sunshineverse | closed

Entry tags:

closed

Who: Ashiko and Itachi
Where: An inconspicuous little village in the Land of Rice
When: April 15
Notes: A friendly encounter. Sort of. Mostly, he's just happy she's alive.

'Perhaps you should take it easy, Ashiko-sama,' a few of the lower-ranked servants had suggested, meek and worried. 'It was such a stressful situation. You deserve a rest.'

Honestly. It was as though they didn't know her at all.

Ashiko could never be happy cooling her heels, even if the alternative was being away from her master's side. Since the caravan debacle he had elected to keep a low profile, which meant that Ashiko's little errands resumed, with more frequency than ever before. Otogakure had no shortage of skilled medical ninja, not the least of which was her esteemed Danna-sama, so it wasn't as though she was even on the mend; she had been patched up as good as new by the day after their return, and had only her own bruised pride to pain her.

She didn't care that Orochimaru had stabbed a person through her, really; she was upset that she had hindered her master to the point that he had even had to do such a thing in the first place. It was a similar sentiment that had kept her from using her scroll to make contact with any Konoha shinobi. How exactly did one broach such a strained social situation? 'My master and I are in good health, I hope that none of you were fatally poisoned after we defended ourselves from your highly unwarranted attack,' seemed ill-put.

But even Ashiko could nurse a grudge, if one on behalf of her master.

The woman sighed softly and ducked into the inn and tavern that would be her lodgings for the night, sliding into the last available booth and leaning back against the old, lacquered wood tiredly. She was in the pink of health, but the weather and the long hours she had chosen to undertake had worn her out for the day.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Fate rarely asks who we want to be bond too. The lucky or brave are able to choose who they will be bound to, but most of us make do, or must make do, with what we're given." Like being born into a clan. A village. Itachi watched Ashiko trace a pattern on her sleeve.

"We are very different, then," Itachi began, then realized that might be too true a thought to share. "But, I travel by my own choice, and you do not, so maybe that's why it's different." Truly, lately Itachi had begun thinking he was more at home away from home. He became so used to playing roles that it was almost easier to be who the people back home wanted him to be--perfect son, heir, brother, friend...whatever the role he played in their lives. There were many secrets he couldn't tell people. From everyone he kept something secret and hidden. Maybe Uchiha Itachi was no more a real and honest person than Iori, but another elaborate lie.

Itachi's lips twisted into a grim smile at the thought. A shadow in the shadows, unknowable. That was what he was becoming.

"You travel to places you choose," Ashiko corrected him, her tone almost lazy in the wake of a belly full of sake. "That's the main difference. Maybe. Nobody kicks me out the door, you see, but I have what comes after mapped out for me. At least partly. The endpoints, always. Things can get a little troublesome between where I start and where I end. It's fun, sometimes, and I meet new people, but it's like floating away from..." She trailed off, brow wrinkling. "I...don't really know where I was going with that. I don't get water metaphors much."

She glanced up cup lifted halfway to her mouth, and paused when she saw that almost bitter curl of his mouth. She set the cup down as gently as possible, then leaned up bodily over the table to flick him gently on the forehead with her index finger. "Evil spirits be gone," she murmured, frowning slightly, but smiled in a surprisingly mischievous sort of way as she dropped back down into her seat. "You looked plagued. Or...possessed." Ashiko explained, sipping her final cup as though she had never been interrupted in the first place. "One of those two, at least. It was really very unfortunate."

As Ashiko moved, Itachi leaned back, tensed and ready for something. He wasn't ready to be flicked on the forehead. He blinked stupidly and rubbed the skin she'd touched, expecting to feel some kind of heat or cold. It was jarring to have her do that, as it was similar to the motion he used with Sasuke all the time. Itachi's mouth felt a little dry.

"I...I was thinking," Itachi paused and then blundered on. "That I am not sure I like the person I am becoming," Itachi admitted. He smothered a yawn.

"The obvious solution is we'll run away together, which removed the issue of a sake sodden and possibly tearful parting, and then we'll both be free to be whatever and go wherever we wants," Itachi explained rather simply. "And I think I am drunk." Oddly this made him want to curl up somewhere warm and sleep.

Ashiko laughed, only just barely managing not to choke on the mouthful of sake she had begun to swallow. She had done that on a whim, but it seemed to be fairly effective. She'd have to keep that in mind, for future situations.

"I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes," she said, once everything was down safely. Of course, she wasn't among that number, but even in Otogakure shinobi were occasionally struck by the odd bout of self-loathing. "The thing about people is that they always have the capacity to change, so you don't have to be that person if you don't want to be. I'm pretty sure I've said something along those lines before."

She listened to his offer and tipped back her cup, finishing her drink. "I don't know about drunk since you can still say things like 'sake sodden' but you're definitely tipsy if you're thinking about running away with me." Even if it was a joke, Ashiko found herself feeling a little flattered by the sentiment. "You have a nice monastery waiting on you by the shore and Danna-sama would worry if I took off into the sunset with some man he's never even met."

"But to change into something better, one must first decide what is better," Itachi pointed out. He could say that instead of saying changing himself would man changing everyone perspective of him. Maybe he didn't like what he was becoming, but he was useful. He was the genuis Uchiha heir, and the undercover ANBU. He filled vital roles in his village with his juggling act of truth and lies and bowing his head to other's orders. He enjoyed being away from home, because he could pretend he was free. As a child it had always been enough to strive for a better test score, prefect a jutsu, earn his father or Shisui's praise. It had been enough to know he was serving Konoha in the shadows, silent but deadly and effective in whatever task his village needed from him. And now...

Now he didn't know what to think. He was drunk. He must be, and that was why he was thinking these things.

"We will write your Danna-sama a nice long letter, and if he wants you to return, then we'll go back and I'll found a monastery in his backyard. I'll go with you on your errands too, so we'll have the best of all worlds--a home to return to, I'll get to travel still, and you'll have a traveling companion," Itachi fabricated the impossible future with a mad glint in his eye, where he'd been frowning before. Mercurial mood swings for the drunken Iori? Why not.

"If I'm not really drunk, I don't think I ever want to be really drunk." His thoughts kept getting away from him.

"Sometimes, I think it's enough to aim for 'what feels better,'" Ashiko said. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when he dogged after that 'run away together idea' fleshing it out and making it sound only half as crazy as it had originally. Despite herself—or perhaps, because of the sake settling warmly in her gut—she let herself think about it. A nice life on the road, with a nice companion. Maybe a tranquil little house that they would keep straying back to, which would eventually become a home filled with little children. Or Iori in Otogakure, spending his days in the library with her master. Pretty little children with pale skin, black hair, and dark eyes.

She paused, startled, because that last image was more attractive than she had thought it might be. But it was enough to remind her of her duty, and the real situation. Ashiko was a Kuzuryu, and knew her place and duty. Ishida Iori was a living, breathing lie.

One who had, apparently, kick started Ashiko's desire to have a family again, but a lie nonetheless.

"...maybe you are drunk," she agreed after a too long, too thoughtful pause. "I think, perhaps, we should find a way to cool our heads." And inch back towards sobriety.

"I actually hope I am, if that's strange." He was sure someone had once told him a few tricks to sobering up quickly, but he couldn't remember them. He probably hadn't paid a lot of attention, assuming he would never get drunk enough to need it. Itachi tried to sit up straighter. Ashiko obviously thought he was an idiot for babbling on about the running away together thing. She'd probably be less shocked if he said he was trying to decide whether or not to kill her.

"And what makes people sober up? I'm as naive in this matter as I was about travel when you first met me." Itachi blinked. His head still felt very heavy.

"Drinking coffee and water and taking cold showers," Ashiko said reflexively. Technically, the only way to really sober up was to stop drinking—which they had—or vomiting up what they had downed, but those measures would take care of the dehydration and lethargy for the most part. And she didn't think he was an idiot, really; she thought Iori was sweet, but couldn't fathom what angle the shinobi behind the mask of Iori was playing at.

"Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have pushed you to drink with me..."

"Oh, no, I assure you this has been an enlightening experience and one I could not have had in better company, Ashiko-san, but I am sorry that your last memory of me will be when I was drunk." If he could get her alone, then he could kill her. He had to kill her, right? Otherwise it was to the interrogation chambers for Ashiko, and it would take a while to break her. She was too loyal. Had she been trained to with stand torture?

"There was a rain bucket outside. I suppose I could go stick my head in it..." Itachi suggested, trying to slur his words a little.

"...you did promise me swimming lessons," Ashiko remembered, because she was just drunk enough to find it an appealing idea. "And all the geese are probably asleep by now." At night, the water would be chilly enough to count as a cold bath, wouldn't it? So really, they would be hitting two birds with one stone, and it would leave them coherent enough for proper, final farewells. She warmed to the idea more and more as she turned it over in her mind.

And she had not been trained for torture, because she was a Kuzuryu. She had been taught dozens of ways to kill herself in order to protect her master before the age of ten. It had never been an issue she had overly considered, to tell the truth.

"As long as it's not too deep, we shouldn't drown." Itachi got clumsily to his feet. They'd better do this now before she changed her mind. Drowning a tipsy civilian girl would be easy, right? Itachi had never drowned someone before, but the principle was simple enough. You held someone underwater until they stopped fighting. Easy, right? Even civilian drowned each other, so he shouldn't have a problem.

"When you are drunk, do your thoughts go in obsessive circles?" Itachi asked as he stood unsteadily on his feet.

"My natural state of thought is obsessively circular," Ashiko carefully stood up, then blinked and blushed when she realized what she had just said. Usually, it made people uncomfortable to hear that she was aware that her fixation was considered unhealthy by most standards and maintained it anyways. She sidestepped the issue by making her way to the door as quickly and steadily as she could managed, slipping out into the cool evening air.

There was a suitable pond not terribly far away, a decoration for some establishment near the inn that had since been abandoned and left to itself. She trusted that her friend would follow, and moved forward.

Itachi followed Ashiko quickly. "Oddly, that doesn't surprise me." There wasn't enough sarcasm in the words to make then an un-Iori like comment, was there? Itachi followed Ashiko down to the water. The pond probably wouldn't be that deep, but standing water tended to be...dirty. Itachi looked at the pond and wondered if he really wanted to get in the water. He'd have to put his hair up.

Itachi glanced at Ashiko. "Oh...well...you'll drown if we try in that."

"Oh, hush," Ashiko grumbled good naturedly, before beginning to untie her obi without so much as a by-your-leave. She folded the richly embroidered belt neatly on a nearby stone bench and shrugged out of the layers of her normal wardrobe, treating each with gentle care until she was left in a simple set of pale purple, lace-overlayed undergarments. Her entire wardrobe followed strict, elegant standards, and she finished by plucking loose a gilded hair comb, laid gently ontop of her clothes.

She turned to him, arms akimbo and bereft of the shame she might have shown years before. "Well? Better?" They might be a little dirty, but perhaps they could steal a few rain buckets to rinse off, afterwards.

Itachi blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and felt his cheeks go red. Before he'd thought to turn around, Ashiko had removed all her clothes. Well, not all of them. Not the purple lacy layer. Itachi almost covered his eyes, thought it would be too childish, and then realized that would be an appropriate reaction for Iori.

"Uhm." Itachi blinked and nodded jerkly. She wouldn't drown in that. "That works."

Not drunk enough to stop being Iori, or not experienced enough with women to not react, the tiny, analytical section of Ashiko's brain that remained alert, noted. It was better than a leering, drooling pervert, either way, so she was kind enough not to comment on it. She did, however, give him a pointed once over.

"What about you? Will you be able to swim like that?" Wet clothes only added more weight, if she remembered correctly.

Iatchi looked down at his clothes. They weren't as formal as Ashiko's, but they were just as old fashioned. "Well, I could. My cousin made sure I could swim fully clothed..." Itachi realized Iori wouldn't have any cousins, but managed to go on smoothly and hope Ashiko didn't mark the slip too heavily. He slowly shrugged out of his clothes.

It wasn't modesty that made him hesitate. Most of Itachi's injuries had been healed by Konoha's medics and had left little or no scarring, but he had a few that had happened too far from Konoha to get expert healing, or, more recently, minor things that had got infected while he was out on assignment and had thus scarred. Some were obviously battle wounds, though none were very large.

Itachi took a little less care for his clothes, but he did fold them up before setting them on the dew damp ground. Last of all Itachi carefully coiled up his braided hair and grabbed a few pins from his pack to secure it. His skin would wash off easily, and he had extra clothes, but he wasn't dipping his hair in that water if he could help it.

Edited 2014-04-29 14:12 (UTC)

Ashiko passed no comment over the mention of a cousin or the reveal of the scars. There wasn't any point to it, in her opinion; she knew he was more than a simple scribe and had for years, and as of tonight he knew she knew that. Why waste her breath needling him over a subject that had necessitated their final farewells to one another?

Her body, in contrast to his, was meticulously, miraculously pristine. Not only was her chest bereft of any scar from when her master skwered her; no, she didn't even have faded, minor marks from cuts or scratched scabs. She was an extension of her masters vanity, after all, and had been meticulously repaired after every bout of bodily harm that befell her, like the world's most important doll. But that wasn't what they were here for.

"So...where do we start?"

"We," Itachi said with a little bit of sarcasm. "Get in the water." he took the first step into the cold water, hissing a little as he waded out knee deep and then turned around to look at Ashiko.

Now he noticed her lack of scarring. It didn't mean, unfortunately, that her master really cared for her. It only meant he wanted her in pristine condition, but he hadn't discarded her when she was injured.

"I don't think I believe you," Ashiko said, with mock suspicion as she flinchingly entered the water as well. She made no sound or other real reaction, however, too used to maintaining her composure to forgo it for something as simple as a sudden chill.

She followed him until she was thigh deep, careful to keep as steady a footing as she could manage. Slipping and tripping in a pool in the dark was probably the exact opposite of a successful swimming lesson, after all.

Itachi started to reach out to steady Ashiko, but decided against it as he slowly lowered his hands and took a few steps deeper into the water. "First we're going to teach you how to float. It's the easiest thing, and it ought to be fairly easy for you." Women, generally, had a higher percentage of fat on their bodies, and Ashiko wasn't ninja fit, so she should have an easier time learning to float than a skinny little ninja boy.

"Right, and...does it matter if I'm on my back or stomach?" She was just drunk enough to need to stifle an immature little giggle at her own question, before shaking it off and attempting to take this seriously once more. He was doing her a favor, after all, and she should be respectful of that.

And he was very, very lucky that he hadn't commented on her fat percentage or fitness, clinical statistics or not. she was a lady, after all.

"That depends on if you'd like to breathe, Ashiko-san," Itachi replied dryly, more Uchiha than Iori. It hardly seemed to matter. They were drunk and continuing with this farce seemed ridiculous on some levels.

"I'll keep your head from going under," Itachi added. "So you won't drown." Not unless he could work up the nerve to hold her head under water.

"Okay."

And that was that. It was a simple, sincere declaration of trust that she herself didn't think twice about, murky origins and possibly loyalties aside. She turned her back on him—again, without a hint of apprehension—and leaned back until her back was fully submerged.

Her breath quickened reflexively, unused to being in the water without both feet firmly rooted to the ground.

"Relax." The gentle murmur came out automatically as he moved his hands through the water, sinking down into it until his shoulders were barely above the murky surface. Goosebumps crawled up his flesh and Itachi gently set his fingers under Ashiko's warm shoulders to balance her feather weight in the water. Her head rested easily between his arms.

"You're buoyant. You'll float," Itachi assured her.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject