endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-11-28 08:23 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-11-28 08:23 pm
Displacement
Title: Displacement
Type: Drabble
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: 025. Scar/s [ Wordcount: 1142 ]
Character(s): Hatake Kakashi, OC: Sarutobi Mei, Shirou; brief mentions of Namikaze Minato, Nohara Rin, Tsunade, Shizune
Pairing(s): None.
Warning(s): Creative license of events and making use of unknown information in the Naruto timeline; OCs to fill in the gap that is Tenten's history
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Short drabble meant to be part of a series started when my internet was out. Ironic, huh~? ;D Theme borrowed from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ficlets100.
Dedicated to: Team Heaven; best family that never was~ ♥
Resetting a shoulder was never easy. It required swift and nimble fingers, and resulted in a lot of pain for the patient involved. Then again, she considered, nothing about being a shinobi was painless. Hearing the sharp pop of the bone sliding back into place or feeling the tenseness of his muscles a split second later was nothing compared to the agonies they had experienced out on the battlefield. But this was the life they had chosen of their own free will. For pride, honor, tradition, or a thousand other reasons, they had all made the decision to live in a perpetual state of suffering. And there was no turning back from it now that they had walked this far down the path.
"There," she said softly, "That should do it."
The young boy -- because to her, he would always be that little boy she had held when she was still a child herself -- said nothing in response. He merely gave a stiff nod as she began the process of creating a sling that would last him the next couple of days. All the while, the limp arm remained carefully cradled and protected against his chest, like how one would hold a baby. Nothing out of the ordinary, Mei supposed. After all, as many times as he came to her doorstep for a quick mend these past few weeks, he had been given plenty of practice and chances with Tenten around to keep him company. Whether he wanted it or not. And never once during their sessions did he ever cry out in pain. But then, if there was one thing Hatake Kakashi was good at, it was masking his pain.
"Alright," the kunoichi said with a warm smile, "I think you're good to go."
Glancing down at the cloth, he seemed to regard her handiwork a moment before settling on a quick assessment. And then turned to her to give the final verdict on the procedure itself. "...Thank you."
There was no tone or inflection to give any indication of the sentiment behind his words other than autonomous courtesy. But it was enough implication of gratitude to be considered praise, Mei supposed. Especially when it came from the mind and mouth of Konoha's youngest prodigy. In recent weeks, particularly, the boy-genius had been fairly hard pressed to be thankful for any show of kindness. But then, there was a reason for that.
There would always be a reason...
"Don't mention it. Just keep your training light for at least the next three days or you will have to go see a real medic. Whether you like it or not." And with that, Mei stood up from her stool, all the while being very careful not to bump into any sheets of metal or blocks of stone as she moved about the back room.
It still amazed and amused her, really, the lengths he would go to avoid stepping foot into a medical unit. There they were, surrounded by possibly the most dangerous tools of the trade, scrap metal, and discarded projects of every shape and size, ready and poised to cause undue harm at the slightest misstep. And yet, they were still preferable over the clean and pristine stark-white walls of the hospital ward. But then again, fears were clever in picking away all sense of reason and logic in a person, even one as intelligent and rational as him.
"Take care of yourself, Hatake," she called after him with a wave as he began his long trek across the village towards his home; a pointless request, she knew. But it was enough of an assurance just to tell him each and every time he would come to see her all the same.
"Another patch-up job?"
Still within the frame of the door, she turned towards the familiar voice of her husband with a gentle smile. And as the echo of his footsteps approached, Mei could not help but let her gaze wander back to the young boy's retreating back with a quiet sigh, feeling the usual conflictual thoughts that generally came with Kakashi's visits. "Yeah. A dislocated shoulder this time."
"Why does he always come here?" And it was with a welcomed touch from his hand that the kunoichi allowed herself to fall into the comfort of his arms while she considered the question.
She had always expected the inquiry to come, eventually. Sooner, actually. Even now, Mei couldn't help but wonder why it had taken him this long to finally ask it, patient and unassuming as he was. But in the end, she was glad for his restraint and consideration. His understanding that her relationship with Kakashi reached back many long years beyond the point of their own meeting. There was history there, and in such ways, there was loyalty that Shirou knew not to tread across.
Even so, as her husband and the father of her child, he had a right to know what was conspiring under his roof. He merely needed to ask.
"There are only a handful of people Kakashi trusts to tend to his injuries," she explained, finding an ease and contentment in how her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, "Minato and Rin are both dead, and when Tsunade left the village, she took Shizune with her, so..."
"That left only you."
The kunoichi gave a nod in response, marking it as a wordless yes. "Unless I manage to convince him to see a real medic, which I won't count on happening often. The kid hates hospitals."
A soft breeze fluttered over the edge of her ear as a soft chuckle flowed freely from his mouth. "Name one shinobi that doesn't."
He was right, of course, and Mei could only laugh at the notion as well in realizing that. To be useful and successful in missions -- in service of their village -- was the driving force that all shinobi shared. And to be retained in the hospital was a not-too-subtle strike of reality that they were not invincible. That they were not always perfect. And that was a frightening thought to come to grips with when combined with the knowledge that death was something they dealt with on a daily basis.
Though it was always a lingering thought in the back of their conscious mind, no one liked to be reminded that they were not immortal.
"Is he going to be alright?"
Looking out the door one last time, she found that his tiny silhouette had almost disappeared completely into the setting sun. And for a brief moment, there was a familiar ache in her heart at the thought of the young boy returning to an empty home and the broken shards of a happiness he once held. "Physically, yes. But that eye isn't going to be the only scar he'll carry for the rest of his life."
Type: Drabble
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: 025. Scar/s [ Wordcount: 1142 ]
Character(s): Hatake Kakashi, OC: Sarutobi Mei, Shirou; brief mentions of Namikaze Minato, Nohara Rin, Tsunade, Shizune
Pairing(s): None.
Warning(s): Creative license of events and making use of unknown information in the Naruto timeline; OCs to fill in the gap that is Tenten's history
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Short drabble meant to be part of a series started when my internet was out. Ironic, huh~? ;D Theme borrowed from
ficlets100. Dedicated to: Team Heaven; best family that never was~ ♥
Resetting a shoulder was never easy. It required swift and nimble fingers, and resulted in a lot of pain for the patient involved. Then again, she considered, nothing about being a shinobi was painless. Hearing the sharp pop of the bone sliding back into place or feeling the tenseness of his muscles a split second later was nothing compared to the agonies they had experienced out on the battlefield. But this was the life they had chosen of their own free will. For pride, honor, tradition, or a thousand other reasons, they had all made the decision to live in a perpetual state of suffering. And there was no turning back from it now that they had walked this far down the path.
"There," she said softly, "That should do it."
The young boy -- because to her, he would always be that little boy she had held when she was still a child herself -- said nothing in response. He merely gave a stiff nod as she began the process of creating a sling that would last him the next couple of days. All the while, the limp arm remained carefully cradled and protected against his chest, like how one would hold a baby. Nothing out of the ordinary, Mei supposed. After all, as many times as he came to her doorstep for a quick mend these past few weeks, he had been given plenty of practice and chances with Tenten around to keep him company. Whether he wanted it or not. And never once during their sessions did he ever cry out in pain. But then, if there was one thing Hatake Kakashi was good at, it was masking his pain.
"Alright," the kunoichi said with a warm smile, "I think you're good to go."
Glancing down at the cloth, he seemed to regard her handiwork a moment before settling on a quick assessment. And then turned to her to give the final verdict on the procedure itself. "...Thank you."
There was no tone or inflection to give any indication of the sentiment behind his words other than autonomous courtesy. But it was enough implication of gratitude to be considered praise, Mei supposed. Especially when it came from the mind and mouth of Konoha's youngest prodigy. In recent weeks, particularly, the boy-genius had been fairly hard pressed to be thankful for any show of kindness. But then, there was a reason for that.
There would always be a reason...
"Don't mention it. Just keep your training light for at least the next three days or you will have to go see a real medic. Whether you like it or not." And with that, Mei stood up from her stool, all the while being very careful not to bump into any sheets of metal or blocks of stone as she moved about the back room.
It still amazed and amused her, really, the lengths he would go to avoid stepping foot into a medical unit. There they were, surrounded by possibly the most dangerous tools of the trade, scrap metal, and discarded projects of every shape and size, ready and poised to cause undue harm at the slightest misstep. And yet, they were still preferable over the clean and pristine stark-white walls of the hospital ward. But then again, fears were clever in picking away all sense of reason and logic in a person, even one as intelligent and rational as him.
"Take care of yourself, Hatake," she called after him with a wave as he began his long trek across the village towards his home; a pointless request, she knew. But it was enough of an assurance just to tell him each and every time he would come to see her all the same.
"Another patch-up job?"
Still within the frame of the door, she turned towards the familiar voice of her husband with a gentle smile. And as the echo of his footsteps approached, Mei could not help but let her gaze wander back to the young boy's retreating back with a quiet sigh, feeling the usual conflictual thoughts that generally came with Kakashi's visits. "Yeah. A dislocated shoulder this time."
"Why does he always come here?" And it was with a welcomed touch from his hand that the kunoichi allowed herself to fall into the comfort of his arms while she considered the question.
She had always expected the inquiry to come, eventually. Sooner, actually. Even now, Mei couldn't help but wonder why it had taken him this long to finally ask it, patient and unassuming as he was. But in the end, she was glad for his restraint and consideration. His understanding that her relationship with Kakashi reached back many long years beyond the point of their own meeting. There was history there, and in such ways, there was loyalty that Shirou knew not to tread across.
Even so, as her husband and the father of her child, he had a right to know what was conspiring under his roof. He merely needed to ask.
"There are only a handful of people Kakashi trusts to tend to his injuries," she explained, finding an ease and contentment in how her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, "Minato and Rin are both dead, and when Tsunade left the village, she took Shizune with her, so..."
"That left only you."
The kunoichi gave a nod in response, marking it as a wordless yes. "Unless I manage to convince him to see a real medic, which I won't count on happening often. The kid hates hospitals."
A soft breeze fluttered over the edge of her ear as a soft chuckle flowed freely from his mouth. "Name one shinobi that doesn't."
He was right, of course, and Mei could only laugh at the notion as well in realizing that. To be useful and successful in missions -- in service of their village -- was the driving force that all shinobi shared. And to be retained in the hospital was a not-too-subtle strike of reality that they were not invincible. That they were not always perfect. And that was a frightening thought to come to grips with when combined with the knowledge that death was something they dealt with on a daily basis.
Though it was always a lingering thought in the back of their conscious mind, no one liked to be reminded that they were not immortal.
"Is he going to be alright?"
Looking out the door one last time, she found that his tiny silhouette had almost disappeared completely into the setting sun. And for a brief moment, there was a familiar ache in her heart at the thought of the young boy returning to an empty home and the broken shards of a happiness he once held. "Physically, yes. But that eye isn't going to be the only scar he'll carry for the rest of his life."