Part IV | Chapter 4

The steady warmth of his chakra washed softly over her skin. Her heart crushed at the comforting feel of it. She could sense nothing but him, so strong as he neared her, engulfed her in his essence. Gohama held on tightly to her bent knees against her chest. How long at it been since she had felt something so burning?

Hansuke hummed a cheery tune absently in his room, it seeped from under the bathroom door. Regret weighted as cold and heavy as lead at the light humming she hadn't her in so long. Before she could act on it, the sound of straining hinges filled the tiled walls and she didn't dare look up at him.

His chakra wavered as his voice did. "G-Gohama…" he called in urgency.

"It's not mine." She whispered. Her now red nagajuban against the porcelain of the bathtub would be a startling sight for anyone. "It's Genma's. I don't— He… He could be dead by now. He could die later, I don't know…"

"He's in Konoha now. He'll be alright." A ragged breath left her throat at his voice, his tone, so calm and warm, so Hansuke. He kneeled beside the bathtub. "You're shaking, Gohama."

She looked up from the hole between her arms and stared at her trembling hands. Her members stung too much for her to move them and yet they trembled with an impetuous she couldn't control. "It's from withdrawal." She commented quietly.

"Gohama…" She could hear the panic rising from his voice. Hansuke went right towards the worst scenario. Did she look that bad? She certainly did.

"Soldier pills." She corrected his assumption, her eyes never straying from the rebellious hands she had mastered since a child. Once allies in her kunoichi life now were nothing but frail useless hands. They mocked her with their shakes, even clenching them closed didn't stop them and it hurt too much. Her own body revolted against herself.

Why wasn't he demanding she explained herself? Why wasn't he kicking her out? Why was his voice as soft as before? No resentment in it?

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes."

He moved to stand up. "I'll get you some painkillers."

"No…" What she wanted to me a firm demand came only as a whisper. "Don't leave, please."

Hansuke shook his head with a sad smile. "The amount of times I've wanted those words from you… If I had known what it meant for you to ask… I wo—"

Gohama turned her palm upwards as a sign. Even through the gentleness of his fingers as they glided over her skin and his careful, almost inexistent hold, Gohama could feel his eagerness of finally being allowed to be there. And how she had managed to ran from his safe and warm presence, Gohama couldn't understand. Hansuke had always had to walk on eggshells around her, his touch oozed that.

"I'm sorry." She didn't even know what she was apologising for. She had fucked up so many things. Almost killing him was a good one, being a coward another one, but being herself seemed the more encompassing one.

"It's okay. We're here now."

She wrapped her shaking fingers around his and he answered by bringing both her hands inside his large ones. But the tremors were still there and they twirled over her arms onto her back and legs, overwhelming the burning of Hansuke's touch. It could never lighten that crippling loneliness nested deep inside her. She didn't want it to be crippling.

Gohama just wanted to be light again in her heart. As she remembered being so long ago. She had been happy, hadn't she? But it was so far away she couldn't even know what it tasted like. What was it like not to have half of herself gone? She couldn't remember, but she wanted it. For Hansuke, and for Nikato and Kisamaru.

She was exhausted and filthy from the fine airs in her arms to the marrow of her bones.

Her eyes finally lifted to his hazel ones "Can you help me bathe?"

"Of course." So soft, so affectionate, his voice and his smile made a lump press against her throat.

Hansuke started by turning the knobs, his long and calloused fingers from a shinobi life under the stream of water. When he felt the temperature was good, he formed a cup with his hands and they filled with water. Most of it fell as he brought it to her arm so she could feel it. "Warmer please." She asked and he did the same thing.

Gohama watched his gestures carefully, her distant attention never fading, even if she knew there was actually little interest in them. But somehow the care in such simple gestures were enough to calm her and she drank them in like a thirsty woman.

At the second attempt, the water was still not comfortably warm. Gohama nodded, not wanting to be an even heavier burden. She knew Hansuke wouldn't mind it, but the insignificant sacrifice felt more meaningful than it was. He gave her a long look and turned the knob to warmer. Of course he would see through her. Only satisfied with the temperature did he start undressing her.

His steady movements halted as he watched her. Was he afraid of touching her? Didn't he want to touch her? He had seen her naked before. He had touched her naked skin. There was no need for hesitance or modesty.

"Can I undress you?" his tone was the shiest he had used with her. She hated it.

Gohama had pushed them both to the starting line of their relationship, maybe even farther way.

"A bath wouldn't be very effective if you didn't." she hoped the light tone would help them.

"I suppose not." He said with a smile.

Hansuke started with the sash of the nagajuban, always too careful, too hesitant. His fingers never once brushed over her skin if they could help it. Never once did they linger. There was care in his eyes, but his gestures were methodical, measured, cold.

When Hansuke moved to the collar, his fingers curled around the fabric and Gohama couldn't stop the flinch at the touch, so different and yet the same as the target of her mission. He pulled his hand out as if burned.

"I'm sorry, Hansuke. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay." He said with another smile, but she could see the rejection behind it.

Gohama had fucked it up again. "It's just the mission, I didn't mean it." She almost pleaded "Please, you can—"

"It's okay, Gohama. I understand it." But he didn't understand.

He continued undressing her. Gohama watched his focussed expression, focussing on not touching her as he slid the fabric from her shoulders and arms, focussing on not looking at her more than he had to. He left her underwear on.

First, her legs. The hot water, almost burning as Gohama now liked, rippled through her skin, only the dirt rinsed off easily, flowing down her flesh onto the white porcelain of the tub down the drain, a muddy brown mixture. Filth. If only the water also washed away the one stuck under her skin.

Genma's blood was already dry and glued to her legs. With soap, the soap that smelled as Hansuke did, he brushed gently the stains on her legs. Gentle swipe by gentle swipe of his warm, rough hands the blood was washed away into another murky mixture.

Hansuke hooked his hand under her knee and slowly bent her leg. His touch reminded her of the far away night were he had held her there too. But it was different then. There had been passion, so much passion and love. At least, the care still seeped through his fingers. And intimacy. Even if he tried to hide under his methodical movements, the act of bathing someone was always intimate. Gohama relished on it as a starved woman.

If Gohama had thought his touch was soothing as he cleaned her legs, it never compared to the tender brushes over her back. Hansuke was faltering in his measured gestures, or maybe it was just the hot water over her tired muscles from carrying Genma. They were healing quickly with the help of Seiryu's chakra. Her entire body still ached, but with a long deep sigh the built-up tension eased away.

Hansuke helped her lean against the cold porcelain of the tub and goose bumps burst from her skin. He started on her arms and flowed up onto her shoulders. This time she watched his face instead of his hands. His hazel eyes, hidden behind full lashes, followed his touch over her stomach. The chakra that streamed in his hands reacted with her chakra core. It was too small for him to feel it. Gohama savoured the comfort, the familiarity of his energy. It flowed under her flesh and her own energy welcomed it, mingled with it.

A wave of affection and longing crashed through her from every inch of skin his hands touched. Her chest both crushed and swelled and the lump caught in her throat didn't let her breathe. Whatever it was that wanted to burst out of her Gohama couldn't hold it down much longer.

Hansuke pulled the showerhead up towards her head. The curtain of water excused her to clench her eyes shut and with that a shaky breath left her lips. Even so, the lump was still there, ready to spill out of her. Gohama fixed on the massages of Hansuke's fingertips on her scalp. Until they disappeared and then there was only water.

"Gohama." The way he called her name. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." She breathed out, her eyes still clenched shut.

"Hey, look at me."

His warm and safe hand held her cheek. The first time he touched her other than too wash her. Gohama opened her eyes and met his worried loving ones. Whatever it was that was bursting through her skin finally spilled. Tears. So many tears she thought she would drown. Instead her breath left with them and the air she had been gasping for for months finally filled her lungs.

"Don't stop." She mumbled between sobs.

Hansuke continued to clean her long hair. He covered it with the conditioner he had bought for her so long ago and washed it out. He gently bathed her chest and back. With her permission, he took her underwear and let her clean herself.

Even if her body was washed he continued to glide the water and his hands over the skin of her shoulders, stomach and back. Maybe he was trying to comfort her, maybe he was waiting for her to stop crying.

"It's not going to stop." She explained and he smiled.

Carefully not to hurt her injured muscles, he picked Gohama up and wrapped a towel around her, drying her skin. Then he dressed her with his clothes, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He hooked his arm under her knees and carried her to his bed.

How long had it been since she had lain in his sheets, engulfed by his scent, his chakra, his warmth? Too long. Gohama let him hold her tightly to his chest as he stroked her wet hair and she cried her eyes out against the crook of his neck. She clung with both her hands onto his shirt as if afraid of falling. There was nothing attractive about years of sobs, snot and tears spilling out of her onto his shoulder, but she had no space to feel self-conscious.

"There are so many things…" she whispered, her voice failing. "I don't think I can take all of them…"

Hansuke spread light kisses to her hair, forehead and temples. He whispered to the top of her head, "I can take them with you, Gohama."

Gohama cried until she had no more voice and no more tears. A weariness so different from her usual tiredness settled over her and then she fell asleep and she truly slept.

Already Gohama could sense Genma's lively chakra, still slightly feeble, as she walked up the stairs. Just the effort was making her legs hurt as they had never before from soreness. That section of the hospital was meant for recovering patients, so the pace of the medics and nurses was calmer and the noise quieter. She stood for a moment behind the white door, mentally preparing herself, and slid it open. Genma snapped his head towards her, a spoon dangling from his mouth.

His startled gaze softened, "You really shouldn't hide your chakra around your own comrades, you may end up dead, darling. And that would be a shame for every men in Konoha."

"Just Konoha?" She asked while closing the door and moving towards the bed nearest to the window.

"And the rest of the world of course." He added charmingly. Genma's easy compliments were always nice for her own feminine self-esteem.

Gohama took her hand from behind her back and tried to put a white carnation on his bedside table. But, even with his injury, Genma was fast and caught her wrist, prying the flower from her fingers.

"You brought me a flower?" he asked her with his typical smirk.

"That's what people do, isn't it?" she dismissed his teasing and sat down on the chair beside his bed. Her muscles were still aching too much for her to stand.

"Since when do you do what other people do?"

She sighed tiredly, settled her elbows on the edge of his bed, and rested her head on her hands. "I do a lot of things other people do. I eat, I shower, I sleep, I—"

"No, you don't." he disagreed with her last example, his tone unusually serious.

Gohama was not going there right now. She had just wanted to make sure Genma was okay for herself and make him some company. He couldn't go long intervals without human contact. "Just thank me for it and finish your Jell-O."

He was quiet for a moment, but quickly dipped his head with a grunt of pain to give her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Gohama. For the flower and for bringing me home alive."

Her forehead propped on her hands, she focussed her eyes on the threads of the duvet. "It was my fault." She whispered. "I froze. If I hadn't freak—"

His hand stroked the back of her head. "If's don't matter in our line of work. Both of us made it out alive, an S-rank mission, and we came back home. That's what matters."

He scooted onto the farthest side of the bed and patted his hand on the new open spot. Gohama looked up at him with an almost offended glare but he only answered with a wide smile. "I need someone to make fun at crazy ass shows with me." He shoot her puppy eyes that only made her roll her own. "Please, my darling Kyura."

With another roll, she settled next to him, her muscles all too glad with the comfortable bed. After a few seconds, her eyelids were too heavy to hold open and then she was asleep.

The alarming feel of the seal she had put on herself breaking made her jerk awake. It was good to know the trigger she had invented for any foreign chakra, but mostly meant for Seiryu's, was working. Once it detected any other chakra besides her own or others she wished for, it was meant to awake her and awake her it had done. But this was not Seiryu.

Even before becoming fully conscious, Gohama had her summoned tanto steady in her hand as she leaned the blade against a throat. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her away and she finally looked up from her tanto to the eyes of her attacker. Two raging gold eyes. Gohama pulled her blade away from the Godaime's neck with an apologetic wince and settled back down on the bed, ready to flee at any moment. Genma's hold on her remained as intrusive as before and she had to slap his arms away.

"You're lucky you're not dead, brat." Tsunade hissed, but quickly shook her head and ire away "Kicks, yes, punches, a lot of them. But never a tanto to the jugular I have to say."

The Hokage moved her glowing green hands again towards Gohama, but she evaded them and tried to sit up. A painful grip on her shoulder, clearly chakra enhanced from the burning sensation it left on her skin, forced her to sit back on the bed.

"There's really no need to—"

"I'm the medic here and the Hokage. I'll be the one to judge if there's any need." Before Gohama could argue again, Tsunade's threatening gaze returned in full force "And before you say anything stupid, you should know that I'm already pissed off at you for never reporting back to me once you arrived. Very much pissed the fuck off."

Gohama's mouth promptly shut and she looked down at her hands. Between Hansuke and making sure Genma was okay, she had completely forgotten about the mandatory report. At the cool and invading sensation of Tsunade's chakra, she mentally prepared herself for the Hokage's fury. It started with a scowl that bunched her blond eyebrows. Then, the chakra pushed deeper into her body, branching through her finest pathways. Until it disappeared in an instant. A vein throbbed in Tsunade's forehead and her hands twitched at her sides.

That was her cue.

Gohama jumped away to the other side of the bed. A remote flew towards her head and she ducked it and watched it fly through the open window, far away from the hospital. Definitely a chakra enhanced throw that could have possibly killed her. Other objects continued to be thrown against her and she evaded every one of them. Tsunade accompanied her attacks with deafening furious shouts - even Genma had cowered under his bed covers – about Gohama's stupidity and other insults to her intelligence, an entire medical lecture on soldier pills and its dangerous aftereffects and a series of threats of bodily harm, limb chopping and decapitation.

"Now get your damn ass on a damn bed before I impale you with the damn curtain rod!" she moved to leave the room, her heavy stomps shaking the entire floor. Before she closed the door she pointed another glare and finger at Gohama "And if I hear from one of the nurses or medics you're anything but the sweet, obedient, ideal patient I will throw your ass back to Snow and unleash every hunter nin after you!"

The door snapped shut and the two of them just stared at it with horror, willing their hearts to calm back down. Genma's heartbeat monitor only mocking them more for it.

"We've survived." Genma exhaled with relief and it prompted Gohama to move away from the safe corner of the room. He patted on the open spot next to him with a smirk. "Hokage-sama never specified which bed."

Too exhausted to care, Gohama flopped down next to him. A nurse entered and threw them a displeased glance, but didn't tell her to move to another bed. She arranged her IV with practiced ease and speed, and left.

When Gohama was ready to fall back asleep, Genma murmured seriously beside her "Good thing there wasn't a soldier pill in the enemy's pouch."

Good thing, indeed. Overdose on soldier pills, what a pathetic way for a Kyura jinchuriki to die.

The softness of the afternoon's light seeped into Hansuke's living room. He had slid the glass doors open so the cool air would clear the house. The biting cold against her cheeks harmonized with the heat on her legs from the kotatsu. Each with a cup of tea, they enjoyed their quiet evening after she had been released from the hospital. The wind was buzzing over their conversation and the cheery voices of children reached them from the other backyards.

When they started talking about their two teammates, Gohama turned her eyes away to the unkempt lawn. Hansuke told her of their missions until then, of how they had been doing. A feeble, longer twig swayed back and forth every time the wind picked up, resting almost against the soil. Nikato was looking for a girl and Kisamaru had buried himself in some medical study with Shizune and the Hokage's apprentice. A grasshopper jumped onto the engawa and, displeased with the hardwood, soon disappeared again into the messy grass, his chakra too frail for her to sense it so far. Nikato was starting to master a few A-rank fire jutsu and Kisamaru had started using chakra scalpels as an attack technique. The leaves of the peach tree were rustling against each other and she could already see the buttons that would soon give place to flowers.

She continued to watch the backyard as Hansuke went quiet, with no more stories to share. The heavy silence said enough about what he had let out. It hang over them heavy against their shoulders, a weight she had put there herself.

"Do they hate me?" Gohama asked weakly, her face turned away from him as much as she could.

He placed his large hand over hers where it laid on the kotatsu. "Of course not."

"Did you lie to them about what happened?"

"No. I told them everything, except that it was a beast's chakra."

"Thank you." She said honestly, as she watched the steam fade from her cup of tea. She wanted them to know the truth, at least the one that would not compromise their team even more. "Are they scared of me?"

"Gohama, of course not. They understand it. Well… Nikato didn't understand why you had to disappear again, but Kisamaru did. At least he expected you to. But that doesn't matter, you're back now."

"I miss them…" she whispered mutely.

"I can invite them over for dinner." He saw the hesitance and trepidation in her eyes before she could avert them to the scenery of his backyard. Hansuke brought his hand to cup her cheek and turned her face back to his. "Gohama… they don't hate you and won't judge you. They just want you back."

"Tomorrow." He nodded and started moving his hand away, but she held it back against her face and pressed her lips to his palm. "Be patient with me."

"Of course." He answered while brushing his thumb through the arch of her cheek.

His gentle touch and tender voice spread like flames through her skin and she laid his hand back on the table. "I want to tell you something… something I learned on my first jonin mission." She saw his fingers twitch slightly as her gaze was focussed on them. "Before I killed him, the target told me about the… massacre." His chakra shuddered and she drew in a shaky breath to disperse the tightness that had filled her throat just from saying that word. "He was one of the missing-nin that slaughtered my Village, he was, they were paid by a criminal organization named Akatuski. They were after me, the jinchuriki. They wanted and still want Seiryu."

Gohama dared raise her eyes to meet his and her chest pinched at the dread that was filling his always steady hazel. She pulled her hands away from his and started moving to stand up. "I shouldn't have told you, shouldn't have put that on you."

His hand snapped up to grab her own. "No, Gohama, of course you should have and I'm glad you did. I'm glad you trusted me with it. It's just… it's just scary... because they're still out there, I know the name, Akatsuki, it's been around the ranks for some time. That means we have to be more careful, but also… I know you're blaming yourself, Gohama, and I wished I could push some sense into you, but I know you won't listen when I say it's not your fault, or to stop blaming yourself for something you had no power over. And it's always the same thing, because I'll always say this and you'll always fight me on it and I'll fight you back… and I don't want to fight now… So, please, Gohama, just sit down," he pulled her hand down and towards him and she followed. He then moved her to lay her head on his shoulder and wrap his arms around her. "for now, you'll just tell me whatever you want to tell me and I'll just listen."

And Gohama shared. It started as a hesitant and vague telling at first and soon she was spilling everything that needed to be spilt. She never went into detail on what Dazai had done, sure that it would do no good for Hansuke to know. What came to her as a torrent after a broken barrage was the massacre. His muscles tensed, hard and tight, around her and his heartbeat raced. Gohama wondered if she should stop, as she felt how uneasy he was, his chakra shouting it, but the words were falling and now she couldn't stop them.

So, she told him of the man in the white mask, the one that had killed Mother and Father; she told him of her leaving her brother Yukine behind; she told him of Kunimaru, her childhood friend, taking three kunai to the chest for her; of the desolation, destruction, the smell and the screams and all she could have done was run; she told him of how Yukine, Father's wolf summon, had carried her to Uncle's monastery and she had cried against his white fur the entire way, and how that had been the last time she had seen him. The last time she had seen anyone, never to know how they had died, if they had suffered or if had been offered a quick, merciful kill. Not merciful, nothing about the massacre had been merciful.

Gohama heard his effort not to cry and felt his damp cheek against her brow. Neither of them said anything for the rest of the afternoon. The same weariness as when she had cried herself to sleep emptied her from inside out. Her throat was sore and mouth dry from talking for so long, but she was too comfortable in Hansuke's arms, over the now steady beat of his heart.

His hand glided from her shoulder, through her neck, and she shivered, until it reached her cheek. He turned her to look at him. Only when the rough pad of his thumb cleared the tears from her cheeks did she realise she had cried too.

Sundown's golden light reflected against his damp lashes and the hazel of his eyes, a shade lighter, gleamed at her against the redness, clear and loving. The sight made her beat, empty heart tremble with its beauty. Her awed gaze lingered on it, frozen and light. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her own lips and they tingled. It had such a violent and forgotten effect on her, she let a small grasp leave her mouth. Her heart rushed frantically against her ribs and that ache for Hansuke she knew so well teared through her blood. For so long Gohama hadn't felt her body bursting with life like this, and it almost desperately pulled her defeated spirit with it.

Gohama threw herself deeper in his arms, gripping the fabric at the back of his shirt. She pressed her body to his and breathed in the scent of his throat, her lips hovering there. But it was not enough to quench the longing she was not ready for, not enough to free the liveliness that had taken over her. She needed more of him, but she knew she wouldn't be able to take it.

"Gohama…" her name came out between a question and a breathless sigh.

"Just hold me and be patient with me." She nuzzled her nose on his neck and let herself breathe in his presence. "Tell me whatever you want to, I want to listen too."

The familiar wave of two chakra signatures, one loud as wind and the other reserved as the cold blue of lightning, reached her and her hands jolted away from the table she was setting.

Hansuke, with a comforting smile, stroked her cheek with the back of fingers. "Time to finish dinner." He gave her a wooden spoon so she could stir the vegetables, safely guarded behind a task, as he checked the frying fish.

They could already hear Nikato's excited shouts as he spoke with Kisamaru. Their signatures were at the threshold of Hansuke's home, the outside door slid open with a dry bang, and Nikato's voice filled the house. Gohama stared at the vegetables as they took off their shoes in the genkan, her mind imagining every little detail of how she should stand, talk and react to any possible scenario the boys decided to follow. Should she continue her pretend cooking, her back to them as they entered? Or should she turn to face them before they reached the door? Should she go to them as before? Or wait until they decided their position towards her and follow their lead?

She was still undecided when the waves of chakra seeped into her back unhindered. Beside her, Hansuke's greeted as he always did, "Good evening, Nikato, Kisamaru, dinner is almost ready."

Then she turned, the wooden spoon held tightly against her chest. Nikato had an expecting gleam to his face, with a silly grin stuck to his cheeks. Kisamaru just stared back, with small twist to the corners of his lips, proper and straight.

Her mind went blank on whatever choice of actions she had thought was better to follow. Forcing herself to speak, Gohama let out a quick and choked. "Hi."

A path of scorching red rose from her neck up to her cheeks, as the disaster of her little, awkward, inappropriate greeting was left unanswered. Anything would have been better, from an apology, to a hug, to a Gai like celebration of friendship and youth. But "hi" had never been her greeting expression, it had sounded so fake in her mouth, as fake as their second, even third, try at friendship. Fake floated through them, clear and loud.

It was going so wrong and all she had done was speak a word, a syllable. Hansuke would be devastated, and the boys and she would pretend everything was back to normal for him. But it wasn't and it would never go ba—"

Her back hit the counter as a heavy force crashed against her front. She knew the energetic flow that engulfed her senses and the warm, too tight, weight of those arms around her. "Gohama!" he called as he lifted her and spun her around easily.

"Hey, Nikato." She whispered and let herself be hugged for as long as he would allow her to be.

He pulled back, his grin wide and almost painful, and she couldn't help but smile back. Her hand shot up to his trimmed ginger hair and she pushed back the strands that fell over his forehead. "You cut your mane."

"How's it look?"

"Very handsome. Your socks?"

"I matched them just for you, Go-chan."

"Thank you, Kato-chan." She put as much emotion as she could into her gratitude, in hopes he would understand.

Kisamaru was already next to them. He smiled more openly now, his pale lavender eyes sharp against hers, as his hands fidgeted in front of him. He had probably been as nervous about how to properly react as she had been. His arm reached out to her shoulder and he squeezed it. He couldn't mask the uncertainty in his show of affection and Gohama smiled at the unusual gesture that was still Kisamaru. Her hand squeezed back his own.

"We got you scotch! The good kind!" Nikato said as he displayed the bottle of amber alcohol and shoved it into her hands.

"And yes, I did inform him that your liver is recovering and—"

"And" Nikato interrupted "I told the idiot you could just drink it another time, when your liver is the beast we all know it to be." Not just her liver, she thought with amusement to herself.

Gohama chuckled and smiled again. "You didn't need to, you guys. Thank you." But soon the blush was back on her neck and face. She hadn't known they were going to exchange presents. "When Tsunade deems my liver suitable, then I'll pay you three a night at Ippon."

With the easiness of a senbon cutting through air, they were back to their old dinners and long nights that wavered between deep conversations and senseless talking that led nowhere. The boys ended up sleeping there too and the four of them laid on futon in the living room. Tomorrow they would start the day with team training and ask Tsunade for a four-person mission.