Spear & Shield

Spear & Shield
Chapter 48

They were holding hands. 

In public.

Yasu glanced over her shoulder for the dozenth time as Gai happily jabbered about fresh veggies, proper marinating techniques, and spice to herb ratios. 

She felt so open here, in the middle of the street, walking with Gai, while holding hands . 

Yasu almost felt like they were somehow making a statement. Because it was clear to every stranger they passed: they were a couple.

Of course, all of those strangers were passively ignoring them, completely unbothered by the notion of two shinobi showing bare-minimum PDA. They were too busy living their own lives to even offer a passing thought to the pair. Despite Yasu's paranoia, they really weren’t noteworthy, and literally no one cared.

But that didn’t calm Yasu’s beating heart. It didn’t waiver the peachy stain on her cheeks or the butterflies in her stomach. 

Her paranoia mainly stemmed from the idea of bumping into another Ushi as they meandered through the crowded street market. Statistically speaking, she was likely to run into a immediate family members at least once per day. And while that wasn’t as likely as it was for a Nara to run into another Nara, or even a Hyuuga to meet another Hyuuga, it was still a chance she wasn’t quite ready to take. The rest of her paranoia came from the fact that she was almost certain they were being followed. Then again, the goosebumps running up her arms were also a common side effect of being around Gai.

There was something about them being so public with their relationship that both thrilled and worried her. 

“I’m thinking chicken…” Gai mumbled absently, peering into the window of the village’s butcher shop. 

Yasu’s brain didn’t work well around Gai. It was something she would just have to come to terms with. She found herself to be a bit more impulsive and just a smidge more absent-minded. And while it was certainly nice being around Gai, Yasu was beginning to realize just how dangerous it was, too. 

Which is how she found herself in the very precarious situation of being invited back to his apartment for a late dinner. 

"I’ll cook for you!” he had grinned at her in a way that made it impossible for her to say no. 

All she had said was that she would probably end up getting take-out tonight because Jiro's appetite had diminished most of her pantry.

Any normal person would have been indifferent to her trivial dilemma. A normal person would have shrugged and moved on with the conversation. A normal person would have suggested a good yet affordable restaurant that she could patron, and then left it at that. 

But Gai was no normal person.

“Unacceptable,” he declared, already  swooping for her hand and dragging her along. “There is nothing more nourishing than a home-cooked meal! No student of mine will go without proper nutrition."

And who was she to argue with that?

Their trip to the market had been quick. Yasu was grateful, and felt a wave of relief when they reached Gai's apartment without a wild Ushi encounter. 

A new type of anticipation took her. She always loved being invited into people's homes. One's home spoke so much to one's true self. And while she thought by know she knew Gai pretty well, this was still a detail she was thrilled to learn. Gai was similarly buzzing with excitement as he unlocked the door, listing off the steps of the recipe he had in mind with perfect detail.

"We'll start the rice first so it will be done with our curry."

The door swung open to a very modest shinobi apartment. Yasu noted it was only one room. Just a couch and table with a little kitchenette off to the side. Everything was neat and very clean with a cozy feel to it. Yasu found herself immediately comforted and welcomed by his homely furniture and the photographs that decorated the walls. A tiny potted plat sat in the only window above the kitchen sink next to a tiny ceramic turtle. Gai's futon was neatly rolled and stored against the wall, next to a row of dumbbells, organized by weight. The couch had a slight excess of pillows, with a mis-matched pile of floor cushions stacked next to it, making her wonder if he entertained often.

'Probably thekids,' she reasoned, easily picturing them gathered around his low table for dinner.

"The chicken can sit in the seasonings until we add it to the pan."

'It smells nice, too...' Probably because it smelled like Gai.

He stepped inside, heading straight to the counter to put down the groceries, "I like to use turmeric. Not only is it delicious, but it has tons of health benefits." 

'Is his closet just full of jumpsuits...?' Yasu followed him in, 'The paint color is nice, too. Kind of rustic--'

She stopped short with only one foot through the door.

'Oh no.'

"Do you like spicy curry? I tend to add a lot of chilis in my recipe."

"Gai," Yasu chirped, still frozen in the threshold.

"We always make a separate batch."

"Gai."

"Or add the spices to my portion after it's served."

"Gai."

"Should I use potatoes? Or would you prefer carrots?"

"Gai!"

"Yes, My Azalea?" he beamed, spinning to face her. His smile dropped when he noticed her distressed expression. "What's wrong?"

"I… I can't come in."

"Why not?" he frowned, approaching her as if approaching a stray cat, "I deactivated my traps. What's the matter?"

Yasu's cheeks grew hot, "Your, uhm… Your floor is crooked."

Gai’s eyes shot down to the neat wooden planks beneath his slippered feet. “What?”

Yasu sighed, equal parts embarrassed at her over-reaction to such a small flaw, and appalled that such a floor existed within her village-- let alone in her boyfriend’s apartment. She pursed her lips as she fished out a particularly round potato from her grocery bag, and gently placed it on the ground.

Without any prodding on her end, the potato slowly began to roll to the left. Gai watched in silence at the potato toddled along the wood planks until it came to gently rest against the largest of Gai’s dumbbells.

The pair were cloaked in silence. Yasu watched the gears turn in Gai’s mind, knowing he was piecing this conundrum together by staring unblinkingly at his collection of weights and a root vegetable. After a minute or two, he nodded to himself. It finally clicked that his over-the-top training practices had undoubtable caused (or at least worsened) the apartment floor. “This bothers you,” he stated, finally turning back to her. "...Because you're 'Yasu?'"

For a moment, she forgot about his atrocious floor to deadpan at his ridiculous pun. 

She hated seeing him frown at her like that. ‘Stop being rude,’ she scolded herself. Yasu shrugged as nonchalantly as she could, forcing herself to put her other foot in the apartment, “I mean… No! No, it’s fine. It’s fine, really.” Leaning to the right seemed to help a bit, but she couldn’t convince her brain to ignore it. “It’s fine,” she toed on his pair of guest slippers before shuffling deeper in the apartment, “It’s fine.” She had to keep shuffling and shifting. Standing still made it worse. “It’s fine.”

Two arms suddenly wrapped around her, lifting her clean off the crooked floor. Her head barely missed the ceiling as Gai swung her in his arms to hold her bridal-style. “Better?” he grinned down at her, their noses nearly touching.

She could barely speak, she was blushing so hard, “Y-yeah. Better.” All of a sudden, the fog in her brain had nothing to do with the floors.  “B-but you can’t exactly make curry while holding me.”

“Is that a challenge to my dexterity?” he asked, raising a brow. 

Despite herself, Yasu laughed, “No, it’s not. I have full confidence in your dexterity. But my mother would literally kill me if I didn’t at least help you cook.”

He reluctantly set her back down, but kept a hand hovering at the small of her back, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Yasu scuttled a little more, “I have an idea…” She shuffled over to the threshold again, kicking off a single slipper before carefully walking backwards to join him again by the kitchenette. “See? Easy fix!”

Gai smiled down at her with a more gentle fondness than she was used to seeing from him. He handled her with such care as he took her bag of groceries and placed them on his small counter. “An innovative solution, my clever student! I thought you were about to offer your services to fix it.”

“Don’t be silly, I still plan on fixing it. I've already drafted a five-step process of re-leveling your apartment. But in order to install the concrete reinforcement-- which you clearly require-- I’d need to take all your furniture out and rip up the floorboards.”

Gai pulled out a cutting board and knives, placing it beside her as she began washing vegetables. “I could always stay at your place,” he offered cheekily, bumping his hip into hers and delighting in the shade of pink that bloomed across her face. 

Yasu had yet to acclimate to how forward Gai could be when they were alone. It seemed like any uncertainties he had before had vanished once the word “boyfriend” had been confirmed. Not that he still wasn’t his usual theatrical self, but she noticed how quickly he dropped into this new (and dare she say ‘suave’ ) role. Yasu hadn’t quite gotten to that point.

“I’d invite you,” she tried to sound casual, but only ended up snapping a carrot in half from gripping it too hard, “But my apartment is currently occupied by a destitute older brother and an ornery cat.”

“Oh? Which brother is this?”

“Jiro,” she held up two fingers to clarify. 

“Hmm,” Gai nodded, clicking on the stove burner. “I could always stay with Kakashi!”

"I'm sure he'd love that."

Their conversation faded to other topics. Yasu talked more about her brothers and how annoying it was living with one again, Gai talked about a new technique he was working on with Lee to help compensate his new limitations. Eventually their comfortable chatter faded as they focused on cooking.

Yasu kept her eyes focused on the knife in her hand, but her mind was everywhere else. 

The meager kitchenette was tiny to begin with, but with two people occupying it, it was suffocating. And while Yasu was certainly breathless, the cramped space was not to blame.

Gai was humming softly under his breath, happily stirring the little pot with a contentedness that made her heart glow warm. There was something about the domestic setting that really did it for her. 

She had always believed romantic relationships to be full of passion and fire. But there was none of that in Gai’s tiny little kitchen. They were intimately close, brushing against one another with every move they made. Circling one another like a tangled rope, weaving and bobbing as they prepared their curry. At first, they had apologized to one another, making excuses every time they touched, but soon abandoned that fruitless endeavor. Neither of them really minded the tight space. There was a special kind of heat between them. It wasn’t fiery, but it was warm. Yasu couldn’t get enough.

The ricecooker was ticking away on the counter and their curry was left to simmer on the stove. Yasu washed her hands at the sink as Gai pulled down a few mis-matched dishes for them. She leant back into his warmth, leaning gently against the hard muscles of Gai’s chest. 

He hummed his approval, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

Yasu was always a bit surprised by just how solid Gai was. He was made of pure muscle, through and through, almost feeling like a marble statue when she touched him. 

But he was always warm, too, radiating a natural heat she found comfort in. 

He squeezed her middle and kissed her cheek before the ricecooker dinged. She took a moment to study his features as he plated their meals. She loved seeing him like this. Relaxed. Happy. Carefree. Yasu recalled a time, not long ago, where she couldn't let her guard down around him. Yet here they were, wrapped in content silence and merely enjoying one another's company.

She loved his high cheekbones and prominent nose. She loved his busy brows and expressive eyes. She loved his lumbering height and broad shoulders. But most of all, she loved his smile. She loved his small, content smiles, to his deadly smirks and beaming grins. She adored his unique features in a way that was hard to describe. 

It was like trying to explain your favorite sweet. Why is it your favorite? It just is.

"I think I added too much chili…" Gai noted mostly to himself as he handed her a plate. "But I had two that were beginning to wrinkle. They'll be out of season soon, and I couldn't just let them go to waste."

Yasu didn't care that Gai had put three entire chili peppers into their two-person serving. He could have handed her a plate of rotten scraps, and she still would have eaten the whole thing.

"The salt is a special type of flakey salt that is only found in the Land of Bears…"

For the briefest of moments, just a flicker of a heartbeat, she felt the need to speak a word she's been thinking about for a while now. It zipped through her head like a static shock, just a butterfly kiss on her tongue. Simply a fleeting urge that vanished once she realized it was there. 

Yasu didn’t say it then. She let the words die in the back of her throat, keeping her mouth lightly shut to hide the urge to speak. Instead, she just nodded along to Gai’s narrated tour of his spice rack. It was easy for her to stay quiet as he blabbered on about his unique blends and inventive use of sesame oil. She could just nod and smile and merely listen. 

‘I love you.’

She didn’t say it, but she thought about it.

She thought about it more when Gai offered her an extra cushion to sit on so she can prop herself up against the incline. She thought about it more when she made him laugh so hard that he choked on a piece of chicken. She thought about it one more time when she realized her and Gai had the exact same process for washing and organizing their dishes (though it was obvious Gai did it more often than Yasu did).

The word flickered through her mind again when she realized it was now well past her typical bedtime, despite the night passing by rather quickly. Her thoughts were foggy at that point, so she wasn't sure if she thought about it again as she lazily slumped against Gai on his tiny couch. The words passed between them were slow and quiet as both of their eyes drifted shut.

The last of her mental efforts were arguing with her that she should probably get home to her own bed. But Gai's warmth and the feeling of his hand gently running up and down her back won that argument. 

She didn't think about it as her breathing slowed and sleep overtook her. She didn't have to think about it. She felt it.