"Hidan." Marisu called softly, tapping the lump beside her. There was a muffled groan from beneath the sheets as it shifted. She smiled and ran a hand through the silver tuft of hair that poked out onto the pillow.
"It's our off day." he whined, "Can't we just stay in bed? It's like, six in the morning and it's cold outside. Plus these pillows are fluffy and shit... Fucking amazing..."
Marisu glanced at the clock at the bedside and at the glowing blue numbers on the alarm clock. 10:38, it showed. Hidan had fallen soundly back to sleep as she slipped out of the sheets and walked to the bathroom. When the shower started running, he pulled the blanket off his head and looked out the window.
It didn't snow in February, but it was still cold enough to want to bundle up in a million layers and sit next to the heater all day. His wife wasn't particularly bothered with the weather, saying that she was used to it. It was the same type of climate of the other village she once lived in. Hidan pressed his lips together at the thought of her past.
She was four years older than him and had already had the experience of a family. She had a husband and a son back then. He'd seen pictures of the two and the way her eyes would light up when she talked about them... Though they had met an unfortunate end a little bit before Sakura asked her to join the village.
It wasn't that he was upset that she still mentioned them from time to time. In fact, he loved it when she brought them up. All he wanted was her to be happy-- with herself, with him, and the life they were living now. Hidan sat up with a wide yawn and leaned back against the headrest.
He hadn't had someone precious to him in a while. Six years, it probably was since the last time he felt the need to keep something (or someone) safe. His faith was what he kept close to heart when he accepted it as a naive teenager.
But... when he became a surgeon and felt that thrill of saving lives instead of taking them...
Hidan sighed, thinking to the pendant that he kept stashed away in one of the drawers. It wasn't a life he wanted to go back to. Everything he had now and the opportunities he was given? He wouldn't trade it for the whole goddamn world.
Marisu stepped out of the bathroom clothed in civilian wear with her hair braided to the side. Her bangs still covered the scarred half of her face. Hidan stretched his arms out towards her and enveloped his wife in a hug.
"I love you, you know that?"
She bent down and pecked the top of his head.
"I love you too."
::
"I've had enough of wearing aprons, Kisame."
"Suck it up. You're Uchiha Itachi-- I'm pretty damn sure you can handle some frill."
In Kisame's apartment, the ingredients to make chocolate were laid out on the counter. Valentine's Day was coming up in a week, and Kisame mentioned that making something for Sakura could boost him along after that horrid coding mistake (Deidara laughed so hard that he nearly fainted from lack of oxygen). So here they were, standing in oddly domestic-looking kitchen in their respective brightly colored aprons.
"These aprons are hardly pleasing to look at." Itachi deadpanned. Kisame pointed a wooden spoon at him.
"I'm an S-Rank feared throughout the Shinobi Nations that happens to be responsible adult who knows how to manage his finances. If I see aprons on sale for 50% off on a Saturday morning, I am going to get those aprons even though they look like the devil's grandma made them. Now shut up and stir your chocolate, we don't got all day."
The younger man refused to roll his eyes and did as he was told. It was odd that this is was where all the faults in his life had led him too: making Valentine's Day chocolates like a genin. He expected to have already been killed by his brother years and years ago whilst freeing him of the curse mark. He'd done at least one good thing if that happened.
Itachi looked down at his bowl. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his life had done a 180 degree turn, the more it made him think. If he rejected the opportunity to join Otogakure, would he have been happier dying at Sasuke's hands or now?
"I've been wondering 'bout something, Itachi-san."
Kisame pulled out a couple square mold trays from one of his cabinets.
"I thought it was kinda weird when you confessed. How long have you liked Sakura-sama anyways?" he asked. Itachi let go of the silicone spatula and wiped his hands on a damp rag on the table. He unconsciously tilted his head a bit as he thought back to it. When exactly... Ah. It had been that day.
"When she decided to continue her duties despite her handicap of a broken arm and a crutch." he answered simply.
He would never forget the day he spoke to her when she was in that condition.
It was like the entire village shared a sigh of relief when Sakura and Kabuto returned to the village fatally wounded, but alive. They were taking a quick three day visit to the Daimyou and were due back by the end of the week. But when they were absent thirty-six hours from the time they were supposed to arrive, half the ANBU were dispatched to scout the country or find some trail to where they could be.
Unexpectedly, the two arrived at the gates two whole weeks later chakra low, caked in dried blood, and wounds open for the world to see. Sakura was barely able to keep her eyes open, and Kabuto would've collapsed to the ground if it weren't for her hoisting him up on her shoulders.
They were captured by missing nin that excelled in torture and held an enormous grudge over the ordeal with the Jomae.
At the hospital, Sakura's advisors were informed of the extent of the torture. Kakuzu told the rest of the shinobi force the gist of their injuries, no doubt leaving the details out of it. In short, it was that Sakura would be incapacitated for an undetermined amount of time but not longer than half the year, and Kabuto would be in physical therapy for the following three months.
Kisame, being Sakura's bodyguard a majority of the time, stood guard of her's and her assistant's room until they were released from the hospital. It was far from a pretty sight. So much so that he didn't divulge too much information when the others inquired about it.
A week from that, Sakura was up and about like nothing happened. She was swathed in bandages, had her left arm in a sling and the other grasping the hand-grip of a crutch. She waved off everyone's concern with a bright smile.
"I might be handicapped, but that doesn't make me an invalid!" she said to them, "I could still punch you guys through a wall if I really wanted too, you know."
They took her word for it.
Itachi had to give an oral intelligence report to her during her time of healing. He found her not in the office, but instructing some doctors down in the Medical District. He waited patiently until she was done and walked her back to the tower as they conversed. But eventually, he grew distracted from the grand extent of her wounds that he wondered how she was even let out of the hospital.
"You should be resting." he found himself telling her. Sakura looked up at him, eyes twinkling and a brilliant grin spreading across her lips.
"What kind of leader would I be if I did that?" she said, nudging him with her elbow, "I've already been gone for three weeks, I can't just let everyone else down even more! They look up to me."
Her grin softened into something he didn't know how to describe.
"The very least I can do is be there for them. But you know me, I don't settle for the very least. It's all or nothing-- and these people deserve everything I have to give."
It was then he found the word to express her as she was.
Enchanting.
Kisame furrowed his eyebrows as he raked through his memory for that specific time. Sakura had only used a crutch once, and that was--
"Dude... That was three years ago." he murmured, aghast.
Itachi inclined his head and took the spatula again.
"Hm. It seems so." he hummed. He took the tray Kisame held out to him and began the task of pouring the chocolate in the molds, "Though it's not as long as your affections, is it?"
There was something funny about seeing someone taller and older than you stumble head first into a doorway. Nervous chuckles trickled from his mouth as he turned around, messing with the top of his navy hair.
"Eheh... it's that obvious?"
"Slightly."
Kisame grin strained for a few seconds before he abruptly spun around again and switched the subject back to the chocolates.
"After we put these in the molds, we'll just stick 'em in the fridge overnight and we can see how they are tomorrow morning. And you can just leave everything in the sink, I can take care of 'em myself. That cool?"
Itachi surveyed him for a few moments, untying the knot of his apron.
"Hm."
::The Next Day::
"I just..."
"Kisame." Itachi said. Kisame pointed incredulously at the chocolates in front of them. Or, what were supposed to be chocolates. They more resembled lumps of dirt.
"How do you fuck up that badly?!"
"Kisame."
"We just mixed ingredients-- are you cooking impaired? Holy shit, you're fucking terrible!"
"Kisame."
He turned his head to his long time friend and saw the accepting face he had on. Actually, he had done much better than he thought he would.
"What?!"
"Shut up."