valentine day
ft: sasuke, itachi, gaara, indra, shikamaru, neji, obito, kakashi, hashirama, tobirama
wc: 2.1k
Konoha was quieter than usual.
Not because the village was peacefulâKonoha was never truly quietâbut because tonight, people had chosen to celebrate instead of train. Lanterns glowed softly along the streets, and small stalls sold handmade sweets and flower charms. It wasnât an official holiday, but over the years, the villagers had adopted a small tradition: giving gifts to those they cared for most at the end of winter.
You didnât expect Sasuke to care.
So when a crow landed on your windowsill with a scroll tied to its leg, you nearly dropped your brush.
Meet me at the training field.
No signature. He didnât need one.
The field was empty except for him, standing under the faint glow of lanterns hung by the villagers. His cloak fluttered slightly in the night breeze, dark eyes fixed on the sky like he wasnât sure how to start this.
âYou came,â he says, as if he expected you not to.
âYou summoned me,â you reply lightly.
He scoffs but steps closer. In his hand is a small wooden box, carved with the Uchiha fan. He hands it to you like itâs a mission report.
You open it slowly. Inside are chocolatesâuneven, slightly cracked, clearly handmade. A few are shaped like tiny kunai.
âI didnât know what you liked,â he mutters. âSo I made something simple.â
Your chest tightens. âYou made these?â
âSakura gave instructions. Naruto was⌠banned from helping.â
You laugh softly. Sasuke looks away, embarrassed.
âI donât care about these traditions,â he says. âBut you do. And⌠I didnât want you to think I ignored it.â
You step closer, closing the distance. âYou didnât have to.â
He meets your eyes. âI did.â
The lantern light catches his expressionâserious, raw, honest.
âYou matter to me,â he says quietly. âThatâs all.â
You gently take his hand. He stiffens, then lets his fingers intertwine with yours.
The night is cold, but standing beside him, it feels warm.
For Sasuke, this is love.
The cherry blossoms were late this year.
Still, the tree outside Konohaâs eastern gate bloomed just enough to scatter petals across the ground like pale snow. Itachi stood beneath it, hands folded in his cloak, watching the petals fall.
You didnât question how he arranged this meeting. With Itachi, explanations were rarely needed.
âYou remembered,â you say, approaching him.
âOf course,â he replies softly.
He hands you a bouquetâwhite camellias and soft pink blossoms. You know their meaning. Devotion. Loyalty. Silent love.
âTheyâre beautiful,â you whisper.
âThey reminded me of you,â he says.
You sit together beneath the tree, sharing tea he brewed himself. The village festival lanterns glow faintly in the distance, but here, itâs quiet.
âMany people use today to express feelings they struggle to say,â he says, gaze distant. âShinobi rarely speak honestly.â
âYouâre speaking now,â you say.
He smiles faintly and hands you a folded letter.
You open it. His handwriting is neat, deliberateâpages filled with words he rarely voices. Gratitude. Admiration. Quiet affection. Acknowledgment of the future he cannot guarantee.
âI cannot promise peace,â he says. âBut I can promise sincerity.â
Your eyes blur as you lean against his shoulder. He gently rests his head against yours, fingers intertwining with yours.
For once, there are no secrets.
âHappy Valentineâs Day,â he murmurs.
It feels like a vow whispered to the wind.
Sunagakureâs winter nights are cold, but the desert stars are bright.
Gaara stands in the courtyard, hands folded in his sleeves, holding a carefully wrapped parcel. Kankuro and Temari are watching from the balcony, clearly amused.
âYouâre Kazekage,â Temari whispers. âJust give her the gift.â
âThis is different,â Gaara replies.
When you arrive, he straightens immediately.
âHappy Valentineâs Day,â you say, smiling.
He nods and hands you the parcel. Inside are handmade sweets and a small cactus in a clay pot.
âI wasnât sure what would be appropriate,â he admits. âBut cacti endure harsh environments. I thought⌠you might appreciate something resilient.â
You smile, heart swelling. âI love it.â
You sit beside him, sharing the sweets. Theyâre simple but carefully made.
âI made them,â he says quietly. âWith assistance.â
He hesitates before placing his arm around your shoulders. His touch is careful, almost unsure.
âI once believed love was impossible for me,â he says softly. âBut you proved that wrong.â
You lean into him. âGaaraâŚâ
He looks at you seriously. âI want to keep learning what this feeling means. With you.â
You hug him tightly. After a moment, he hugs back, holding you as if you are something precious.
Under the desert stars, love feels real.
INDRA OTSUTSUKI ŕŞââ´
The village elders said emotions were weakness.
Indra never believed that.
He believed emotions were powerâwhen controlled.
So when the villagers prepared a small winter festival, exchanging flowers and handmade charms as signs of devotion, he watched silently from the edge. He did not participate. He did not see the point.
You stood among the lanterns, laughing softly with the children, hands stained with ink and clay from making charms. You were calm, patientâso unlike the chaos he often felt inside.
That night, he summoned you to the training grounds.
âYou wanted to see me?â you ask, approaching him beneath the moonlight.
He doesnât waste words. In his hand is a carved wooden charmâintricate, shaped like a crescent moon with chakra seals etched into it.
âI made this,â he says. âIt is meant to protect what is important.â
You stare at it, breath caught. âIndra⌠you made this for me?â
He meets your eyes, unwavering. âYou are important.â
He rarely says things without meaning.
The wind brushes past, lantern light flickering in the distance. You step closer. âYou couldâve given me flowers.â
âFlowers wither,â he replies immediately. âThis will not.â
You laugh softly. âYouâre very dramatic.â
He reaches out, fingers brushing yours. His touch is warm, firm, deliberate.
âHumans celebrate this day to declare loyalty,â he says. âSo I am declaring mine.â
Your heart races. âThatâs⌠a confession.â
No hesitation. No theatrics. Just certainty.
Indra doesnât kiss you. He doesnât need to. His hand over yours, his chakra resonating with yours, feels like a vow carved into the earth itself.
âValentineâs is a drag.â
Shikamaru says it every year.
And yet, here he isâlying on a blanket outside the village, staring up at the stars, waiting for you.
You drop down beside him with a sigh. âYou said you werenât doing anything.â
âYeah. This is nothing,â he replies lazily.
He hands you a small box of chocolates. Theyâre shaped like clouds and deer.
âMy mom made me help,â he mutters. âBut I picked the shapes.â
âTheyâre cute,â you say.
âTroublesome,â he corrects, but thereâs a faint smile on his lips.
You lie beside him, shoulders touching, watching the stars drift slowly across the sky.
ââŚPeople make a big deal out of this day,â he murmurs.
âYou donât have to.â
âI know.â He pauses. ââŚBut you like this stuff.â
You glance at him. âSo?â
âSo I figured I should at least show up.â
You nudge his shoulder. âRomantic.â
He sighs but turns his head toward you. âListen. Iâm not good with words. Or feelings. Or effort.â
âBut youâre worth the trouble,â he says quietly.
He stares at the sky, pretending he didnât just drop a confession. His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining naturally.
âHappy Valentineâs,â he mutters.
You smile, squeezing his hand. With Shikamaru, love is simple. Quiet. Easy.
And thatâs exactly how you like it.
Neji treats Valentineâs like a mission.
He researches traditions, flower meanings, village customs. He plans.
So when he approaches you during the winter festival, youâre not surprised to see a perfectly arranged bouquet in his hands.
âYou prepared this,â you say.
âYes,â he replies simply.
White lilies. Blue irises. Soft pink blossoms. Each placed with intention.
âThey symbolize destiny, devotion, and trust,â he explains.
You smile. âYou still believe in destiny?â
ââŚI believe in choices,â he corrects. âAnd I choose you.â
He hands you a folded letter. Inside is a neatly written messageâhis handwriting precise, but the words heartfelt. He writes about how you changed his understanding of fate, how meeting you made him believe in futures he once thought impossible.
âYou are my choice,â he says quietly.
You step closer, holding the bouquet to your chest. âNejiâŚâ
He gently cups your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. His Byakugan isnât activeâthis moment is not about seeing through you. Itâs about seeing you.
âIf destiny exists,â he murmurs, âthen I will defy it to stay with you.â
You lean forward and press your forehead to his. He doesnât pull away. Instead, his hand slides into yours, fingers tightening.
Under the lantern light, Neji HyĹŤga chooses love over fate.
Konohaâs winter festival is loudâlanterns swaying, children running with paper charms, laughter echoing through the streets.
Obito stands out like he always doesâtoo loud, too energetic, and way too nervous.
You find him near the dango stand, holding a paper bag like itâs a bomb.
âThere you are!â he says, relief flooding his voice. âI thought you got lost!â
âYouâre the one who told me to meet you here,â you laugh.
âYeah, but what if you thought I was joking?â he scratches his head, cheeks faintly pink. âI meanâValentineâs is kind of embarrassing, right?â
You smile. âYou called me here for a reason.â
He takes a deep breath and hands you the bag. Inside are chocolatesâtoo many, different shapes, some wrapped messily.
âI didnât know what you liked,â he says quickly. âSo I bought everything.â
You laugh softly. âThatâs very you.â
He grins sheepishly, then pulls out something elseâa small heart-shaped charm carved from wood, tied with red string.
âI made this,â he says quietly. âItâs supposed to bring good luck.â
You hold it carefully. âYou made it?â
âYeah. I messed up a bunch of times,â he admits. âBut I wanted to give you something that wasnât just from a stall.â
He looks away, suddenly serious.
ââŚYouâre important to me. More than missions. More than being a shinobi.â
Your chest tightens. You step closer and hug him. He freezes, then hugs back tightly, like heâs afraid youâll disappear.
âHappy Valentineâs Day,â he murmurs into your hair.
For Obito, love is loud, clumsy, and completely sincere.
Kakashi doesnât make a big deal out of festivals.
But he notices everything.
You find him sitting on the Hokage monument, book in hand, mask hiding his expression.
âYou came,â he says, eye smiling.
âYou invited me,â you reply, sitting beside him.
He hands you a small wrapped parcel. Inside is a pressed flower inside a scroll caseâpreserved perfectly.
âI saw you looking at these during the festival,â he says casually. âThey donât last long in winter, so I preserved it.â
You stare at it. âYou noticed that?â
âI notice a lot of things,â he replies lightly.
You sit together, legs dangling over the village, watching lanterns glow below.
âPeople like loud gestures,â Kakashi says quietly. âI prefer things that last.â
He hands you a second scrollâinside is a handwritten note, simple and neat.
Kakashi rests his hand over yours, gentle and warm. âHappy Valentineâs,â he murmurs.
Itâs not dramatic.
But it feels permanent.
HASHIRAMA SENJU ŕŞââ´
Hashirama thinks Valentineâs is wonderful.
So when you find him in the forest clearing, heâs surrounded by flowers he grew himself.
âYou came!â he beams, holding out a massive bouquet. âI grew these just for you!â
You laugh. âYou didnât have to grow an entire garden.â
âBut I wanted to!â he says, excited. âFlowers bloom when theyâre cared for. Just like people.â
He hands you a small wooden carvingâtwo hands intertwined.
âI made this too,â he adds proudly.
You stare at it, touched beyond words.
âYouâre someone I want to protect,â he says sincerely. âAnd laugh with. And grow old with.â
He hugs you tightly, spinning you around like nothing in the world matters more.
âHappy Valentineâs Day!â he laughs.
With Hashirama, love feels alive, blooming, and endless.
Tobirama does not care for festivals.
But he does care for you.
So when he calls you to the riverbank, youâre surprised to find a neatly wrapped box in his hands.
âTraditions have social value,â he says simply. âThis one encourages connection.â
Inside the box are rare preserved winter flowers sealed in glass.
âThese flowers endure low temperatures,â he explains. âSymbolic of stability.â
You smile. âYouâre being romantic in a scientific way.â
He sighs but allows a faint smile. âIf this is considered romantic, then so be it.â
He hands you a scrollâinside is a written promise, formal but heartfelt. He promises loyalty, protection, and partnership.
âI do not make vows lightly,â he says. âYou are someone I intend to keep beside me.â
You take his hand. He squeezes back, firm and warm.
âHappy Valentineâs Day,â he says quietly.
For Tobirama, love is deliberate, calculated, and unbreakable.