#so no beta

[kirbysuckz]

Guy = Strange (pt. 2-ish)

(right, so i said that i would make a sweet and fluffy sequel to my last post… but then i remembered what song i wanted to write about for guy’s perspective…)

“Isn’t it strange? How people can change. From strangers to friends, friends into lovers and strangers again.”

Is the main point I wanted to touch on. That Guy determined their relationship by each visit.

Kakashi didn’t. He either assumed they’re okay or they’re not. Kakashi had never considered them lovers. At least, not outwardly. He never wanted to solidify something so heavy.

The song starts with,

“I tried for you. Tried to see through all the smoke and it wouldn’t move. What could I do?”

That’s all Guy ever did. He tried with all of his might. It was in his name. It was in his blood. That’s all he’s ever known to do, was try.

But Guy has his limits. He does, truly. It doesn’t seem like it, but Guy doesn’t go moving mountains. He scales them, he breaks pieces off with his bare hands, but he doesn’t move them. He probably could, but what good what that do him? To unearth something that doesn’t express any desire to be moved.

So he stopped. And he would be the mountain now.

Well, that was then. Kakashi was an intelligent ninja. He knew Guy better than he’d ever admit. Maybe even better than Guy knew himself.

It’s not that he didn’t care about Guy. Kakashi told himself that he cared too much. They both can’t be the loud and proud, unwavering lover that Guy always was. Kakashi wasn’t even sure he could be the man that Guy was.

What Kakashi failed to realize was Guy’s inability to half-ass something. Especially relationships. From acquaintances to eternal rivals, everyone was deeply loved and thoroughly cherished by Guy.

Guy’s aloofness hit Kakashi harder than any punch from Sakura, post-Tsunade mentorship.

Kakashi couldn’t show up on Guy’s doorstep and let that be their reconciliation. He tried. Guy wouldn’t allow it.

Kakashi wasn’t as headstrong as Guy. Kakashi never went out of his way for much. At times, he felt as if his feet moved without him demanding them and his brain started making plans without purposeful conceptualizing.

Kakashi has been called a lot of things. Intelligent, cunning, extraordinary (he liked those), lazy (mean, but true), perverted (arguable, he says), and a lousy friend (ouch).

It typically wouldn’t hurt. But he studied Guy’s lips as they trembled. He couldn’t bear to look Guy in his eyes. They now, of all times, struggled to hold back tears. There was so much disappointment painted on Guy’s face. And all of it was caused by Kakashi.

Time and time again, Kakashi continued to disappoint people. To his friends for being late to plans. To his students for being late to training. To higher-ups for being late to- Gods, he needs to be better about being late (he won’t).

But this was Guy. Guy was.. He didn’t know! Different? Guy was an enigma! Guy was his own version of human. He was kind through the toughest times. He always had a smile on his face. He never let his determination falter.

So now seeing Guy, giving up, his smile, long gone and now stuck in a grimace…

It was then determined. Kakashi couldn’t be the unbothered, unmoving mountain anymore.

What good would it do him to continue doing so? He once said it was to protect himself and others from being hurt. But now he’s hurt, and others are too.

Damn it, Guy.

Only he could move the once unmoved Kakashi mountain without an ounce of effort. And if there was anyone who could actually move a mountain, it would be Guy.

Now it was up to Kakashi to fix things. What was he to do?

(i recommend reading my last post but now with this song as guy’s internal dialogue.)

(does this count bc i didn’t make it a full and agonizing post and it’ll lead to sweet sugary fluff ❤️)

(i will make something so sweet and cute and full of love. he will get the love he deserves!!!)

[realtacuardach]

Close

“Let me help.”

Obi looked over and grinned at Miss, who was sitting across the fire from him and sending him a look that was part scowl and part concern. “No can do, Miss. You need to rest that arm.”

Miss involuntarily glanced down towards her arm, and jerked with a spasm of pain at the movement. Her lips tightened, probably trying to hide the wince that spread across her face, but she knew better than to think Obi and his habit of noticing everything would miss it.

“It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

Obi arched an eyebrow at her. “Miss.”

She sighed and leaned back against the log, taking care not to jostle her arm which was securely fastened in place with Obi’s cape after he had bound it under her watchful gaze and occasionally interfering fingers.

He sighed and went back to his work, carefully but ruthlessly plunging the triple-threaded needle through the skin together with another stitch. He regarded his progress with a detached air. Probably needed five more stitches before he was done.

“Obi,” she called, more quietly this time, and he looked up to see her eyes beseeching him, which was not helping his resolve and concentration, “I just want to help.”

Obi looked down again as he pulled the skin taut. It was not doing any favors for his state of mind or resolve to keep from kissing her senseless to see her looking that way at him and speaking that way to him, all while wearing his clothes. Only his cape, he cautioned himself, but still. It made him want things he couldn’t have.

He injected a note of brevity into his voice, and hoped it would convince her. “You have helped plenty today, already, Miss. I think stopping a runaway horse in its tracks is a good enough service, don’t you?”

“But I didn’t!” She exclaimed, biting her lip which he determinedly did not look at. “I just got the child out of the way. You were the one who -”

“Details,” he smirked, but the vivid memory of watching his Miss leap into the way of the foamy-mouthed horse tearing down the street and getting knocked hard into the ground made his tone more bitter than he intended.

“Obi,” she ventured, “are you angry with me?”

Still trying to keep his tone light, he looked up at her. “Well, I’m not thrilled, Miss.”

She glanced at him, and he decided not to mention how attractive that was. “I couldn’t let that little boy get hurt, not when I could do something to stop it.”

“I know,” and he did, “but you need to be less reckless.”

She was going to be the death of him - or more terrifyingly, the death of her. He wished she wouldn’t fling herself into danger so readily, even if it was to help others, but she wouldn’t be his Miss if she didn’t.

Miss snorted. “I’m not the one who jumped onto the horse and rode it out of town before jumping off. I’m not the one who got their arm sliced by the bit in the horse’s mouth.”

“No, just the one who got her arm broken.”

Obi looked up, preparing to flinch under her glare, but saw a guilty sadness instead which was much worse.

“I’m sorry, Obi. Not for saving the boy,” she corrected, “but for getting you hurt.”

“I can handle it, Miss,” he sent her a reassuring smile. “I’ve had to deal with worse, and I did it own back then, too.”

Miss frowned and looked down at his chest, and he could feel the scar there burning under her gaze. He hoped she would assume the flush across his face was caused by how close he was sitting to the fire.

She sighed and pushed herself up to her feet, wobbling a little as she attempted to use her injured arm to boost herself up before remembering it was in a sling. She ignored his sounds of protest as she skirted around the fire and sat besides him.

“You need to keep the sides of the wound together, so it’ll heal better.”

“Miss,” he sighed, “I may not be a doctor or pharmacist, but I’ve sewed many injuries before. I know what I’m doing.”

Miss huffled a little bit and leaned forward, her arm shifting slightly out of her sling as she turned to face his arm. He just managed to keep from jerking back. “Miss, your arm!”

“Is firmly in the sling,” she countered, “this isn’t hurting it.” She reached forward, and pinched the sides of the wound closer together with a firm, practiced grip. “Go ahead.”

Her touch burned like a brand, but he wanted her to never let go. He coughed. “Miss, I can do it on my own.

She looked him straight in the eyes. “I know,” she replied, “But you don’t have to. Not while I’m here.”

Obi swallowed hard and hoped she didn’t notice, although it was unlikely judging how her eyes slid to his throat and widened slightly.

Only years of having to shove all emotions and feelings behind a stone facade kept Obi from becoming completely unfocused on what needed to be done. He bent to his work and continued suturing his arm, noticing how Shirayuki’s fingers silently and smoothly traced down his arm to where they were needed. He triple-knotted the end of the thread and bent down over his arm to cut off the remainder. He felt the satisfying pop of the thread severing between his teeth, and looked up to see Miss’ face barely two inches from his own.

Despite her being the one who leaned in unnecessarily, she looked taken aback. “Obi?” She breathed out.

Obi tried and failed to keep his eyes from sliding down to her lips. A man could only resist so much. He looked up into her eyes. “Yes, Miss?”

She swallowed. “Would you -”

The sudden thundering of hooves sent them sprawling back from each other, Obi’s hand moving just in tie to cushion her arm against the log while reaching for his daggers with the other.

Miss squinted into the distance and then smiled, waving her uninjured arm above her head. “Hello! It’s good to see you!”

One of the guards from the fortress rode up, the reins of another horse tied to the saddle. “You as well, Miss Shirayuki! I saw Sir Obi’s signal, and - Sir Obi, are you well, sir?”

Obi was still sitting on the ground with his hand across his face, cursing soundly in multiple languages inside his head.

So close.

Too close.