might look like a smile to outsiders but it’s just all pretense.

“Stop it,” scolds Tony, and grips his twenty year old brother. “Don’t smile if you don’t want to. Not with us.” Kakashi hauls him over his shoulder. “I mean it.” Tony tells him.

“Okay,” the younger Stark replies in a voice too quiet. “As long as you promise that too.”

-/-/-/-

Kakashi finds Tony in the middle of his lab, trying to drink himself to death. “Tony. Are you okay?”

“Kelvvvinn!” Tony slurs, trying to snatch the bottle back from him. “Come on! Gimmee the bottle back!”

“It’s enough.”

“It’s not! It’ll never be enough! Youuu know whaat they did!?” Tony sobs. He rips his shirt open, tapping on non-existent wounds. “They torrtureed mee Kelvin!”

Kakashi pulls Tony into his side, awkwardly patting him. Torture was never easy, even back then. At least back then, they had Yamanakas to help dampen the freshness of the memories, to shove it back into the back. Tony blabbers on about how the old man had died because of him and that’s when he decides to tell Tony the whole truth.

“I was tortured once before. Several times too. Sakura too.”

Tony peers at him with half-glazed eyes, unfocused eyes with fierce anger behind them. “Who? I’ll burn them!”

“That was before this life. Sakura and I, we remember our past lives. We were shinobis back then. We killed, fought, stole in the name of our villages. I was six when I had my first kill. And spent my ninth birthday out on the fields, killing men twice the size of me to win a war. I was fifteen when a mission went bad and I ended up being tortured.” Kakashi pours a glass of water and hands it to Tony who drinks is obediently, eyes still focused on him. Perhaps it was to console his brother or finally break the silence of his formative years as a shinobi. Regardless of the reason, Kakashi tells the story that no one but the Sandaime knows. It took him fourteen days to escape. Fourteen days that he would never recount to anyone.

“How do you get over it?” Tony finally asks when his story ends.

“You talk about it. Tell it to the people that matter. You never really get over it,” Kakashi tells him honestly. It had taken him forty-nine years to understand it, but late than never as Sakura says. “But you just have to remember that in spite of all the things you’ve been through, there are better things worth living for. And on bad days, you have to remember it.”

“Remember what?”

“That life, is a gift. Because as long as you’re living, you can learn to experience happiness again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tony says and sits up. “Are you telling me that you have memories of a lifetime as a shinobi. Like hundreds and thousands of other people with chakra abilities like yours?”

“Yes…?”

“Jarvis! Bring up chakra articles!” Hundreds of articles scatter across the hologram. Kakashi stares bewildered at them. “So I was thinking if there are other people like you two. Turns out there’s a legend on how martial artists of the past used to be able to use chakra to heal and move fast. No one knows how it works, but there are millions of articles that theorize the use of chakra might be real a thing.”

“Are you saying that there is a possibility that this is the future of the world we died in?”

“I’m saying that it is.”

#fanfiction #Naruto #MCU #hatake kakashi #Tony Stark #Haruno Sakura

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