The sun dipping low enough to scrape fire across Konoha's tiled roofs, the heat simmering soft and pink. It was when I finally turned to go home that someone else stepped out through the Academy's back gate.
The sway in her hips gave it away before the light even hit her. I raised an eyebrow. What is Anko doing here?
"Well, well," she drawled with a grin as she slinked over, toying with the purple fishnet sleeve slipping over her shoulder. "Don't tell me you're the one who finally got the princess off the swing?"
I gave her a flat look.
"Is that the new welcome mat for this place?" I asked.
First Natsu, now her. Do they hand that line out with the visitor pass?
She winked without shame, her mouth pulled wide with that absurdly toothy glee.
"What can I say?" she lifted both arms like she was reporting to no one and everyone. "It's the only thing around here that never ages."
I didn't bite. I'm not that old.
"What're you doing here?" I tilted my head in genuine curiosity.
She shrugged.
"What, a girl can't walk through one of the most traumatized buildings in Konoha for old time's sake?" she chirped. "Just soaking in the ghosts. The vibes. Letting their repressed little screams buff my skin."
I oversaw her for a moment. That was something... but not an answer. Barely tolerating kids, those were her words, and now she was strolling in a place full of them?
I didn't comment.
"Already had dinner?" I asked instead. Already had barbecue with the team, but will not be against another meal with her.
Anko raised an eyebrow, and with a magician's swirl of her sleeve, produced a half-eaten skewer of dango like it had materialized from chakra and mischief.
"I am dinner," she declared, sinking her teeth dramatically into a mochi ball.
I sighed. The kind that bends a little at the edges.
"…Of course you are."
I started walking, she made to follow. Konoha shifting around us in its early night glow.
"I noticed you didn't show up yesterday," I said as we passed a shuttered weapon shop, my eyes forward. My tone was off-handed, but I let it hang in the air. "Was wondering where you'd be sleeping tonight."
"Somewhere horizontal, probably," she said, keeping her voice airy, but with just enough weight behind it that I heard what she didn't say.
She stretched her arms overhead, a pop in one shoulder, then let them fall.
"I've got a place, don't I?"
I cast her a sideways glance, lips twitching. "I half expected you to run off," I said casually.
Anko chomped down on the last mochi ball and licked some syrup off her thumb with theatrical glee.
"Pfft," she scoffed, grinning like a snake about to shed. "You wish I'd be that easy to knock over. My uterus has a trap seal on it — goes off the minute you even think about calling me Mommy."
"Some poor kid's gonna be reading kinky forbidden scrolls by age six if you ever get broody."
"Oh, please," she smirked, eyes glinting. "If I ever breed—big if—it's gonna be a half-feral little maniac with a chakra allergy and your punchable smirk."
I snorted. "So me, but short and cursed."
She winked. "Exactly. The perfect excuse to ruin the next generation."
We bickered like that for another street and a half — something about her net bodysuit being a public threat to my self-control — but eventually, the pace settled. The giggles faded into that familiar, companionable quiet that only comes after years of fucking someone you trust enough not to talk.
Footsteps, breeze, the creak of leaf-laced rooftops in the wind.
A few blocks passed before I said, eyes still forward:
"I'm going to start taking field missions again."
She didn't answer right away.
Just… stopped for a fraction of a second. One foot hung in the air, like she was deciding whether to keep walking. Then, "…Fuck."
I glanced sideways at her, frowning slightly. "What?"
"I should've known." She didn't look at me—kept eyes ahead, voice flat at the edges despite her usual bounce. "Knew it was too peaceful lately. You get weirdly domestic when you're about to do something self-destructive."
I didn't understand what she meant by that. So I kept going.
"There's apparently a shortage. They're pressing jōnin back into rotation. I got the scroll today."
Anko sucked air between her teeth and clicked her tongue. That sound she made right before blowing something up or blowing off responsibility.
"Here I thought I'd slid my way to freedom." She swept one hand low, dramatically. "No more blood. No more guts. No more gods damned interrogation reports. Just annoying little brats and a sweet, easy life. Let gravity do half the work, y'know?"
She swore again, rougher this time, kicking a loose rock with her boot.
Stopping, I reached out, firm enough to make her blink, grabbing her arm, pulling her to face me. "Is that what this was?" I asked, quietly now but firmly. "The Academy, I mean. You were scoping it out?"
Her eyes flicked away, but her voice didn't twist. Still quirky, but now a shade too light.
"Oho. Serious Eishin. You trying to win a Jonin of the Year award or just trying to piss me off?"
I didn't blink. Didn't let her wriggle out. I held her gaze. She sighed.
"Fine," Anko finally said, shoulders sagging a little. "Yeah. I was just checking things out. Nothing concrete. Some old chūnin invited me to watch how they handle discipline structure in genin classes."
I didn't say anything.
She added, "Before you ask—no. Doesn't look like it's meant for me. I'm not built for that crap. Or maybe it's not built for me. And, apparently.... the world agrees."
This was a chance.
It was stupid, maybe, to want that for someone like Anko. But I want her off the field. Anything to keep her bones where they belonged. Anything to keep her heart somewhere that wasn't measured by kill-ratios.
I remember how it went on the show. Somewhere down the line, she ended up behind a classroom desk, wide around the hips and forgotten by the narrative. That wasn't fair to her, and honestly, it wasn't fair to me either. Not if I had any say in it.
She didn't need a war to realize she deserves a life outside the battlefield. She just needed someone to make it easier to say yes to a quieter path. So if that meant I nudged her toward paperwork and low-stakes missions, if I took the high-risk ones off her plate before she even saw them, I'd do it.
If she was ready… if she wanted to stop… I'd carry her kicking and screaming into that safety. Every time.
She didn't need to be a mother, though I still had my say in that. But I'd be damned if she died without choosing something warmer.
I'm selfish like that.
I tightened my grip on her arm—not painful, but enough to cut through the swirl of bullshit she liked to wrap herself in. Her gaze flicked to mine again, wary, faintly amused.
"Enough of that," I said, tone soft but firm like the last step before a scolding. "You can't make a judgment like that off just one visit."
Anko pouted her lip, mock-sweet, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh no, Eishin-nii is disappointed in me," she cooed, eyes bright and sharp. "Whatever will I do? You know, Eishin, I've got instincts for these things."
I didn't let go.
"You don't," I said. "No more than I did. I thought I'd be a crap teacher too. I'm shit with kids, or I was. Couldn't talk to them. Thought I'd burn out in a week." I tugged her a half-step closer by her wrist. "I gave it a shot, and it turned out to be… fun. Not what I expected."
She tilted her head slightly, watching me.
"Oh sure," Anko said with an exaggerated eye roll, her grin twitching at one edge. "But we're not all like you, Eishin. Some of us weren't born with a surprise 'dad gene' or whatever psycho impulse or kink makes you want to mentor little gremlins." She squinted, mock-suspicious. "If you liked it so much, why ditch it and go back to missions, huh?"
I couldn't tell her the truth. That the pay wasn't enough, and if I was going to put kids in her—and I damn well intended to—then it was on me to build the future they'd be born into. I'd carry the danger, the risk, the blood, and the burden.
That was my job. Not hers. So I lied, or half-lied.
"From time to time, I miss the rhythm of the field. Want to…. un-rust the bones a little."
Anko's smirk deepened.
"Ahhh, so it's 'muscle memory maintenance,' is it?" she teased, reaching out and giving my shoulder a light tap. "Then it's settled. We go back to missions. Together. You scratch your itch, I scratch mine. Partners, just like old times!" she said in that sing-song voice of hers.
I didn't buy it. "No," I said.
She blinked.
"You're staying," I added, firmer now. "You'll apply to the Academy. Become a teacher."
For half a second, we stood there, before her smirk flattened, then sharpened again, a glint sparking in her eyes like she'd just smelled blood.
"Or what?" she asked, yanking her arm out of my grasp with practiced ease, mouth curling into a dangerous grin.
And just like that, I was stuck.
Anko didn't listen to orders unless her knees were trembling and her voice was slurred with pleasure. She only obeyed me when I'd ruined her thoughts and turned her whole world to heat and moans.
But the mission starts tomorrow... Ah fuck it.
"Apparently," I said slowly, voice low and dry, "you're sleeping at my place tonight, huh?"
"Apparently so," she said, sounding almost cheerful—if cheerful had teeth and smelled like snakes. Then she elbowed me in the ribs.
We picked up the pace after that—neither of us acknowledging it, both of us moving faster, as if we slowed down, we'd have to say something softer. Her coat flared behind her with the wind, and my jaw was tight the whole walk back.
The door barely had time to thud shut behind us when I turned, closed the distance, and slid one hand up behind her neck. Fingers curled around her throat with practiced ease, pressure just enough to remind her who she let touch there. She didn't jerk away, didn't twist or growl or snarl. If anything, her lips parted a little, just slightly, the smallest exhale like maybe her lungs were about to slip into something less guarded.
She'd never admit how much she liked the grip around her throat. Hell, she might shiv me for suggesting it.
My other hand slid down between us, under her coat, seeking the familiar soft curve of her inner thigh.
Her voice, light and full of mockery, danced low in my ear, "Oh—so is this the start of the mission briefing… or are we improvising already?"
I didn't answer. Just leaned in and went for her mouth.
But she suddenly stopped me, palm flat against my face, pushing me back, harshly.
"When does it start?" she asked again, this time sharper, no slur or giggle, and no pout. Her voice was sober.
"…. tomorrow?" I said my fingers were already high between her thighs. Already brushing heat, hoping to distract her.
She didn't flinch, nor was she distracted.
She grabbed my arm.
Twisted it. Before I could blink, she'd peeled my grip off her throat, spun me around, and slammed me chest-first into the wall.
"You dumb, suicidal idiot," she hissed, pressing her body to mine only to trap me with it. "You wanna get yourself killed like that goddamn Tea Country mission? Huh?"
"It's fine," I grunted, half-smiling through my teeth. "The mission's a B-rank. And the only reason it's B is I have to wrangle some genin brats along the way."
She went still. Shit.
"You're dragging kids into it?!" she snarled in that sugar-venom voice of hers. "You fucking dick for brain! That's not a mission, that's unpaid babysitting with murder."
"See? You sound like a teacher already," I murmured. "Or a mom."
Her grip faltered, then released. I heard her step back. "This—" she waved vaguely in the air, "—this is what responsibility looks like, dick for brain. Something you're clearly losing."
That hit harder than the slam against the wall. I didn't say anything, just turned to look at her. She saw it—what she said landing deeper than she meant—and her expression shifted. Her eyes softened before sighing.
"You… need to prep," she muttered, turning. Anko didn't do apologies. Coat flaring slightly like a tail. "I'll let you—"
My hand shot out before she reached the door, before I realized what I was doing. Caught her wrist. "Stay," I said. "….please."
What the fuck am I…...
She turned, brows rising, and opened her mouth, but I cut in.
I held her eyes. "We're not doing anything. No sex tonight. Just… stay. We'll talk. That's all."
"This some new kink, Eishin?" she asked, voice lazy and laced with venomous mirth. "You switched to wholesome emotional edging while I wasn't looking?"
I smiled faintly, keeping the desperation off my face. "It must be the weather."
She held her pose for a long beat.
"Fine. But if you twitch the wrong way, I will blindfold you and leave you tied to your bedpost overnight with my snakes watching."
"Understood," I murmured.
I didn't know what that was, perhaps my cowardly bones speaking, but I hated the thought of sleeping alone tonight.
Anko curled up against me on the futon, while I wrapped my arms around her.
"I don't coddle," she muttered, words muffled as her head rested on my chest.
"If this is protest, it's a shit one."
"Sound keeps me warm," she said. "Shut up and say something stupid so I can fall asleep."
And I did.
I didn't know how to make her choose safety, but I knew I'd keep trying until she did.
That night, however, there was no sex. Just silence, and talk, and she pressed against me, limbs tangled. She complained, of course. But Anko did like coddling. She just didn't want to admit it. So I held her tighter.