#butterflysuture

[haganekotetsu-archive]

Kotetsu’s there in his Thursday best: a light flowy white top with a collar and its top three buttons undone and a nice pair of breezy khaki pants to beat the heat.

He takes his shoes off in the front room, shifts a box full of glass to his left hand and knocks enthusiastically with the other.

“Chouts’kiii!! It’s meee!! Kotetsuuuuu~!”

@butterflysuture

[ni-ju-ni]

Konari gently tilts the cup in his hand in a circular motion, the melting ice mingling with unsipped single-malt at the bottom of the glass.

"Well, seeing a handsome face always lightens the mood," he says, laugh lines creasing as he smiles warmly. "It's not just flattery, I promise. It's the truth."

continued from ༄ for @butterflysuture

[infernoparadis]

starter || @butterflysuture

"Oi, are ye Choutsuki Higanbana?" Sasori's eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him. He didn't have a Bingo Book photograph to go off of, but this stranger matched the description supplied to him by his spies.

Behind him, Deidara stood with his arms crossed, bouncing his weight from one leg to another. He didn't do well with waiting, much like Sasori himself.

[motherofsharingan]

”Very easily with only one lung? Are you sure?” She stared at him in disbelief. Perhaps it was doable but she didn’t think it would be easy.

“That.. doesn’t sound so plausible.”

@butterflysuture

[haganekotetsu]

Starter for @butterflysuture

The lock to the office was easy enough. Kotetsu didn’t have to bother picking that one since he’d been sneaky enough to come up with some excuse to borrow one of the master keys from the tower. He was a chunin doing his rounds was all, and there was a room he heard someone moving around in where people shouldn’t be.

Higanbana on the nameplate. The right place. The door gets locked behind him and the keys are secured to his belt loop. The blind is drawn over the opaque window and he tosses the spare shirt he brought with him to cover up the crack in the bottom of the door.

That way none of the light from his flashlight should be getting out of his room.

His plan goes into motion.

Step one: locate a hiding place in case shit goes down.

The light passes over some decorative foliage in the corner of the room and Kotetsu goes into action. The real plant is moved from one corner of the room to another. He does his best to memorize most of its notable features and the color and shape of the pot that it’s planted it. He presses his fingers to the top of the soil, slightly damp. It’s a very healthy plant. It’ll do nicely.

The bookcases are easiest to scour. They don’t require lock picks or run the risk of triggering a trap so long as he kept his hands to himself. The titles across the shelves are unremarkable and some of the things he expected to find in a doctor’s office, and someone with a deep history of morticians, insects, plants and poisons.

“No one would be dumb enough to keep sensitive information out in the open like that,” he mumbles to himself as he turns toward the biggest but most promising challenge of all:

Choutsuki’s desk.

He starts rifling through one of the folders left on the doctor’s desk with mild intrigue.

“Just some research about plants… typical.”

[kimimarothechosenvessel]

@butterflysuture

I remember that you don’t always have the best working relationships with the other doctors at the clinic. Is it something like this?

[obitoanon-archive]

[closed thread]

continued from here

@butterflysuture

Obito silently and softly landed on a branch of an old oak, deftly zeroing in on his target from a distance of 30 yards. He was back in Kiri and for once it was a cool relief to his eyes to be welcomed with rain and thick heavy storm clouds. He was glad for once, to leave the burning sands of Suna with the sun, where he had been stationed for the past week.

He was still in Kiri. His Doctor. His Stranger. 

Obito, despite how urgently he was needed in other areas, kept tabs on the doctor regularly, transporting every night to Kiri from his location in other villages. He tracked Choutsuki's progress from the clinic to home. He knew where he lived, and what times he left his home. He knew the relevant places he ate lunch and the times he went out for dinner. Obito narrowed his eyes, stalking him had many advantages, and a few disadvantages. Because there were times Choutsuki wasn't alone, or he was in the company of other doctors or friends, and Obito watched them grimly. He didn't know enough about him to assume anything, this was just glimpses of his life through a very narrow lens, but Obito watched Choutsuki's life as if peering through a series on a streaming site. Flipping the channels he was transported to what a life looked like that belonged to a man he only knew through very brief contact, a few moments of speaking here and there, and the rest... 

Watching Choutsuki having dinner with friends, drinking wine, enjoying himself, it was amusing to Obito, in the most isolating way. Obito had never had dinner with a friend. Never once. Akatsuki didn't do dinners, and if they ever did it quickly escalated into screeching, stabbing each other's eyes with sporks, and shrill exclamations to meet at high noon. Akatsuki were the only men he knew.  

Obito descended to the mossy earth and started walking to where Choutsuki stood, deeply immersed in field work. Obito was wearing his mask and the same navy cloak he wore to his eye appointment. He had no weapons on hand, only a simple sword and thrifty kunai under his cloak. In case he was ambushed by other men. 

[shikaku-the-nara]

"How long have you been experiencing those symptoms?"

“Mah… I’m in my late forties… surely back pain is normal.”

Shikaku sighed, “But I guess if you really want to know.. pain in my lower back occurs everyday. I think it’s near L4 or L5. When it’s really bad I use a heat pad because it’s near impossible to stand up straight without it.”