#uchihaflame

[lvyeshou]

It’s not that hard to find him. Kakashi said if there is shouting and lots of green, then without a doubt he’s found his mark. Shoving his hands in pockets, Sasuke approaches the jounin with a small frown.

“Kakashi said I need training from you. When are you free?” Direct and to the point. He hates asking, but when your teacher been gone more than usual there’s no other option.

@uchihaflame

Gai watches the grumpy Uchiha approach with a small half-smile. He’s been told to expect him.

“Yo, Sasuke-kun! That comes as a surprise, given our rivalry…” A hand on his chin, he pretends to consider the question. “Although, I guess with Kakashi in slumps of his recent injuries, he has little choice but to send you into my rigorous routine!”

It’ll be a wonderful opportunity for Kakashi to see just how much Sasuke can improve under Gai’s tutelage. He bets that in just a week, he can halve Sasuke’s reaction time and increase his explosive speed. Maybe Sasuke would request a transfer to his team by the end of the week!

“We start tomorrow at six, right here. Every minute that you’re late is one suicide sprint. Come prepared with your most fiery spirit, for training with Konoha’s Green Beast is no half-hearted endeavour!”

[tenebrisforibus]

"Is that blood?" - tobirama

– 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗦 !

The words make Tobirama pause. He blinks at Sasuke in mild confusion. Curiosity flares from the younger nin's lightning-fire chakra, directed at his face.

Huh.

Tobirama rubs his right hand on his cheek, and-- yes, indeed, a tiny blood of red on his thumb. He blinks at it in mild surprise.

"Papercut," Tobirama hears himself say. "On my face."

Ah. Must've been the pell-mell chaos in his office earlier-- that chunin secretary bearing this big ream of paper. Yes. Makes sense. Hm.

[tenebrisforibus]

"Don't be angry with me.." - Madara

𓆝 ⋆｡ﾟ🌊｡ : THERE'S WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE

He's trying. By the gods and all the circles of hell in the Shinigami's stomach, he. Is. Trying. But Madara Uchiha, unfortunate, has inherited the fiery temper of his clan, though right now he is doing an impressive job of not striking his youngest child, and in a bygone era, Tajima Uchiha would have beaten the life to an inch out of the ten-year-old.

All his life he'd vowed he'd not be like his father. So far he's succeeding, but there were just instances that--.

Madara crouches down so he and his son is at level. By the gods, Itachi never gave him this kind of problem. (And as the saying goes, it is futile to compare your children; no two persons are alike. A strength for one is a weakness for the other, and vice versa.)

"Did I not teach you to never stoop to the level of a playground bully? It was, what, a simple misunderstanding," Madara spits out the word with venom because he will not -- and shall not -- hit his son. "Over your role in a play. So what if Satoru--Satetsu--whoever the ffish he is, so what if he got the role of the Giant Clam and you're a seahorse? Uchiha Sasuke, you are not to hit a fellow child with genjutsu just because he--"

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Madara squeezes his son's small shoulders. He stands and draws himself up to his full height. Itachi, who is sitting nearby, watches in quiet.

"Tomorrow I am talking to your class advisor. You will not be cast as anything in this year's school play, so you understand my point."

Of course, Sasuke throws a tantrum. His father does not budge, no matter the tears and hiccups, and even as he dives into his niisan's hug for sanctuary, Madara does not relent.

When the time comes for the school play to be shown, Sasuke is seated like his father and brother like everybody else. He sulks, hands bunched into little fists, and he wants to go leave the theater now and just-- he was sorry, okay? He was sorry. He did say he was sorry.

Madara gives him a look, and Sasuke scowls and bunts his forehead against his father's arm.

He's sorry, tousan.

[tenebrisforibus]

"Hurry, you only have seven minutes!" - tobirama

𓆝 ⋆｡ﾟ🌊｡ : THERE'S WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE .

The Hokage's children have been trained very young on what to do when the man undergoes an innate sensor's overload attack. The Uchiha boys had been deprived of their mother when Sasuke had been born (birth complications), and when Itachi had been five. Since then, Madara had trained them to go to trusted relations' and friends' houses as he waits out his debilitating attacks.

Tobirama had no children, but he does also have a small list of responsible people who know to drop by on his house to water his little plants and feed his koi fish. It was a reciprocal arrangement.

So on that day, Tobirama found Itachi arriving at his doorstep with little Sasuke in tow. Itachi was presumably from the Academy and picked up his brother from the daycare. They had a duffel bag of clothes.

Tobirama welcomed them, prepared to host them for as long as it takes the fit lasted. In a week, or perhaps five days, depending on what he sensed from Madara-- he will check in on the man.

That evening, they tuned in on the radio for a cooking show that challenged listeners to complete certain recipes. They'd followed an udon recipe and, well, it had been exciting, and now Sasuke is bouncing up and down, yelling they had seven minutes.

Tobirama chuckles as Itachi slices the spring onions.

"Not to worry, little duck," Tobirama says, mirth making his oceanic chakra ripple. "Seven minutes is yet quite a long time, and, see-- your brother and I are wrapping up."

[tenebrisforibus]

"i'm not going to bed." - to madara

PROMPTS FOR WORKAHOLIC CHARACTERS WHO PUSH THEMSELVES TOO HARD

The elderly and retired Nidaime Hokage shuffles quietly into the room of his now-grown adult son, and finds Sasuke poring over what looked like a jutsu scroll. In old age, Madara has stooped, with more wrinkles on the face as he could have imagined, his hair a shock of white, which he has since trimmed to his shoulders and kept out of the way with low ponytails or buns.

The old shinobi had a plate of tomato-and-tuna sandwiches. He sets those on Sasuke's secondary desk, and he stands close to peer at what his son is busying with. Yep-- jutsu scroll. Madara says naught; shuffles back away and out of Sasuke's room.

Quiet.

But then the old Uchiha returns with two mugs of tea, and he sits down by Sasuke's bed edge. Makes himself comfortable. He sets one of the mugs by Sasuke's night stand. Now, he hurses his remaining mug with two, withered and gnarled hands.

Two can play this game, Sasuke. You're not going to bed? He isn't either.

And Sasuke had grown to be a health nut -- specifically a nut for his father's health.

Madara will win this fight in... he glances at Sasuke's bedside clock. An hour. Two, tops. Then the overgrown duck will give up, declare bed time if only to send his old man to sleep as well.

Huehuehue.

[choyume]

“i’d rather you just tell me.”

ʚïɞ      . . .     𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒     ／     @uchihaflame

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐃  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐎𝐅  his  justified  impatience,  Shinobu  glanced  up  from  her  current  occupation  just  in  time  to  catch  the  fraying  edges  of  Sasuke’s  visible  reservation.  A  smile  tugged  at  the  Hashira’s  lips,  equal  parts  understanding  and  amusement  at  his  evident  displeasure  with  her  discretion,  yet  she  held  no  intention  of  indulging  him  just  yet. 

❝   Now,  now,   ❞  she  chided  instead;  the  lighthearted  scolding  of  a  girl  who  saw  in  his  insistence  a  delightful  streak  of  defiance  rather  than  outright  confrontation.  ❝   Patience  is  a  virtue,  Sasuke-kun.  You  would  do  well  to  cultivate  it.   ❞  

[akuroi]

ꕥ      . . .     continued  from  here  with  @uchihaflame  !  

𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘  𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐀  𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍  his  lips  had  not  yet  betrayed:  a  physical  reaction  that  exposed  the  true  nature  of  his  emotions  at  the  implication  of  her  knowledge.  It  seemed  almost  too  easy  to  coax  a  reaction  from  him,  who  had  initially  appeared  so  stoic…  at  least  to  the  trained  eye  that  longed  to  strip  him  bare  of  his  secrets. 

❝   Oh,  you  know…   ❞  Her  words  heralded  by  a  demeaning  chuckle,  Sayuri  lifted  a  manicured  hand  just  quickly  enough  to  feign  the  decorum  of  veiling  it.  ❝   Rumors  of  the  rather…  questionable  sort.   ❞  

With  no  intention  of  answering  his  question  outright,  the  thief  instead  resorted  to  something  far  more  playful:  a  counterquestion,  designed  for  her  own  entertainment  rather  than  his  pacification.  ❝   So?   ❞  A  faint  tilt  of  her  head  accompanied  the  coy  prompt.  ❝   Want  to  let  me  in  on  whether  people  are  right  about  what  they  say  about  you,  or  not?   ❞  

[maudlxne]

@uchihaflame said | [ DRESS ] sender without prompting helps receiver put on a jacket [ hinata --- i love little affections like these ;w;

     She's exhausted. Social gatherings always tended to tire her out, especially when it came to rubbing elbows with the rich. Even if all she had to do was stand there and look elegant and keep her mouth shut while the men talked. Make some small talk amongst the other wives and young unmarried women her own age. Avoid any uncomfortable situations that come her way that could disgrace her husband's name. Not because he had asked it of her . . . but because it was ingrained into her as natural as breathing. Born and raised to be the perfect wife who would make any household proud. Bridal lessons taught her how to be the perfect doll. 

     Luckily for her, her husband wasnt one to be overtly social. Once their respective duties were complete, it was time to leave. Her exhaustion only showed in the way her shoulder sagged slightly. Dressed elegantly to match him in a dress that fit her like a glove. Even she had to admit they made a striking pair. Gloved fingertips reaching out for the shawl being held out by the attendant, only to feel it slip just out of reach. 

      Moon-like hues blinked as she saw Sasuke move from the corner of her eyes, resting the warm material over her shoulders and carefully tucking it into place. Head canting upwards just enough to gaze at his face from over her shoulder, even if it was brief, before averting her eyes moments later. Afraid he would see the stunned, in awe look that had taken form. 

      ❝ Oh . . . Thank you. ❞

      Her face felt like it was on fire. Heart hammering in her chest so loudly she worried he might hear it. Despite having been an arranged match by their parents . . . he could be rather attentive at times, especially lately as they had properly settled into their new normal. Just enough to make her wonder. That maybe . . . just maybe he didnt resent her after all.