Sedated (Just a little dizzy)
Tobirama is dragged out of a dead sleep by something heavy landing on him. Despite the suddenness there’s no hint of danger, so-wheezing-he rolls onto his side to knock whatever it is off. Blinking, he squints down at the lump that tucks itself against his stomach. In what little light makes its way through the curtains Tobirama can just make out his little girl’s blonde curls. Too exhausted to process more than /mine-safe/ he tugs her closer and passes back out.
Tobirama wakes again some time later to vibrations rumbling against his belly. Sleep leaves him unusually slowly as he struggles to peel one eye open. His cub is awake, one ear pressed against his thrumming chest. He must have started purring in his sleep again and she’s trying to copy it.
“Good morning Little One,” he murmurs, voice rough as he strokes her curls. She shifts to look up at him, a still-sleepy acknowledgment nudging against him. Tobirama eases them both upright, pulling her more firmly into his lap as he does. He scrubs his free hand across his face to try and wipe away the sleep still clinging to him. He had managed (if barely) to change into a clean set of clothes before collapsing into bed, so after taking a second to smooth down the worst of his own bed-hair he pushes himself to his feet. “Breakfast time, I think,” he tells his cub-despite the fact that he has no idea what time it is. He just woke up so that makes it breakfast. Cradling his baby closer, Tobirama slowly makes his way to the kitchen-squinting at the intrusion of the late afternoon sun. There’s a covered plate sitting on the counter and closer inspection reveals his name on it. Hashi must have left it here after he never turned up for lunch. “Your uncle is very kind.” Tobirama smiles as he uncovers the plate of rice balls. Shifting his hold slightly, he hands his baby one with plain rice before grabbing one with sour plum for himself. In between scarfing down his own breakfast, he gently coaxes her into finishing a rice ball and a half. It doesn’t seem like enough to him, but she very firmly refuses to eat more and in fact insists that he finish off her second one. He does after a short stare down, not happy about it but unwilling to argue in the face of her pouting frown.
/Thirsty/ his cub complains, the accompanying taste of tea an indication of what she wants.
“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Tobirama teases as he sits her down onto the counter. Truthfully he could use some tea himself. Digging around in the cupboards nets him a rarely used and rather dusty teapot and a mismatched pair of cups. His little one watches him inquisitively and a half-formed thought has him reaching out with his chakra. Carefully he draws her spark of warmth alongside his own story ocean as he uses a small suiton to wash the disused dishes and then refill the pot. It’s more elemental manipulation that true jutsu, but there’s no reason to get his baby started with bad habits. Gray eyes are only half-focused when he glances over, most of her attention on sensing the manipulation of chakra.
He sets the water to heat before rifling through the stock of available tea to find one that will please both of them. The green teas are immediately out, and they take turns sniffing the blacks until they settle on a citrus blend. While it steeps Tobirama tries to remember if he has anything he has to do today. Getting cleared by the healers and writing up a formal report can both wait. He isn’t injured, just exhausted, and he gave a verbal report when he first got in. His armor needs repairs, so he’ll have to get that dropped off to the smiths sooner rather than later. Mm, he needs to hunt down Touka and Hashi and confirm that he’s still alive so that they don’t wake him up later when they inevitably try to break into his room out of concern. They do that if no one’s seen him in over 30 hours. The evidence of their care is nice, the interruption not so much. Pouring both his cub and himself a large cup of tea, he lets his gaze linger on rumpled clothes and rather untamed curls. It reminds him of his own greasy hair, and the remnants of muck still clinging to him.
“Bath time for both of us next,” he comments almost absently, smothering a yawn as he slumps tiredly against the sink. “Then maybe some errands.” Scooping his little one up again, he carefully plops the still half-full pot into her little lap and tucks their empty cups into the leftover space between them. A flicker of intent keeps the tea from spilling on the way back to his room, where it gets set on his desk and the cups re-filled. Once back inside his cub wiggles to be let down, and she immediately starts poking around. He watches her for a few moments, basking in the contentment and innocent curiosity filling the room. Then he turns to his closet, smothering another yawn as he digs through it as he searches for a box of his childhood clothes he vaguely remembers still having. He’s always been rather small, so there should be something that will fit. The box is, of course, completely buried but he does finally manage to find it. An easy tug of /come here/ has his daughter skittering over from where she had been . . . . . climbing the bookcase???? “Please don’t do that,” he tells her as she slams into his side with a soft thump. She blinks up at him innocently, and he scowls and flicks her softly on the forehead.
Sorting through the clothes goes quickly-she only fits in the smallest-and if their still a bit loose well. Nothing is falling off, so he’s counting this as a success. Grabbing his own change of clothes, Tobirama considers the mess he’s made for all of 30 seconds before just shoving everything back in and closing the closet door.
Good enough.
One of the best parts of being part of the main family-one of the only good parts-is that Tobirama has access to a private bath. It’s the work of seconds to fill the tub-slightly lower than he normally would- and only a bit longer to stroke up the fires to heat it. He just spent a month in Kiri, he is not taking a cold bath. He strips, shoving his own clothes into the laundry chute before helping his cub remove hers and setting them off to the side. He’ll have to wash those himself. His poor girl seems bewildered, so he pulls her close and explains as best he’s able while washing the both of them. She isn’t particularly dirty, but her hair is a terrible mess, and he more than once considers just taking a blade to it. He can’t actually bring himself to do it though, and quietly resigns himself to speaking with Kimiko about hair care and potential styles. Once her curls are finally knot free the water is steaming gently and so he sinks into the tub with a please groan. Ah, bliss. After nearly a minute, he manages to scrape enough of his brain back together to lean over and snag his cub. Settling her on his belly, he raises his legs up enough for her to lean back against his thighs. The tub isn’t actually big enough for him to stretch out in-and he’s mostly sure that he would wake up if he slipped under-so he doesn’t bother to fight off the drowsiness seeping into his bones. He dozes lightly, tangentially aware of the whole house as his tight control over his sensing loosens, but obligingly stirs when little feet drum on his chest. He hums and is poked with a delighted reprimand of /no sleeping!/ He’s not, strictly speaking, particularly concerned with the very low possibility of drowning, but snoozing in the bath probably isn’t a very good habit to develop either. The warmth from the water has easily overridden the admittedly limited caffeine from the tea, and as Tobirama gets them both re-dressed and her dirty clothes stashed in his room he strongly considers just saying ‘fuck it’ and collapsing back into bed. Only, he really does need to visit his cousin and brother. And the smiths are on the way. Ugh.
Well, it could have gone worse. Probably. Technically.
His armor has been dropped off, and the smiths didn’t even threaten him this time. And no, murderous glares don’t count unless there is also a physical or verbal aspect. Plus, Touka and Hashi were both at the infirmary; Touka for her own post-mission examination and Hashi for the updated supplies list. He was able to open the door, shout ‘not dead’, and then leave. Perfect.
Sprawled face-down across his bed, Tobirama very belatedly realizes that he just walked across half the compound with his spirit-child in his arms. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. . . . . . . . . . That’s tomorrow problem now. He’s too tired for this. Little hands tug on his hair, and he allow his head to lull to the side so that he can look at his baby.
“Sorry Sweetheart,” he half-slurs, his apologetic regret tinged with exhaustion. “Papa s’not very good company today.” She pats his face with a sense of loving, if inexperienced, care. /Silly Papa/ ripples over him like a wind-chime as she pushes and prods him until he flops over onto his side. Then she worms her way into his arms, cuddling up against him with her ear over his heart. /Nap time now/ she informs him, signature hearth-fire warmth tumbling over him as his cub does her absolute best to smother him. Tobirama goes absolutely boneless, eyes rolling from the overwhelming sensations as he promptly passes out.