Sometimes she stops to pinch herself, or stop her flow of chakra, anything to check and make sure she isn’t in a genjutsu.
Which is pathetic, especially when he catches her at it. It’s happened once or twice in particularly somber moments, when she stops to think of what she has done, and if she deserves something as simple and pleasant as this.
She does, she always selfishly decides, but that doesn’t mean she has to believe it.
“Don’t give me that look!” Anko jabs her fingers into his side, embarrassed and avoiding the knowing look he’s giving her. She takes his hand instead of pulling away, leaning in to him as they stand and watch the match in front of them.
Konoha might be celebrating a second mokuton user, but Anko has her eyes set on more important goals: that’s her son out there fighting Hatake’s brat.
There’s cheering as the girl produces a chidori (is anyone surprised? Why are they surprised? Anko hates them, cheering for the wrong things), and then a stunned, embarrassed silence as the sound of birds stops dead.
Hatake’s daughter falls to the floor, unconscious, while her son stands there looking sheepish. Mokuton to the face, what a way to go.