Title:
Snapshots in a Photo Album
Rating:
PG
Pairings:
hints of AsuKure, if you
squint…
Word
Count: 616
Warnings:
allusions to sex and alcohol
Notes:
Written as a birthday present
for rurounigochan, who deserves much better. She asked for "a
drabble about one of Kurenai's birthdays (at any point in time of
her life you choose)." I'm not really happy with how it turned
out--I think I wrote myself into a corner with the rigid structure,
and I would have liked to include more birthdays and more people--but
oh well.
It's nearly summer, and Kurenai's hands are sticky.
There's ice cream on her kimono, and her father laughs while her mother fusses and scolts and tries to wipe away the strawberry smears. "Let her alone," her father says. "It's her party. You're only five once, you know?" He kisses his wife's hair, and then he picks Kurenai up and twirls her in the air, and she shrieks with delight. He kisses her sticky cheek when he sets her down.
She clings to his leg and tells him this is the best birthday ever.
-
It's nearly summer, and Kurenai's hands are sticky.
There's slime down her shirt, and the monster centipede is hanging from a branch over their heads, oozing slowly down. Kurenai wants to be sick, but Shinji is already in the bushes heaving his guts up, and Toboe is frantically trying to rinse the slime out of his hair with the water from his canteen, and neither of them is looking out for the other team of genin slowly creeping up on Shinji's left. There's just enough time for Kurenai to throw a genjutsu at their attackers and a shuriken at each of her boys, because things are not going to end like this.
And dying in their first chuunin exam would really make this the worst birthday ever.
-
It's nearly summer, and Kurenai's hands are sticky.
There's blood leaking between her thighs, and her teammates are carefully not-quite-looking at her as they drag the bodies closer to the fire and begin to search them. Kurenai pushes herself to her knees and watches them play hero, now that her part is over, and she refuses to let herself shake. She's not weak. She's not scared, or ashamed, and she'd take this mission again if the Hokage asked her to--
She doesn't even remember the date that officially makes this the worst birthday ever.
-
It's nearly summer, and Kurenai's hands are sticky.
There's wine spreading in her lap, and she dabs at it ineffectually because the bottle is nearly gone and it's a shame to waste what is left. The movement catches the attention of the man on the barstool beside her, and he tries to help her get her wet skirt off. Except there's a hand on his shoulder, big and strong, and a trench-knife tickling his ear, and Kurenai barely has time to grab the bottle and flip her money on the bar before Asuma's escorting her out. "You're too drunk to mess around with," he warns her, and she laughs and leans against him and asks him to help her finish the bottle at home.
When she wakes in the morning with the hangover from hell and an empty bed, she'll barely even remember why this was the worst birthday ever.
-
It's nearly summer, and Kurenai's hands are sticky.
There's puppy drool down her front, and while she can't say she's ever been particularly fond of puppies, she gives the panting animal a weak smile and Kiba a stronger one. "This is, um, sweet of you, Kiba," she tells him. "But my apartment's a little too small for a puppy to be happy--do you think I could leave him at your house, and visit him?" The kid nods vigorously, grinning so wide it takes over his face, and then steps back and shoves Hinata, stammering, forward, to give her gift. Shino lurks behind them with a neatly wrapped package, and even he steps up as Kiba lunges forward again and draps himself over Kurenai's shoulder to watch her open Hinata's present.
It's not really what Kurenai remembers of a family, but it's still edging towards the best birthday ever.