A/N - ssh, sssssh nothing to see here, move along, move along, but thank you @han-pan for getting me to open the app for the first time in weeks to consume my FAVORITE KIND OF STORY - aka, Kai Family Shenanigans.
Every year, Takeda Corp hosted a grand costume party.
There wasn’t any particular reason for this to happen - it was just the sort of thing one did when one was fabulously wealthy, overwhelmingly fond of their employees, and inclined to any sort of excuse to ingest copious amounts of alcohol and delectable food.
(Popular rumor was that one of Shingen’s lovers had instigated the tradition when she had wistfully recollected that TV had lied to her, what with nearly every show featuring the dazzling and wealthy having a mysterious masquerade at least once a season and thereby setting up certain expectations that had been grossly undermet by reality. Shingen, being Shingen, had swooped in to rectify this, but then insisted her face was far too lovely to be covered with a mask, and so it was costumes instead. Of course, still being Shingen, he had also insisted that other parts of her were far too lovely to be covered, and both Shingen and mistress were, notably, absent for the first few hours of the affair.)
(“Affair” being, one must acknowledge, the operative word.)
All of this was, mind you, conjecture and theory, and though Shingen’s mistresses had changed, the tradition had remained. What had also remained the same, naturally, was how particularly serious Sanada Genjirou Yukimura was regarding his costume selection.
It had to be grand, and put-together, and thematic, and appropriate - after all, he was representing Takeda Corp (and in particular, the Sanada stake in it), and if Shingen was going through such trouble to make such a festive event, it was only fair he put in equal effort to attending it. (Technically, mind you, it was Shingen’s long-suffering and ever-loyal secretary, Kansuke, putting in most of the work, but Kansuke enjoyed such things, insomuch as he enjoyed anything, and though he had worn the same exact costume every year the tradition had been running, no one had yet to notice or comment.)
The challenge, of course, was in getting Saizo to play along.
His wife did, and little Sasuke too. But Saizo--Saizo--was another story. Yukimura had wheedled, and bargained, and begged, and sensing the (exasperatingly) tenacious nature of husband, wife, and small but stubborn student, Saizo had at last agreed to go along with whatever theme they selected, provided he could choose, compile, and wear a costume of his own choosing.
It was not, Yukimura quickly found out, the victory he had believed it to be.
That first year, his wife had been a beautiful blossom Yukimura a bright, round peach, and Sasuke a fuzzy and--though he would protest the description--adorable caterpillar.
Saizo, in a black shirt and pants, had proclaimed himself a branch.
Yukimura had been certain the next year that his recalcitrant bestie would join in, with Yukimura and his missus as Orihime and Hikoboshi (and Sasuke as one of his cows) but Saizo had slipped quietly alongside them, in a black shirt and pants, claiming to be the Milky Way - or at least, how it appeared without a telescope, anyway.
(The worst part of that year, Yukimura still sulked, was that Saizo had spent the entire night getting between him and Yukimura’s own beautiful bride, claiming only to be sticking with their theme).
But the next year!
Alice in Wonderland!
Surely there was no possible way for Saizo to avoid something fun and colorful and bright and odd, not with Yukimura and his cheeks painted with a card soldier’s hearts, his sweetheart with the Dormouse’s round, adorable ears atop her head, and Sasuke cackling as his overlarge hat slipped down over his eyes for the umpteenth time of the night.
And then, of course, Saizo has appeared, in a black shirt and pants, as the hole through which Alice had fallen.
But this year, Yukimura vowed. This year would be different. He would get Saizo in a costume - a real one - if he had to duel the man himself.
(Which technically, he had done a number of a times before, with varying results, but frankly getting Saizo to agree to it had about the same success rate as costuming did).
The three of them sat, huddled together with hushed voices. His darling wife spoke first, small wrinkle in her brow as she focused, distracting Yukimura temporarily with how much he loved it, that little wrinkle, which naturally extrapolated into how much he loved her, the woman who bore the wrinkle with grace and determination.
“Cinderella, maybe?” She offered. “Yukimura could be the prince, and oh, Sasuke you could be a mouse!”
Sasuke gave her a look of pure disdain, well beyond his tender years, and wrinkled his nose, “Ugh, no way! At least lemme be the prince’s bodyguard!” He leaned in, urgent and solemn, “I won’t let anyone flirt with Yukimura this year.” He straightened, doing his best tough-guy impression (an impression, all would agree, that looked quite a bit like his older and larger counterpart, or at least until he opened his mouth,) “Begone, thots!”
“Sasuke!” The wrinkle disappeared as her expression yanked into shocked dismay, “Where on Earth did you--nevermind. Just. Don’t, don’t say that. It’s not nice.”
Their group was garnering quite a bit of attention in the quiet little cafe, and the outburst only served to draw more eyes. Sasuke noticed a pair of them linger a little too long on his favorite dunderhead and raised a skeptical but patient eyebrow until they diverted to himself. Once captured, he frowned and made a shooing motion with his hand where neither of the oblivious couple could see. Begone, thot!
Yukimura, looking focused and faraway, shook his head, “It won’t work, anyway. He’d only use it as an excuse to leave at midnight.”
Mumbled sighs and assent followed.
Sasuke muttered under his breath, “No need for a costume in that theme, anyway. He basically already IS your fairy godmother.”
Not catching the mumble, they blinked, “What was that?”
“Hmm?”
“Nothin’.” Sasuke dropped his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands, “What about pirates?”
