vermillion chapter 4

[tamlin_kitsune]

Title: Vermillion
Chapter: 4
Author/Artist: TamLin
Rating: T
Pairing: Minato/Kushina
Summary: bargaining his soul with a supernatural being was easy. Taking her clothes shopping afterward though was another matter entirely.

He woke up to find her perched on his windowsill. For a very long moment, he simply lay there where he’d rolled onto his side to face the rising sun and looked at her. Eyes bright in her pointed face she looked cheerfully back at him.

“Don’t I have traps set to keep people from reaching my window?” he finally asked calmly and her mouth curved.

“Your traps don’t work anymore.”

“Did you disable able them all for fun or is that vagary just in reference to you?”

“Yes,” was his bright answer.

He grunted and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. It was too early in the day for him to be having foxy conversations with an insane woman.

“I’m going to be getting a message from the hospital soon, hysterical, about the fact you’re missing, aren’t I?”

His back was toward her and he could still tell when she cocked her head. Her fingers scratched lightly behind her ear.

“Yes. Probably when they try to wake me up for breakfast.”

He grunted again and stood up. Usually wandering around in nothing but a pair of loose pants, his scars visible, would have been anathema. Especially in front of a woman. She wasn’t a real woman though and he couldn’t imagine that she paid any more attention to the way his body looked or the marks on it, than he paid to fox bodies in the rare times he saw them.

“Well, come in,” he muttered as he headed for the bathroom. “Just don’t touch anything.”

By the time he came out, more alert and ready to deal with foxy mischief, she was in the kitchen. Touching things. He walked over and reached over her shoulder to take the flour away from her that she’d been cautiously sniffing.

“No fox paws in the food,” he stated and moved around her to open the icebox. She’d obviously already been in there too but he ignored it and took out the eggs and milk. She inspected the eggs with a gleam in her eyes as he found the frying pan she’d already moved and turned on the stove.

“I like eggs,” she informed him as he took them deliberately away from her.

“I bet,” he muttered and she huffed laughter at him and went to perch on a nearby chair at the tiny table he usually ate at. Usually he’d be expected to keep up a running pointless conversation if he had a guest – one of the many reasons he didn’t have guests – but she was a fox and he didn’t think talking was first nature to her. So it wasn’t guilt but comfortable silence that settled in the room as he cooked the eggs and she watched everything he did with silent curiosity. Making breakfast, instead of catching it, was probably a new experience for her. He set the full plate in front of her and then fixed his own. To his surprise she waited until he had sat down and started to eat before she began her own meal. He watched her use the chopsticks from the corners of his eyes. She seemed to have the concept of them down solidly enough even if they shook a little in her grip from time to time.

He gave her what was left in the pan and she ate that too while he washed the dishes he’d already used. His kitchen, his apartment, was always spotless. It helped that he didn’t have much to start with. She was experimenting with the taste of the juice he’d poured for her when he took her empty plate away. From the look on her face, she was still apparently trying to decide if she liked it or not when he finished wiping everything off and sat down in the chair across from her again. He watched her roll the liquid around in her mouth for a little while and could easily imagine her tongue moving in quest.

“When you’re done, we’ll go buy you some clothes. And tell the hospital where you are so they don’t bother the Hokage.”

“Yondaime,” she had swallowed her mouthful and the word came out a little liquid and melodious with darker notes under it, like dark wine. The edges of his mouth twitched upward.

“Sandaime,” he corrected. “He’s the Third Hokage. We won’t have a Fourth Hokage until he dies or resigns. He’s training Orochimaru to be Yondaime Hokage.”

She shook her head, brows down.

“You’re Yondaime.”

His lips quirked a bit more and he shook his head as he stood and saved her from having to decide what her opinion of fruit juice was by taking the glass to the sink and dumping it out before washing it out quickly.

“I’m ANBU,” he responded. “I’m jonin rank. I’m Jiraiya’s pupil. I am not Yondaime.”

Her arms were suddenly around his waist and she was pressed into the hollows of his back. It surprised him though the only sign was the dip of his eyebrows. The strength of her arms and the way she held on to him surprised him almost as much as the touch.

“My Yondaime.”

There was even the rumble of a growl in her declaration and he found it had loosened the edges of his lips. She struck him as stubborn when she set her mind on something and he didn’t think this one was something worth trying to argue her out of it over. Very lightly he touched one of her wrists with a fingertip.

“All right. Not in front of others though.”

The last thing he needed was the Hokage thinking he had designs on the position. While Minato could be viciously, quietly competitive he understood when competition only caused problems. Her arms disappeared from around him as quickly as they’d come and she was across the room and twirling toward the door.

“Clothes,” she sang and he thought just about anything was preferable to the shapeless smock they’d given her to wear at the hospital. She shot him a look over her shoulder, gold eyes sparkles and added:

“Though wouldn’t you rather I not wear anything at all?”

He shook his head as he strolled over to her, catching up his shinobi vest as he walked to tug it on over his long sleeved shirt.

“It would certainly draw attention when you went outside,” he commented mildly, refusing to rise to what she was implying. She chuffed sounds at him of pleasure and spun along next to him as they went out the door and down the stairs, reminding him of the autumn wind in fallen leaves.

“You could just keep me in your room for always.”

“You’d make a mess.”

She caught his nearest hand in both of hers and snapped her teeth at him with a wide foxy grin. Despite himself, the edges of his lips quirked in answer.

He had thought he was prepared for clothes shopping for a woman. Granted, he’d never done something that lacking in self-preservation before but he’d heard enough horror stories to prepare himself mentally. She was either going to need to stop at every shop in the merchants’ district five times before deciding on a single piece of clothing or else she was going to dart in, grab the first thing she saw, and that would be the end of things. He’d been prepared to indulge a woman’s need to shop or else brace against the colorblind choices of someone that didn’t.

He hadn’t counted on the shopkeepers falling in love with his little fox.

It had started when she’d exclaimed in brilliant excitement over the soft feel of one of the shirts folded on a table and had rabidly spiraled so far out of his sphere of control he was still trying to figure out what had happened.

Now he stood somewhere outside of the circle of people that were swirling around his little fox as if she were the pin on a pinwheel. She was a princess as they tripped over themselves to show her their favorite and favored products but she was a desolate princess because she greeted each new offering with such unaffected delight and pleasure she dazed the bearers of the gifts. Standing outside the flurry of activity, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, back resting comfortably against the corner of the building, he realized he was smiling, just a little, at the picture in front of him.

It didn’t help that she made these impossibly adorable chirping sounds when something particularly delighted her.

“Namikaze – “

He turned his head and watched as Umino trotted over to him. The other man was cheerful but Minato appreciated the persevering nature that worked behind the smile as much as he enjoyed the fact he rarely had to feel guarded or awkward around the other man. Umino was chuckling as he came to a stop next to Minato.

“Is that the new girl from the Whirlpool Country?”

Minato made a noise and gave a nod, not bothering shift his stance and Umino slumped against the wall next to him. For a long moment, both men observed the chirping, smiling, laughing whirl of color and cloth that made up the fox and merchants. Minato turned his head when he heard a noise and noticed Umino chuckling quietly to himself. The other man caught his glance and shrugged.

“Well, she’s so thrilled, it’s kinda cute, isn’t it? No wonder they’re tripping over themselves. It’s like a kid that’s never been in a candy store before. You just want to show them how much fun it is, right?”

“The Whirlpool County’s a bit off the trade routes.”

Umino nodded with a smile.

“Guess she’s making up for lost time. Who’s paying for all of this anyway?”

“She hasn’t actually bought anything yet,” Minato pointed out, feeling a bit puzzled by that. He didn’t answer the question about where the money was coming from. It was coming from him. He certainly had enough of it between his natural tendency to live sparsely and to hoard against possible future emergencies, not to mention the fact he took missions, not when he needed the money, but every chance he got. While he was sure that the Hokage and the Council would provide her with a stipend until she either had a job of her own or her country turned out to still be standing and able to take her back, he didn’t feel right about that. She was here because of him. Getting someone else to pay her way seemed dishonest. He didn’t voice any of that however because a great deal of it wasn’t information he’d share anyway and the rest of it wasn’t information he was at liberty to share. That there was a new girl from the Whirlpool Country was going to be impossible to keep silent. Why she was here or what that meant though, he was fairly sure wasn’t general knowledge and he wasn’t going to contribute to it. Umino nodded again.

“Just as well. She’s going to break hearts unless she buys everything.”

The observation made Minato’s eyes widen fractionally despite himself and some of the color drained from his face. He could afford to clothe her. He couldn’t afford to buy the entire shopping district.

“Excuse me,” he straightened from the wall and left Umino chuckling as he waded into the rush of cloth and chattering merchant and hums of contentment over the feel of fabric. He caught the little fox’s wrist in his hand.

“We’ve got to go,” he decided and her gold eyes, too large and luminescent to be real, rose to his with an innocence he didn’t believe for a moment.

“But – “ she protested. He was already sorting through the piles of draped clothing and dropping bits and pieces of it into her lap.

“Buy these,” he told her and glanced over just in time to see her sneaking a skirt from a merchant’s arms into the pile he was creating. He narrowed his eyes and went back to selecting practicalities.

That skirt had looked far too short for safety too.

He felt a slight jerk and without looking knew she was using the hand he didn’t have trapped to snatch clothes from her new circle of admirers. He couldn’t bring himself to deny her the right but he also didn’t want to encourage either her or her new found friends and so he pretended he didn’t know what she was doing behind his back.

The pile they ended up with was larger than the one he’d contributed but he was surprised it didn’t seem larger by much. He made her carry it just to keep her arms full and her hands from finding more and steered her toward the counter to pay for it all. She wasn’t paying attention, chattering away happily – she knew most of the merchants’ names already? – and let him direct her where they needed to go. He helped the shopkeeper sort through the goods once they were safely at the counter.

“What’s this?” he held it up.

“It’s for you,” she told him with a smile.

“I don’t need a shirt.”

“It’s soft.”

He decided it was safer not to get into fox arguments and let it be added to the pile.

“What’s this?’

“It’s a shirt. For me.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks more like a napkin. A really, really small napkin.”

“You’re just jealous I didn’t get you one too.”

“What’s this?

“It’s a – I don’t know – “

With a snort that almost threatened to become a laugh, he tossed it aside.

“Take these,” he passed clothing into her hands. “Go change. I’ll finish up here.”

“Don’t throw out any of my stuff.”

“Go change.”

She nipped the tip of his nose with a grin and bounced off deeper into the shop to find the fitting room. Minato watched her go with an exasperated, and content, look. Then he noticed the sales clerk had stopped counting up the bill and was looking at him oddly. He gave her a blank look and she quickly dropped her eyes and went back to her tally.

“How – strange to see you here, Minato-kun.”

He turned to see a slender, dark haired woman with a soft smile on her lips.

Mikoto was one of the few people he found himself entirely comfortable around. He always had. She had lived in the house next to his family’s when they had both been children and was one of the only people that probably suspected anything. She never mentioned it though, not then and not now. He gave her a slightly embarrassed grimace; aware of the fact that some of the items he was buying were intimate despite the fact it hadn’t even occurred to him until a moment ago.

“Yes,” he managed.

Her eyes left his face to drift over the folded clothing the merchant was putting into boxes and bags for him and he watched her delicate brows sink slightly.

“You’re buying… clothes?” she finally asked. The situation finally made the edge of his mouth twitch.

“Yeah. I’m helping a friend.”

“Oh.” Her brows twitched briefly down again. Then she looked up at him and her gaze was almost sharp. He’d never known her to have any aspect of her personality that was sharp before. Unlike her mother… “It’s not one of the Hyuga girls, is it?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me about the Hyuga twins?” he blurted before he could stop himself and she covered her lips with her fingers and smiled. Even the woman behind the counter snickered and he shot her a slightly annoyed, slightly mystified look.

“Sign here,” the store clerk pushed the logbook across the counter at him and he scribbled his initials next to the amount. Since he wasn’t about to keep his money in a box in his room or the lining of his mattress, he left it with one of the Hokage’s secretaries instead. Quite a few shinobi did. His mark would let the secretary know to give the appropriate amount to the shop owner at the end of the week when the bills came due. It was useful because it meant he didn’t have to carry large amounts around with him, but it was in place because too many shinobi were usually out on missions when simple things like rent came due. It also kept their money safe for their next of kin when they didn’t make it back.

“All right, I figured it out.” His little fox suddenly appeared next to him. “The ties are funny though.”

He looked down at her and had to admit… it looked better than the smock they’d had her in before.

Much better.

The tank top was a simple cut that formed a v in the front and scooped a little in the back. Her pants were black too and fell just below her knees. She’d pulled her hair back with a black ribbon he didn’t remember buying for her and it hung in one long rich foxtail down her back, swinging each time she moved or spoke in emphasis of her point.

“They go this way,” he explained calmly, reaching down to cross the ornamental black ribbons that laced down the side of the top. She’d simply threaded them across and so he unthreaded them now and slipped them through the proper hoops, tying them off with an efficient knot that would keep them in place. She raised her arms over her head and spun for him and he bit back the smile as she presented her other side to him and he repeated the process. She made little huffing noises on the second round and he realized she was ticklish.

Releasing the ribbon after it was properly tied, he straightened… to find Mikoto watching him with the strangest look on her face. For some reason it made him feel strangely self-conscious.

“What?” he asked her. His bland question seemed to snap her out of whatever had been going on and she shook her head.

“Nothing. This must be the friend you were telling me about?”

“Yes,” he remembered his manners and was ashamed that he’d forgotten. “This is Uzumaki Kushina. She’s here from the Whirlpool Country. Kushina, this is Nara Mitoko, an old friend of mine.”

“She looks young,” the fox offered. “She can’t be that old.”

He shot her a look but she was smiling at the other woman.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been hoarding Minato to myself for quite a few days now, haven’t I? I didn’t mean to keep him from his friends. Friends are important too.”

“Oh, no. No, it’s not like that.” Mitoko’s soft voice was apologetic. “Minato-kun’s like the wind. He comes and goes and we simply enjoy him when he’s there.”

“Funny,” his fox turned to him with her hands on her hips. “Because he hasn’t left me alone since I got here.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, because he knew she was up to something even if he couldn’t figure out, yet, what it was.

“You haven’t exactly protested,” he warned, voice low and inflectionless. She surprised him with a burst of sunlight grin.

“No,” she agreed cheerfully.

“I have to go,” Mitoko interrupted politely and Minato turned his attention back on her. She was sorting through the contents of her basket though and he couldn’t make out her eyes. “I only wanted to stop by to greet Minato-kun.” She looked up then and gave him a soft smile before turning her attention on the fox. “It was nice to meet you. I hope I will see you again.”

“You will,” the fox assured her with a bright smile. “And we can leave everyone else behind and tell each other horrible made up secrets about them.”

She said it so enthusiastically that Mitoko smiled.

“Yes,” she agreed. “That sounds fun.”

Minato turned around to pick up the bags as she left and caught a look from the sales clerk behind the counter. It stated that he was an idiot male. He turned back to the fox.

“What was that about?” he asked calmly as they proceeded to leave the shop. She gave him a wide-eyed look that earned her a flat one in answer. She made an annoyed huffing sound.

“You humans are so strange. Why does she smell of the need for you when she already has another male’s scent on her skin?”

Comments

[parapluies.livejournal.com]

EEEE YOU POSTED IT HERE!!! XDD

[kitsune13-tam.livejournal.com]

heh - yeah. I figured I'd put it up here too. Poor thing can use any love it can get ;) That and I want to give perks to anybody that follows me from ffnet to LJ just for going the extra mile and making the effort. I've got a ffvii story in the works that I'll be posting up here in a couple of days too :D

This is turning into my 'sneak peek' page ;)

[parapluies.livejournal.com]

Yaaay I can't wait! xD