The Garden of Gods

multimuse written by yukarelinquere

[taoreshi]

Muse Master List & Rules

§ Mature themes present, 21+ audiences. NSFW, multi-ship, crossover/AU/OC friendly.

§ Thread Tracker

Naruto: Momochi Zabuza, Yuki Haku, Nara Shikamaru, Hoshigaki Kisame, Yamato/Tenzo, Orochimaru, Umino Iruka Naruto OCs : Hyuga Tsubaki, Haruka (bios wip) Bleach: Izuru Kira, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kenpachi Zaraki, Kokutō Bleach OCs: Mitsuki D. Gray Man: Tyki Mikk, Yuu Kanda D. Gray Man OCs: Trevan Mitchell, Dr. Raul Slate (bios wip) Jujutsu Kaisen: Nanami Kento, Mahito Jujutsu Kaisen OCs: Arlen Levar Ducatte MXTX: Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian, Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue Fandomless: Huiyan Jingyi

Blorbo brainrotting with @divinidy @bishopofgreed @sumikeshi @smilingshxdows

[taoreshi]

// ty for your prolonged patience. We are going to be getting back to our regular scheduled programing here <3

[kisamc]

Kisame immediately noted what Haku was saying. A burger place, huh? If THAT was their idea of a treat, then the two of them really were easy people to please. Or they were just poor. There were plenty of good burgers to get in town. He smiled.

❝ I wouldn't mind a burger for lunch. I know a place with generous portion sizes. ❞ He would walk together with his customers along the docks and back to solid ground. He didn't have burgers often ( why would he? There was bread? ), so no doubt he burger joint owner would be surprised to see him. But, if he brought customers, he should be pleased all the same.

❝ It's right up here, a little off the beaten-path for tourists. Avoiding tourist traps is one of the perks of having a local guide, no? ❞ Kisame said as he gestured to the street the'd be walking up. A paved one going up a bit of a hill. The streets were starting to fill up with people. Tourists trying to find a good spot for lunch, or buy souvenirs. Locals going about their daily lives.

❝ Here we go. ❞ Kisame gestured to the burger restaurant. It had a wooden sign with faded paint. The logo was probably supposed to look like a burger with a smiley face, but the sun had eroded the colours so much it was hard to tell. There were plenty of outdoor space, with tables and chairs and a sunroof to give the customers an escape from the scorch of the sun. The place was surprisingly busy. Kisame lifted a hand to greet some of his fellow locals, and received nods and waves in return. He guided his guests to a table for three.

[taoreshi]

Zabuza alerted to the 'generous portion sizes', positively salivating. But he was a man of few words, especially unnecessary ones. Haku occupied the space of excitement more than enough on his own as he bounded up the path towards the hill, his loose tank top a few sizes too big slipping off his shoulder. "Eheh, its kinda fun to not be the local~" Haku chittered happily, inspecting the logo with a lopsided grin, but did not dwell all that long when Zabuza steadily walked passed him, lead by the tantalizing scent of grease, meat, and heaven. He knew what he wanted. only had to confirm that there was something resembling it on the menu before he ordered. "Seventh Sea Surprise, onion rings. Drink." He stated to the worker who seemed a little intimidated by his stern expression and delivery. But whatever intimidation she felt quickly evaporated when Haku came up to the counter, fidgeting like he had a secret he could not stand keeping for a millisecond longer. "Number 3! Sm-.. medium please!" He glanced a little sheepishly towards Kisame, and with a quieter voice asked, ".. if that's alright..?" Even if it was a 'treat'... Zabuza replied, pragmatically. "Can hold on the onion rings if you want the medium." Kid needed to eat, hardly filled the baggy clothes he had on already. But that was due in part to them being hand-me-downs. Very well loved, well used ones at that.

[kagemaneking]

The support caught him before gravity could reclaim him.

Shikamaru instinctively stiffened the moment Haku slipped beneath his arm, not out of distrust —but he couldn’t remember the last time someone had helped him without expecting something in return. The motion pulled sharply at the fresh stitches, earning a quiet hiss through clenched teeth, yet he didn’t shrug the smaller man away. At the moment, pride weighed considerably less than blood loss.

“You’re stronger than you look” he observed after a few unsteady steps, the words spoken with the detached curiosity of someone whose mind habitually catalogued details, even now. Haku’s frame was lean, almost delicate —but there was practiced strength beneath it. The kind earned through repetition rather than size.

His breathing settled into a slow rhythm as they walked, though each inhale remained shallow. The meadow rolled gently around them, green and alive beneath the sun —painfully at odds with the memory that refused to leave him. Every rustle of grass threatened to become another scream.

Don’t think about it. Don’t.

The shadow at his feet obeyed —it clung close to his boots instead of wandering outward, unnaturally compact, as though caged by sheer force of will.

“Nemura…” he repeated quietly, committing thr unfamiliar name to memory. A village. Civilian. Remote. Exactly the sort of place someone like him should never enter.

His gaze drifted toward Haku as the young man introduced himself. There was something disarmingly sincere about the smile offered to a complete stranger —worse, to a shinobi wearing the insignia of a village that would have gladly hunted the people living in that cabin, had they known who they truly were. For reasons he couldn’t explain, that realization settled heavily in his chest.

“Shikamaru.” It was the first thing hed offered willingly since waking. Though he gave no rank, or surname. Just his given name. Hopefully that was enough for now. He wasn’t really planning on staying. Not for too long.

Silence followed for several steps before he spoke again. Eyes remained fixed on the path ahead. “You shouldn’t trust me just because I’m hurt, Haku.” He leaned more heavily against Haku than he cared to admit, his thoughts drifting back to the ravine he couldn’t escape. When he finally spoke again, the usual dry wit was gone from his voice, leaving only a quiet exhaustion.

“I’m going to ask you for something… troublesome. If you know somewhere secluded —a cave, an abandoned cabin, anywhere far enough from your home and the village… take me there instead. Don’t bring me anywhere near the people here.” his gaze fell to the shadow stretching beneath their feet, his expression tightening almost imperceptibly.

“I don’t know when it’ll happen again. I’d like to believe I can keep it buried, but I believed that yesterday, too. I spent years convincnug myself that as long as I stayed calm… as long as I kept thinking ahead… I’d stay in control. Turns out there are some things you can’t outthink.”

His voice grew quieter, carrying none of the panic one might expect from such a confession —only the weight of someone who had already accepted the possibility.

“If I lose myself again… don’t hesitate. Kill me.”

[taoreshi]

Clearly, the injured enemy shinobi, this Shikamaru, was fighting something more than the flesh deep wounds in his body. It was something loathsome. It was something saturated in that vengeful, dark yin energy that Haku had become familiar with in his engagements and the company he kept. It was not something he could ever entirely understand. But he knew the danger. "I do not trust you, because you are hurt." Haku replied simply, steadily taking Shikamaru's weight, shouldering the majority without complaint. He had carried Zabuza with ease in numerous occasion, Shikamaru was a note lighter. Nor did he have the weight of a blood-lusting blade to manage. "But some things will always be out of our control." A little cryptic, but the fear from this shocking encounter had rolled into a steady rhythm as they crossed the meadows, to the forest edge. A small, winding path was cut through the trees, gnarled roots doing little to slow Haku's careful pace. "You are not an animal. I will not abandon you to some cave or forgotten place." The treeline broke, a small lake and cabin coming to view. Secluded from Nemura, and with Zabuza away, it was isolated. Because even if Haku was unwilling to treat his patient with neglect, he was only so much a fool. "But I will kill you, if I must." He assured, grim, and with a coldness of one who not just saw plenty of death, but delivered it by his own hand. "So behave." Haku implored, hoping that if this fearsome yin energy was anything like Zabuza's, it might be more reactive than proactive. That would have to be seen.

Haku let them inside what was a perfectly functional homestead. A sunken hearth provided radiant warmth from the coals, a small table to eat, a counter to prepare goods, and two sleeping mats. Haku coaxed his patient to lay down on one, tossing a couple logs on the fire to stoke it to life. He poured warm rice gruel into a wooden bowl, then knelt at Shikamaru's side to offer it. "If I'm to help you best, you ought to tell me what you can. About... 'losing yourself'. If you can muster, that is. I imagine you are exhausted." He spoke softly, his steady gaze falling on Shikamaru.

[taoreshi]

It was an accident, what happened at the academy. That was what everyone was saying. And with how old the school building had become over the years, that a loose tile or two might come free and fall, and into a crowd of unsuspecting staff and children was a tragedy waiting to write itself. And it absolutely did in the incident report which had barely hit the Sandaimei's desk before Hiruzen was on the move with a fire of someone twenty years younger. He might have even made it out the door if it weren't for the calls of the village elders and the ages long itinerary they had yet to go over. Hiruzen's only relief was mixed as Asuma spoke up, all but quiet in the proceedings so far.

He would go in the Hokage's stead. This was how the man came to stand outside Umino Iruka's hospital room, arms crossed. Aside from staff, Asuma did not allow anyone else inside. Even if he and Iruka's relationship was awkward at best, Asuma was not bullheaded enough to endanger the recovering chunin from the near death experience. Because even if it was entirely believable that this was all indeed an accident, an unconfirmed sighting on the academy's roof put anyone on edge. Asuma especially. He had just been in town for a rare visit, an old flame he couldn't get out of his head. And, well, maybe his experience as one of the Twelve Guardians made him too quick to suspect foul play. Unlike the land of fire's daimyo, Iruka was a nobody. And as frustratingly affable as he was, it was even harder to imagine a personal grudge to boil over in broad daylight. Still, until he could get to grips of the situation himself, Asuma appointed himself as a security check, just in case. So, naturally, when a hopeful individual made it clear they were headed to Iruka's room, Asuma spoke, pleasant, but the sort of politeness that left one feeling cold. On the clock, as it were. "No visitors. You may leave any well wishes there." He nodded his head to a bench where a few stray flowers and some hand-written notes courtesy of some students.

[weallenduphere]

Kakashi: *Watching Iruka cook them dinner* "You know... You would make a good housewife."

Iruka: "What?? Uh, that's not very funny."

Kakashi: "No, I mean it."

Iruka: "..."

Kakashi: "Do you want to be my wife? I have a nice big house with a huge yard that I'm sure you would love. I already got the dogs, and you have the kid. It'd be picture perfect."

Iruka: "I think you drank a little too much..."

Kakashi: "Please marry me. I want to hold you before I die."

[yg-arts]

wip

[taoreshi]

// I don't really consider myself an artist but I got the itch to doodle and even if it isn't rendered 'beautifully' I just want to convey the vibe tm.

Hyuga Tsubaki, "Hagetaka", permanently exhausted and tired of your shit

[taoreshi]

"What if they kissed?" (for Shikamaru!)

What If They Kissed? Status: Open

Shikamaru had a certain... reputation when it came to the ladies. Across the board there was a healthy amount of mixed feelings which was to be expected; but that there were enough opinions to go around on the topic. And it cultivated certain views on Shikamaru's character. "I swear its the same thing, every time." Shikamaru groaned, taking a strong hit off the pipe he smoked. "I can say 'till I'm blue in the face its one of those 'no strings attached' deals, no frills or fuss or whatever. Just a little mutual benefit, ya hear? Well, they'll agree then, but the next morning its like that conversation didn't even happen. Like I'm their boyfriend or whatever and I abandoned them after sex."

Complaining as he was, however, Shikamaru did find good company in Neji who sipped at a bit of sake, nodding in contemplation over his peer's problem. "Perhaps there are preexisting feelings which they hope intimacy may change your mind." Neji offered thoughtfully.

Shikamaru made a face. "Eh, I dunno about preexisting but... I think changing their mind is on the money. But I'm the bad guy for staying true to my word..."

Neji chuckled a little, gesturing for Shikamaru to pass the pipe of that special Nara mix that made the eyes water, the tongue numb, and the mind dumb. Certainly a reprieve for two titled 'geniuses' or whatever people called them. "Is it the same with men?" Presumptive, given the way Shikamaru coughed off guard. "Hrk.. sorry... Um... Hm." Shikamaru paused, eyes falling on Neji as though trying to glean something intangible from the question. But that was just the beauty of being high as a kite. At some point, following the constant connections became a mute point if you could hardly remember the premise a few steps in. It let Shikamaru be grounded in the present, speak off the top of his head. It was liberating to not have to go through such scrutinizing processes to arrive at the most optimal answer. He could be messy and incomplete. "Not given it much thought, honestly. Can't say I am opposed either." It was a most fascinating thought. Shikamaru considered himself reasonably experienced in the bedroom with women, the nuance of each encounter becoming less and less interesting. His mind was always searching for the next fix, the next new thing he could solve with a good payout; making someone orgasm was a pretty rewarding engagement, minus the whole aftermath of messy affairs that often followed after.

How different would it be with a man...? Already there were anatomical differences too stark to say his experience would translate much one to one. And the whole notion caused Shikamaru to laugh, shoulders shaking at the thought of being inexperienced in something he had considered himself to be rather good at just moments before. "Hope a guy's mouth works the same way, or I'm going to be really out of my depth.. heh." That was when Neji said something unthinkable, and it had Shikamaru stare at him like he had grown two heads. "Want to try?" A few more blank blinks from Shikamaru prompted a clarification. "A kiss." There was a lot to take in. "... not gunna wake up to a gentle fist to the face?" A wry smile twitched into the corner of his mouth. Neji snorted, amused. "Not unless you leave me at the altar." The two laughed at the absurdity, but not without Shikamaru leaning towards Neji, nearing in a way that left little to the imagination what he planned to do. A clumsy hand brushed a piece of hair away from Neji's face, sloppily holding it back as his fingers tangle in that smooth, well cared for hair. It smelled nice, Shikamaru noticed. Neji's skin was soft, and those trait-Hyuga eyes were something otherworldly up this close. But he had spent a little too much time admiring. Neji was about to give him and out. But the words were muffled into a kiss, fizzling into nothing as they shared this strange, exploratory moment. Soft, like a woman's. Maybe it was unfair to say, but Neji was pretty as one too. The kiss itself was brief, but by no means a peck. When Shikamaru pulled back, Neji canted his head, a little mischief, a little curiosity glittering in his eyes. "So? How does a man's kiss measure up?" To this, Shikamaru shrugged, laying back in his spot with an immaculate buzz. "Dunno, honestly..." His head fell lazily to the side, eyes remaining intently on Neji. "Might have to do another sometime." He smirked. "Comparing, of course."

[taoreshi]

☀ What’s your rp pet peeve? -

Salty AF Munday Meme Status: Accepting!

Answered here!

[lvyeshou]

Gai started at the sight of such formal clothing. “Oh- wow. Iruka-san, I’m not sure if— Thank you, thank you.” Receiving the outfit Iruka offered with two hands, Gai even bowed a little.

It was flattering, of course, to have his physique complimented. Gai was hardly oblivious to the build he’d achieved over the years; he had invested countless hours into perfecting his training regime, and it brought him immense satisfaction to watch the changes in his physique.

What was surprising, however, was the way Iruka seemed to trip over his words, and— was that a tinge of pink creeping up his cheeks? If he didn’t know better, he would think… did he? Did he know better? Come to think of it, he’d never seen Iruka with a man, but he’d never seen him with a woman, either.

Most other men who admired his physique would do so quite openly, maybe give him a fist bump, and ask him about his routine. For Iruka to so determinedly avoid looking at his body, blushing the way he did… It was cute. Gai couldn’t help wanting to prolong the interaction by more than a little.

“Food sounds wonderful, but only if it’s not too much trouble! I’d hate to bother you, especially after you’ve gone out of your way to help me already. I’ll, uh—” Gai cast a sheepish gaze to the kimono and hakama in his hands. “I’ll get dressed at an amazing speed!”

[taoreshi]

That Gai received his father's traditional clothing with such deference was warming. Not that Iruka thought the jonin would be anything but grateful, it was still reassuring that it would be treated with mindfulness and care. It was in good hands. "Not at all a bother." Iruka affirmed sincerely, escaping to the kitchen so he might recover a little from being from having a half-naked sculpture of a man standing in his living room with nothing but the hopes and dreams of a towel to maintain his dignity. A bare body was perfectly normal. It was not as though Iruka felt this way at the public bath; then again, he had never seen Gai there either. "If you dress too quickly, I won't have anything ready yet." Iruka laughed a little, shaking his head. Of course Gai would derive some sort of personal challenge in all of this. Shortly after, Iruka set to work. Now, he was no culinary genius, but he did have the basics down to a reasonable and more importantly, edible range of expectations. It had been some time since he had done a fresh grocery run, but the small smatterings of pickled eggplant, seaweed, shreddings of green onion, crab, and river trout, the makings of a pair of poke bowls was underway. Not much was needed to process, thankfully, the majority being left overs anyway, but the trout needed processing. So began the de-boning. As Iruka worked the knife to dice and portion the fillets, he heard a noise that he presumed to be his guest having changed. Brows furrowed in concentration, Iruka guided the knife around the ridge of one of the spinal columns that just didn't want to let go of the flesh. Without looking up, Iruka said, "Oh, I should have asked-- are you allergic to anything? Probably should have asked that before..."

[taoreshi]

♦

Salty AF Munday Meme Status: Accepting!

♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise?

To be honest, I get fatigue from writing certain character types which lean into stereotypes fans often label as 'dominant'. And I have a few reasons why I gripe on this. 1) It really is not fair to shove a whole depth of sexuality under what feels to be porn logic from the get go. 2) Even when I write a 'dominant' character in depth and with nuance, the way the character(s) are treated are very clearly in the light of a 'dominant'. 3) The 'dominant' is almost always expected to drive the sexual experiences, initiate, pursue, etc. It's exhausting.

I am not at all knocking novels or stories that place the reader in the POV of the receiver of affections. I love me a good romance where I can sit back and turn my brain off while I am spoonfed delicious characters and scenarios. The problem with taking that same mentality to roleplaying is that it places all the pressure on the other partner with little to no reciprocation. A 'dominant' character, or a character that stereotypically takes charge/tops seems to unwittingly draw this type of unbalanced reply. I don't have hard feelings or judging anyone, but this is definitely an annoyance of mine.

[taoreshi]

☀ ✮

Salty AF Munday Meme Status: Accepting!

☀ What’s your rp pet peeve? Pet peeve, as in can bother some people but doesn't bother others would have to be two things, actually. 1. Replies without a hook/way for my character to respond. 2. When a reply doesn't add anything to progress the plot or just reiterates everything in the reply prior without any additional context. It is not impossible to reply to, but it takes a lot more mental effort.

✮ Have you managed to stay away from drama?

Honestly, yeah. I've not seen a whiff of tumblr drama on my dash or experienced anything really notable myself recently. 10+ years ago when I was a teen I had a guy who got upset with me after I did not want to write yuri with him anymore who pretended to commit suicide. The whole 'friend messaging from his account to tell me he is in the hospital' thing. I blocked him and he made other accounts telling me how much a bitch I was for not giving him a second chance. The other was getting vaguely threatened by someone who claimed to have DID who tried to post selective screenshots of how bad a person I was. I posted the whole conversations. Never bothered me again. Honestly, it may just be those experiences that prevent me from getting so emotionally invested as to invite that level of potential backlash. I still very much adore the people I write with, and this is not to say I am not emotionally invested. Just better able to filter and recognize a possible sour interaction.

[justrpmemesandmusings]

the salty af munday meme

Because, like it or not, we’re not all balls of sunshine all the time. We can be pure salt when we want to be.

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

♥ What’s the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?

♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise?

♢ Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz

♚ How many people don’t like you?

⚜ How many people do you not like?

✮ Have you managed to stay away from drama?

☄ Have you ever been in the middle of drama?

☯ Have you ever tried to bring peace to a situation?

☼ How long do you stay mad?

☀ What’s your rp pet peeve?

☁ Have you ever forgiven a partner when you shouldn’t have?

☂ Have you ever been forgiven when you knew you shouldn’t have been?

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

☣ Have you ever rp’d with someone you knew for a fact was abusive but tried to give them a chance/to make up your own opinion on the roleplayer? Did they change or did you understand what people were talking about?

♨ Have you ever made a public call out post?

❀ What has made you completely lose your chill?

✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

✂ A fandom that you feel isn’t open and accepting?

✉ A fandom that you feel is open and accepting?

✦ Thoughts on duplicates following you?

✧ Do you agree with reblog karma or is it forced interaction?

❥ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you?

❦ Has someone been jealous of you?

❧ Have you ever been jealous of anyone?

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you’re currently rping in?

❣ How salty are you feeling right now?

[adaerika]

Third Medicine Seller has appeared!

I believe his title is "Ken"

They really just keep making the designs more difficult. Guys give the animators a break. I imagine animating og was there to make animators feel sane.

[zimowahistoria-kuro]

new mononoke project suicide postponed

[niinshu]

meanwhile , mangetsu. . .

one could call it an optional quest to the original mission. for him , it was a necessity. intel will always be a necessity. something he could gather alone without detection with or without using mist to travel through.

twelve hours. . . the sun would be on it's way to rest for the day once more by the time he needed to rendezvous with zabuza. that is almost too perfect. his original request would have resulted in the same thing but who is he to reject a compromise?

two hours had past by the time mangetsu located his targets. three iwa-nin , obviously armed but their guard? tch. they wouldn't even see him coming. let alone detect him. literally. the hozuki's bloodlust and malicious intent was so deeply hidden that killing them couldn't dare be compared to training. enemies were supposed to be tougher than that. jonin were supposed to be tougher than that. even chunin , as of lately , have grown stronger than them. it was disappointing really. mangetsu hated easy just as much as he hated dealing with an ambush. yes he could handle himself but the over and under guesstimating gets exhausting.

no matter. the trio were now deceased and strung upside down in the trees dangling above one of kiri's greediest treasures: kubikiribōchō. ❝ you've grown quite the ravenous appetite since then , haven't you kubi? ❞ mangetsu speaks low but aloud toward the blade who appears to be happily devouring the blood of it's victims from their sliced dripping necks. he sighed with the shaking of his head , recalling his reaction when he summoned kubikiri out of the scroll.

to say kubikiri didn't attempt to drain him of his energy those times he wielded the blade would be a lie. but hunger of this magnitude couldn't even be compared to samehada's. the difference? sentience aside , despite samehada's bottomless stomach , she was a picky eater and an even pickier selector. kirikubi was neither and wanted energy in the form of either chakra or blood , to the knowledge of the majority. hell , having both simultaneously was even worse for reasons no one should explore. not even mangetsu was willing to go that far in his experiment or letting it happen by mere accident or coincidence. mangetsu was careful. irritatingly careful. ❛ i refuse to feed you my chakra in exchange for your durability. however , ❜ mangetsu grips the hilt tightly in resistance , witnessing his own frown via reflection. ❛ should you last for this fight , you will be greatly rewarded. ❜ 

and a promise is a promise. fulfilled within four hours. then , another three spent meticulously draining the remainder of blood from the corpses before chopping them to bits. sealing both , only this time around , kubikiri and hirame within the special scroll , mangetsu departs from the inconspicuous scene to the southeast shore across his village with less than three hours to spare. roughly fourty-five feet out into their ocean were pilings; each individual one scattered twenty feet from the other. when the mist is light enough , the pilings would be visible but interestingly not what's beyond them. on one of them , it was where mangetsu perched; feeding the aquatic guardians of kiri the bodybits from earlier while he waited out the remainder of his time and when it came , with no signs of a boat breaking through the mist , he grew increasingly confused every five minutes. then thirty minutes doubled and the mist fell thin. then that hour doubled again as the water had grown still. now , almost fifteen hours. . . ❛ where could he be? momochi-san isn't the type to be late. ❜ he pondered his partners whereabouts for another fifteen minutes before finally committing to the act of seeking the elder swordsmen out.

and by some miracle from following his hunch , mangetsu quietly snuck into the zabuza's quarters without encountering the others. partially physically reformed , in the event the man's fight kicks in rather than his flight , mangetsu hovers just above his head; staring. watching. observing , mostly. the steady rise and fall of his chest. the loose humps and curves of the gauze wrapped around his neck and face. the subtle reaction the gauze has to his breathing through the outline of his parted lips. the tiny beads and trails of sweat littered along his forehead fall around the creases of his eyes. shoulders too it seems and by a guess , the back of his neck as well. for someone who didn't have a blanket or sheet over their body , zabuza appeared to be unusually hot. a light fever perhaps , mangetsu assumed.

then. . . without further thinking , for concern was overriding every logical reason why touching this man while defenseless was a bad idea , mangetsu reaches out with his naturally cold solidified hand and lightly presses his palm to zabuza's forehead.

[taoreshi]

Zabuza was a solitary creature. He did not mingle with the other swordsmen outside of obligatory partners, and even then, he was what some of his colleagues to consider a man of few words and even fewer friends. And in a way, his assigned quarters was a reflection of this sentiment. It was not decorated, furnished only by the standardized issue that had come with the place. Dust gathered in a thick film that coated everything, the counters, the low table, everything but the couch. The bedroom door clearly had not been opened perhaps since the day Zabuza had earned Kubikiri. He did not trust it. He did not trust any amount of space that offered even the smallest point of entry for an enemy where he could not be ready. Of course, that only really worked if one was conscious enough to do so. Normally, shinobi slept light. But a sick one was wise to find a discreet place to cram themselves into. Zabuza was too stubborn to consider that his body could and would determine when it was going to rest, and the moment Zabuza had sat down had been the one to seal his fate. There was never a place 'safe enough' for Zabuza to willfully relax.

So for someone as stealthy as a man who could literally liquefy on a whim, infiltration was met with no resistance. Zabuza slept, albeit fitful. His loosely wrapped bandages betrayed the puff of heavy breathing, sticky, hot and damp against his skin. He always ran hot for a Kiri. But as to whether that was a decision of his bodily function or his burning fervor to grind himself until there was nothing left to give was unclear. So when Mangetsu so boldly pressed the cool of his palm against Zabuza's forehead, the effect was immediate in the form of a long sigh of relief. It was like finding the cool side of the pillow after tossing and turning. Only... it was not enough, not for long. Whatever Mangetsu had been identified as in his feverish state could not be spoken on, however, he clearly had not been flagged as an enemy presence. Although it would be easy to believe such, given the way Zabuza's eyes flared open, yanking Mangetsu's body towards him by the hand that had been so bold as to touch him in the first place. But just as quickly the temper flared, it fizzled, forehead pressed somewhere in Mangetsu's midsection. "...the hell let you in..." Zabuza mumbled, grip tight on Mangetsu's wrist, but made no effort to reposition. Whatever strange sprawl his body had found itself in was an afterthought to the refreshment of not burning from the inside out. He did not have the energy to think outside his immediate bodily needs.