Naruto One Shots

Bruised (Shino Aburame)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pixiv Id]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,530

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Attempted Stabbing
- PTSD Attack
- Bruises
- I fully believe Shino's hair type falls somewhere on the high 3 to low 4 ranking and you can't convince me otherwise

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     "Akimichi-San," I try to coo, my hands up as I slowly approach the elderly man. The elderly man is still built like the brick he was during his Shinobi days. "It's alright, do you know where you are? You're at the Konoha Veterans' Retirement Center," I carefully explain, my eyes flickering from the active PTSD episode patient and my fellow nurses waiting on standby to interfere.
     "Stay back!" The man yells, waving around the butter knife he's clinging to. The butter knife he was just using to split the biscuit he was going to have with his supper. Why doesn't anyone listen to me when I tell them not to give Akimichi-San any sharp object? 'He hasn't had an attack in four months it's fine so we're sure he's fine'. Obviously not.
     "Alright, I can do that," I say calmly, stopping in my tracks. "Everything is alright, Akimichi-San. At the moment you're having a flashback episode. I assure you that you are safe, that your wife is safe, your kids and your grandkids. You're all safe."
     "Stay back you trader! How could you betray your village?!" The man barks at me, eyes locked on me as he continues swishing the knife around. "You... you mind technique Shinobis always try to get in our heads. I don't have a wife! Let alone kids! Your, your, your little mind tricks won't work on me, trader."
     "Akimichi-San - "
     "Stop calling me that! It's Captain Akimichi. I worked hard for my title, respect it!"
     "Of course. My apologies Captain," I mutter, slowly bowing my head in apology. "I assure you I am unwaveringly loyal to both our village and our squad, my Captain."
     The nurse in the door throws his hands up, a nonverbal 'what the hell?' shooting from him. I shrug my shoulders and use my eyes to send back a 'I don't know, I'm just going with the flow I guess?'
     "No. No, no, no. You are not one of mine. You're a trader. I trader I say!" I'm yelled at again, this time paired with the man charging at me. Before I have time to react I'm slammed to the floor, Akimichi-San on top of me trying to stab me with the butter knife. Thank the Lord my coworkers react unlike me, hands flying around his wrist to keep the knife away from me as they attempt to pull him off.
The pain rippling through my body is so overwhelming that it's almost numb like I'm stuck underwater as my patient tries to stab me to death. The noise of my coworkers yelling, of me being yelled at and called a trader is muffled like I can't exactly make the sound out unless I actively try to.
At least it's all numb until an elbow is stabbed into my rib cage, Akimichi-San trying to stay on top of me, threats of my bone snapping hovering just as much as he is. I swear, at the very least I better be sent home early because of this.

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     The more stairs I climb, the harder I breathe. The harder I breathe, the more my side hurts. They said my ribs weren't broken, but I don't exactly believe them at the moment. The pain rippling across my body, aimed at my chest sure makes it feel like something is broken.
     When I get to the top of the stairs - hunched over, panting for breath, and trying to will my body to stop hurting - the smell of cooking filters into the hallway. The single mother two doors down must be making her spicy curry again. It always makes the whole floor smell good.
I sigh as I dig through my pocket looking for my keys. The smell of cooking makes me dread the quick "just add heat" meal waiting for me. Shino has been busy prepping his students for graduation and I've been tied up at the Retirement Center pulling doubles and constant overtime. Our jobs haven't left us much time for each other recently, let alone the energy to cook or clean.
     The thought of our recked apartment only fills me with more dread. Our home most definitely has not been attended to in way too long. Though, since I'm on medical leave for the next week I suppose I'll have time to cook and clean for us. The thought makes the doctor's note ordering me to rest and take my pain meds burn in my pocket. I'll have plenty of time to rest. Spending the day tomorrow cleaning won't do too much harm.
...Or not.
When the door to the apartment swings open, I'm not greeted with the recent commonly placed piles of Shino's grading sheets, the occasional disregarded clothing, the layer of dust that's been building, and the small piles of nick-nacks dumped from my scrub pockets. The yummy scent coating the apartments' hallway seems to be wafting out from our home as well.
"Welcome home, Cricket," Shino mutters, tugging my attention toward the kitchen.
"You're home early," I call back, setting my bags down before my focus shifts to changing into my house shoes.
"I could say the same to you," he counters, walking out of the kitchen, and quickly beating me to the floor. Shino sinks to a knee, propping my foot on his bent leg so he can undo my laces for me. "I did not expect you for another hour or two. It's quite the damper on my day."
"How's it a damper on your day?" I ask, my eyes trailing after his movements. Foot propped, work shoe off, house shoe on, kiss, foot down, repeat. My lover has a bad habit of saying things that come off as mean without explanation; this is one of those times. It's taken some time but I've figured out he rarely if ever means it in a mean way.
"The reason being that I wanted to clean the bathtub before you got home. Everywhere has been cleaned but I've been putting off the shower. I also wanted dinner to be finished before you returned home," he answers, leaning forward to press a string of kisses to my knee before he sets my foot down. "However it is not the end of the world, I can still clean the tub," he adds, climbing to his feet before dusting off his pants.
"You cleaned the whole house, Shi, I can clean the tub," I counter, already heading towards the kitchen to grab the cleaning supplies.
He softly hums, a hand lounging forward to grab my waist. "No, I will clean the tub," Shino mumbles, pulling on me so my back collides with his chest. His head dips down, his nose sliding up and down my neck slowly.
My breath comes out rough, threatening to be a hiss because of his fingers digging into my side. "Okay," I mutter, my focus on not having a pain-filled break-down instead of fighting with him or the soft loving touch he's littering my skin with.
     Shino glances at me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes before he releases me, off to go clean the tub. He has the habit of feeling like he needs to do everything to show that he cares and I have the habit of fighting him on it, insisting that I'm capable of doing things for myself, the house, and us. After having him cling to my bruises, I hurt, and being hunched over the tub doesn't seem like the best idea to help with that pain.
     After a moment - and a pile of calming breaths - I make my way into the kitchen, nosing around to see what he's cooking for dinner. Karaage. I swear if I didn't know any better I'd think Shino is trying to make me plumper.
     "Cricket?" He calls the sound of his voice echoing through the house. "You should come sit with me."
     "Coming," I call back, turning on my heels to head toward the bathroom.