#kkjodai

prompts | always accepting

the question pulls him just tentatively out of his train of thought, and giyuu's face twitches. too-blue eyes dart to the checkered haori of the young slayer, brows rising for just a moment. " ghosts? " giyuu asks, mulling over the word on his tongue. he hadn't expected the topic, but he wants to still give it the proper weight and consideration the boy seems to want. it isn't like tanjiro to ask aimless questions, at least... there always seems to be a point to them, a reason for bringing them up. ghosts, though... is a new one.

he slides his hand against the red-sided sleeve of his haori, brushing it aside thoughtfully as his eyes dip to the ground, tracing lines into the dirt. giyuu's hands drop back down to his side, and he views tanjiro again out of the corner of his eye. " I don't know. "

❛⠀why, you— is this because the sand doesn't really celebrate it ? ❜ listen, does sakura have any truthful idea what's going on with shikamaru and a certain sand kunoichi ? no. her best informant is someone whose gossip source can range from being 100% absolutely accurate to 100% absolutely someone-just-telling-her-to-sensationalise-an-event. now, does sakura still listen to each one of them with absolute intensity ? irrelevant to the discussion ( yes ) ! point is, sakura could feel one of her eye twitch and her mouth scowling at their generation's best genius quite annoyedly.

waaaah, just because he's a hot-shot now, he's going around trying to pull at other people's sympathy, huh. don't think she doesn't know the amount of chocolate he'd gotten from the barrier and seals team and whatever older nins he's intelligent-talked his way into impressing them when he's the mediator for the shinobi allies !

❛⠀come here, ❜ she commands, pointing to the row of shelves housing the more expensive boxes of chocolates, all of which had its own unique, darker flavours. serves him right for following her into the confectionary shop ! also possibly in his effort to try and take a break from all the responsibilities she knows he's shouldered, which ... in truth, is why she never really chased him away. it's fine, really, but given that he's already here... ❛⠀choose your own chocolate. i know you already know that i got you, chōji, and ino a different set than the rest, so you might as well choose the one you'll most likely enjoy. i don't care how expensive it is. plus— ❜

sakura nudges his shoulder, and should their eyes lock, sakura grins, giving a thumbs up. ❛⠀this might be the last year you'll get a specialised one from me ! but seriously, you're a great guy, shikamaru. a bit of a coward when it comes to your love interest admittedly, but ... it's just a festivity. it's the sentiment that matters. don't always try to logic your way out or into things, you know ? do it because you want to. do it because ... she's there, and you could. ❜ here, sakura smiles softly, picking up a box of chocolate and snacks chōji would enjoy. ❛⠀sometimes that's all that matters. ❜

you chose : giving my muse a box of chocolates !

❛⠀you, um, what — ❜

iruka's blush descends full force. gah ! and here he thought— he doesn't know what he thought. with kakashi, it's a one-day-at-a-time affair, that sometimes trickle itself into a one-minute-at-a-time ceremony. and he knows that they're good ( mostly ), and he knows that the thing between them is tentative and soft, like the bud of a flower attempting to bloom, but no one tells you, do they ? how scary it all is, as well, in the meantime. and you might think that it's the fear of being with the copy nin that terrifies iruka, the risk of being hurt by the man who has hurt many, but how conceited would the academy teacher risk sounding if he admits that it is his own hands he's scared of ? kakashi is as soft as the fold of a leaf, and just as fleeting.

what would he want with a man who is long rooted ?

iruka's heart pounds, and he could feel the strength in his legs give out, though he's quick to position his body into a squat as it does. a hand shoots outwards, stopping any attempt from the other for help, while iruka puts his other hand across his face, like he could mask the already horrible shade of dark red his face has certainly coloured itself into. something that sounds horribly like mizuki warns him to cut this loss quick. that they've had their fun. that clearly one day this man would take his time contemplating and never return. no one could really withstand the type of love iruka pours, after all. you're a giver, iru, mizuki's voice adds, calm and surprisingly seductive. but not everyone has the 'cup' to take it.

and yet still, through it all, iruka could feel his fierce stubbornness interjects. this must be what his parents have long planted, and what the sandaime has encouraged in all the ways he'd hidden a smirk for every time iruka's dragged into the hokage office in his youth, made to explain another prank he's been caught executing. it throbs in him: i will be brave. where he hesitates, i'll stand firm. where he flickers, i'll stay standing. this is what love is to me. this is what i'll definite it by. and i have to trust that one day the fullness of my feelings will reach him rather than scare him away. and even if one day it'll fail, this time will not be wasted. i do love him. so, i must be brave.

and iruka nods, finally opening his palm to accept the gift. ❛⠀sorry. you caught me off-guard. um. thank you. i'll cherish it. ah— i had some chocolate i've baked for you too. and some eggplant i just bought because, um, i'd wanted to cook miso soup with eggplants for uh... the next time you're staying over. but i guess you've caught me this time, huh, kakashi-san ? ❜ and iruka smiles, a bit boyish and earnest, the price of his bravery.

iruka is quiet.

there are probably a hundred different ways iruka could reply this with, he thinks. most of them, no doubt, would categorically be something along the line of bashfulness and giddiness, seeing as this sentence is no doubt a compliment. iruka, however, doesn't think so. and maybe it's cruel, or unfair, but there are often time in his life that he thinks hatake kakashi to be so outrageously out of his league; not necessarily due to their ranks, though he supposes sometimes it didn't help but more so of the fact that their life experiences clearly have shaped them so differently. have put kakashi so far in a place iruka couldn't even dream to reach for him to console him about, let alone to protect him from it. this moment might suddenly be one of it.

the master of distant meeting the inevitable routine of mundaneness; one of the reasons, iruka would expect, many shinobis would've wagered to be the reason that they might soon not work out, had they been clever enough to pick up on it. and iruka does get it. maybe if he were in literally any other shoes besides his own, he might have thought the same thing. hell, things like this made him want to swallow the difficult rock that maybe one day kakashi would gather his wit and decide for himself that iruka simply hadn't cut it. too homebody to understand, too simplistic for anything far complex. and he couldn't even blame either of them for it.

still. iruka answers, calmer than he expects, over the steaming cup of black tea he's made for himself; kakashi's own blend has been passed to him. ❛⠀ah, then you'll have to forgive me, kakashi-san. i don't share the sentiment. ❜

iruka looks to the ceiling, wondering how else could he have elaborated it with, and finally decides, around a small, reluctant smile, to answer with the truth : ❛⠀i think sometimes you might have ... i'm not sure, but it feels like you might hold this idea of me, like i'm untainted or i'm virtuous or that the choice of my career, and the way that i am, puts me in a different league than you. and i feel like i couldn't blame you for assuming so. skill-wise, you're one of the greats. experiences-wise, you've endured far more difficult things than i could fully comprehend. but i also wish some times you might not constrict me to an idea, kakashi-san, rather than see me for who i am. ❜

a pause. ❛⠀i'm prone to explosive temper, for instance, but you've always handled me with grace. even in that misunderstanding in regards to the chūnin exams, you were ... yeah, vicious, in your response, but you've never once insulted my position even if you could've had. you're thoughtful, too. far more than you probably give yourself credit for. you never outrightly put down or coldly dismiss gai-san's insistent challenges, for one, even on days i know you don't have the energy for it. and despite the attempt at nonchalance, you do listen whenever i need to rant. you're prone to avoiding when you're overwhelmed as well, but i know you check up often on your students and any personnel you've had under you. i don't know, sounds to me like the good you have has always come from you. ❜

iruka smiles some more, before he finally turns and dump what's left of his black tea in the sink. iruka watches the darkened water goes into the drain, before he turns the knob to run the water, and begins washing. ❛⠀i'm relieved, of course, that you think that highly of me, but i hope you don't. i'm quite flawed too. i'd hope the person i'm seeing would also come to like me enough to accept me on days i'm difficult and hard to be with, just as i'm ready to be with them even through the days when they're difficult and hard to be with. ❜ iruka cuts the water then, and wipes his hand.

finally he turns again, glad to see that kakashi hasn't flickered away. and then slowly, calmly, he crosses the distance and puts his hands over kakashi's cup, pulling it down. iruka takes a short breath in, gathering courage, before he surges ahead, and brush his lips across a covered cheek.

❛⠀you're already good, and i'm very, very, thankful i could see it up-close. so let me see it for some time more, hm ? if that's allowed ? ❜

memories do not come easily to remon.

or rather, memories, to her, have become something as unpredictable as the changing weather. some moments, she remembers with absolute clarity. some days, she must try harder trying to remember how she'd gotten to where she is, and in whose company has she come to surround herself with. names slip by her easily, the dates slip by easier. she tries to keep track of it, though, recognising the scuff marks of her own fingers thumbing through the printed calendar of her small journal she now does not go without.

there is one memory in particular amidst all of the new one she's gathering that she seems to recall now, like she'd only experience it mere minutes ago, of a thriving civilian port town that smells more of saltwater than air. where the seagulls had sang so frequently, and the sea gleamed for miles and miles. lord akitsuki had gotten horribly sick from whatever they've eaten just the afternoon, so remon had taken it upon herself to explore the town on her own. she'd met some nice gentlemen who had invited her to dance that night with them, and there was a thrill to the invitation that had pulled an agreement from her without fight.

returning to the accommodations they were staying, lady asaki had scolded her so thoroughly upon hearing her plan. no respectable young lady would be out so late in the evening, lady remon ! which she remembers had baffled her so thoroughly, but had birthed in her a streak of shame as well. would she not be respectable had she went out to dance ? is it looked down upon ? eventually, lady asaki had approached her again and apologised. i shouldn't be so harsh, she said, taking remon's hand and clasping it between her own wrinkled ones. she squeezes, once, twice. remon remembers that. she does that often, like it was something she'd always done. maybe it had been. and there is nothin wrong with dancing. this is the point we're travelling, isn't it ? i just — worry.

and then ...

and then the memory fizzles, and no matter how much remon tries to capture it now, it flutters away. still, the sentiment of it all stays. remon isn't so blind to understand that she is daughter of a wealthy man hailing from a family with an honourable reputation; that there are decorum and appropriate behaviour she must adhere to. and surely, konohamaru-san's invitation does not exactly fall under anything that could be judged as seemly. ( and remon does remember him since they've met again. had sketched his name into her notebook the moment she'd gotten it. the blue scarf !! she'd written his name with. blue scarf, brown hair, tall, shinobi. kind eyes. he is important, she writes some more. remember him!!! )

after all, what sort of gentleman would ask for a lady's night like that ?

and yet —

the answer seems to come out of her immediate, breathless. ❛⠀yes, ❜ she says, hopeful and bright and awed, smiling. ❛⠀of course. what will we do ? where will you take me ? ❜ will it be far away ? will it be some place where it will only be you and me ? would lady asaki scold me again for agreeing so recklessly to a man like this ? though i would defy her, i think. i would defy her for a night with you. take me to the stars, konohamaru-san. or just — take me closer to you. would that be okay ?

RANDOM TEXT MESSAGE PROMPTS. 

[ message sent : yuugi → jonouchi ] ah?? of course you can.

[ message sent : yuugi → jonouchi ] i've got a guest room open for you.

❛⠀why, you— DO I LOOK LIKE A NURSE ?! ❜ she yells, one hand curling into a fist and sakura raises it, before propriety and decorum rushes into her and reels her temper straight. the pink-haired kunoichi huffs, then allows a bit of shame to colour her cheeks pink. she barrels on to explain : ❛⠀not that— not that there's anything wrong with a nurse. we do need their help a lot, especially given the influx of people we're still treating. ❜ the term, in and of itself, is still new; coined recently by tsunade-sama when she'd begun hiring civilians to fill in the obvious gap between medic-nins and warded patients.

today, their works have been hugely streamlined into attending everything a medic-nin simply have no hands for : from the detailed administrative work, to ensuring assigned patients remained with the treatment plans which have been implemented to them, and whatever's in between. sakura admires all the nurses greatly. they may not all have the chakra, or the ability to wield them enough nor sufficiently, which medic-nins were usually known for, but there is something to be said about their grit and resilience when they could hold their own against stubborn and injured shinobis. of course, about one-third of their shinobi population would disappear half-way through their treatment out of sheer stubbornness and wounded pride, and even then, the nurses would cleanly annotate the incident and report the severe cases when needed.

what she means is, sakura isn't ashamed of being mistaken as a nurse. it's just— well, maybe it grates on her nerves that kakashi-sensei would think that that's all medical staff do, even if she knows, realistically, he, among most, might have more insight into the hospital staff's purview than just attending to their bedside manners when it involves obnoxious jōnins. why, even thinking about it again makes her blood boil— sakura chooses instead to practise the meditation ritual kurenai-sensei had hooked her into doing years ago during the few times she'd been invited into team eight's practises. hinata had told her once that kurenai-sensei had only ever introduced that to their routine due to her anxiety, and maybe to reel in kiba-kun's high energy – both reasons sakura finds no fault within.

she'd taken hinata's hands in hers then, and squeezed. insisted that that would mean kurenai-sensei's a pretty amazing jōnin-sensei, huh ? to have watched out for what her student needs. i think that's pretty cool. sakura wonders now, years down the line, if kurenai-sensei had roped her in as well due to her temper. or maybe she, too, could recognise the swell of anxiousness each time sakura thinks she's not improving quickly enough to meet the expectation set by the team members who have long left the village's perimeter. i was chasing after shadows and still, i was far behind.

sakura shakes away the memory. she glares down kakashi-sensei instead. ❛⠀next time, just— tell me i'm doing a good job or something instead of .... ❜ deflecting it in rhymes and paraphrases. though sakura doesn't finish the train of thought. how could she deserve it, when she couldn't even withstand the genjutsu sasuke-kun trapped her in ? maybe this is why kakashi-sensei left her behind, too. ❛⠀it's fine. i'm glad you came for your check-up, kakashi-sensei. tell me, how's the adjustment with the new eye ? any differences from before the new implant ? ❜

lee finds himself, momentarily, frozen in place by the youth's words, he swears his heart, too, forgot how to beat for a moment or two. his fingers twitch, and the maito is grateful for a lack of open flame nearby. control / / / HE NEEDS TO GROUND HIMSELF. find his center and breath, breath, just breath. gai had taught him how; though lee found it still difficult. ❝ [  .  .  .  ] konohamaru. ❞

the hell was he supposed to answer to that?

it's bad enough that konohamaru steadily reminds the jônin of how, and what, he used to be. younger, and so full of drive, eager to prove himself worthy to the world. AND LEE PROVED HIMSELF, ARLIGHT / / / look where it's gotten him. danzo had him well under his thumb, and team gai, his family, had a kunai at their throat. and konoha's praise, after years of ridicule and scorn, tasted bitter and hollow.

and for only a moment he toys with the idea, to unleash the preassure and grief upon sweet, innocent, konohamaru. ( i love myself but i hate the way i am; or sometimes i dream about konoha's destruction but it doesn't feel like a nighmare anymore ) he can't tell that to konohamaru, the honored sandaime's grandson, THE ONE WHO IDLY STOOD BY WHILE DANZO SPREAD CORRUPTION. sarutobi-sama was the hokage, he must've known, why didn't he act. why didn't he act. lee wants to yell, he wants to demand / / / AS IF KONOHAMARU HAD ANSWERS.