Work Text:
They were just two kids who happened to meet by chance.
Two kids who were experimented on, bloodied and beaten by their forebearers in an attempt to create a new weapon capable of killing more efficiently. Rin's body has been marked by it, a litany of glowing seafoam green seals carved into her arms and legs, curling lines drawing up to her center, to the point of entry on her chest where Kakashi's fist had punched through her core. Danzo-sama had wished her to wade through blood in payment for saving her life. She was, after all, a jinchuriki now. As Kushina-nii before her.
Minato-sensei rescued her. He found her file, he found what Danzo had been hiding.
She met Yamato while he was watching Kakashi's gaggle of kids while he was recovering in the hospital.
"A friend of Kakashi-senpai's huh?" He had asked, not making eye contact. His face was turned to hers, but he looked somewhere else. Her shoulder, the ground, just over her head. Anywhere but her eyes.
"Yes," she had nodded, "we were on the same genin squad. How do you know him?" She had asked, not missing how he addressed her friend as his superior.
"Oh, we collaborated together on a few missions." Yamato had said, and that was it.
He was stained by someone's hands. The Sanbi within her recognizes strange chakra about him, something almost familiar. The more she gets to know him—tagging along with the kids, begging her to hang out with them; the more she feels this strange connection with him.
She was partial to Kushina-nii's son, Naruto. Sweet boy. Stupid boy. He had her face.
"I'm the three-tails jinchuriki." She had confessed to him, over drinks. On a day when there were no kids and no Kakashi. They were off on another mission, without them. Tracking the Akatsuki, and she was stuck here, at least one of you must remain behind in Konoha, Tsunade-sama had said. They can't risk the Akatsuki gaining all the jinchuriki.
His eyebrows raise, slightly. He has a finger stuck in his glass of water, flesh slowly fading into gnarled wood, a root sucking up water without him having to imbibe the way the rest of them do. Mokuton. The Shodaime's ninjutsu. He looks anywhere but her eyes. Her shoulder, just over her head. Her lips. "Ah," he says, "that's why my chakra recognizes yours."
Kushina-nii once told her, after she had been retrieved by Minato-sensei, that her life was going to be hard. That it would feel impossible, sometimes. That she would want to give up.
"Fill yourself up with love." She had said, "The beast will want you to hate, so fill yourself up with love."
Rin has many things. A great best friend, a group of wonderful kids that she chaperones sometimes. Girls' nights with Kurenai and Anko, an apprenticeship with Tsunade-sama.
She's also pretty sure that she has a crush on Yamato.
They crunch through the snow together, wading through Konoha's icy streets. Chakra channeled to the bottoms of their feet, trying to keep from slipping. She almost did when she first stepped outside, only saved when Yamato's hand wrapped around her elbow and jerked her back before she landed face-first in the snow. She had laughed. He turned a faint shade of pink.
It's dark out. They stayed out too late. Konoha's streets still bustle with life.
"Man it's crowded," Yamato comments. There's an edge to his voice, despite the banality of the comment. He's not really fond of crowds. Rin takes his hand in hers.
They were two kids who met by chance, experimented on by their forebearers trying to create better weapons for their wars. Yamato had confessed to her what had happened to him in shaky, stilted words. Rin had told him about her rescue through tears.
("it—it was awful. i remember being in so much pain," she had confessed through angry sobs, "nobody would tell me anything. they would just stare down at me while taking notes."
yamato had enveloped her in a hug. he smelled like cedar and sandalwood.)
It's dark out. Rin wonders what time it is—the streets are normally clear this time of night, she was sure of it. The moon was high overhead.
They knock shoulders. Rin grabs ahold of his arm with her other hand as well. For balance, she tells herself. Yamato doesn't seem to mind.
"I think we're missing something," she says to him. They both spent so much time underground, being tampered with, toyed with, their insides turned out. Holidays were often lost on the two of them, though Rin tried to keep track. She kept a calendar tacked up in her apartment and she crossed off each day with a bright red marker. Some of those days had holidays marked on them. The last one was a few days ago, one she celebrated with Kushina-nii, with Kakashi and his gaggle of kids—so what was this?
"I think you're right," Yamato says in agreement, his statement punctuated with a nervous laugh.
There’s a sudden cheer from somewhere in the crowd—an overexcited group spilling out of the front of a bar. Everyone is hugging and kissing, and Rin realizes exactly what they’re missing.
“Oh! It’s New Year’s!” How could she forget New Year’s? “You know about New Year’s, don’t you?”
“I—I know about New Year’s!” Yamato insists.
Rin laughs. He’s so silly! His face is red, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Come here,” she says, unwinding one of her arms from his so she could beckon at him with one seal-laced hand. His red face twists in confusion, and she merely beckons him again. “C’mon! For the new year!”
The kiss they share is chaste and clumsy, and far too short for her liking. A crown of white-pink camellias burst to life upon his head for a brief few lustrous seconds before their petals flake off and flutter into the snow as he babbles nervously. Rin laughs and laughs.
The whole time, their hands remain firmly clasped.