Clause 25

A/N: - GenAnko. I'm aware that this isn't a very popular pairing, but I like it. I think they'd be cute. Written a loooooong time ago. Takes place, let's say right after Gekkou Hayate's (the examiner for the prelims) death. I think Anko's a bit OOC at one point in time; sorry. Enjoy, and if you like it, or think it can improve, don't hesitate to give me a review:-)

Mild warning:- rated for some sexual innuendoes, nothing much.

Disclaimer: - Nope, don't own nothing.


"Jeez, you even sleep with those things, don't you? I could have sworn I felt something poking me last night. I know I took out the last one; the question is, when did you find time to put another back in?"

Genma started as someone yanked the senbon out of his mouth. He grumbled groggily and gripped the sheets, trying to sit up in his half-dead state. As the sheets fell away, revealing his bare chest, he heard a wolfish whistle. He opened his eyes with some difficulty, and beheld Mitarashi Anko standing over him, naked.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Ten seconds, a few calming breaths and some reassuring words later, he reopened them.

She was still standing there, grinning like a fox.

"Oh God, no."

"The words each woman pines to hear after a night with her dream lover."

Wordlessly, he handed her a shirt. Last night, last night, last night. What in the hell had happened last night? He remembered the meeting with the Hokage, calmly taking in the news of his best friend Hayate's death, and of Orochimaru's hand in it. He remembered trying to do something incredibly stupid, and being stopped by Kakashi, Asuma and Gai. He remembered a bar, the other Jounin and an ungodly amount of sake. And, very vaguely, he remembered Anko.

He sighed, rubbed his eyes and groped around on the bureau for a senbon. Sticking it into his mouth, he eyed the special Jounin. Anko, now at least partially dressed, was still grinning.

"You know, I have to tell you, you make one strange, if unique bedfellow."

"Hunh?" he grunted.

"I've never spent the night with a man and had two things poking at me at the same time." She paused thoughtfully. "Unless you count Kotetsu and Izumo. They're practically one guy anyway."

Genma stared up at the outrageous woman, and blinked. Usually, he would have had some quick retort or quip at the ready, but it was really just too early in the morning, and he was really just too, too depressed.

Anko bounded out of the room, and soon Genma could hear the cabinets in his kitchen being flung open and slammed shut. The shinobi groaned, and ran his fingers through his tan coloured hair.

"So, what do you have to eat in this place?" she shouted, unnecessarily loud.

He didn't answer, but instead used the time to put on his pants. He rolled his tongue thoughtfully around the senbon. Anko, huh? That was probably one of the worst mistakes he would ever make. The wild kunoichi was known for being flighty, and a bit promiscuous. Oh well, whatever. Once he didn't get attached to her (which he undoubtedly wouldn't) it was okay. And hey, it had been good. All of it that he could remember, anyway.

His eyes fell on the dresser, on a picture of him and Hayate in their Genin days. Hayate had those same dark circles beneath his eyes, and he himself had his trademark senbon in his mouth. For a few moments, Genma's eyes softened, but then he resolutely turned away. He would not think about Hayate. He had done enough of that last night. He had drowned his sorrows in sake (though that was probably as effective as a fish trying to drown its sorrows in water) and now, he would get over it. Hayate had been a ninja, and it was canon that things like this happened to shinobi everyday.

"Clause 25," he muttered to himself. "Clause 25."

Still, his eyes drifted back to the picture. Anko walked in to find him staring at it wistfully, chewing on the senbon. She put on the rest of her clothes and then walked up behind him to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know I told you this last night, but since you were too drunk to remember anything, I'll say it again. Sorry. Really, I am. Especially since it was probably, you know…."

Genma grunted, and shrugged.

They walked into the kitchen together. Anko placed some bread, ham and eggs on the table, and pushed them towards him expectantly. He stared at the items bleakly.

"Come on," she said, poking him in the chest. "You're my host, and I'm hungry, so make me something to eat, damn it."

He sighed and yawned. Oh well, he was hungry too, so he might as well. He shuffled around the kitchen drowsily, putting a meal together. Anko raised a brow, surprised that he was complying with her wishes so easily, without even a grumble. She shrugged, and wrote it down as a side effect of his lethargy and grief. She took out a kunai and began absently playing with it, twirling it around on the tips of her fingers, throwing it up and catching it.

"So," he said, trying to fill the void, "Orochimaru's back, huh?"

"Yep." At the mention of her former sensei whom she had adored, learnt everything from, and who had ultimately abandoned her, Anko looked impervious, but the special Jounin rarely showed her true feelings.

Genma sighed. Earlier on, she had made her paltry, yet well-intentioned attempt at making him feel better; it was his turn now.

"It must have been hard seeing him."

"Yeah, well. I was angry, scared, overjoyed, furious, nostalgic, jealous and on the verge of breaking down, but you know…Clause 25."

He nodded. He knew.

Shortly, she came up to the counter beside him and began dicing up the tomatoes while he saw about the bread and the ham. They worked in companionable silence until breakfast was ready: - omelettes, ham and toast, complete with a strong pot of coffee.

They sat down at the table. Anko ate like she did much of everything else; with gusto, relish and fervour. Genma ate quietly, smirking as his fellow Jounin praised his cooking, mouth full while moaning that it was almost as good as last night.

Genma leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing two fingers to a temple. Hayate, you idiotic bastard, he thought of the sickly, dark-haired Jounin. Why'd you have to go and get yourself killed? There was a black hole in his chest, a void that constricted and contracted, and it hurt so much.

Anko finished off with a small burp, and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes narrowed as she traced the rim of her cup with the tip of her finger, picturing the pale, thin face that she had last seen in the Forest of Death. Orochimaru-sensei, she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut, and swallowed a tear. Why did you have to do…everything?

"Hayate…" he muttered.

"Orochimaru-sensei…"she whispered.

Two pairs of eyes flew open, and they both sat up. They regarded each other warily, each expecting the other to abruptly burst into tears of sorrow and anguish.

Neither of them did, of course.

Genma coughed awkwardly as Anko stood.

"It's about time for me to get going…I've got a lot of work to do."

She went into the bedroom, got her shoes and a few other belongings. She paused briefly in front of the mirror to right her dark amethyst hair, and then emerged.

"Thanks for everything Genma; it was good."

He gave a small nod, a small smile.

She opened the door to the apartment, and paused.

"You know, that Clause…yeah, it's the rule, and yeah, it makes sense, but in some ways, it's so stupid."

He took a long draught of his coffee, and smirked.

"Is that why you seemed to disregard it so much last night?" Light crept into his flaxen eyes. "'A shinobi must not show emotion in any situation.' You sure showed a lot of that last night. Sobbed a few times too, I think."

Anko's mouth slowly curved into a smile, and soon was a full-fledged grin.

"I see you're back to your usual self. See you around, Shiranui."

She winked, and swept out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

END.