Interest Drabble - Hanabi
Long enough to deserve a title I suppose: Childish
Anyway. Nudity, curse seals, cruelty to Hinata, one bitter little girl grown up into a woman who shouldn't be. The usual Hanabi warnings.
Hanabi watched herself in the mirror. She blinked over and over. Maybe the next time she open-shut her eyes she would look adult. But no, there she was still, naked and bare and just as girlish. Her collarbones and hipbones stuck out at funny angles. Her breasts were failing valiantly at doing breast-type things like curving and swelling and heaving.
She ought to look more adult than this. She felt ancient. Maybe if she tried a different facial expression -
There was a polite knock at her door. Most likely, the knocker had already seen her naked and mirror-gazing, she thought with disgust. Most definitely, if it was her second cousin Hiro. Once she was head, she would activate his curse seal…and oh, oh she would let it burn until he died.
She tilted her head in consideration. The mirror showed her, face scrunched up in a scowl and fists tight and ready.
- And no, she looked a child in the middle of a temper tantrum. So she smoothed her face over and offered herself a polite smile, the sort that only occupied the corners of the mouth.
“One moment,” she called, just as politely. She paused to peek through the sliding door. Oh, Hinata, she thought. Of course. Who else would be so quiet and pitiful about a little thing like announcing themselves?
Of course, it was longer than a moment before her kimono was wrapped around her body, but it was no longer than was necessary, though she’d much rather not deal with Hinata. That was not childish at all, Hanabi thought proudly.
She let Hinata in to help her tie her obi. Hinata’s hands moved, white and, here and now - with cloth that did not matter the way chakra and blades did - flawless. Hanabi swallowed. Her own hand faltered midway to Hinata’s forehead. (That, though, that was childish) So she steeled herself angrily and brushed Hinata’s bangs aside.
Hinata cringed and dropped the second belt. “Oh,” she said. “I apologize, you startled me.” Then she just stood there and let Hanabi stare at the fresh brand. It was still angry and red. Hanabi couldn’t look away. She couldn’t forgive Hinata either, for letting her look like that. It was what Hinata should have done, as a member of the branch house. But - but, Hinata was not such a threat, Hanabi thought with discomfort. She should not have insisted that she be branded. That was a foolish thing to do, the act of a scared little girl.
(Maybe, maybe, that is what she is.)
Anyway. Nudity, curse seals, cruelty to Hinata, one bitter little girl grown up into a woman who shouldn't be. The usual Hanabi warnings.
Hanabi watched herself in the mirror. She blinked over and over. Maybe the next time she open-shut her eyes she would look adult. But no, there she was still, naked and bare and just as girlish. Her collarbones and hipbones stuck out at funny angles. Her breasts were failing valiantly at doing breast-type things like curving and swelling and heaving.
She ought to look more adult than this. She felt ancient. Maybe if she tried a different facial expression -
There was a polite knock at her door. Most likely, the knocker had already seen her naked and mirror-gazing, she thought with disgust. Most definitely, if it was her second cousin Hiro. Once she was head, she would activate his curse seal…and oh, oh she would let it burn until he died.
She tilted her head in consideration. The mirror showed her, face scrunched up in a scowl and fists tight and ready.
- And no, she looked a child in the middle of a temper tantrum. So she smoothed her face over and offered herself a polite smile, the sort that only occupied the corners of the mouth.
“One moment,” she called, just as politely. She paused to peek through the sliding door. Oh, Hinata, she thought. Of course. Who else would be so quiet and pitiful about a little thing like announcing themselves?
Of course, it was longer than a moment before her kimono was wrapped around her body, but it was no longer than was necessary, though she’d much rather not deal with Hinata. That was not childish at all, Hanabi thought proudly.
She let Hinata in to help her tie her obi. Hinata’s hands moved, white and, here and now - with cloth that did not matter the way chakra and blades did - flawless. Hanabi swallowed. Her own hand faltered midway to Hinata’s forehead. (That, though, that was childish) So she steeled herself angrily and brushed Hinata’s bangs aside.
Hinata cringed and dropped the second belt. “Oh,” she said. “I apologize, you startled me.” Then she just stood there and let Hanabi stare at the fresh brand. It was still angry and red. Hanabi couldn’t look away. She couldn’t forgive Hinata either, for letting her look like that. It was what Hinata should have done, as a member of the branch house. But - but, Hinata was not such a threat, Hanabi thought with discomfort. She should not have insisted that she be branded. That was a foolish thing to do, the act of a scared little girl.
(Maybe, maybe, that is what she is.)