Drabbles.
They're a bit late, 'cause I'm a bit lazy. >.>
Naruto
For moroi_shokubai, Imperfect
Ino married Chouji when they were twenty-seven. Shikamaru was a few hours late to the reception, and he left a few hours early, too. He was sure that, customarily speaking, he should've been there a little longer. He should've been standing next to Chouji and Ino, saying something sarcastic and sharp that would've meant something to his teammates.
Really, though, he didn't want to. He dropped off his well-wishes and kisses to Ino's cheek, then took himself to the rooftops on the edge of the village. The ledge of the roof was wide enough for him to lie on, and when he let his head roll to the side, he could see the lights of the cemetery.
"Asuma would've been happy," Kakashi said, leaning against the ledge next to Shikamaru's head. Shikamaru blinked slowly, wondered why the world looked so gray, and let out a sigh.
"Asuma would've thought it was troublesome. He would've gotten drunk, too." Shikamaru covered his eyes with his hand, wondered why his body felt like it was shaking. "Asuma would've left early."
"Is that why you left?" Kakashi asked, his voice a little closer.
"Is that why you left?" Shikamaru echoed back, tightening his fingers against his salt-wet face. "You're not Asuma-sensei."
"I know," Kakashi murmured, and his breath was light on Shikamaru's mouth. His lips weren't light, though, and neither were his fingernails, or his fingers, or his body.
"I know," Shikamaru echoed, not quite able to hate himself as he kissed Kakashi back. After all, not everything could be perfect.
For lunariol, Savior
The first thing Iruka learns about Namiashi Raidou is that Raidou's heavy. Raidou's body weighs down Iruka's twelve-year-old self, holding Iruka to the ground as Konoha burns. Raidou's hand is nearly as big as Iruka's father's was, and Iruka bites it angrily, screaming as Raidou curses and yanks his hand away.
"Let me go," Iruka screams, and his throat feels raw, like his voice will never come out as more than a whisper. He makes himself scream louder. "My parents- Let me go, they're still out there!"
Raidou's face is gruesome in the light of the fires, warped skin still red and raw. "Shut it," he murmurs, voice at odds with the words. "You wanna get the kyuubi over here, too?"
Iruka bites him again, this time on Raidou's wrist, and Raidou backhands him with a sharp word. When Iruka wakes up, he's with all the other Academy students, deep inside the mountain, where he can only imagine the color of fire. Raidou might be a savior, but Iruka doesn't feel very thankful.
The last thing Iruka learns about Namiashi Raidou is that Raidou's still heavy, all these years later. Raidou's body weighs down Iruka's thirty-two-year-old self, and Iruka lets himself sink to the ground, limbs heavy with Raidou's body. Raidou's skin is burning to the touch, hot as the ground is cold.
"Hold on," Iruka murmurs, throat tight and painful. He feels like he can't get enough air in, so he gulps cold air, feeling the moisture in his mouth dry in his throat. "Ibiki's not far, he'll be back."
There's a sound, or at least, Iruka thinks there's a sound. He pulls at the fabric wrapped around Raidou's face and lies his face next to Raidou's, ear by Raidou's mouth.
"Cold," Raidou's lips mouth, and they split, but there's not much blood. Iruka pulls the cloth back up, covering Raidou's mouth and nose, and he notices that his fingers are blue and shaking. He slaps his hands against his legs until he can feel the sting, then wraps his arms around Raidou, holding Raidou's body a little closer.
By the time Ibiki gets back, Raidou's not shivering anymore. After all, Iruka's never been a very good savior.
Death Note
For 1anonymous1, Not Quite Heaven
"So this is it, then?"
L looks taller than Raito remembers. Maybe it's because L doesn't have all the weight on his shoulders anymore; Raito wonders if he's right, then wonders why he cares.
"This is heaven?"
It's the little things that Raito notices first, and he wonders if it's because it's been so long since he's seen L. He notices that the shadows under L's eyes are a little lighter, and that L's shoulders are a little straighter. L's mouth opens, and Raito wonders if his voice will sound any different.
"I trusted you."
It doesn't. The voice sounds the same, like it had for all those months, bantering and arguing and trying to figure the solution to a problem Raito had held right in his hands, scrawled on paper cupped in his palms.
"You didn't trust me," Raito says, closing his eyes for a moment. He feels inexplicably tired, like he has since he found a notebook lying in the street. He wonders if he looks as tired as he feels, like an antithesis of L. "You thought I wasn't a threat. You miscalculated."
"I," L repeats, and his teeth are closed around his thumb, tearing off his thumbnail, "trusted you."
Raito looks away, letting his eyes close for a moment. His body feels heavier, like weights are on the tips of his fingers, in his joints and in his bones. He sinks down into a crouch, letting out a sigh, and lets his fingertips graze across the empty light. "So this," he asks again, "is heaven?"
He opens his eyes at the breath of air on his face, hot and moist, and stares at L's mouth. L spits out a thumbnail, ragged and bloody, and smiles, red staining the edges of his teeth.
"This," L says very slowly, his thumb dripping blood on Raito's hands, "is hell."
Naruto
For moroi_shokubai, Imperfect
Ino married Chouji when they were twenty-seven. Shikamaru was a few hours late to the reception, and he left a few hours early, too. He was sure that, customarily speaking, he should've been there a little longer. He should've been standing next to Chouji and Ino, saying something sarcastic and sharp that would've meant something to his teammates.
Really, though, he didn't want to. He dropped off his well-wishes and kisses to Ino's cheek, then took himself to the rooftops on the edge of the village. The ledge of the roof was wide enough for him to lie on, and when he let his head roll to the side, he could see the lights of the cemetery.
"Asuma would've been happy," Kakashi said, leaning against the ledge next to Shikamaru's head. Shikamaru blinked slowly, wondered why the world looked so gray, and let out a sigh.
"Asuma would've thought it was troublesome. He would've gotten drunk, too." Shikamaru covered his eyes with his hand, wondered why his body felt like it was shaking. "Asuma would've left early."
"Is that why you left?" Kakashi asked, his voice a little closer.
"Is that why you left?" Shikamaru echoed back, tightening his fingers against his salt-wet face. "You're not Asuma-sensei."
"I know," Kakashi murmured, and his breath was light on Shikamaru's mouth. His lips weren't light, though, and neither were his fingernails, or his fingers, or his body.
"I know," Shikamaru echoed, not quite able to hate himself as he kissed Kakashi back. After all, not everything could be perfect.
For lunariol, Savior
The first thing Iruka learns about Namiashi Raidou is that Raidou's heavy. Raidou's body weighs down Iruka's twelve-year-old self, holding Iruka to the ground as Konoha burns. Raidou's hand is nearly as big as Iruka's father's was, and Iruka bites it angrily, screaming as Raidou curses and yanks his hand away.
"Let me go," Iruka screams, and his throat feels raw, like his voice will never come out as more than a whisper. He makes himself scream louder. "My parents- Let me go, they're still out there!"
Raidou's face is gruesome in the light of the fires, warped skin still red and raw. "Shut it," he murmurs, voice at odds with the words. "You wanna get the kyuubi over here, too?"
Iruka bites him again, this time on Raidou's wrist, and Raidou backhands him with a sharp word. When Iruka wakes up, he's with all the other Academy students, deep inside the mountain, where he can only imagine the color of fire. Raidou might be a savior, but Iruka doesn't feel very thankful.
The last thing Iruka learns about Namiashi Raidou is that Raidou's still heavy, all these years later. Raidou's body weighs down Iruka's thirty-two-year-old self, and Iruka lets himself sink to the ground, limbs heavy with Raidou's body. Raidou's skin is burning to the touch, hot as the ground is cold.
"Hold on," Iruka murmurs, throat tight and painful. He feels like he can't get enough air in, so he gulps cold air, feeling the moisture in his mouth dry in his throat. "Ibiki's not far, he'll be back."
There's a sound, or at least, Iruka thinks there's a sound. He pulls at the fabric wrapped around Raidou's face and lies his face next to Raidou's, ear by Raidou's mouth.
"Cold," Raidou's lips mouth, and they split, but there's not much blood. Iruka pulls the cloth back up, covering Raidou's mouth and nose, and he notices that his fingers are blue and shaking. He slaps his hands against his legs until he can feel the sting, then wraps his arms around Raidou, holding Raidou's body a little closer.
By the time Ibiki gets back, Raidou's not shivering anymore. After all, Iruka's never been a very good savior.
Death Note
For 1anonymous1, Not Quite Heaven
"So this is it, then?"
L looks taller than Raito remembers. Maybe it's because L doesn't have all the weight on his shoulders anymore; Raito wonders if he's right, then wonders why he cares.
"This is heaven?"
It's the little things that Raito notices first, and he wonders if it's because it's been so long since he's seen L. He notices that the shadows under L's eyes are a little lighter, and that L's shoulders are a little straighter. L's mouth opens, and Raito wonders if his voice will sound any different.
"I trusted you."
It doesn't. The voice sounds the same, like it had for all those months, bantering and arguing and trying to figure the solution to a problem Raito had held right in his hands, scrawled on paper cupped in his palms.
"You didn't trust me," Raito says, closing his eyes for a moment. He feels inexplicably tired, like he has since he found a notebook lying in the street. He wonders if he looks as tired as he feels, like an antithesis of L. "You thought I wasn't a threat. You miscalculated."
"I," L repeats, and his teeth are closed around his thumb, tearing off his thumbnail, "trusted you."
Raito looks away, letting his eyes close for a moment. His body feels heavier, like weights are on the tips of his fingers, in his joints and in his bones. He sinks down into a crouch, letting out a sigh, and lets his fingertips graze across the empty light. "So this," he asks again, "is heaven?"
He opens his eyes at the breath of air on his face, hot and moist, and stares at L's mouth. L spits out a thumbnail, ragged and bloody, and smiles, red staining the edges of his teeth.
"This," L says very slowly, his thumb dripping blood on Raito's hands, "is hell."