logs | d | a december catchall (open & closed)

（ the first statement, while kind and certainly true, only gets a tired huff of breath.

the second — ）

I've worked hard to be what I want to be, where I am. （ no special kekkei genkai, no talented clans. her skill has come from practice, not prodigy. ） So, thank you. For recognizing that.

Mm.

[He’s too horrifically enhanced by nature to speak about improving through hard work, but he has seen a lot of it in the humans he’s met.]

Did you want to show me anything else?

[Instead of… asking her whether or not she wanted to now add him of all people to the mix of herself. She’ll get mad…]

No, that's pretty much it. I'm afraid I'm not terribly exciting.

（ well, a lifetime of comparing herself to naruto and sasuke will do that to a girl. ）

But, do you still want to...?

[He looks at her pointedly without looking at her pointedly. She is really going to chastise him for how he is about himself, then turn around and say this about herself? And ask him this?

In front of his salad?]

Yes.

[He isn’t sure if she realizes he would have not wasted his time coming if it wasn’t going to be a yes.]

Are you ready?

（ bitch she'll also do it in front of your steak, white-woman-laughs-with-salad your way out of that. ）

Yeah. We can go back to yours if you'd prefer, or... I guess it's just as easy here, right?

There’s no need. This is fine.

[She did this and will endure having him touch her inside soul things.

His eyes shift to each of the tethers. It probably doesn’t matter at all what’s touched, the end result is the same. And yet, he hesitates in consideration anyway. Will she judge what he goes for? Does he have to pick something with arbitrary meaning?

Is this how Set felt trying to decide what to touch behind his door?

The flowers are sweet, but he isn’t a fan of the garlic bloom. And he finds himself too much of a horror to taint them by his touch. The representation of her village feels… too distant, more personal to her alone. The image of Kakashi has the same air.

Reaching out, he twines his long fingers gently around the sculpture of the slug to scoop it up. It’s like a part of her he respected and admired: her willingness to become stronger, to heal and especially to heal children. He cradles it politely in his palm.

It’s the same motion as what he experienced before, but the feeling is different here. What washes over him is strong and feminine. The little piece he can sense of himself fits into a notch of her, and he can hear the toil of the Shadow in him, slowly, become less and less.

He shares the brunt of himself for a moment before it levels out. She is thwarted suddenly with that same weight of him except stronger. There is something wicked in him he can’t help, a part of him he has somehow managed to lock below the surface. It’s a miracle he can subdue the monstrous side of him; the voice of it is so loud at the core. A dark, extremely sensual, and powerful energy. It heats her up at the thighs and rolls up body to her neck, makes her feel how beautiful and seductive she is, makes her crave a warm red thirst she’s never had. She’s aware of how much power she has in her draw alone.

Above the primordial and carnal aura, the whole of him is old and tired. Ten millennia settles in the middle of her, quiet and lonely and sad. She has walked a thousand lifetimes, seen lands changed, left behind countless people only to return to meet their great, great grandchildren on their death beds. The subtle desire for death has now been satiated minutely by being here. He’s finally died after so long of living.

And at the end is a piece of him which knows he isn’t finished, however. A sweep of humanity passes through her. A compassionate soul feeling many ordinary things: hope, and sorrow, and anger, and happiness, and loyalty, and fear too.

It finally all goes silent like subsiding ripples on water, and a solid piece of him is left settled firmly in her somewhere.

A familiar, craggled voice hesitantly says, So, uh… did it work? and it resonates inside her head.]

（ she didn't quite know what to expect. had just sort of stood nervously by as his attention shifted between her tethers, settling on the slug. when he touches it, she's braced for... something.

(so little in her world is ever won without violence.)

instead, it's almost a genjutsu. the scorch of sensations that have no originator but him, that sensual heat, the weight of that age. that's the thing that almost drops her to her knees — the inexorable onward crawl of time, the way it settles over her like a flood. the human mind, ultimately, is only as strong as the will that captains it — if she'd tried this any younger she thinks it would have swallowed her whole.

her knees do wobble, just a little.

what he leaves behind in her ought to feel like a splinter. something foreign, overgrown, cocooned in protective tissue. instead, it simply feels as if she's pulled back the curtains on something that was already there. it's terrifying, exhilarating, exhausting, exciting all at once. the emotions are a kaleidoscopic web, and touching one thread sets off a gentle thrum throughout. she stares at him for a long moment, and then in loud incredulity: ）

Excuse me, you're how old?

[Damn, this is the only thing she has to say? I think you’re losing your touch, D.

There is a resounding, commanding, “Quiet,” in their heads as he gently places the slug down and turns to face her fully.

He has no reason not to answer like he usually wouldn’t answer on the Frontier. Those people were not tied to the deepest parts of his spirit.]

Ten thousand years.

[Sorry for the old age. He watches her with concerned scrutiny.]

Are you alright? You should sit down.

I'm fine.

（ it's a bit brusque, accompanied by a shake of her head. the last thing she wants now is some indication he thinks she's weak. ）

Just — surprised.

（ longer than the history of her world. chakra has only existed for a thousand years. he predates all the bloodlines, all the feuds, all the countries... the sheer immensity of the timeline has her stricken. and he's listened to all her little problems without complaint, huh? it must all seem so petty. there's a little flicker of self-admonishment evident in the soft touch of their connection, and she folds her arms, defensive. ）

Is that... （ the thirst, the lust, the... everything ） really how it is for you all the time?

[She is so stubborn and for what? But he doesn’t press even though he can now actually feel her momentary adjustment from everything dumped on her.

The questions he expects, and this time, he can’t dodge them when the other person has a deeper perspective into who he is. So he just gives her his undivided attention.]

It’s a part of who I am, yes.

[It is with him all the time, and all he has is a blanket of composure over the top, the threads perfected by how long he’s lived.]

It’s not something I can change.

（ well, then, he'll likely feel little pinprick of annoyance, too. her expression flattens out, and she comes over to where he's standing. puts one hand down on the little slug sculpture, and shifts it further back on her desk. more because she's a bit particular about where everything is than out of concern that something might happen to it. once she's standing just a handspan away, chin tilted up to look at him properly, she says — ）

I'm not asking you to change. I don't want you to. （ she's been down that road before, hasn't she? begging for someone to walk a different path. better to accept what is than what could be. ） It's just a lot for one person to have carried by themselves for so long.

（ fathoming that span of time is... difficult, but not impossible for a mind like hers. she's working through it, calculating and assessing and picking a path through the thorny tangle of its weight. it's like having your back to a mountain, feeling its shadow over you, knowing that the entire sum of your life's work and love and loss is only a grain of sand to its towering peaks.

in some ways, it makes his compassion all the stranger. all the sadder. she thinks of someone like kaguya, whose lifespan seemed so alien then, and how it had only made her cold. is she like the lords of his frontier? someone who has forgotten connection, forgotten care...

her mouth turns down at one corner in bleak unhappiness and hurt on his behalf, and she reaches out to let her fingers snag against his elbow, squeezing just faintly. ）

Thank you for trusting me.

（ is all she says, through the ache of new awareness. ）

[I CANT FIND MY POINT GIVER WAS IT YOU gently beats you up if it was in thanks while i yell at the sky!!!

If D is offended by the shifting of the sculpture, he doesn’t show it (typical), although he doesn’t appear to mind her in his space. She’s now also buried somewhere in his core, so there isn’t any point in being irritated by closeness. Besides, he’s standing in her soul.

He has little right to try avoiding intimacy.

The gaze he gives her is gentle, but focused in the usual way of him not being ashamed of making direct eye contact. He looks over the face peering up at him.]

I would rather it have been me than anyone else. [Mr. Bears Burdens Alone.] Humans should be able to enjoy their lives without worrying about eternity.

[It wouldn’t feel right or fair to put that kind of weight on people whose lives are so short already.]

You’re welcome. [There is a hidden thanks too somewhere in there.] I’ll try explaining what I can.

[Since he knows if he offers her the idea he doesn’t mind looking for a way to reverse it if she gets too uncomfortable, she’ll be cross with him. Still there, though.]

If you frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles.

（ it reminds her, almost uncannily, of her conversation with jonas. where she'd spoken about shinobi, and why they do what they do and he had essentially asked her, what about you guys? their job is to spare others from the horrors of war, but... they were children too, once.

he must have been the same, lifetimes ago. ）

Just because you can stand something doesn't mean you should have to.

（ the words are gentle, the sentiment something she thinks she'd say to naruto and sasuke if she was ever able to meet them before their worlds darkened. her fingers tighten against his arm, and then she pulls him into a hug.

this height difference is ridiculous, truly. smushed against his chest, deeply uncomfortable. he smells inoffensive, like leather conditioner and whatever he uses to wash his hair. it's comforting, in a way, even if literally no one should be this tall!! and broad!! it's rude to her, personally.

when she pulls back, she rolls her eyes and shoves at him a little. ）

What, is Lefty going to object to a little natural aging? Joke's on you, one of my techniques causes premature aging anyway.

（ mitotic regeneration is powerful, but cell division still has a limit. she's pretty sure she found a white hair the other day (promptly plucked out). maybe one day she'll be like tsunade, the hard truth of a body ill-used in decades of combat, concealing the evidence beneath a henge. but for now? now, she is determined not to care (too much) about it. ）

I believe that is something I have said to you.

[Using his words against him!!

If he’s being honest, the hug does surprise him. In ten thousand years, he’s had so few of them given to him.

But he isn’t a rude and unaware young man, at least. On the contrary, after a second’s hesitation, he brings his arms up to slide them around her shoulders. It’s polite, and it’s also genuine, and canon says she can supposedly feel all the muscle under the leather with her arms around him.

He allows her to pull away when she wants, though.

Pah, a voice says in her head. No sense in ruining the beautiful face of a young woman! No sense in it. Back me up, D.

D just looks at her as if this is what he’s always had to put up with and now he’s sorry she does too.]

I don’t mind.

[Traitor…]

Is it?

（ that surprise is entirely feigned.

also, canon is silly and should feel silly, but sure, what a muscle-y brick slab of a man. ridiculous.

maybe that hug lingers just a little. touch starvation is a whole thing. ninjas and physical contact have a rather fraught relationship. but trust is a warm, settled tether between them. fond. even if exasperation wars alongside it in answer to the little parasite. ）

Then I guess you're off the hook. Verdict's still out on whether or or not I'm going to punch your hand gremlin, though.

Don’t worry. He’s already had some fun a week or so ago.

[The only thing the parasite can do is groan in horror and upset. D’s face doesn’t change, but his energy feels… ever so slightly pleased. Hehe.

Maybe not hehe for him or Cedrik at the time. Well, correction: maybe not for him at the time.]

…Are you feeling any better?

（ please understand that his determination of 'fun' concerns her. his comment just gets a faint lift of her eyebrows, and then she's letting it slide in favour of answering his question. ）

It's hard to say right now. （ wait, no — ） Um, I just mean... I'm worried about my friend, and I'm not sure the bond is equipped to ameliorate that. But I do think it'll help while I look for him.

I understand.

[He doesn’t try to convince her not to worry, not to overwork herself (that would be useless).

He’ll just have to be the grounding force behind her unrelenting search.]

My offer to help is still there.

（ she gives him a long, long look, her expression unreadable save the very faint pinch between her brows, and then steps back and away from him, dropping into the chair at her desk. it's a swivel chair, and she spins it in a lazy circle. ）

To be honest, I'm not entirely certain what help you could give... I know you're a powerful, capable person, but if neither Sasuke nor myself can sense Naruto...

（ she bites her lip. the concern does bleed through, but only in trace amounts. ）

I told you I was in the Forges. I saw people being burned alive. （ if she'd been in her own body, she might have tried to stop it. but she couldn't risk the sharingan or rinnegan falling into the wrong hands, and she wasn't familiar enough with sasuke's abilities that she would have felt confident fighting, especially with only one arm.

she looks down at her hands, flexes her fingers. she should work on one-handed seals, just in case something like that ever happens again... ）

I haven't told Sasuke... but if Naruto was taken by the Forges... I'm not sure there's much we could do at all. He's the strongest out of the three of us.

[Hm. Well. He understands why she would think of strength and capability and brute force. Not only from her experience, but knowing him too, knowing how he is and what he is.

She isn’t entirely wrong. He has built himself up as a young man who solves dangerous physical problems.

But… she can feel the frown in him, the concern.]

I will keep an eye out, but I don’t believe there is anything I can do. However, I didn’t mean only about Naruto.

You and Sasuke are left. It’s difficult to continue when others are gone. If you need anything.

（ she's not exactly accustomed to accepting concern from others — it winds her, and she looks away determinedly so he can't see the twist to her expression. ）

We're shinobi. From a young age, we're aware that our bonds are transient. Sasuke and I will manage.

（ at the very least, sasuke wouldn't appreciate having anyone ask him, are you okay? she can only imagine that's a question that's been asked of him too many times in his life. is that what life looked like for him, after the massacre? well-meaning adults pressing unwanted pity on him?

her feelings towards sasuke are a dark tangle. love, fear, anger, a sort of fierce, protective nurturing, deep compassion. she keeps it buried, but d's perceptive — he'll probably recognize it for what it is. she reaches out and takes the small holographic portrait up in her hands, looking at kakashi's masked face with a frown, tracing the spot where naruto would have stood with her thumb. ）

But I appreciate your offer just the same. If I need anything, you'll be the first to hear about it, okay?

[Hmm.

It’s impossible not to feel the inkling if these things from her, and though he only has speculations, he thinks he understands them mostly. At least the surface level of them. But he doesn’t say anything.]

There’s a difference between losing him as a shinobi and losing him as a friend.

[She really does remind him of himself sometimes, so he doesn’t think he can scold her. (But he does understand very well.)]

Alright. If I hear or see anything, I’ll let you know.

There isn't. Not for us.

（ it may seem strange for her to find the two things synonymous, but the truth is... it's the cruel truth of her world. and if it makes her seem cold, or uncaring... well, d is now privy to the maelstrom of emotions she holds tightly in check. he knows better. ）

Thank you. You met Sasuke, right? Did he, um... （ there is no polite way to say 'did he try to kill you or anything weird' but that's just #keepingupwiththeuchihas for you. an odd, frustrated fondness colours their bond briefly, and then she blows out a breath. ） Was it a positive enough meeting you'd feel comfortable reaching out to him as well...? Just to check on him. He's, ah... he isn't always very open with me.

d | a december catchall (open & closed)

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i will neither confirm nor deny

🫠

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