Chapter Text
The doors of the throne room flew open, and the room fell quiet. His fury cast a dark shadow over the small chamber. “What is this?” each word punctuated with the snap of deadly fangs.
The older woman who sat at the head of the table raised an eyebrow face blank “It is a royal proclamation.”
“Yes, I know that.” The prince was quickly losing his patience, “What is this about all eligible suitors?”
“It is exactly as it seems, young prince,” Lord Danzo smirked, “we seek for you a spouse of quality.”
The young prince slammed the crumpled proclamation enraged, dark wood splintering beneath his fist. “How dare you go behind my back about such things, you cannot simply force me into a marriage.”
“Ah but you see, we can, Prince Kakashi. We have given you ample time to seek out your own spouse and you have returned fruitless.” The woman smiled and the rest of the council straightened. “You agreed upon this.”
“I did not think-” Kakashi’s face fell into its usual cold stare schooling his expression, not allowing the council any further pleasure in his distress. They expected a prince above all else-
He did not have a choice, it seemed.
Iruka walked down the cobblestone path he had tread a thousand times, in perfect rhythm with the green-eyed man who walked by his side. The man whose companionship and presence had never waned, touching every aspect of Iruka’s life.
Iruka's feet struck the earth just a bit faster as the small market came into view, patrons bustling, friends chattering and children giggling. It was a place of life and movement. The small market, a warm breeze, ruffling the edges of Iruka’s stagnant life.
As they reached the wide square, the pair were forced to halt as lines of carriages’ rattled across the cobblestone, lovely opulent things they were, bronze and gold glittering under the high sun.
Mizuki scoffed as he clutched Iruka close in the crowd. “Look at them all parade in jewels and gold, flittering to win favor like little pests. If only people could see them as they really were…”
Iruka knitted his eyebrows at the odd statement, but when he went to tell his companion another interrupted.
“You are one to talk”, said an unknown voice.
Iruka's eye instead caught on the interloper, there was something about the tall lean figure that was strange. Iruka was lost to the mumbled tirade that Mizuki let loose and kept his eye fixed on the new man. He was so clearly out of place in this market crowd; his garb too pristine to be a traveler and covered from head to toe despite the summer heat.
A child bumped against the hooded man and their connection snapped. Iruka looked back at Mizuki for a moment, to see if he had noticed the strange air, but he was ranting. Iruka looked back at the man, but he was gone. Lost to the bustling crowd.
Iruka's head was on a swivel.
Mizuki’s mood had soured, face stern as he mumbled more to himself than to Iruka, “I have purchases that I must attend to, stick to the list, and I will find you later” he quickly pressed a purse of coins into Iruka’s hand without a second glance.
Iruka bid him a swift farewell, before moving further into the market, acquiring items as he strolled the lanes, sharing a friendly smile, or cheerful greeting. Iruka enjoyed the solitude of shopping.
Here he could let his mind wander as he perused the lovely trinkets, but there was a heavy mood upon some of the stall owners today.
"Have you seen it?"
"No, I haven't," Iruka heard a couple of the town gossips and could not stop himself from pausing to listen, though Mizuki would chastise him for eavesdropping.
"The creature has been around last night. I know it because my fruit is missing!"
"Fruit? What would a monster need with fruit?"
"Monsters gotta eat too..." The shorter woman shrugged.
Iruka almost laughed at the ridiculous conversation, but something about a monster lurking amongst the village shadows made it hard to make light of the situation. He should warn Mizuki.
Trying to shake the feeling that magic was involved somehow in this mystery, he decided to focus on his purchases.
Iruka flitted through a few stores, browsing through the fresh rows of flowers before settling upon the delicate ajisai. A few bouquets and the house would come to life. It took him but a moment to rummage through baskets of thread, intent on finding the perfect ivory of Mizuki’s slippers.
His list dwindling by the minute, Iruka let his eyes wander to the small collection of used books across the way. They were worn and torn, but Iruka cared not, each volume held something undiscovered.
“Umino, get over here I got something I think you will like.” A sharp dark hair woman beckoned from within the shop, face firm but eyes alight with amusement. “Have you finished the book from last time?” Not allowing Iruka a word as she continued unwavering, “I found myself enraptured by the intricacies afforded to regional folklore.”
Iruka hummed, pulling the book from deep within the woven bag. “Yes, absolutely interesting however how deeply can we rely upon the validity of a narrator who cannot tell water-hemlock from parsley…. Anyways, you truly should not be lending these to me for free.”
“It is no problem at all your mother would have had my head if I were to ever deny her son’s curious mind.” Yoshino’s face grew stern as she accepted the book, pressing another into his hand in return. “Please accept it, it gives me great peace knowing my greatest customer’s child follows close in her path.”
Iruka dared not argue further, expressing his gratitude before wandering further into the market stalls.
“Is there anything else I can assist you with today, sir?” The familiar shopkeeper appeared from the backroom, a crate of cabbages perched against his hip, preoccupied as he rummaged through a half empty box of pome.
A tension released in Iruka's voice, light and teasing as he fell into an old routine. “Do you have any ramen?”
“Iruka!” The man’s eyes were alright as he weaved through the rows of crates and barrels to reach the front desk. “How is my favorite customer? You have not been here in ages, and surely must be out of green onions. How about I throw a few in, on me?”
“Oh no, no sir I simply cannot accept that, I have a very specific list.” Iruka waved a small piece of paper, same as always.
The shopkeeper's smile dimmed a bit as he outstretched his hand, face expectant. Iruka blustered before handing over the list. Teuchi was friendly to most everyone who crossed his path but was not the type of man to dawdle. A quick scan and Teuchi was buzzing around the shop’s counter.
“I have been waiting for you to return, usually you are here like clockwork. Will it be months before I see you again? Surely you will need more than the rice you have listed here?” He hefted a large bag of rice onto the counter.” You look like skin and bones”
“Ah, no I am-” Iruka cut himself off, “I am worried about your back! That is so very heavy!” Iruka did not want to admit that he was worried about what Mizuki might do if he found out he was receiving handouts. But if he were to mention that he was only allowed to bring so much home, surely Teuchi would want to know more, and what if he asked Mizuki? Each scenario seemingly worse than the last.
“Iruka, you worry too much, I am not a decrepit old man yet!” He had already accumulated two more items from thin air. “Let other people do things for you.” A mournful look flashed his eyes, but for a moment.
Iruka stepped back in resignation, pushing away a moment of wariness at what the man had meant.” Would you at least let me help you wrap them?”
The man beamed as he slid a roll of brown paper and twine across the counter. “I think that can be arranged”
Iruka’s worry loosened, as silly as it was, the action brought him comfort. For it had been Teuchi who had taught him all the essentials of kitchen management when he had first lost his parents. Confused and dazed, he had wandered the market for hours, unsure where to begin. It was only when Teuchi had pulled him to the side, asking for an extra hand packaging a particularly large order for a client that Iruka was brought back from the murky depths of his grief. A request to busy idle hands, focus a lost mind.
Iruka had fumbled and failed over and over, paper torn, ribbon uneven, and creases wrinkled. Teuchi snagged him week after week, simple chatter flowing into broths and buckles, soaps, and stews. Teuchi inch by inch laid the foundation to no longer survive but thrive.
He smirked as snipped the twine, not an inch put to waste.
“Iruka! I have been searching for you.”
The memories faded as his fingers fumbled for his coin pouch. He was dawdling. Mizuki hated wasted time, specifically wasting his time. Mizuki now pressed close, hand loosely gripping Iruka’s arm.
“What is this?” his voice like a hiss.
“Are you a friend of Iruka?” Teuchi asked and eyed the grip.
“Don’t worry about it! Thank you for the food, sir.”
“What food? I asked you to get rice. Rice was what was on the list, simple as that, Iruka. Are you inept? Can you not follow simple instructions?” His grip tightens.
Teuchi’s gaze quickly flicked to the offending hand.
The vendor's brief glimpse did not go unnoticed as Mizuki’s grip tightened even further, fingernails biting at the soft flesh of Iruka’s arm. “We are not beggars in search of your pathetic handouts.” Mizuki carelessly tossed the cabbage into the dirt at Teuchi’s feet.
“That’s rude!” Iruka is outraged at the blatant act of disrespect but dares not to move.
Mizuki need not say a word, his glare speaking volumes. Iruka is unable to meet Teuchi’s eyes as he laid the coins upon the counter with a quiet thank you, quickly collecting the rice before Mizuki yanks him toward the street.