#nikushiimi

'don't let them take me away again, please, please, please.' - baby sasuke in tt au :)

Carson's sullen glare feels like it's drilling holes in the side of his head from where he's folded away in the back of the cop car. They were magnanimous enough to uncuff him when his nose wouldn't stop bleeding twenty minutes ago. Sasuke hasn't left his side since they got here, alternating between crying silently and giving the officers a sullen glare, tucked under his arm with his cheek pressed to Kakashi's sore ribs.

Write a callout on my muse.

‘i don’t want any more regrets.’ - for yamato

"Oh, is that all it takes?" Yamato asks drily, not pausing his pour of tea into Sasuke's cup. "Saying it makes it so?"

He pours himself a cup next, and then sets the kettle over on the stove. His kitchen is cramped, but at least as more and more buildings are set up, he doesn't have to share his space with other jounin anymore. He wasn't sure if Sasuke was willing to accept his invitation for tea when he'd offered it-- wasn't even sure if he'd wanted Sasuke to accept or not when he'd offered it.

But here he is.

"It's an admirable goal, Sasuke," he settles into the chair across from him, running his finger around the rim of his cup. "What are you doing to reach it?"

“And how does it feel to be survived by the man that murdered yours? Only just to discover he was just a puppet in this game, never a player, alas… it was too late to do anything about it isn’t that right?” His tone was a positive yet sharp. He offered a shrug. “You win some you lose some. I’ve given everything I have to what I thought was right.”

" what's that mean ? " his tears had subsided to pathetic sniffles nearly an hour ago, but naruto's cheeks are still pink with the winter chill. his eyes, swollen as they find sasuke's unimpressed expression, retreat to the safety of his reflection where it's distorted in his ramen broth. there is no need to feign ignorance. naruto is two days into a break-up that still stings. sasuke, in his infinite kindness, had accompanied him to ichiraku to get his mind off the ' i think your heart belongs to someone else ' letter he'd received from his ex-girlfriend just a day before the conclusion of his month-long diplomatic excursion in kumogakure.

as the ramen establishment's most loyal customer, he usually occupies a spot at the counter for idle chat with teuchi and ayame, but finds it easier to sit at a small table set at the side of the building with company. a new part-timer had brought them their food just a few minutes ago. naruto can see her staring at them from the corner of his eye ... probably because he looks like a mess. he tries to grin. it's awkward. his eyes don't scrunch shut the way they do when he's happy enough to let his smile claim the entirety of his face. " what, you think i should go to her place and ask her to take me back or something ? " he contemplates it a brief moment, but drowns the thought in a spoonful of scalding-hot broth.

“I  am  not     …     ”   He  pauses   -   lime-green  jello  ?   Kids  these  days  will  come  up  with  anything.   Though,  he's  sure  the  lingo  of  his  youth  was  just  as  confusing  to  his  elders.   

“I  am  not  whatever  you're  insinuating  I  am.” 

zabuza is healing from loving a country that only saw him as a tool. a demon, a mongrel, disposable. he's healing from letting that country he loves so much make him believe he was nothing better than a tool, while he fought tooth and nail to make it better.

he has a kind of love in his heart that he doesn't understand. he grew up during the bloody mist, where value was only seen in power. skill. how you could contribute to making kiri untouchable. all zabuza knows is blood, but he loves his village; he's not just loyal to it, he loves it enough to want to fix what he feels is broken. to do this, he has to redirect the power, except the only way he knows how to do that is through brute force. he is the unhealed product of his environment, attempting to make change with nothing but a love he doesn't know what to do with.

realizing that he is human, that he doesn't want any of this at the cost of haku's life, that he actually wants to see the future he dreams of for kiri is as daunting as it is invigorating. learning the truth of the bloody mist and the involvement of madara is even worse, because while that problem can be dealt with, kiri is still left with the aftermath of it. with people who believe that the bloody mist was the righteous way for the land and won't quit in trying to bring it back, and the outsiders that will only see violence instead of a rich, strong culture.

he's allowing himself to believe in his worth as a human being with feelings, and allowing himself to form genuine connections, while also still maintaining who he is at his very core. this, for him, is healing. his desires for revolution in kiri aren't any different, but his outlook on life— and why he's doing this— are no longer governed by obligation. he's allowing himself to be run by his emotions for once, using both his brain and heart to rid his home of its rot without destroying its roots.