"Welcome! And please, make yourselves at home. I'll show you to your rooms," the kind blue-haired lady, Tazuna's daughter, exclaims as she hustles us into the small home. A small black-haired boy with a blue striped bucket hat watches us curiously from the side of the room.
As we pass the living area, Tsunami points to the couches, apologizing that there weren't beds for everyone to sleep on. The genin each claim one of the three couches, Sakura fighting with Naruto for the one beside Sasuke. Sasuke sets his bag down and sits, closing his eyes and pretending he can't hear the other two.
"This way to your room, guys," she says.
"Room?" I mutter.
"It's nothing fancy. It's the master, I don't mind taking the guest room anyways. I hope you'll find it comfortable-"
"We're not together," I grunt. Tsunami goes red as she looks between us, her soft eyes flitting from me to Kakashi.
"O-oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed-"
Kakashi cuts her off, "The room will be fine. Thank you, we appreciate your hospitality while Tazuna builds the bridge."
Nope. Absolutely not. Big bag of nope. This is not happening.
I immediately shoot Kakashi a wide-eyed glare, intending to lecture him, but hold back while Tsunami is present.
"Yes," I manage through gritted teeth. The words are hard coming out, but I muster up as much kindness as possible. It isn't her fault, after all. She's been very kind to take us all in like this. "Thank you, Tsunami. You're very thoughtful."
"O-of course. I-It's no problem, really," she stammers, obviously embarrassed for assuming we were together. She opens the door to the master, letting us in first. "I-I can get a sleeping bag--or I could make a bed of blankets on the floor beside the-"
Kakashi cuts her off with a closed eye smile and a soft hand on her shoulder, "It's quite alright," he says. "We will figure it out."
Tsunami nods quickly before escaping down the hallway, her small feet echoing on the hard floor.
I glare at the single, queen sized bed in the middle of the room.
"What a great fucking situation," I mutter under my breath.
Kakashi chuckles and walks in, tossing his bag on the floor at one side of the bed.
"I mean, it's a queen sized-"
"You don't seriously expect me to sleep in the same bed with you," I grunt, stomping across the room and tossing my bag on a small chair in the corner. "I'll sleep here."
Kakashi shrugs, falling onto the bed and sprawling out like a starfish. I groan in frustration.
"Whatever, have it your way," he says, yawning loudly.
At dinner, Tsunami makes small talk, asking us about our village and the shinobi system. Sakura happily answers many of her questions while Sasuke and Naruto glare each other down across the table, seemingly in a staring contest.
I should just stop bothering with those two. Seriously.
I perk up when I hear my name.
"I'm sorry, I was totally zoned out. Can you repeat that?" I say, feeling slightly embarrassed by my rudeness. Tsunami takes no offence and giggles.
"It's alright. You must be exhausted after today's long journey," she says sweetly. I nod and realize she's right. As if all at once, I feel the exhaustion from the day wash over me.
"I am," I say, trying to stifle a yawn. "I might head to sleep early. Thank you for the meal, Tsunami-san. You really overdid yourself. It was delicious."
Tsunami waves my compliment, pink rising to her cheeks.
"Goodnight Ayame-Sensei!" Naruto grins, stuffing his face with more rice. The kid is demolishing his meal like he's never had a real meal in his life. I guess I know how he feels—I also ate cup ramen alone for many months of my life, so I know how great real food must taste to him. But seriously, learn some manners kid.
I give a two-fingered wave before heading up to the room.
I sigh looking at the tiny chair in the corner. For a moment, I consider finding a nice tree branch outside to sleep on, but when I pull the curtains and see the mist and layer of dew on everything, I push that thought away.
Sighing heavily, I fall onto the perfectly made bed and stare up at the ceiling, dreading every minute I have to sleep on that tiny chair in the corner.
It's better than the alternative, I remind myself.
I can hear crickets chirping through the opened window and the cool breeze from outside makes me feel even more tired than I already am. The sound is soothing, a repetitive noise that distracts me from my thoughts and makes a wave of relaxation fall over my heavy body. I close my eyes for just a moment, allowing myself a few seconds to enjoy the cool breeze on my face.
My eyes snap open. I forget where I am for a moment, it doesn't feel familiar.
Oh, right. The Land of Waves.
I go to move but something stops me. Arms. Large, muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. One around my torso and the other under my neck.
I feel my heart beat rapidly, increasing with the realization.
When I turn my head ever so carefully, his grey mop of hair falls on my face. I jump slightly, but I'm still held back by strong arms.
My breathing grows quick and shallow as I take in the situation.
How the fuck.
Oh no. I fell asleep. I laid down for two seconds and fell asleep.
I try to pry myself out of his grasp without waking him. Maybe he rolled over in his sleep and wrapped himself around me without realizing it. That would be best case scenario. Worst case... I don't want to think about it. I try to will the thought of him consciously deciding to spoon me out of my head.
He shifts a bit, warm breath from his nose hitting the back of my neck. It sends shivers through my whole body.
Good shivers? Bad shivers? I decide to assume the latter.
Finally, I pry myself completely from his grasp and roll quietly off the bed.
I stare at the sleeping figure on the bed. His hair falls down and forward, pieces covering his forehead. He still wears the mask, connected to a tight black tank top. Very tight. It hardly leaves anything to the imagination.
I will myself to look away. I can feel my body falling out of sync with my mind again.
No matter how much I know in my mind that I shouldn't stare, my eyes just won't look away.
They take in every little detail. The sharp shape of his jaw underneath the mask. The curves of his biceps. The swirling ANBU tattoo on his shoulder that we both share. The cut and defined lines on his abdomen...
I force my eyes shut, struggling to control myself. My body is no longer in sync with my mind. Instead, my mind seems in sync with my body, answering to its desires.
