Spear & Shield

Spear & Shield
Chapter 33

Yasu awoke the following morning to the loud screech of her alarm clock. She didn’t typically use this function of the device, having long since phased out the need for wake-up calls. However, she knew herself well enough to recognize the massive amount of exhaustion she was carrying.

Sure enough, the blaring siren alarm jolting her from a deep, dreamless sleep.

She flew up into a seated position, sending a startled Bao-chan flailing across her bedroom. Yasu groaned, arm sailing out to slam down on the snooze button with much more force than necessary. The clock was crushed beneath her fist, shattering at the edges. Yasu hardly noticed, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes in a poor attempt to will away her tiredness. Fatigued weighed like a second head on her shoulders, pulling her back down into her pillows. Days had finally caught up with her, and she found herself unable to bounce back as easily as she once could. 

With a great heave, she sat up once more.

Purely out of caution, she had set the alarm an hour before she actually needed to wake up. She was remiss to realize the sun wasn’t even up yet, tempting her all the more to lay back down and pretend she had no responsibilities today.

Instead, she rolled out of bed and got dressed. A decision she immediately regretted. 

It felt strange to leave her apartment without her shinobi clothes. She only wore the barest of armor underneath coveralls and Ushi haori. Her gloves weren’t plated or fitted. Rather, they were thick, made of soft leather to protect from the wear of her tools. Even her shoes felt too heavy and clunky. She found herself absently skimming her beltline, taking solace in feeling her storage pack, but having to ignore an initial bout of panic when she didn’t feel her kunai pouch. 

The early morning left Konoha's streets barren, casting Yasu in a veil of surreal eeriness. Alone and exhausted, she shuffled through the buildings, her eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

She shouldn't have gotten out of bed today.

Yasu trudged to the mountain, feeling not much like herself. For years she had been convinced she didn’t want to be a shinobi. She was one because she was born in a shinobi village and that's what people did.  She wanted to be a sculptor, an architect, a builder like her father. Because that's what she loved… She could create whole worlds out of the rawest of materials. She could change the very foundation of Konoha. She had the skill and the potential. She had the ideas too big for her drafting table. 

Being a shinobi had always seemed to just get in the way of that. 

And yet… 

Yasu fiddled with her hitai-ate, which was pushed to the crown of her head. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the house without it, despite knowing she had no use for it today. Like a habit she couldn't quite kick, something harmless but meaningful. It was a part of herself she wanted to give up on, but couldn't quite commit.

She found herself searching for the smell of ozone in the air, disappointment ringing through her lungs when she found none.

Sunrise brought with it a beautiful sky of dull pink and pale blue. Dew clung to the soles of her shoes as she walked soundlessly up the mountain. Descending onto the scaffolding and disappearing behind the privacy tarp her father had put up made her feel safe; like she was cocooned away in her own little world. A half-finished masterpiece hidden away for her eyes only. Tsunade’s stony face stared back at her, the details still blurred but her features taking shape. She traced a hand down her jagged cheek, sighing at the sheer amount of work ahead.

She still wished she had stayed in bed.

She retrieved her well-used storage scroll from her hip pack, ready to start the long day ahead.

“...Yasu-chan?” 

She froze, chakra petering out of her palm, her scroll flopping uselessly by her feet. 

The feeling of being naked without her usual armor and uniform rushed back to the surface. She felt as if she had been caught off-guard in battle, that split-second she realized she had left herself unguarded as a harsh attack headed her way. Out of pure reflex, her hand darted to her kunai pouch, only to remember she didn't bring it with her. 

“Are you down there?”

She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Her nervousness ebbed, just a bit. Slowly, carefully, with all the stealth she possessed, she crept up to the ledge. Her heart raced, hands trembling as she climbed the rocky surface. She recognized that voice. 

At the top of the cliff, she paused. A deep breath of morning air steadied her resolve. She needed to focus and gather herself. However, just as she was about to peek over the ledge, a head of silky black hair appeared directly in front of her.

Wide-eyed, Yasu came nose-to-nose with the one person she hadn’t been prepared to see that day.

She yelped in surprise. Her chakra faltered, sending her skidding a ways down the cliff.

A hand darted down, grabbing her wrist just before she slid out of reach. 

Yasu stared up at Gai’s face, dangling by her arm. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, brow furrowed with concern, eyes scanning down her frame.

Blush lit up her face at her slip up, and the sinking feeling of uncertainty overwhelmed her once more (it seemed to be a theme this morning). “Y-yeah,” she eventually nodded shakily, giving him a bashful smile, “You startled me. That’s all.”

Gods above, what was he doing here?! The sun's been up for a matter of minutes, and he appears! Couldn't he at least wait until after lunch?!

Her thoughts scattered as he carefully lifted her up with inhuman ease.

This had to be a mistake. Perhaps another coincidence of unfortunate fate. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. Her words weren’t put together yet, her thoughts still a nebulous solar storm in her mind. What was she going to say?! 

Seeing him here outweighed all of Gai's pervious ambushes. How had he known she'd never been as venerable as she was right then? A brilliant sneak-attack, if she'd ever seen one.

Yasu eventually found her footing, coming to stand before him with a bowed head, unable to meet his eyes.

Gai couldn't meet hers, either. His gaze darted off her left shoulder, beholding the colorful sunrise on the horizon. “...My apologies for bothering you at work,” he gulped, his shoulders too square and tense to be seen as apologetic.

Yasu hardly noticed his too-ridged posture, shrugging, “Technically, I haven’t started working yet.”

“Still… I understand this is a very important project. I only need a moment of your time.”

Yasu didn’t like how apologetic he sounded. She didn’t like the curtness that replaced his usual flourish words. “Here, let’s talk down there,” she gestured to the scaffolding. 

Being out in the open set her on edge. She wondered if it would be too awkward to ask Gai to spare her a shuriken or two. She didn’t need them, but they would make her feel better. 

She felt… exposed. And not just because of her outfit this time.

She should have stayed in bed today.

They walked down the lower tier of the scaffolding, where the tarp surrounded them entirely, shielding them away from prying eyes. Gai followed at her heels, almost as eager as she was to get out of the open area. 

She couldn't help but notice that he kept his eyes firmly at his feet, never looking directly at Tsunade's developing face. Part of her wanted him to glance over and see all her hard work, but her mouth was too dry to form such words. When they finally stopped, the two stood a ways apart, their respective heels resting on the edge of the wooden plank they stood on.

“Here, these are for you.”

Her vision was suddenly filled with the sight of bright red flowers as Gai procured a large bouquet seemingly out of nowhere. 

“...Thank you?” She took the bouquet tentatively, examining the simple arrangement and colorful paper. It was a perfect mix of buds and blooms with stems that poked out of the bottom, stiff like twigs. ‘Ah,’ she realized, ‘Camellias…’

She loved camellias. They were lush and bright and made for wonderful landscaping. Like an azalea, they were hardy yet beautiful. However, they required more care than your typical flowering tree, and should only be planted by those who would nurture it properly. When given the choice, Yasu more often than not suggested azaleas over camellias because they required less work. Still, camellias had an unparalleled beauty to them.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, clearing his throat sheepishly. “The other day, I…" his face twisted, trying to remain composed when distraught, "I made you uncomfortable. I am very sorry.”

His usual flowery prose was filtered and diluted through his melancholy, sounding stilted and strange to Yasu. But the sight of her running from him was seared into his memory, invoking a type of dread he didn’t know how to face. Despite his obvious discomfort, he tried anyway.

Yasu gawked at the man, eyes darting between him and the bouquet as her mind rushed like rapid waters. “No!” she cried too quickly, “I mean, no… You didn’t…”

He was apologizing? For something she did? He was apologizing for the kiss? 

‘Oh…’ she was struck with a thought. ‘Oh, no…’

He was just as embarrassed as she had been. Oddly enough, Yasu found this to be nearly as devastating as if he had been angry. Worse, even. At least she could confront anger. She could only sympathize with embarrassment.

Because embarrassment also meant shame. Shame for her, shame for what she had done.

She destroyed everything without even thinking about it. With one stupid kiss, she ended their friendship. In one fell swoop, she had cracked the façade of a something that could have been beautiful.

And all she got were these stupid flowers.

“...It’s fine,” she murmured quietly, the foreign feeling of tears pricking the back of her eyes.  “I’m, uhm, I’m sorry, too…”

A hole tore through Gai’s chest. He had come here with all intent to right whatever had fractured between them. To find out what it was that had her running from him the other day, and to never let it happen again. He had to force down the instinct to whisk her away into another one of his training regimens, something he so desperately missed. He missed rushing to avoid her quick blows, knowing each one he landed would be taken in stride. He wanted to chase after her once more, to be challenged to think two steps ahead so he could ensnare her once more. He could practically taste the adrenaline she made him feel as she met his every strike...

After the kiss, he began to question whether Yasu would ever train with him again.

In that moment, it felt as though the energy from their usual encounters had sunken, dispersed into the air, leaving nothing but a vacuum of stiff gracelessness between them. Like that first night, where he had nearly killed her with an errant attack, and they were strangers once more.

Gai wasn’t alone in his mournful loss of what could have been. It was over and done with so quickly, Yasu didn’t know what to think. It shouldn’t hurt like this, should it?

The illusion that anything in life was permanent had long been shattered and re-shattered for both Yasu and Gai. The knowledge that her entire village was in danger of crumbling around her had solidified that. But gods… She had hoped beyond hope that Gai wouldn’t be temporary.

She shouldn't have gotten out of bed today.

The paper wrapping crinkled in her tight grip, pulling her back out of her thoughts. Her eyes dropped to the flowers again. The thick, sweet fragrance of the camellias pulled forth a blurry memory of her kunoichi lessons. She recalled the heavy scent of flowers and reeds that filled the classroom as they learned ikebana at the Academy.  

Camellias were for passion, beauty, and youth. 

They were red, too, suggesting romance and hidden feelings. 

She wondered if he had even known their meaning when he picked the bouquet. People usually didn’t consider flower meanings when buying flowers. The average customer is thinking more about color coordination and their budget. Even though knowledge of flower meaning was fairly common in a shinobi village, only poets and hopeless romantics actually took note of them.

“Wait…”

 …This was Gai. The most poetically romantic jouinn in Konohagakure! On some level, he had to have known!

In a bout of delusion, she convinced herself to take Megumi's advice and say what she felt. Whether he chose the flowers consciously or not, she had to speak her mind.

“Actually? You know what? No.”

Gai’s head snapped up, confusion blossoming across his face, “No?”

“No. It’s not fine and I’m not sorry.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“No, you’re not sorry, either!” she snapped back, shaking her head, “Or maybe you are, I don’t know!”

“What?”

Yasu wasn’t entirely sure what she meant to say. She liked to think of herself as an intellectual who put thought into her words. But now her mind had been left behind and it was her heart’s turn to speak.

“I know it was weird, but I liked kissing you,” she was certain her face was glowing red, “I don’t regret it, and I’d do it again.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye, and honestly wasn’t sure if she ever would again. Still, she jutted her chin out in a challenging way, chest puffed with the last remnants of her dignity. Her hands trembled, betraying whatever airs she wore, the bark of the camellia branches cinching in her grip.

“Gai-sensei, I like you. I like what we have and I like spending time with you. Whether we're training or whatever, it doesn’t matter. I like you a lot and I want to have you around.”

Her words would have echoed through the mountains if it hadn't been for the tarp that concealed them. Instead, they rung out in the small space, overflowing with their larger meaning.

Shock slapped across his face.

Yasu kept going, unable to stop the waterfall of words that spewed from her mouth. “You’re important to me, and I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same way, but,” her confession was coming out as a rambling mess, yet she powered through, “I wanted to kiss you. If I don’t tell you that now, I never will. So I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry.”

Gai stood perfectly still, staring at her in a way that made her feel like a circus attraction. 

‘Oh gods,’ she thought, panic taking hold of her bleeding heart once more. ‘What have I done?!’

Awkwardness sat thick and heavy in the space between them, each standing much too still and much too silent...

Maybe she had thought too much into the flowers after all.

‘Say something,’ she begged, ‘Just say something!’

Her blood pumped at an unhealthy speed. She couldn’t fill her lungs no matter how deeply she breathed, resulting in a short, panicked pant. That painful sort of anxiety clawed its way back into her chest, making her dizzy. 

Yet Gai still didn’t respond. He stood frozen and shell-shocked, processing her words with as much care as his brain could manage. He saw no hint of deceit in her eyes, her voice full of messy earnestness that couldn’t be faked. He didn’t feel in control of himself as he listened to the very words he had been so desperate to hear.

He screamed internally, begging his body to just move. 

Yasu’s eyes dropped, acceptance of her grief finally taking hold. ‘This was a mistake…’ she thought, staring down at the vermillion petals in her hand. ‘This whole thing was a mistake.' 

She shouldn't have gotten out of bed today.

The second her eyes dropped in defeat, Gai sprung to action.

With invisible speed, he took her in his arms. Yasu gasped, dropping the bouquet. It bounced off the scaffolding, forgotten as it tumbled down the mountainside. She was pulled tightly against his chest, feeling warm and complete for the first time that morning. When their lips touched, it was as if the world sang around them. He descended upon her hungrily, anchoring one hand to the back of her neck, the other settling into the curve of her waist. 

Yasu’s body reacted before her mind, her arms arcing up to wrap tightly around his neck, pulling him deeper into their kiss. She stood on her toes, practically falling into him, pouring everything she had into that one moment. 

“Eh?” a small voice was heard from above, “Is that you down there, Yasu?”

Abruptly, Yasu pulled back, fear evident across her face. Too dazed by the kiss, Gai barely registered the feeling of her fisting the front of his flak jacket. All he could think about was the pleasant tingle on his lips as she flung him off the scaffolding. He couldn’t help but notice how she looked so very pretty right then, as he plummeted hundreds of meters towards the ground.

“‘Morning!” she greeted her father with fake cheer. “I’m getting an early start today.”

“That’s my girl!” Yasuchika beamed down at her with a chuckle, heaving himself down to the top level of the scaffolding, “I thought someone was down there with you! Figured I caught some vandal trying to ruin our hard work.”

“Nope!” she chuckled back nervously, “Just me.”

She kept her smile stricken on her face as she dared to glance down. 

Thankfully, there was no splattered corpse on the ground below.

Instead, Gai stood beneath her, parallel to the ground, staring up at her with a rather miffed expression.

‘Sorry!’ she signed with her hand, not trusting her voice. ‘Status?’

Her anxious expression and obvious concern was too cute for him to stay mad at her for long. Even having been thrown off the side of a mountain, Gai still found her quirks endearing. ‘Safe. Not injured,’ he signed back with a soft smile.

‘Affirmative,’ she sighed with relief, pretending to shift through tools as she asked, ‘Recon?’ The movement was quick but lacked sharpness, ‘Tonight?’

Gai’s heart fluttered as he grinned up at the flushed kunoichi, ‘Seven o’ clock?’

The sun was due to set at six-thirty. Knowing that would allow her plenty of time for her father to leave and for her to clean up for the day, she nodded. Yasu hardly felt the ache growing in her cheeks as she beamed down at him. All she saw was how Gai grinned back before disappearing in a quick flicker. 

Her cheeks continued to ache with a smile as she began the job before her, cutting into the rocky cliff face once more. 

“Huh?” her father’s voice carried beneath the sheet. “What’re these doing here?”

Yasu followed her father's line of sight, finding a bright red bouquet sitting just at the edge of the scaffolding. She bit her lip to fight down a hysterically girly giggle. She ducked her head, only raising her voice slightly to call back to her father, “Someone must have left them last night. Maybe one of Tsunade-sama’s many admirers.”

It was a decent lie, one the Ushi patriarch was eager to believe.

“Hah!” her father barked a laugh, retrieving the flowers and regarding them with a fondness. He carefully tucked the camellias into one of the hand rails, securing them so they stood upright. Yasuchika stroked the hairs on his chin, “Yare-yare... Camellias, huh? Poor sap must really be in love!” 

Yasu’s breath caught and her stomach flipped.

“Can you blame them? She’s the most beautiful face in all of Konoha, after all!” her father guffawed, smacking Tsunade's nose.

Yasu's chisel struck the rock a little too harshly, causing a thick chunk of stone to clatter loudly down the side of the mountain. “Dad, you’re married.”

The silence that passed was like a breath of fresh air to the flustered kunoichi. 

“Don’t tell your mother."

Yasu laughed, clear and genuine, "I won't."

She was so glad she got out of bed today.