#post 700

First season Kenji: No boys allowed. No exceptions.

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Hope everyone is having a good holiday. Sending lots of love and hugs ❤️❤️❤️

— Lola + G (@LolaPlusG)

Hey sure! I haven’t watched/read anything past 700, but I’ll defs try :-)

—-

Naruto is so busy.

He has meetings and calls, and the Kages have already scheduled their annual summit in Konoha–and he’s just so busy. 

He never realised just how much work went into being a Hokage until the hat was finally placed on his head.

Konohamaru’s in his office now. He’s speaking, or complaining more like it. Boruto. That’s what Naruto understands. Konohamaru’s complaining about Boruto.

“He’s just—I don’t know what to do, Hokage-sama.”

“Just Naruto,” he corrects for the nth time, but knows it’s pointless. Konohamaru is a stickler for all things respect and custom. Finally, he looks up, noticing the exasperated expression on Konohamaru’s face. “Have you tried scolding him?”

“Scolding him? Hokage-sama, I do not have the authority to scold him. Besides, it’s obvious what he wants.” 

“Which is?”

The door opens then, only by a few inches, but Naruto’s senses automatically detect the change in presence. He sits up then, straight and still. It only takes a few seconds before Sasuke steps into the room, dark cloak billowing behind him. 

With his eyes locked on his best friend, Naruto speaks. “Konohamaru, we’ll chat another time. On your way out, tell Shizune to cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.” 

“But boss–” Konohamaru moves to interrupt. It’s then that he senses the strange change in the air. When he turns to face Sasuke, Naruto can see the fight leaving him. “Okay.” 

Once Konohamaru leaves, Sasuke slinks forward and sits in the previously occupied chair. His hair is long, dark as always; inky, like the shadows of the night. It’s smoother, less erratic, especially compared to the style Sasuke used to sport in the past. Naruto quite likes it. He wonders if it’s soft to touch.

“Naruto.” 

The blonde’s attention is completely stolen by Sasuke. Naruto can’t help the grin that spreads across his lips.

“Hi.” 

“You’ve been in here a lot,” Sasuke notes, staring at the endless amount of documents on the table. “No time to leave?”

“Been keeping track of me, huh?” Naruto says with a wide smile. The idea of Sasuke noticing his absence makes him feel bubbly inside. 

“Hn,” the man grunts. “I saw Boruto acting up in the streets. You should take better care of him.” 

Frowning, Naruto nods thoroughly. Serious. “I’ll speak with him today. Thank you for letting me know.” 

Sasuke flicks through one of the documents. What Naruto should be doing is grabbing the sheet of paper out of the man’s hand. This room is filled with confidential material. But, he doesn’t. The only person Naruto thinks he trusts more than Sasuke is his own mother. 

“I’ll be leaving today. For a few months.” 

“Oh,” Naruto’s voice plummets, but he shakes his head and forces himself to perk up. He forgot he assigned that mission to Sasuke. “Send me frequent updates.” 

In his moodiness, Naruto only vaguely notes the slight upturn of Sasuke’s lips. Something small. Something fond. 

“I will.” Sasuke stands up then, wrapping the coat further around his body. He nods his head once, a short but sharp little thing. “I wanted to say goodbye before I left. Take care, Naruto. I’ll be back soon.” 

And if Naruto feels a rush of butterflies in his stomach, a strange airiness to his fingers, he ignores it. He ignores the sensations running through him. The warmth, the happiness, the… affection that blooms because of Sasuke’s promise. 

“The death of a bachelor seems so fitting for happily ever after” {closed starter with @red-e2fite}

Shiro never paid many of the alphas any mind, in fact he wasn’t supposed to. He, and the other bartenders, were the literal meat that were used to draw in all the power hungry alphas from around the city. Altea wasn’t the only omega staffed bar, but it was the only one that used it as their main marketing scheme.

All regulations were made an effort to show off every worker’s omega traits, which included their scent glands. It was mandatory for employees’ hair to be tied up or cut short enough to expose their necks. Wristbands with the altea logo were given to each bartender for ‘branding purposes,’ but everyone knew it was to have something constantly rubbing at their wrists and keeping the air Omega Fresh™. All female omegas wore black, low-cut crop tops and shorts that barely made it to their legs, while males were shirtless with jeans tight enough to nearly see through. The only bartender that broke the uniform rule was Shiro.

Shiro always wore a black tank top during his shifts. It didn’t hide a lot but it covered what he wanted it to. And still he was Altea’s most popular bartender, so management didn’t bother to argue. His muscles and visible scars were enough to drive the power hungry alphas wild. After all, scars meant he liked it rough in the eyes of an alpha.

    A meager sensation of satisfaction fills the space in his bones and replaces the air in his lungs. Just from the muscle in his tightening fist he realizes he’s surpassed who he was a month ago, who’s surpassed who he was a month before, who’s surpassed who he was before then. But it’s not the be-all end-all of the mountain. It’s the first step. And it will always be the first step, until there are no more steps to climb and no more rungs on the ladder. It will always be square one. It will never be good enough.

             It can’t be good enough. Not until he can swat planets with the back of his hand will he rest. Not until every bone in his body creaks and shatters will he relent. Not until he can face Kakarot once more and smirk before their clash rips the continent apart. And then, when he stands triumphant over the body of that traitor, then he can say it’s good enough.