Minato is as popular as always. Though in my opinion Sasori is cooler, just Saiyan! (High five if you got that overused DBZ reference.)
Disclaimer: I suppose since these are required, I must say, "I do not own anything of this fic but the idea!"
lxvii — succumb III
Kagome closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, the warmth of the water mollifying her. The rigidity in her muscles unfurled as she sank lower into the bathtub, and she continued doing so until only her neck and head were exposed to humid air. Many thoughts raced through her mind, some of them too stressful to be entertaining during an hour of relaxation. Hair that was lush and flaxen, the golden petals of a sunflower, flashed behind her eyes. Then a determined blue gaze, true as a midsummer day's sky. The smell of the woodlands laced with a personal masculine edge stimulated her nostrils. It was a phantom aroma just like the images she was seeing, but it made her restless nonetheless. All these wonderful things, the Yondaime Hokage possessed. He was the sunflower, the sky, the forest. Namikaze Minato.
She submerged herself completely, willing the heat to rob her of her thoughts.
—
Lowering his fingertips from his nose, Minato frowned as he studied the blood on them. There were several blots of red staining the parchment of paper he had been about to initial. He tilted his head back, pinching the soft part of his nose. A heavy throbbing then came along in his skull causing the man to wince. His pained eyes flicked over to the clock on his wall. It was three strokes past midnight. He hadn't even realized.
It had seemed a good idea at first to lose himself in his work. At least then he wouldn't have to think.
If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.
—Edgar Allan Poe
Author's Note: … More to come?