Tea, Taijustsu, Three Feet
"Oh, God," Naruto groaned. "I feel like death warmed over."
The moment feeling returned to his arms and legs, his eyes snapped open. Where was he?
He leant back into his thick pillow. Oh, bed.
His next semi-coherent thought was: I don’t want to get out. He wanted to stay there until the sun went out or Sasuke finally grew the balls to say "I love you" to his wife.
Or Sakura wasn't so damn violent.
He snuggled his designated chest pillow closer to his body.
Getting up was for losers, assholes, and insufferable morning people. In other words, not him. He didn’t care that people always associated him with light and daytime. Must be the hair. He liked to sleep in like most civilized people, thank you very much.
He lifted his left hand to check the integrity of his shield of blankets and pillows--the fort, Hinata had called it--and attempted to drift off again.
Not happening, huh?
Try as he might though, luck was not on his side: his head was starting to pound, it was getting hot underneath the blanket and he was awake no matter what he did now (damn it).
He lowered his warm, thick, fluffy bed-based face shield, turned on his side and cracked open an eye.
The window was dark.
Heck, the sun wasn't even up.
What the fuck actually woke him? He rubbed his stomach absentmindedly.
Oh.
He remembered. His bandaged right hand pulled down his shirt to cover his exposed middle.
The anticipation of a sneak attack.
Boruto usually ran full force through the door at just about this hour and would attempt to make him into his impromptu trampoline. He had never told him off (his son would typically say something along the lines of "You sleep like the dead, Tou-san! It's a pain! MAMA SAID BREAKFAST IS READY AND THAT'S THE THIRD TIME!!!). He was wondering why he was being spared the honor today.
Was it that early or had his son finally given him a break?
"He's just outside the door, anata. I told him to let your tummy rest for one day."
Holy shittt. Naruto all but surrendered the ghost and shot around to his right.
Hinata sat on the corner of their bed, an apron on, carrying a mug of something steaming.
"Ah. Hello?" It was the only real coherent thought that came to mind as he willed his heart rate to go back to normal. “Yeah. Um. My, uh, abs? They appreciate it. Really.”
She smiled, eyes dazzling. "I thought I'd try and be the one to wake you today. How are you feeling?"
“Not bad.”
Hinata frowned, eyes filling with concern. "Why did you suddenly go pale?"
Naruto returned the smile, but on the inside... "Nothing. It was nothing." He chuckled.
If he was being honest with himself, there were times when his sweet, sensible wife scared him. She could be so quiet and stealthy as hell. He didn't know if that was because she was a Hyuuga or his wife or because women were in a whole other class of being on their own. Was that a secret bloodline limit nobody told him about? It was baffling.
No use worrying this early. He had a village to run, and guests to welcome.
He put his feet on the ground and stood up to stretch. But his mind, which always tended to wander, pondered the enigma that was her.
Maybe both. Maybe his whole family was out to get him. Except for Himawari; she was the gentlest, most innocent little flower. He was safe with her at least.
Then he suddenly remembered the day he became Hokage and how that went.
Scratch that with a kunai.
Hinata gave him a questioning look.
He suddenly understood one thing:
His family was dangerous. He had his own little army as Dad, and they could be mobilized if they thought the leader of Konoha was pissing them off? Oh, kami, tasukete.
But he wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t catch a break. But love is love, still.
"I'm fine. I promise." Naruto walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down. He bent down and gently kissed Hinata on the forehead. "Good morning."
"Ohayou gozaimasu, anata." She whispered back softly in reply. "Did you sleep well?"
"Thanks to you, I did." He broke away and pointed at the mug in her hands. "Is that coffee?"
Hinata extended it to him. "Green tea. After last night's scare, I decided that this would be a safer option to wake you up."
Naruto took the mug and inhaled the gentle, refreshing scent. "I agree." He took a sip. He stopped in surprise. "A bit of sugar?"
"Honey. I thought you might want something sweet instead. It's not the kick of caffeine, or the sweetness you usually take, but the taste might be...pleasing."
A familiar warmth spread across Naruto's cheeks and he gazed into the surface of the tea before nodding.
When he looked up, Hinata was looking rather red as well. She kissed him and he chuckled. "It is."
His family, his world, his stronghold.
Hinata stood up with well-practiced ease, tucked a lock of hair beneath one ear, and opened the door.
Boruto almost fell into the room. "Oh, kami, ew."
And true to his name, he bolted out of sight.
Naruto laughed and took Hinata's hand, leading her through the doorway. "You're wicked."
Hinata said nothing, but her eyes looked suspiciously bright. She squeezed his hand instead. "You've got a guest downstairs."
"Pretty sure I told Sasuke to come by a few hours from now."
"You'll see."
The guest, it turned out, was not a person, but a--was it an animal or a thing? Naruto wasn't sure what to call Sai's technique.
An inky bird (it was made of ink after all) was perched on one of the chairs at the breakfast table. He nodded at it, and it burst into a scroll, which he then unrolled. Naruto skimmed the text.
The head of the Anbu was eagle-eyed as always. Gaara's delegation was nearing Konoha, and the masked shinobi were keeping a close watch at the village entrance and across strategic areas in proximity to it.
Well done, Sai.
He snapped his fingers, and the scroll went blank. He channelled his chakra into two fingers and the scroll vibrated. He wrote back:
Good job. Alert Level III-No man, woman or child from Konoha is to exit the village. He smiled. Continue to ensure the safety of the Suna party. Keep me posted every thirty minutes. Thanks, Sai.
Words sprang up on the paper as though written with a hot poker. He snapped his fingers again, and the scroll morphed into a bird again before soaring out of the kitchen window.
Naruto drew his chair back and sat down. He picked up his chopsticks and sighed.
Cup ramen was great, and Ichiraku's was even better, but home-cooked meals were the best. He took his time, savouring the fish that had been grilled to perfection, dipping it in a little shio, before taking some gohan and enjoying each mouthful.
Hinata sat down opposite to him. "You've always liked saba."
"Hard not to. I'm glad our family chef is always on point." Naruto smiled fondly and put his bowl out.
"Silly." She walked over to the rice cooker, opened it with a click, and began ladling some steaming shiro into the bowl before setting it in front of him. "I'm glad you have a good appetite today."
"Haha, I guess you’re right.” He stretched his neck to one side and held before releasing. “Need to load up, it's going to be a long day. I don't think I'll be back before nine in the evening, at the very least."
He frowned.
"Will you be okay?"
He looked at her searchingly, then started shovelling food into his mouth; he couldn't waste any more time at the table, he had to shower, get to the office and look over the revisions Shikamaru had made to his speech. He would really like to meet Gaara at the gate if he could get everything else out of the way prior to the meeting with Suna.
Hinata pushed a small bowl of fruit towards him. “You needn’t worry.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “We’ll be fine.”
“To borrow Sasuke’s words: My wife is more than capable. I don’t worry.” He smiled once more. “I just care. Hokage or no, I’m husband and father. First. Or maybe second. Boruto would probably hate me if he heard me say—er, either one though.”
Hinata broke into a laugh. "I'll take care of the kids. Just don't overexert yourself."
For a split second, her eyebrows creased with worry, but soon relaxed. "Please come home in one piece today. And you know this but...always."
Naruto stood up and brought his dishes to the sink. "Heard." He smiled. "Shinpaishinaide, love. I'll see you later." This time, he kissed her on the cheek. “It’s all possible because I have such a capable partner.”
Shower done, haori on and hat in hand, Naruto made a beeline for the front door. Himawari was still asleep and he decided against kissing her on the forehead, instead, cupping her cheek affectionately before closing her bedroom door quietly behind him.
The kitchen clock read 7:45am. He had more than enough time to get to the office; Shikamaru would not chew him up and spit him out, no, not today.
He put his hand on the doorknob. Oh God, he’d have to Drink. A Lot. Today. He liked sake well enough, but he didn’t hold his liquor well. He remembered the last time Shikamaru, Kiba and the rest of the guys had to haul his ass back home.
But he would have to. Kage duties and all.
Kami. He might have looked like he was having the time of his life (redder than blood itself), babbling and relaxed, but no, he didn’t like to toss one back. The hangover that followed each binge? Big, fat IIE to that.
He breathed in deeply and took a step forward—when the front door swung backward into him and hit him square in the forehead. He swore colorfully, dropping his hat.
"What's the rush, dobe?"
He swore again and stepped back, allowing the door to open some more. "Fuck you. Eh? Teme, that you? Ever heard of knocking?”
"I told you, I don't swing that way. It's a little early for some couch magic, don't you think? I wonder what the council would think if they found out that the Nanadaime was such a perv."
“You’re such an ass, fuck. I already hurt my head yesterday, why do you have to give me another whack up high? Oh God, I think I broke something.”
“Big baby.”
Naruto grabbed the doorknob and wrenched the door fully open. "No, really, fuck you." He rubbed his forehead, hissing at the pain coming from another injury to his head. "What the fuck is 'couch magic,' you reprobate? I didn't know you could be so disgusting."
Sasuke cocked an eyebrow at him. "You swear like a well, fuck-er and have two kids, and you're asking me that?"
Naruto sighed. "I already have only half the brain cells of a normal person. I'd like to keep them intact, please, Couch-Magic-Sama."
Sasuke stepped into the doorway and looked him up and down. "Well that's entirely debatable, but you get a pass today, prude."
Naruto scowled at him. "Your attitude still stinks after all these years. I wonder how Sakura puts up with you. You can't be that good in bed."
Sasuke looked bored.
Ah, the distinct Uchiha Deadpan.
The look read: "Well, it happened more on the floor than the couch, to be honest...
But when Sasuke talked once more, there was a distinct purr in his voice. “I wish I could share all of the Forbidden Techniques of the world with you, Hokage-kun.”
He flicked his eyes up to meet Naruto's. Sasuke smirked.
The hokage was slackjawed. “Seriously? Oh god, ew. Stoppppp. Sakura-chan, oh god, you married a sex maniac. Do you really have no shame?”
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sasuke deepened his gaze, staring straight into what felt like Naruto and Kurama's special place.
Naruto was starting to sweat at an impressive rate, but Sasuke liked toying with his baka na tomo. “Not going to pass out again, are we?"
Naruto partially recovered. "I'm not worried."
“Nanda?”
It was Naruto’s turn to waggle his eyebrows. "Not at all."
"Heaven forgive me, I might just kill the fucking Hokage. Don’t give me more work to do, usuratonkachi. This country doesn’t even pay me for half the CRAP I deal with."
"I fuck as much as anyone, making me The Fucking Hokage indeed. But fucked Hokage is what I'll be if Hinata hears about all this shit." Naruto supplied, shaking his head. "Like if you let my head crack on the pavement and all, in addition to last night and just ten seconds ago. I'll be fucked times three."
"Not by me. Maybe Hinata can...?”
“Like I said ten times today: fuck you.”
“I wish I could fuck you too, blondie.”
Naruto shuddered.
“You ready?" Sasuke picked up his hat and gave it to his friend.
"Yeah. And you're fifteen minutes too early."
"I come at the right time."
"Shit, my ears!"
"You started it, usuratonkachi. Don't bite off more than you can chew."
"Fucking asshole, you're chipper today. The fuck are you on? Did Sakura and you--oh hell, it was your anniversary yesterday." It all clicked.
Naruto's eyes bugged out of his head. "You got some."
Sasuke straightened up, but his face remained impassive.
He knew when he was beaten, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the idiot start his day knowing that, he'd be hyper, proud and look more annoying than usual. Not that he really actually minded, but this was a matter of being consistent--cool and unflappable at all times. Uchihas had a reputation they had to protect after all.
Naruto'd have sake later at the banquet for Suna so there was no use in making him happy so early on in the day. It gave him the shudders. But he had more self control that this ass wart.
"My condolences to Hinata."
"Hey!"
He held out a hand. Black flame shot out of his palm. “I can also give you some—shit—if you want it. Definitely some of this for sure."
All the same, Sasuke looked suspiciously bright in the face...
Naruto fitted his hat on his head and chuckled. "Don't blush, teme. I have a thing for peaches."
"Oh kami, protect my ass."
"Don't give the Hokage any ideas then."
“Ikimashou, moron.”
Shikamaru was not having a very good day. Then again, he hadn’t had a good day in five weeks, but yeah, he had to stick to the topic here.
Temari had launched into all-out war when he got home last night (he had forgotten to buy some special tofu as had been ordered, er, requested), leading to equal amounts of shouting, fan-swatting and passive-aggressive door banging.
Never mind he was late because of work stuff. You know, that thing he did 24/7 for hokage and village.
He did try his best to get a word in, but all he got instead was a ceramic cooking pot thrown in his direction, narrowly missing the shoji screen. The ensuing spill, however, meant he had to clean the floor or risk a greater wrath that that of Kaguya and Madara combined.
Shikadai had peered out of his room at one point, looking all "mendokusai, here we go again," but this time, there was a sprinkle of "shit, scary stuff, Self-Preservation Mode ACTIVATE" and Shikamaru watched as the lucky little shit slid out of view and back into the safe comfort of his room.
He breathed heavily through his nose as he blotted the tatami. He would have words with his son very soon. If there was anything he learned in shogi, it was that pieces got promoted for pushing forward, not abandoning the game.
It was about time Shikamaru taught him about the difference between frontal attacks—and scaling the board. Shikadai would benefit from learning when to play a long game.
And when to be loyal.
Being a parent was something valuable to him, but damn, was it a pain. At times.
Back to Temari and the Tofu Terror of Yesternight.
While he was glad that Temari had not bolted their room shut come time for him to retire after having his mind and heart go seven for six rounds in Naruto’s office not too long before that, she had instead been very clear about how she felt about the whole situation:
She kicked him about three times in her sleep (that he could count) giving him brilliant purple bruises on his left thigh, behind, and lower back.
After having to be on the receiving end of such vicious taijutsu, he got up and decided he would a better chance of sleep in the living room instead. The tatami would be good for his spine.
Which it was. For the most part. It was just a little too cold; he couldn't risk moving Temari's leg to release his blanket--it was wrapped around it so securely that he knew his wife just wasn't going to, ah, let anything go today. So yeah, what a cold ass night it has been.
When morning came, he slipped out of the house (damn, he wanted to smoke, but wouldn't, the taste was shit, he didn’t want to think of Azuma and not be able to disengage from that and the most important thing, Temari would attempt to murder him for if she smelled it on his clothes or within house limits).
So instead, he walked to the center of town and trudged up to the only place that seemed to be open at the crack of crazy.
"I can’t believe you. Who comes here at this hour. Like really."
"Says you, who comes here. I would say good morning, but I don’t think there’s much of the good in yours right now.”
“Yeah, well...”
“You're here for couples therapy. Again. Good way to start the day, huh?"
Shikamaru rubbed his face. "Fuck my life."
Ino gave him a look not unlike that of a kitsune. "Ohayou to you too, Shika. What did you do this time?" She fished some brilliant carnations out of one of the buckets on a side counter and started to arrange them. "Did you forget to complement her cooking again? It's not like you to be un-smart."
He blinked, feeling worn. His back twinged with guilt and anxiety. There was no other way around it.
Ino fiddled with a stem and waited.
He sighed. "I forgot the tofu."
Ino gave him an inquiring look, busying her hands like a pro.
"I had...an unexpected setback at work. Took me ages to get home." He scratched his cheek with a finger and watched a cat slink around some garbage cans across the store. "I hate it when she gets all worked up like that."
"Did you at least try and tell her why?"
"Does that actually work when your wife just wants to kill you?"
"Hmm. Let's see. Sai honey?"
The curtain separating the store from the entryway to their home drew to one side.
Anemic but looking well enough to stand, Sai searched for Ino’s voice, his expression soft, before seeing Shikamaru standing just outside the shop counter.
“Hello, Nara.”
“Ah. Yeah.”
Sai drew closer to the two. He brushed the top of Ino's head with an equally bloodless hand before taking her by the cheek and giving her a deep kiss.
Shikamaru started (his eyebrows were too fast, even for his mind) but held it in: The man was bold, damn.
"Is everything all right?”
“Hmm.”
Hovering over Ino’s lips, Sai gazed into Ino’s eyes before and grinned. “Is your wife happy with you as her husband?"
Shikamaru almost choked on his own saliva. He couldn’t help it. "What sort of question is that?"
Ino turned to Shika, looking to translate what her husband had just said. "He was wondering if being nice works on me when I'm mad at you."
Sai’s relaxed look morphed into something weird (he looked stonily from his beautiful, blonde wife to Shikamaru), before his face smoothened into porcelain once more. "She never gets mad at me. She's my tenshi.” He nibbled at her ear. “Aren't you, angel?"
Shikamaru summoned all his chakra and wrenched his eyes away from the two, especially the cat in heat before him. He fixed his eyes determinedly on a spot on the wall. “Jesus, why not just say that. You’re so vague. You’ll send people to an early grave.”
Shikamaru shook his head and leant against the counter heavily.
He really needed that cigarette.
“If I did, and you went to...hell, isn't that right, since you don't believe in heaven, that would probably be helping your wife to not have a hemorrhage, isn’t that correct? You have a brilliant mind, Nara, how come you don’t use all of it?”
Shikamaru’s eyes descended to look Hell straight in the face. He studied him carefully. "Guess I've got my answer."
"Try and be a husband, Nara. It works for me."
"Yeah, sure, mendokusai. I got to go. Need to"--and he gave Ino a look that was both nervous and committed to the storm before changing his mind--"make up with her."
"I'll put in on your tab." Ino said dreamily.
"It's a long one. Thanks." Shikamaru turned away.
He turned back for a split second. "You're playing a good game, Sai."
Sai nodded with a truly breathtaking smile.
Shikamaru categorized this as his axe-killer version; he had a hundred and four types, almost certainly but not quite patented to his name and each one was a mystery, a pain in the ass to decode, and an ever bigger pain in the ass to look at. He didn’t want to deal with Anbu Shit when he didn’t have to, and certainly not when it came to this hen—
"I wasn’t aware there was a game?" Sai suggested mildly.
Shikamaru hastily agreed, not wanting to stay any longer than he did. “Yeah. You’re right. My bad.”
Sai placed an arm around Ino’s shoulders. “Don’t play games with your wife, Nara. I won’t come to the funeral of any fool. My wife,” and he beamed at Ino, “wouldn’t like it.”
“Sure, whatever.” Shikamaru nodded over his shoulder before looking at Ino. “Thanks.”
As Sai watched Nara trudge away round-shouldered, he delicately nudged something underneath the counter with his foot. The cover read: "Ten Steps to Emotional Intelligence: Happy Wife, Happy Life."
Sai smiled.
He was happy. Truly. But his face probably wouldn’t look it. Ino always told him to practice using his facial muscles more. According to her, he always looked like he was about to either kill something or that he was battling with the worst constipation in the world during a diplomatic consultation. Ino had been so worried that one time that she left a roll of toilet paper conspicuously outside his study. The note in the kitchen said she would be out to go to the market and then do some other errands. Be back soon.
Which meant indefinitely.
That same day, he flew over to the library on the back of one of his birds and loaned a few books from the Psychology and Personal Development sections.
“We should probably get breakfast.” Ino whispered. “Are you done with work for the time being?”
“Kept Naruto in the loop.”
“Call him Hokage, love. Although he is Naruto. You are the Head of Anbu after all.”
“Sure.” Sai turned to his wife. “What was he like? Naruto, as a kid?”
“Couldn’t tell you much. You know most of the story already. When we became genin, I saw him around Sasuke and Sakura a lot, but that mostly because they were all on Team 7.
Turns out, Sasuke and Naruto knew each other way before that time. They crossed paths when they were really young.”
“And how do you know this?” Sai gave her an appraising look.
Ino put her hands on her hips, but she looked equally parts challenged and mischievous. “Are you interrogating me, dear sir? I wasn’t aware you worked from home.”
Sai laughed. “No, just curious, atashi no tsuma-sama.”
It was Ino’s turn to laugh. “I’m glad I chose to be with you.”
To this, Sai blushed. “You honor me, bijin.”
Ino broke away and went back to finishing the bouquet she had been working on.
“I thought we were going to have breakfast together?” Sai inquired, watching his wife measure out three feet of ribbon, which she then used to hold the previously forgotten carnations in place.
“We will. No worries. I just need to get this done.”
“Wasn’t this supposed to be for Nara?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I’ll deliver them myself later.”
Sai stared. Ino explained. “I need to help Shika out. Plus, there are some things that can be easily ironed out between two women.”
“You mean wives,” Sai whispered beneath his breath.
“What was that?”
“I have the best wife in the world. Watashi no hime-sama.” He touched the back of her hand. “I’m glad you chose me.”
Ino fingered one of the carnations and looked embarrassed but content.