Ficlet for my Rini
May. 29th, 2006 04:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
midnightdiddleFor my dear ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ainasiriel. <3~
Hayate left the ANBU when he was seventeen. He decided there'd been one too many close calls, and he'd rather live as long as he could, so he put in his papers for release, packed up his boxes, and left his mask in his old apartment. For the first few weeks he lived at his mother's house, and then he was renting an apartment on the west side of Konoha, and his days were filled with missions and the ilk.
He didn't stay in touch with anyone from the ANBU, 'cause he didn't see the need. He hadn't been that close to anyone, not like Genma and Raidou or Asuma and Kakashi had been, and what was the point, going out of his way for vague acquaintances.
Sometimes he'd stop by the monument, and sometimes he'd clap a prayer for Masa and the rest. Once in a while he'd make a jaunt by the hospital, sitting by Ibiki or Genma, peeling fruit 'cause they were too clumsy to do it themselves. On the whole, though, Hayate stayed away from ANBU, because ANBU was insane, and Hayate didn't want to be as out of control as he was when he was a kid.
As it was, Hayate certainly wasn't looking for the day he ran into Murakami Sumire. She grabbed onto the outside wall of the store, balancing precariously on her geta, and Hayate fumbled the bags in his hands, catching them before they fell.
"Sumire-san?"
They had tea in a little tea shop two blocks away, sitting at the small table, teacups steaming. Sumire hid behind her sleeve, kimono bright against her face. Hayate coughed, turning away to cover his mouth with his fist.
"I heard you left ANBU."
"Two months after you did," Sumire said smoothly, and her fingers looked little on the teacup.
"And Ibiki-san?" Hayate asked, and his curiousity sat like ice in his blood.
Sumire's kimono sleeve covered her mouth and her words were particularly careful sounding. "Ibiki-san is still in T&I."
The tea grew cold and new cups were poured, kimono sleeves swept up from pale wrists. Sumire spread her fingers along her obi, smoothed out the silk. Hayate leaned forward, elbow on his leg, forehead on his fingers.
"I wasn't avoiding you."
"You haven't come around for years," Sumire murmured, teacup held to her lips.
"I've been busy," Hayate lied, biting his hand.
Sumire reached across, touched the back of Hayate's hand, then pulled away, looking at the tea. "You've always been busy."
The tea shop emptied out, people leaving one by one. Sumire knelt on the other side of the table, kimono red as blood spilling across the floor. Hayate touched her cheek, fingers leaving red, and ran his thumb, cold, across her lips.
"I'm dead."
"I know," Sumire said, lips kissing his thumb.
"I didn't mean to," Hayate whispered, sliding away.
Sumire hid behind her kimono sleeve and looked down at the untouched tea cups. "I know."
Hayate didn't like waiting for things, didn't like pushing himself down in front of the memorial stone, clapping his prayers, or throwing himself into hospital rooms, waiting like a shroud over hospital beds. He didn't like running into old friends, or talking to older friends. He didn't like green tea, or the red kimono that Sumire wore like a funeral dress.
Hayate didn't like being dead.
ainasiriel. <3~Hayate left the ANBU when he was seventeen. He decided there'd been one too many close calls, and he'd rather live as long as he could, so he put in his papers for release, packed up his boxes, and left his mask in his old apartment. For the first few weeks he lived at his mother's house, and then he was renting an apartment on the west side of Konoha, and his days were filled with missions and the ilk.
He didn't stay in touch with anyone from the ANBU, 'cause he didn't see the need. He hadn't been that close to anyone, not like Genma and Raidou or Asuma and Kakashi had been, and what was the point, going out of his way for vague acquaintances.
Sometimes he'd stop by the monument, and sometimes he'd clap a prayer for Masa and the rest. Once in a while he'd make a jaunt by the hospital, sitting by Ibiki or Genma, peeling fruit 'cause they were too clumsy to do it themselves. On the whole, though, Hayate stayed away from ANBU, because ANBU was insane, and Hayate didn't want to be as out of control as he was when he was a kid.
As it was, Hayate certainly wasn't looking for the day he ran into Murakami Sumire. She grabbed onto the outside wall of the store, balancing precariously on her geta, and Hayate fumbled the bags in his hands, catching them before they fell.
"Sumire-san?"
They had tea in a little tea shop two blocks away, sitting at the small table, teacups steaming. Sumire hid behind her sleeve, kimono bright against her face. Hayate coughed, turning away to cover his mouth with his fist.
"I heard you left ANBU."
"Two months after you did," Sumire said smoothly, and her fingers looked little on the teacup.
"And Ibiki-san?" Hayate asked, and his curiousity sat like ice in his blood.
Sumire's kimono sleeve covered her mouth and her words were particularly careful sounding. "Ibiki-san is still in T&I."
The tea grew cold and new cups were poured, kimono sleeves swept up from pale wrists. Sumire spread her fingers along her obi, smoothed out the silk. Hayate leaned forward, elbow on his leg, forehead on his fingers.
"I wasn't avoiding you."
"You haven't come around for years," Sumire murmured, teacup held to her lips.
"I've been busy," Hayate lied, biting his hand.
Sumire reached across, touched the back of Hayate's hand, then pulled away, looking at the tea. "You've always been busy."
The tea shop emptied out, people leaving one by one. Sumire knelt on the other side of the table, kimono red as blood spilling across the floor. Hayate touched her cheek, fingers leaving red, and ran his thumb, cold, across her lips.
"I'm dead."
"I know," Sumire said, lips kissing his thumb.
"I didn't mean to," Hayate whispered, sliding away.
Sumire hid behind her kimono sleeve and looked down at the untouched tea cups. "I know."
Hayate didn't like waiting for things, didn't like pushing himself down in front of the memorial stone, clapping his prayers, or throwing himself into hospital rooms, waiting like a shroud over hospital beds. He didn't like running into old friends, or talking to older friends. He didn't like green tea, or the red kimono that Sumire wore like a funeral dress.
Hayate didn't like being dead.
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Because you already knew my reaction
Date: 2006-05-29 10:20 am (UTC)Re: Because you already knew my reaction
Date: 2006-05-30 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-30 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 08:25 pm (UTC)Poor f--d up Hayate. They all are f--d up.
*cries*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-30 05:46 am (UTC)Thank you. Thank you so much. :)