A Dash of Chili Powder

81

[Lol xD Something tells me he'd be a flirt anyway]

"Sharingan!" the redhead chirped, running her fingers through her ultra-long red hair, combing it out. 

Amaya huffed and hiccuped, too scared to move or do anything else. She was in so much pain on top of it. It was like sleeping was the only thing that made the sickness go away, but now that she was awake... Everything hurt and her joints were sore and her heart was still beating a million miles an hour.

She wanted it to stop. Since when did the great Chiyoye Amaya cry? Crying was a weakness. A damn weakness. Oh, how weak she must seem... 

The noises... There was too much noise. The smallest footstep was too much noise. It hurt her ears and scared her even more, her chest rising and falling quickly between her startled sobs. 

She wanted to scream.

"R-rage-kun..." she yelped quietly and raspily, substituting an obnoxious sound that would increase her fright level with a soft one.

Amaya just could not deal with noise when she was sleeping.

Gracie

Scythe blinked. "Sharin...? Oh! The one Vell-kun's brother has - Kakashi-san! You have it too?" He unconsciously glanced at both her eyes, but frowned when he realized something.

"Wait, which one's the Sharingan? Don't you have to cover that eye up?" he asked quizzically.

[Scythe's only knowledge of the Sharingan comes from what Vell's told him - and Kakashi's the only Sharingan wielder Vell knows. XD]

"R-Rage-kun...!"

...

Once Rage's heart had started back up again he carefully placed his hands on the tops of Amaya's arms, as if to steady himself. That tone... How can just one word make someone so...? Rage didn't even know what to call the feeling.

Awaji shrank a little, feeling awkward. Uh...I'm not THAT hungry... Using his assassin skills, the twelve-year-old made it quickly and silently to his' and Rage's room and shut the door.

Rage recovered after a few more seconds and looked down at the squashed purple hair crying in his lap. Well. He couldn't just leave her like this. Scooting over little by little, Rage finally took Amaya gently and tried laying her on her back on the couch. But her arms shot out and grappled around his neck instantly.

He sat there, hands idle, unsure what to do. The peach eyed teen grimaced. Lying down with her was EXTREMELY inappropriate. He was four years her senior. And those feelings invoked by her calling his name--

This could not happen.

Rage grunted softly if only to get her attention - his equivalent of saying someone's name - and tugged at her arms around his neck, leaning forward to get her back to lying on the couch.

[And Rage has never been this freaked out before. Panicky!Rage is fun to write for. >3]