"Sensei, Minato looks kind of weird.'
'Your face looks kind of weird, shut up.'
The blond hissed, dark blue eyes narrowed angrily. That was enough to make Jiraiya look away from the general area where the spine of the kunoichi in front of him ended. Not the saying that his youngest pupil looked kind of weird, because Minato was plain weird and that wasn't news at all. The answer was what caught his attention.
He could count the times the short blond had answered to his teammates unpleasantly with the fingers on one hand. So far, it amounted to two, and both times because one of the others had done something that had screwed up the mission. It just wasn't in the blond's character to talk like that. Lately he had noticed that his star pupil looked a little paler and sometimes found him frowning lightly as if he had some problem he couldn't solve.
He had attributed it to some new technique he was trying and couldn't quite perfect, but now that he thought about it, a week was kind of long a time for something to go unsolved. Sure, the blond was a perfectionist, but to take a week to solve something was unheard of. By now he would have either figured it out himself or already gone ask him or that damned Suna brat he seemed to be attached at the hip to.
He stared at the white-clad genin and not for the first time wondered how the hell did he manage to keep that uniform of his clean.
'Minato, are you sick?'
'No.'
He waited for some more elaboration, but Minato was still looking at the floor as if he expected to find pennies on the path to this stupid C ranked mission, arms crossed over his chest. Stubborn little brat.
He stopped on his tracks and waited for the genin to catch up with him, and when he did, he sneaked a palm under the back of his shirt and pressed it against his back. The blond jumped a little at the unexpected invasion, tried to jerk away, but then just huffed and stayed still, not reacting to the palm pressed against his back one way or another. Jiraiya frowned. Maybe, just maybe, the blond had a bit of high temperature, but nothing that was life endangering or even a good cause to stop and camp down. Minato hadn't complained about being tired… Not that he complained about anything, really, but other than that and having a bit of a harder time to wake him up that morning, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him.
'Are you done, sensei?' the blond asked calmly, giving the older man that strange, sullen look that was completely unlike himself.
'Are you sick, brat?' he asked again, giving the younger boy a searching look.
'No.' the teen emphasized, then continued walking once his back was freed. And he wasn't. He just felt weirdish. Unpleasantly so.
#+#+#+#+#+#
'Minato-kun, aren't you going to eat that?' The blond answered with some vague noise without looking up from his slumped position and pushed his tray in front of his older teammate. 'Thanks, Minato-kun, you are the best!' Tetsuo replied with a grin and started enthusiastically shoveling the food the blond had barely touched.
Whatever, have him stuff himself with it. Minato just wanted to sleep… His stomach still had that odd heaviness to it that had nothing to do with food and all he wanted was to curl up and sleep it off. Only so far sleeping it off hadn't worked too well… but maybe that's because he had been having one stupid mission after the other? He'd take the day off and just rest up. They didn't have anything else scheduled until the next week, and Daichi would be back from his own mission tomorrow. Which meant he got to have the redheads bed all for himself that night.
Normally, he didn't like invading the older shinobi's private space without him being there, but he didn't think he could bear Tetsuo's snoring for one more night. Not without chocking him in his sleep. Besides, Daichi wouldn't mind if he came back and found him there already. The older nin liked holding him and for some reason he had the feeling that being touched by the other might make him feel a little better.
And Sabaku no Daichi had a hard day. First, he was taken to the ungodly four hours of exercising that all Suna ninjas did, just to not forget how it was at home and not to get too accommodated to lazy and fresh climate of the stationing place, then, when it was just a time for his rest, the B-ranked mission was pointed out to be done and he spent a whole day on running around the forest full of tigers, wild boars and big snakes that were very aggressive. It made him use almost all his kunai sets to not be bitten by any of them out of sudden (luckily, the diamond ring was found finally somewhere completely else and he didn't have to worry about using Suna shurikens he was not as good at as he was supposed to be in the damp forests – the place of his stationing).
So once he was back at his academy flat, he was sticky, dirty, almost dead, dirty, dead, sticky and dirty, oh, and dead, did he mention that? Probably he did. So the last thing on his mind was cuddling with anyone, and especially pretty blond boys, when…
'What are you doing here?' he asked, after entering his room and starring three full seconds at his own bed in silence 'It's supper time.'
But of course, his bed was full of pretty young boys… a-hem, boy waiting for him. Not that he didn't mind and wouldn't want to cuddle up with him… but not in such state. Daichi liked his things pretty and clean. Brushing his hands against the pretty face in that state seemed to be almost like an unforgivable sin now.
So he only had bended down to brush his dry lips against the temple of the blond and got up to take a quick change of his clothes. Thankfully, the water was just as he left it – in the bucket, and nobody had removed it. For once nobody wasted the incredible liters of liquid like if it was made of dirt.
Minato wasn't asleep. Almost but not quite, just like he'd been for the last three hours he'd been lounging in bed. He wasn't going to kid himself anymore - he felt sick. Not nauseous sick, not painful sick, even though he did feel kind of nauseous and kind of pained, but nothing like any sort of nausea and any sort of pain he'd felt before. He just felt heavy and sick and hot and cold and just irritated at everything around and all that existed. It's like the world had purposely worked by itself to be as impossibly annoying as it were by doing exactly what it did every day.
When the older nin arrived Minato again answered with some non-committal grunt that he hoped sounded more sleepy that rude and curled more around the pillow. Pressing it against his stomach helped a bit.
Daichi rose his eyebrow at that behavior, but didn't really comment. He washed himself quietly, carefully doing everything to not waste a droplet of water. Once he was done with his skin and finally felt more fresh than clammy, he wore the fresh clothes and came back to the room he went out from. After a moment of staring at the blond tuft of hair, he sat down near the boy and snuck his fingers in the soft tangles.
'Had a bad day?' he muttered, stroking the scalp of Minato for a moment, then he leaned down, kissing the soft cheek 'Me too. Want to talk about it?'
As usual, the little blond tensed slightly at the contact, then slowly relaxed. It always surprised him that Daichi would want to touch him at all, not to mention that he would do it as often as he did. What surprised him more was the fact he had the feeling he rather liked it, and for some reason that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. No one ever touched him more than necessary unless it was a mission.
Angling his head a bit, he stared up at the older boy, feeling the fingers stroking the skin on his head and actually felt compelled to tell him about how he was feeling… But then, if he did say anything… Daichi would start questioning him about how and why and when and how long and then he'd bodily drag him to the infirmary regardless of if the younger shinobi wanted to go or not.
'No.' he said sincerely, softening the negative by giving him a small smile. 'You can tell me about yours, if you want.'
Daichi smiled lightly and got up, only to lay down properly on bed and cuddle with the blond. If he wanted to stay for a story, he could as well make it comfortable for himself. With a light hand he had grabbed the pillow that the blond was holding onto and tucked it up under their heads.
'It's getting between us.' he said on the excuse and leaned down to kiss the boy on the cheek again. So far the kiss on the lips was the most he had dared to think about so he wanted to savoir the fruits of it slowly. They had time to kiss.
'It was an ordinary day of an ordinary ninja.' he started with a soft voice, getting a little closer to the blond and hugging him to himself a little more 'It started with training that begins only when sun gets up…' And then he dwelled on how it prolonged, mentioning all stand-ups and runs and turns and sit-downs, talking about how the Third was a sadist and how he admired that in him. It really was a pleasure after all to have a blond near him now. It seemed he was mistaken previously.
Minato swallowed the moan bubbling up his throat when the pillow was removed and his stomach suddenly felt very much like a defenseless spot. He also had to swallow the urge to pull his knees to his chin and rock a little. But then Daichi pulled him close up which was good, and put his arm around his waist, which was better because he was warmer than the pillow, and now he could hear him talk.
Because he really liked the older boy's voice, which was so incredibly nice and soothing when he wasn't busy snarling orders to his teammates or growling at shinobi from other villages one wouldn't believe it if it hadn't been heard before. Sagara, the teammate that Daichi had lost about a year ago had told him his mother had been some sort of incredibly talented singer in Sunagakure. It seemed that people from Suna couldn't live without not only being fearsome fighters without some artsy stuff to balance things out.
He listened to the 'story' with a small, contented smile that had more to do with his current location than actually finding funny what the other was saying (forest of death wasn't a laughing matter, Suna nin or not) and waited some more to make sure that the other was done.
'Long day then, sempai?' he asked, smile widening just a bit. 'You should go get something to eat anyway.'
Daichi had smiled back, then locked his eyes with the blond's, stroking his cheek lightly.
'I have everything I need here.' he muttered and leaned down for a light peck It didn't taste of anything special, but he liked the sole texture of the skin 'Tasty.' And with that, he leaned for more.
Minato swallowed the moan bubbling up his throat when the pillow was removed and his stomach suddenly felt very much like a defenseless spot. He also had to swallow the urge to pull his knees to his chin and rock a little. But then Daichi pulled him close up which was good, and put his arm around his waist, which was better because he was warmer than the pillow, and now he could hear him talk.
The blonde smiled in return, leaning into the affectionate touch easily enough. Daichi often took advantage of doing this whenever his other teammate wasn't around and he… Didn't really care, to tell the truth. It felt too nice to complain about it. It also made him feel warm. And warmth made that sickish feeling lessen until it was barely noticeable.
'I don't think 'tasty' will get you very far when your next mission comes, sempai.' the blond answered reasonably once the redhead released his mouth. As much as he had unconsciously wanted this, Daichi *had* just come from three day long mission. And besides, he has no intention of going anywhere unless expressively asked to. He could wait for the chuunin to come back.
Not that he had phrased the question to learn when his next mission was scheduled…
Daichi smiled at the words and leaned on the pillow with a sigh. Indeed, he didn't eat from some time and his stomach had already forgotten how it was once it was full, so it stopped even complaining for it. But at the sole idea of some goat, hazelnuts, honey mixed with cider and dry meat his insides whined miserably. It was some feeding time.
'For once you could stop being so logical.' he murmured and pecked the blond on the nose 'I'll be right back. Do you want me to bring you anything?'
He smiled at the compliment. Of course he had to be logical, there was no need to go around hungry when they weren't in a mission. Too bad the other hadn't rose to the bait and told him when his next mission was. Now he didn't know if he could afford staying more than just one night.
'No, thank you.' he said, retrieving the pillow and curling around it as soon as the other removed his arms from him. Maybe he was a little bit hungry, but instinctively knew that if he ate something, it would only make him feel sicker. Once the Suna chuunin left, he relaxed again, his mouth drawn into a small gesture of discomfort. He decided it was a good moment to try to sleep again.
#+#+#+#+#+#
Minato woke up again, and this time immediately knew something had just gone wrong. It wasn't a specific physical feeling because he couldn't actually feel much, curled up as he was and enveloped in the half pleasant-half suffocating warmth of the heavy blankets (halfway to the mountains apparently was too cold for Sunanins…). The pain in his lower stomach hadn't exactly intensified or diminished, just hanged in there like some sort of water balloon filled with umcomfortableness. Water being the keyboard. He made a low complaining noise at the thought of leaving the bed to relieve his bladder. No, no, the bed felt too good. He wasn't going to get up for all the B ranked missions in the world.
But… with an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, the blond sat up, getting rid of the blankets and the pillow in the same movement. He didn't think he had slept much, or that he had slept at all in reality, because the room's owner wasn't back yet. So either someone had caught the other or it had only been a few moments. That's what he was thinking about as he stood up, and it was at that moment that he felt it.
Something going down in the sincerely most displeasing of ways he had ever felt (and in a mission he'd been dunked in a lake full of leeches and had to actually wait for them to fall down on their own, in another he'd been swallowed by a Sand worm and had to carve his way out of the things stomach, so he knew what disgusting was) and for a moment he stared down at himself. Nothing. He hadn't wet himself? The front of his pants seemed well, and what he'd felt hadn't felt like urine, but what the hell else… He took a tentative step in the bathroom's direction. The sticky it was still there. Against his underwear.
It was at this moment that Minato decided that maybe what he had wasn't that normal and maybe he should have said 'yes' when Jiraiya told him to go see a medic. In fact, it looked like a great idea to do right now. Just as soon as he found out what the hell was in his underwear. A moment later he was in the bathroom, and up until then he'd felt just annoyed about the fact he'd probably caught an infection and would have to be taking bitter-tasting medicine and suffering through Tsunade-sensei chasing him around to make sure he didn't try to sneak out of taking it.
Once he saw what his boxers were covered in, the thought died there as if from a broken neck, and for a while, there was no thought at all in the blond's head. It wasn't just a little blood, ether, it was a lot of blood. Well, not really, not like when he'd cut his leg with ninja wire and ended up needing stitches, not as if he'd been stabbed, but a lot of blood for an area that hadn't been cut or harmed in any way. Some sort of thought started taking form in his mind, something that might or not have been important, but all the same a thought that had no chance to voice itself as his brain jumpstarted back into action.
Some sort of inner trauma? He didn't remember having been recently hit in his stomach area or nowhere near, he had barely been scratched on this last mission, and that took the past three days, so even if it hadn't been some exceedingly slow trauma… Some inner rupture? But triggered by what? Nothing inside him hurt him. What he'd been feeling the past days was more uncomfortable than anything else. He tentatively laid a hand in his lower stomach. Nothing. Even if he added pressure… Well, it actually felt a little better, but that was just because his hand was warm. He moved to his forehead, not really feeling any difference. Even if he were having a fever, it couldn't be too high…
Even as he analyzed the situation, his hand moved from his forehead and caught the paper roll, cutting the amount and wiping himself –more sticky- blue eyes went down to the paper to find that there was even more blood there. And it didn't look too healthy at all. It was too dark and kind of thick and not at all like blood was supposed to be. He had to go to the clinic right now.
Even as that quite coherent thought formed itself and was unanimously approved by his higher consciousness, a small stubborn voice kept repeating that he had to hide it. Of course, that voice made no sense, but it was insistent enough to compel him to do his best to hide the evidence right there. He first wiped his underwear with more toilet paper, which was disgusting - but toilet paper was disposable and he wouldn't use a towel if it killed him- then put some more at the bottom to try and sponge back whatever else fell… if anything else decided to fall. Then he put his pants back and looked as carefully as possible to make sure he hadn't accidentally left some proof. There was a tiny droplet at the edge of the seat of the toilet, so he cleaned it immediately, then put it back up.
He looked around, but nothing else seemed suspicious, so he washed his hands, making sure no trace of smell was on them, then pressed the button until the water there was perfectly clear. Okay, the bathroom was done. He went back to bed and tidied it up, making sure nothing had been accidentally stained even though it hadn't managed to get past his pants - only it might do it now. It just might.
Looking around, he located his jacket and tied it around his waist. There, that was covered. His stomach didn't appreciate being left to fare with the lack of protection, but his t-shirt would have to do. Now just… he had to just write a note and say that… He'd forgotten he needed to get some things ready for his next mission. He was sure that he could have come up with something a little more inspired but the thing slid his way down, making a shiver of disgust crawl up his spine, and he decided that had to do. An apology later, he was out of the redhead's room through the window and headed to the clinic.