Hatake Kakashi wasn’t an exceptionally lazy person per se, he simply chose not to fret over thing most others would.
Such as the pile of unmarked papers on his desk, or the multitudes of emails flooding his folder. Both consisted of nuances of academic whining which, in light of their..increasingly scholarly discussions in class, was quite a surprise.
Naturally said discussions were often lost in the margins of his preferred book of the week.
Which more or less usually ended with the other things he couldn’t be bothered with. Perhaps it was an after-effect of becoming accustomed to this particular here-and-now.
..Or maybe he was slacking off more than he was usually prone to otherwise. Cue a timely glance at the desktop screen that blinked with the arrival of another email, before swiveling to the clock hanging on the other side of the University’s teachers lounge.
1500 and counting. Professors and of the like were usually around campus for far longer, especially if they had reports to submit.
His back to the sun, he stood atop the skyscraper, his shadow cast across the cityscape. He stood precariously on the guardrail, his cape flowing around him in the breeze. As if Thor had struck his anvil, the wind carried his message as it rolled across Pendulum city like thunder. It was the sound of hope to the innocent, the sound of dread to naughty spirits.
“BOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
The moment everyone had been waiting for, Don Kanonji had finally arrived
Hardly without fail, Grimmjow could be found in one gym or another, working the machines or one of the punching bags available.
This time, he was at the local gym, the one he frequented the most. Unlike his new abode, Darby Lane didn’t have anything that was near as well equipped as this one. Those that were open in that area were run down, abused by the street rats that lived there and neglected by the owners themselves. Which was why he never so much as touched any of the equipment there.
Here, he was free to land as many blows as he liked without a care against his current target. A huge punching bag.
His strikes were swift, vicious and filled with a feral ease that spoke of how well-versed he was in hand-to-hand combat. Yet no matter how much he pounded the bag did his rage manage to be quenched. He was still pissed from the news that that Shinigami had relayed to him- now all he could do was dole out punishment and get stronger before that damned Kurosaki got here.
Another solid shot and the bag popped open- worn out leather tearing and releasing grains of fine sand.
After everything that had transpired in that ancient temple, Boa Hancock emerged from the experience almost renewed- freed from the terrors that haunted her after memories of years past reawakened. For the time being. At the very least they were held safely at bay now that she had taken out her frustration on those vexing obstacles.
What she was left with now was a cool, collected mind. One that she could effectively utilize without interruption to create a strategy for handling her current predicament. The security at her mansion had tripled, and the personality she would don reworked. She would be a fool to believe that she was safe now, not when there was another Shichibukai on the prowl. More may soon arrive.
It was ironic, really. Hancock hadn’t any interest in ruling Pendulum in the first place.
So now she stood on one of the many streets of Pendulum, the perfect picture of innocence. All she wanted was to find a book.
“Ah... E-excuse me. Could you please direct me to Pendulum Library?”
Of course, Itachi did not like attention to himself- but Ino wanted everyone to know it was his birthday. She had bought a sash for him to wear at work - but she knew he would refuse that.
Instead, she pulled up loud and colourful decorations outside their house with confetti filled balloons bobbing around the fence of their front yard and a birthday wreath on the door.
(So even if a person were to pop them, they would be covered in glittery confetti!!)
With a final hanging of an arty, black and white photograph of Itachi, she drew a heart around his face in lipstick before stepping back inside.
As soon as the pain started, she knew what it was. Ino called her husband and they immediately got a taxi booked to the hospital, grabbing the pre-prepared overnight bag and taking Mikoto with them (who only lived next door). She could feel herself shake as she got in, but his hand on hers soothed some of the nerves.
It could be nothing, just normal pain – but when they got to the ward, the nurse confirmed that these were, indeed, labour pains.
Ino’s shaking got worse and so did the pain. No matter how comforting Itachi was at the moment, she had never felt anything like this before and found her trembling only becoming worse with each passing second. She could hear agonising screams, the likes of which she had shut out during her hospital rounds in Konoha- but it only made her anxiety worse. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she clutched at her belly, hoping nothing would go wrong.
“Itachi- call your family, Yoshino-San and Shikamaru,” she instructed as she cried. She didn’t want him to come inside – he had witnessed enough trauma in his life and didn’t deserve to see this through as well. However, Ino was relieved when Mikoto offered to go inside with her when it was time. She didn’t want to be alone.
Her vision swam as she took a last, sweeping glance at Itachi before heading inside with the nurse and Mikoto.
Several, excruciating hours, a lot of screaming and wailing later (along with her shouting at a nurse for snatching away her oxygen mask), she almost gave in. Until they urged her to keep pushing. It was only the threat of losing her baby that she continued pushing, her body drenched with a sheen of sweat and hair stuck to the sides of her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut and suffered.
Finally, she gained relief when the nurse in scrubs handed her the wriggly newborn that had just taken its first breath in this world. “Aww…” Ino gasped, half crying and half smiling as she took in the sight of her baby.
A baby boy. A summer child, like the rest of the Uchiha.
“Tell him outside,” she murmured softly, not taking her eyes off the baby whose face seemed to be a magical analgesic in itself.
He was a tiny and vulnerable little thing, like some fragile little shoot off a plant. His hands were curled into the smallest of fists and his chest was beating rapidly as he took in lungfuls of strange, sterile air. Long, black lashes,a shock of dark hair and pink skin...
Ino brought the babies fragile forehead to her lips and kissed it. “You’re beautiful.”
Meanwhile, once everything had been cleared as much as possible, the nurse headed back outside at the request of the mother and caught sight of a man with long, dark hair and broke into a beaming smile.
