#unwavering

The title "不坠" also comes from a well-known poem in the Tang dynasty by Wang Bo (王勃), called "A Tribute to Duke Teng's Tower" (滕王阁序)

穷且益坚，不坠青云之志。

"Even in adversity, one grows only more steadfast, never letting fall the aspiration to rise as high as the blue clouds.”

As per request, 不坠 is finally here! There's still no PV so I did some light editing to make it visual as well. This is such a special song to me, and I hope I did it justice :') I really wanted Unwavering and Unenlightened to come as a pair so I've been holding it off. But I'm so happy it's finally here!

The audio drama team really put so much love and effort into making these songs and I think they're perfect for XL and HC (ಥ﹏ಥ)♥ Unbelievably grateful that I can experience this masterpiece of media and share it with you guys!

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☆ Masterlist ✨

The focus in the striking green eyes of this beautiful feline is just captivating.

this is for @snuggleboots (taglist is open) this is what happens if you rant to me about your favorite character - I can't help but write about them.

Warnings: Reader is dealing with psychological aspects of her work and she's having trouble with alcoholism. Please do not read if this triggers you.

This is going to be a longer fic, I've already written four more parts and am currently working on the ending.

Masterlist

“Aunty!” Little Ino’s voice is so much like herself - hard to ignore. 

“Hey, Princess.” You drop low to grab her and throw her up in the air, catching her easily in your arms when she comes down giggling.

“You have a new Lipstick!” Ino points out, sticky fingers already on your mouth.

“Hmm. Do you like the color?”

“It’s pretty.”

“You think so? You wanna try too?”

“I can?” Ino asks, blue eyes wide in excitement.

“Why not?” You ask back just as her mother steps out of the shop. “But it will be our secret.” You whisper into your niece's ear and she giggles, clutching you a little tighter.

“What a bold choice.” Your sister-in-law points out when you enter the flower shop with Ino still secure in your arms. 

“You think so?” You smile at yourself in the big window and wipe some lipstick off that Ino had smeared before. “I think it could be a little brighter.”

“I won’t tell you what to wear for work, but is it really the right attire to work at the shop?” 

You press a kiss to Ino’s left cheek instead of answering, exaggerate the noise, and repeat it on the other side of her face. She giggles, unaware of the red blooming on her cheeks now. 

“I think it suits me just fine.” You tell your sister-in-law and turn back to the window, pointing Ino’s reflection out to her. “What do you think, Ino-chan?”

“It’s so pretty!”

-

“Stocking up?” Ibiki’s so close his chest bumps into your back as you wait in line. There are five bottles of wine, two bottles of Sake, and a six-pack of cheap bear in your baskets, crushing a bag of instant ramen under their weight.

“Oh, I’m having a party.” You lie effortlessly and turn to smile up at him.

That’s the most infuriating thing about Ibiki. No matter how bright your lipstick or low-cut your top is, his eyes never leave your eyes when he’s talking to you. You wonder if he’s learned to read them.

“Great.” His voice is so dry he could very well be reading a phone book out loud. “When is it? I’ll bring the snacks.”

“You’re not invited.” You turn back and start unloading your stuff, scrambling to pull your wallet out in time to pay.

“Put in on my tab.” Ibiki orders behind you. “If you’re free this evening, I need to discuss next week's interrogations with you.”

You sigh and pack your groceries back into your basket, silently enjoying how the Ramen noodles crunch under the weight of the wine bottles.

“Can it wait until after I had Dinner?” You ask when he puts his wallet away, his own basket a stark contrast to yours. It’s filled with fresh vegetables and a square package that’s either meat or fish. It’s so healthy, it could give you hives.

Instead of answering he puts one hand on your elbow. He doesn’t need to put any pressure into the touch to let you know to start walking. 

Only when you’re outside the store he starts talking again.

“I’ll cook,” he orders, his voice making it clear that he’s not going to take no for an answer, “Your dinner will just leave you unable to talk.”

Shame burns in your veins as you keep walking, unable to speak.

Your last physical had been a few weeks ago but not even Tsunade telling you to lower your Alcohol intake had made you feel this way. After all, who was she to talk?

.

Ibiki slips his shoes off before he steps inside his apartment and you follow his example awkwardly. Inside, the fattest cat you’ve ever seen trots up to your colleague and rubs itself on his leg, purring so loud you wonder if it’s really an animal and not something else.

“This is Neko.” Ibiki introduces you. “She is very friendly.”

Neko looks up at you as if she wants to disagree. There’s no purring for you, instead, she shows you her ass and walks away.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll start cooking.”

“Can I help?”

“Can you?” He asks back, slipping out of his coat. “Cook, I mean?”

Shame burns through you again. Every other time this topic came up it made you look rebellious and cool to women and a femme fatale to the guys. 

In front of Ibiki, you feel like even more of a failure.

“I’m not stupid.” You bark out and he nods.

“You can cut the vegetables.”

-

“This is Ibiki Morino.” Inochi gestures at the guy in front of you. “You’re going to work together from now on.”

“Why?” You ask, eyeing him curiously. You know Ibiki. You’d been one year behind him in the academy, but other than that you hadn’t interacted much. 

He’d always been just one of the guys, not as memorable as Kakashi nor as flirtatious as Genma. Not a pervert and not someone to lust after. Just… Ibiki.

You, on the other hand, should be well-known to him.

“He’s been made Jonin recently,” Inoichi explains and you straighten in interest.

“Can’t he talk for himself?” You ask because you hate that he’s made Jonin before you. Even if he’s one year older than you, you’ve been handled as the Families Genius for years.

“He can.” Ibiki’s voice is deep, even at sixteen. “I’m going to be assistant to the leader of the Intelligence Division.” 

You gape in shock, turning back to your brother. “I was going to be assistant!” 

You know you sound like a petulant child, but he’d promised you this position the moment he’d known he’d become Leader.

Inoichi has the decency to look ashamed. Ibiki looks like he could care less.

“Since your abilities are so similar, the Hokage thought it would be better to have someone else take the role of the assistant.” Ibiki points out dryly. “But I hope to work well with you as my assistant.” 

You move on instinct, but Inoichi is faster, grabs your hand before it can connect with Ibiki’s face. You’re not sure if you wanted to slap him or read his mind, but now you just look like a fool.

.

Ibiki is the right choice for the position, even if you don’t want to admit it out loud.

He works late when Inoichi can’t be bothered to, little Ino always a bit more important than work. His approach is so different from yours that it would be easy to push it aside but you can see that it works. It’s like two hands, entwined. It’s hard to tell where one starts and the other ends.

But he’s infuriating, impossible to crack.

More than once you’ve been called the most beautiful Kunoichi of your generation. You’ve learned to use your beauty in your work without anyone teaching you to the point that men spill their secrets at the sight of your lips or the flutter of your lashes. 

Not Ibiki.

When you have to leave Konoha for a mission and Genma and Ebisu are trying to subtly fight over who gets to share a tent with you, Ibiki tells them with a bored voice that they will share one tent, leaving you to take over the first watch.

Ibiki is a hard-ass, uncaring for anything that’s not his work.

That’s what you think until

-

You curse and grip your hand but there’s still blood dribbling down your arm.

“Let me see.” Ibiki is at your side in a heartbeat, pulling your hands apart to assess the damage.

“It won’t need stitches.” He exclaims. “But if you don’t want it to leave a scar you should use Chakra.”

“I know that.” You huff in indignation. “I’m trained in Medical Ninjutsu.”

“Then you’ll have no problem with helping yourself.” He points out and pulls you toward the sink only to step in the place you just vacated, inspecting your work. Even from this distance you can tell you haven’t done your best. You hate cutting onions. 

Ibiki doesn’t mention the uneven pieces and you turn back to the cut in your hand, calming yourself down enough to heal it up.

“Turn down the heat.” He points at the stove when you’re done. “And turn the fish.”

You stare at him in confusion. He takes a Spatula from a drawer and flips the filet in the pan without further comment. You feel like a little kid but not in a good way and you scramble to find something to hold on to.

“About next week’s interrogations.”

“I don’t think you should interrogate the Kiri-Nin.” His eyes are on a green vegetable you can’t name. He’s cutting it into thin stripes, his hand moving so swiftly it distracts you from his words for a moment.

You gape when you realize what he’s just said. 

“What? No! I was successful with his colleague when your method did not work. It’s my job!”

“Just because two Shinobi come from the same Village doesn’t mean they will both succumb to the same interrogation.” He points out.

You huff. “Let me try. If it won’t work, you’ll have free reign. But I’m sure it will work.”

“Oh? Did you have something planned?”

You straighten. “Of course. Most Kiri-Nin are used to harsher methods. It works well to establish a connection with them.”

He hums in thought. “How are you planning on doing that?”

You start to explain, quickly engaged in a conversation as he continues asking questions. It’s easy to forget that Ibiki is a hard-ass when he decides to act like a normal person.

“Please set the table.” He interrupts your explanation of a difficult Jutsu. “The plates are in this drawer.”

You straighten in surprise. You hadn’t noticed the time passing.

“Do you want some wine?” You ask when you set down the plates, your basket at the door attracting your attention like it’s True North and you’re an innocent compass drawn toward it.

“No alcohol in this house,” Ibiki announces from the kitchen.

“It’s just a little wine.” You huff.

“Nothing’s just a little wine with you.” His voice is calm but his words cut into you like knives made from ice. You freeze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, your voice dangerously low.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Morino. I don’t.”

He turns, dares to lean his back against the stove behind him.

“I got the report from your last physical.” He announces. “Inoichi doesn’t know yet, but-”

“What?” You hiss. “Were you planning on telling him? Hm? To get me kicked off the squad?”

“You’re going to get yourself kicked off if you keep drinking like that.”

“I don’t have a fucking problem!” You yell. Something crashes loudly and you realize belatedly that you threw a plate at his head, the porcelain shattering on contact but hitting only the kitchen cupboards.

Ibiki doesn’t speak. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Neko mewling loudly, clearly indignant about the noise in her home. You can barely breathe, the room suddenly too small for you. You move toward the door without another word, grab your basket on the way out, and leave your shoes in your haste to get away.

You don’t have a problem.

-

Your team lead is dead, Ibiki has been captured and Ebisu keeps bleeding from a nasty cut on his arm. He’s the least helpful in this situation, mumbling non-stop as he goes through all the books he’s read, trying to find a strategy that might work.

The worst thing about this? It’s your fault. 

Well, that’s not entirely correct. You didn’t kill your team lead and you were not the one who barely missed Ebisu’s heart and instead cut into his arm.

But you’d been one heartbeat too slow, stumbling to catch up in a fight that would have been difficult to win even in top condition. 

You remember fighting with Ibiki on your way here, calling him a stuck-up bitch to his face when he refused to listen to your plan on implementing a new Jutsu. 

You remember him moving you out of the way, scarred hands warm on your skin as he pushed you to the side just moments before he was pulled from your sight. 

If you’d been faster, better, less intent on fighting him instead of your actual opponent, he’d still be here.

Right now you’d take being captured over sitting here with Ebisu.

There’s nothing quite like figuring out you’re not as talented as everyone thinks you are. Nothing like realizing your own failings just in time to see someone looking up to you, believing that you’ll be exactly what they need.

Ebisu is looking at you like that. “You’re the team lead now.” He says and your stomach churns so violently you have to excuse yourself.

You wish for the warmth that settles in your stomach after the first sip of Sake or the fuzzy feeling of safety that comes after a glass of wine. Everything but what you have now.

.

You promise yourself a six-pack of beer if you manage to find out where they’re keeping Ibiki. Your body won’t mind the extra calories if Ebisu keeps eating your rations as well as his.

When that is done, you promise yourself that new dress you’d been eyeing. It’s a deep shade of brown that makes you look like a delicate flower and reminds you a little bit of Ibiki’s eyes when he’s laughing - not that you’d ever tell him that. It’s crazy expensive but you’ll look amazing in it. It might even get Ibiki to show a reaction if only to sigh and tell you not to waste your money on things like this.

All you have to do to earn this dress? Break Ibiki out.

When you find him, his head is a bloody mess but he’s glaring up at you as you untie him.

“Took you long enough.” He jokes but winces when you move him.

“Can you walk?” You ask and put a hand on his neck to stabilize him.

“Sure.” He says but doesn’t budge.

“I don’t know much Medical Ninjutsu.” You explain as you position yourself, pulling his head gently into your lap. A lock of silver hair clings to your fingers when you pull them away and you stare at it. Whatever it is that makes you slip the lock of hair into your pocket, it shall stay hidden.

“Ah, don’t worry if it leaves a scar.” He jokes. “It will fit my face.”

He must notice how your breathing picks up as you struggle to keep your Chakra flowing. You’ve never minded the sight or smell of blood until now. There’s just so much of it and all of it is Ibiki’s.

“How’s Ebisu?”

“He’s fine.” 

“And you?”

“Just a little hungry.” You lie, fighting against the urge to throw up.

“Ebisu ate your rations?”

You sigh. 

“Why did you push me out of the way?”

“My work doesn’t care if I get a new scar or two. Your work does.”

You laugh shakily.

“You’re just saying that. In reality, you thought I’d not make it through their interrogation.”

You don’t sound angry, don’t feel it even though you think you should. He’d not be wrong in thinking it either.

“You would have made it through the interrogation without a problem,” Ibiki states calmly. “But they might have thought you don’t know enough and killed you.”

Your hands still on his skin. You barely managed to stop the bleeding.

“Ibiki-” You start, unsure what you want to say when Ebisu bursts through the door.

“Guys, we have to go! Oh, am I interrupting something?”

“Yeah, me trying to heal him.” You snap back. “Help me here. He can’t walk on his own.”

.

It’s a miracle that Ibiki makes it back to Konoha alive. That he survives the multiple head wounds. He doesn’t seem ashamed of his scars but you are. It’s another sign of your failings.

Mature

Mentions: hate crime, assaults, murders, rebirth, retribution, eternal love. This not an original story, just a reimagining.

:|:

Many naively assume love is not in fact end all. It does not conquer, nor persevere, that love is not everlasting.

What if I professed, two souls were bound to the other for all eternity..unwilling to surrender nor compromise their adulation for the other in life nor in death. It shall endure.

:|:

Originating as friendship, first day of kindergarten, one from the wrong side of the trailer park while the other from the right side of money and bloodline. Forging a bond that made no sense to anyone but the two, unshakable-loyalty, fierce protector of the other. Two young boys that knew nothing of hate nor status.

A best friend bond that blossoms effortlessly..through the years into.. more.. To the other, they’re their first; kiss, touch, sexual encounter, love, everything. To be touched by this beauty of adulation, one can only ever wish for, they built-effortlessly.

As they grow up, settle into adulthood, their love only strengthens. Silencing the nay sayers and doubters. Even severing ties with family after their unwillingness to accept nor understand. He held his sweet boy while he wept of sorrow all night, eventually affirming-it was for the best. In the end, it was him and him and I.

:|:

Living a modest life, one an up and coming musician. Brilliant on the guitar, gifted with lyrical genius and a rebellious nature, while the other studying law, compassionate, fights for what’s right, not with his fist.

Unfortunately their love is never accepted, so they hide in public. One day they won’t have too, reminding the other. Times will change, thoughts will be more open, one day.

That day would never come to light; after a show, a producer pulls Eddie aside, speaks of a contract! Album deal! Money! Touring! Saw what Munson had to offer, this guy was destined to be a start! A once in a life time opportunity! In the heat of the moment and excitement Eddie displays affection to his beloved, only for the wrong-misguided eyes to seethe in disgust, lost in their blindness.