Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any characters therein.
A/N: IzuMito. Clearly, all these LJ discussions are corrupting my brain.
Speaking of which, the ItaShi exchange is close enough to finished that I can start living something other than That Fic again. Hence, this drabble, written at an ungodly hour-proof that I am still alive, hm?
of unnecessary complications
Izuna doesn't know what it is about the woman that fascinates him. Certainly there is no shortage of possible answers.
Perhaps it is her vibrancy. The way she arrived in Konoha in a blaze of color, all bright yellow silks, white marble skin and flashing turquoise eyes like the waters of her homeland; scarlet lips the same color as the hair that refuses to stay within its bonds, choosing instead to whirl about her head like a fiery halo. Her calm energy, crackling just beneath a stately surface; every so often, streaking briefly across her face in the form of a surprisingly mischievous smile.
Perhaps it is the way she seems so at odds with herself. She stepped off of the boat an expressionless young woman, prepared to marry and live as a prison for a demonic creature; yet the moment her slippered feet touched Konoha's ground something in her aura changed. She was no trophy wife or sacrificial lamb; she was no pawn at all. She had purpose, she had fire and life, and she was-is-a force to be reckoned with in her own right.
Perhaps it is nothing so poetic. Perhaps it is merely a collection of small things-she carries herself with pride, but does not look down on those her fiancé leads. She is stern when necessary, but smiles more easily now, after a few weeks spent becoming accustomed to the foreign land that is now her home. She is, on principle, incredibly strong: housing a demon, sealing that demon with your own strength, is no minor feat by any stretch of the imagination.
And perhaps all this is merely a misinterpretation of the respect he feels for her; his brother has told him more than once that he has an unfortunate penchant for exaggeration. Izuna looks up to her, certainly, but what marks the difference between respect and something more complex?
Conjuncture is ultimately useless in any case. Any feelings toward her beyond what is expected would be entirely useless and unnecessarily distracting.
She is to be the Shodaime's wife, after all.
end