❝ i'm sorry too, lee. ❞ a calloused hand finds it's place gently on lee's shoulder. ❝ my body tends to move on it's own, it wasn't my intention to make you feel like you needed protection. ❞ that's nothing but natural isn't it, if you love something, treassure something, you protect it. even if unceccessarily, at times, lee was strong, HOW COULD HE NOT BE, gai made sure of that. and still. one hand remains on lee's shoulder, the other moves up to playfully tap his darling boy's forehead.

and gai smiles, unashamed and unabashed, spilling clearly his emotions for they were never something he intended to hide. ❝ well then -- my sweet, powerful boy. next time you protect me, hm? ❞

breathing had become an arduous effort, accompanied with terrible pain each time his chest lifted. covered in vein like scars from head to toe, gai had yet to get a good look of himself in a mirror; proof of what he had done, proof of what he had, miracolously, survived. a blessing, he reminds himself through the agony, as tired eyes gaze outside his window, occasionally one or the other bird flew past. the distant sounds of konoha's busy main strees had long since become white noise.

tsunade-sama personally told him of what gai had done, who he had killed; the ghost of the uchiha, the newborn god of chakra -- gai had greatly contributed to saving the world. the jônin had yet to process everything, the praise, the world still turning. he had done it to protect the next generation, to not have neij's death be in vain, to protect tenten, but most of all, JUST LIKE DAI HAD DONE BACK THEN, he subjected himself to a death most painful to protect his boy.

and, oh, the smile that seemed to appear on it's own accord the moment lee stepped in his room. relief washed over him like a tidal wave, despite already knowing his son was safe. ❝ [ . . . ] my boy -- ❞ his voice lacked the usual strength, LOUD, unabashed and unashamed, but the warmth remained. he faced madara uchiha thinking he'd never see his darling son ever again, but now there he stands, and gai cannot help but grow emotional over how much lee grew.

gai knows well the horror of watching your father open the gate of death, it pains him that he put his own son through this neccessary anguish. his hand lifts, the movement was slow, and he heardly surpressed a grunt of pain -- but that hardly matters now. ❝ more precious -- than the air in my lungs. come here? ❞

almost feline like in his movements, the nibi's host inches closer; he is buzzing with energy and the urge to release it; to break, sweat and bleed. a sentiment the other can understand, and shares, he hopes dearly -- unsure of what of him was nature and what was molded by experiences and his father. ❝ i bet you're really strong. ❞

a bandaged hand reaches upwards, brushes the tail end of the, perhaps, most drastic visual difference between the two. the honey yellow scarf losely wrapped around his neck; entirely missing from his brother.

❝ you and me against sensei and papa -- the taijutsu battle of the century, that'd be fun. ❞ of course he'd never say no to a friendly battle of fists with lee either, but he really wanted to put his maito gai to the acid test. a maito gai who, impossibly, did not know the details and depths of the hot fist lee created years ago. how'd he react, how'd he adapt, would he get him before the tide of battle changes? unlikely. a bandaged fist playfully and lightly, in the standards of a taijutsu master, jabs at the other's biceps. ❝ JUST SAYING. ❞

questions only sentence starters 🌕 @beatstalent

initial reaction were a question of if she looked human, but those words aren't allowed to escape--inner thought buried away and tossed aside for it would serve her no purpose.

even so, he will serve little purpose either: he has already discovered her secret. then again, kokushibō sees no nichirin...rather calm, for one not a slayer either. he's either brave, or a fool.

she's not quite sure which.