#icecurse

Asanoha took comfort in the gentle pressure of Haku's head resting on her shoulder. How long had it been since the two of them had gotten a chance to sit in each other's company and just catch up without having to put up a mask? She let out a breathy giggle, barely audible and only meant for Haku's ears.

"You know I don't get tired of hearing about what you have happening in your day to day. You're much more involved in the village than I am." she answered, while leaning her own weight against them and grasping Haku's hand loosely.

"Hmm, I've been great. Life has been... calm." A nicer way of saying uneventful; Boring even.

"Shion is growing. I sort of get reminded of how it was watching Shizuma grow up. He thinks the world of him. And sometimes I wonder if maybe I instilled that in him too. We'll have to come stay in Kirigakure for a bit. I have been thinking that maybe it'll be good... to have Shion in the village more permanently, actually. So maybe my favorite cousin would like to help me find a place?"

it’s easy to get lost in his own mind while watching haku work, so he instead makes his way over to where they’re kneeling in fresh soil, resting a hand atop their head, and when they lean back to look up at him, zabuza’s hand slides to brush dirt from their cheek.

“go shower. you reek.”

     @icecurse​ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ: ryōgi sticks a finger in shinki’s iron cloak and writes “you stink” in it like an etch-a-sketch.

     Shinki bristles with the feeling of Ryōgi’s finger in his iron and the cloak follows. He feels like the jars of slime he’s seen children of the village showing off to their friends, poked and prodded at like a toy. And he can assure... his iron sand is not a toy.

It had been weeks now since Kyojuro had returned to them on the verge of death... and since then Shinjuro had quite a lot of time to come to his senses. At first he had been determined to remain by his eldest sons side until he woke... before realizing that by doing that he was only abandoning Senjuro in a different way than he already had. These days guilt was a constant companion harbored in the elders chest, an emotion he had no idea how to deal with. But he would try...

It simply took a couple days to gather the courage to do so. Standing outside of Senjuro's room for God knows how long, Shinjuro stared at the door for some time before he cleared his throat and lifted his free hand, he slid the door open partially. "Senjuro?" His voice was quieter than usual, holding very little of the commanding nature he had for all these years.

senjuro mouths "i'm so sorry"

sharing moments of extended silence with haku had never unnerved neji.  quite contrarily,   it seemed cathartic to be able to cling to the quiet, near-meditative state so innate to his reticent existence  ───   a courtesy rarely spared towards him in other interactions of a social nature.   so enraptured in the healing experience the twining of their serene energies evoked,   he fails to note haku’s vacant expression.   that glassy-eyed, parted-lip kind of deep contemplation that often spoke volumes of the danger ( read: mischief ) forming its genesis in the boundless lands of their lush inner world. 

as such, their zany question falls hard and unexpected against the shell of his ear.  it draws a long pause from neji,  chopsticks placed elegantly atop his rice with furikake,   cheeks yet full of his snack and moonescent features impassive even as his mind struggles to grasp at least the essence of what had just been spoken.   the moment extends like the lethargic,  unfurling tendrils of a bud’s new roots reaching down towards the earth for stability and nourishment when he swallows and actually begins to entertain the whimsical notion.    this is far from the worst or weirdest thing haku has ever suggested,    yet even in moments where the oddity of what their lovely warble emits far exceeds the boundaries of his patience,   beliefs,    or rationality,    neji could never deny them the attempt to at least consider whatever wild thought their brain had decided to spring upon him this time. 

with the softest of sighs,  he places his elbow against their kitchen counter by which he sat and leans a hollowed cheek against his worn palm.   he doesn’t doubt that haku had the potential tame a bear because they were among the most capable people he had ever come across,    to the extent where their talents rivaled and,   at times,   exceeded his own.    ( a rarity for someone as prodigal as neji,   who had struggled for most of his life to find people or situations that could truly challenge him )   ever practical,    the predicament this venture posed upon his logic now was   a.) how they would even manage to care for such a beast   b.)  what amount of paperwork they might be mired with to officially register a pet of this caliber.

from some aimless direction within their nearby living room,   neji heard susumu sniff forcefully in her sleep.    the reminder that they already had his therapy dog to suffice them in whatever furry companionship they might crave sobers his introspection,    making finite the decision he should have made from the very start.  his deep drawl softens,   monotonous tone low and gentle with inflections of kindness the same as when he would explain a new concept to his nephew.