blueeyedflyboy (blueeyedflyboy) wrote in strangergamesrp, @ 2012-11-30 19:25:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | balfour vallet, kamizuki izumo, log, shiranui genma |
[Log] What Fresh Hell Is This?
Who: Kamizuki Izumo, Shiranui Genma, Balfour Vallet
When: November 1
Where: Izumo and Genma’s room
What: Balfour wakes as a woman, doesn’t take it well, and retreats to Izumo’s room to find that he has to be the strong one this time...
Warnings: Izumo, talk of abuse
Open or Closed: Closed
Observable: Nope
Something was wrong. That was what woke Balfour. His shirt--too large, usually--was a bit too tight in the chest, only fitting loosely like it was supposed to around his shoulders and waist. HIs pants were also too loose, rucked down where he had tossed and turned over the night.
Grumbling irritably, Balfour peeled the shirt off, assuming that it was tight because it was twisted. It was then that he realized that something was very, very wrong, worse than he had thought.
He had breasts. And, upon further investigation, no penis.
Oh no. No. This had to be some prank--only Izumo had said that with the illusions, they were only visible, not palpable, and the breasts Balfour was poking at with a terrified look on his face were there bouncing and squishing with each poke.
He shuddered.
"What fresh hell is this?" he muttered to himself, getting out of bed and grabbing a belt and a pair of pants that had fit--they were now a touch too loose. He cinched the belt tightly around his newly thinned waist, looking down at himself. His hips were rounder, but thinner now, and his thighs were a bit too wide to fit into these pants. He didn't care, nor did he care when he put a proper shirt on and it bound his chest again. At least they weren't bouncing around anymore.
He needed to find out what was going on, because he had a vagina and that was not okay with him. He wasn't supposed to have one!
He needed to see Izumo. It had to be some prank and he would know what was going on.
"Please let it be a prank," he pleaded as he headed out the door and down to Izumo's room.
Izumo was curled up on the bed, drowsing faintly. He was sedated and incredibly sleepy. Genma had gone to get...get...something. Food, maybe. Or was it tea? Izumo couldn't remember but didn't exactly care right now. Izumo was wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket in the sunshine, with a few pillows to snuggle too. He was breathing slow and deep, damp and clean but so very very tired.
Balfour knocked nervously, biting his lip as he did so. He hoped Genma wasn't there, hoped that he wouldn't see him like this. This was wrongwrongwrong.
"Izumo..?" he called, his voice too high, too wrong. No. He cleared his throat, tried again, but it was still wrong.
No. He couldn't freak out. Izumo didn't need that. He took a deep breath and tried to settle himself, staring straight at the flat wood of the door, forcing his shoulders to relax. Calm. Calm.
Izumo heard the knock, but didn't exactly have the coordination to get up and open the door. He made a soft noise, but no more, and curled tighter around his pillow.
Balfour had heard the soft noise, and hoped that meant 'come in' because that was what he was doing. He needed Izumo.
So he opened the door slightly, still mostly hidden behind it, not looking down or around the room, still staring straight ahead.
"Izumo. Something is wrong. Please tell me this is just a prank. You have to know something..."
He was scared and that much was clear just in the tremor of his newly feminine voice, not to mention how his eyes--larger and rounder, but still just as blue--were somewhat glassy. The dark hair that hung messily around his face, falling on his shoulders but no further, showed that he had just woken up.
Izumo lifted his head slowly. The button-up shirt he was wearing instead of a T-shirt gapped open. His face was narrower, his lips fuller, and the generous rounds of his breasts showed in the gap of the shirt. Mismatched eyes blinked hazily at Balfour, not-quite focused.
“Mmm?” he murmured, softly.
Balfour startled when Izumo lifted his head and it wasn’t a him, but a her, suddenly thinking maybe he had gotten the wrong room, but then when he caught sight of the mismatched eyes--oh those eyes still made his heart leap--and his whole face crumbled.
“Why are we women, Izumo?” he asked softly, voice trembling a bit. “Why do I have a vagina? What happened?”
Because apparently it was Izumo, too. Izumo was turned into a woman too!
Izumo made a soft noise, and slumped against his pillow, one drowsy green eye staring blankly at Balfour. Friend, yes, good, yes, sleep dragging hard at the weariness. He yawned, tongue-piercing glinting. He laid his head down again.
Balfour watched him for a moment, then slipped in, snapping the door shut and hurrying over to kneel by him, fingers going to his shoulder, along his back, and he shifted down to wrap an arm around him, hugging him tightly as he could.
“Well...the good news is that you like boobs?” he said softly, trying to make a joke and failing. He didn’t continue the joke, his voice having wavered too much before.
“Mmm.” Izumo shifted, squirming against the tight hold. He worked his way loose, then reached out a blanket-covered arm and draped it over Balfour. He leaned against him, head lolling limply against Balfour’s shoulder.
Balfour put his arm around Izumo again, but this time just let it rest there, the only tightness being his hand gripping Izumo’s shirt. He shuddered a little bit, but kept silent. Izumo was trying to sleep. Balfour knew he needed to sleep as well--it was still early, after all--but he kept kept having to shift and adjust and finally he had to reach up and adjust his boobs with his hands.
Those were annoying.
Izumo sighed softly and drooped against Balfour, muscles lax, body heavy. His breathing was slow and deep, his chakra dead quiet. He was pretty much one with the bed and the blankets, and his arm over Balfour was heavy.
Balfour closed his eyes as well, trying to get himself to relax, but the shuddering didn’t stop. At least Izumo didn’t seem to care. Izumo was just tired. Balfour had woken him up, so they were going back to sleep just like any other day...
...except that any other day, Balfour wasn’t so afraid of something that there was no way of fixing. He didn’t understand it.
He didn’t even realize when the tears started leaking from his eyes. He only shifted a little lower, scooting so that he could hold Izumo better.
Izumo shifted and patted Balfour on the head, a little sloppily. “Nnn,” he managed, a soft slurred noise. A lazy little tongue-lick swiped away a tear from Balfour’s cheek.
Balfour blinked a bit, letting out a soft sound similar to Izumo’s, and tilted his head, lowering his nose to Izumo’s hair.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.
Izumo snuggled closer, head sagging, body going boneless as he slid into drugged sleep.
Balfour settled a little bit and snuggled close. He sighed, relaxing with him. At least this hadn’t changed. They might both be women quite suddenly, but at least the cuddling hadn’t changed. He sighed and smiled softly, closing his eyes once more to fall asleep.
When Genma came back to the room, his arms were full. He had to do a bit of juggling to get the door open, but hell, he was a ninja, so of course he made it look good. When he actually got the door open, however, he was a little surprised to find that his roommate - who he had so helpfully drugged up before leaving - wasn’t the only one in the room.
A first impulse to be protective of Izumo was immediately set aside, since there didn’t seem anything particularly threatening about someone curled up asleep with him. And while he didn’t recognize the woman, that didn’t necessarily mean anything, at the moment.
So Genma simply walked into the room, closed the door behind himself, and moved to start unloading his burdens: a tray of food, two big mugs of tea, and a small armful of clothing. The clothing had been something he’d had to take a few more minutes to acquire - and trade a promise for - but if Izumo was more comfortable, he could certainly deal with that.
“Anyone awake?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet, as he set things aside.
Balfour’s eyes fluttered open as he heard footsteps, twitching a little bit at the sudden company. He curled a little more around Izumo, a little more protective of him. But it was Genma. Genma was safe, trusted.
“Hey,” he whispered, offering a little wave. “Izumo just fell asleep not too long ago. I think I woke him up when I came to find him.”
He didn’t look up, afraid to look Genma in the face, afraid to be recognized--wait, had Izumo recognized him? He hoped so--afraid to be teased for what had happened. But then again, Izumo wasn’t angry, just sleepy, like after he had taken his medicines.
“I can’t sleep.”
“He should be asleep. I had to give him sedatives earlier. He’s freaked out on me twice already,” Genma said, rather matter-of-factly. He was fully aware now who he was speaking to. It wasn’t that he could tell by looks, but there was only one person he could think of who would be here, like this, now.
Instead of speaking the name, though, he stepped over closer to the bed, leaned over, and pressed a kiss against Balfour’s forehead.
“I don’t know if I would be able to sleep either, if it were me. It’s not just you two either, I don’t think. There’s talk. Would you like some tea?”
“He’s not the only one,” he muttered somewhat bitterly, his voice pitching a little bit lower, a little closer to his usual voice. Still wrong, still horribly feminine, but he was getting used to it. The more he talked, the more familiar the sound of his new voice was.
He closed his eyes at the forehead kiss, trembling slightly even still. Only his face was showing past Izumo, the rest of his body sort of blocked by ninja arms and ninja legs and ninja torso. His hands were disturbingly glove-less, which only made him more antsy. His brother’s gloves didn’t fit, nor would any of the other gloves he owned. Revealed were delicate, pale, artists’ hands, long and thin, somewhat similar to his own in his own body.
“I...I don’t know if I can get up. Do you know who’s done this?”
“Izumo-octopus,” Genma said sagely. He gave his best reassuring smile, despite the fact that Balfour wasn’t really looking. It was important anyway. He’d learned that so long ago. Tone was easier with the right expression, whether anyone could see it or not.
“I don’t know that. I didn’t really take time to stop and ask everyone questions - didn’t want to leave Izumo-kun alone that long - but I did borrow him some clothes that would fit and get food and tea. And heard some other people talking about similar circumstances.”
He sighed. “Izumo couldn’t even stand up earlier. Kept overbalancing himself. Then just... totally lost it. Twice. I gave up on talking him down the second time.”
His voice held some serious concern. “I guess they thought I wouldn’t make a pretty girl. Or picked people they thought it would freak out the most.”
“Yeah, he is an octopus, isn’t he?” Balfour said fondly, shifting so that his face was partially obscured by dark hair. “I understand why he was upset, somewhat. These bodies, they’re wrong.” His voice tremored there, so he just let it go.
“My clothes don’t fit great, but at least they fit somewhat. I don’t mind that my shirt’s a bit tight. It keeps things from bouncing and keeps me from thinking too much.”
He hated it. He wanted out of the body as soon as possible.
“And I don’t know. You’d make a handsome girl, in my opinion. One who could give some of the men I worked with a good run for their money, at least. You’d put Rook in his place, for example, if he slapped your ass and called you something dirty, wouldn’t you?”
He smiled a little bit into Izumo’s hair, and once it felt right on his face, he aimed it up at Genma, the soft curves of his new face taking well to the fake smile, making it look sweeter, more real.
“I’d probably look like one of my sisters. We already kind of looked alike. The question is, would I look like the one that got curvy later or the one that worked off every ounce of body fat training too much?”
He laughed, though there was a touch of trying-too-hard to it.
“Depends. I wonder if Izumo will get his ninja-moves back, if he gets used to that. If it lasts that long, that is.” He kept his voice quiet, took a seat on his own bed, and slid out a senbon to place between his teeth. He’d had one, outside, and put it away at some point while trying to juggle everything.
“Scary part to me is what else they can do if they can do that.”
“Probably the one who worked all the fat off of her body,” Balfour said with a quiet laugh, the same note of trying-too-hard gracing it as well. “I don’t look anything like my sister. She was rounder and blonde.”
And though Balfour was round as well, he wasn’t quite the same kind of round and squishy that Carina was.
“And he probably will. It’s kind of like a saying in my world: “Once a soldier; always a soldier.” I assume that means those who are soldiers at heart, though...” He shrugged one shoulder, the only one he could get to move past the Izumo-octopus wrapped around him.
“And honestly? I don’t really want to find out what else they can do. Forgive my crude language, but I would very much like to not be missing my penis right now. Or. Well. My body at all. I don’t like having boobs. And I have to sit.”
So inconvenient. But he looked somewhat amused rather than panicked, so it was clearly easier for him to joke about it all.
“I’d like to find out why, though.”
“Motive is a hard one here.” Genma sighed, set the senbon aside again, fidgeting. He reached for one of the muffins on the tray instead, took a bite out of it, and chewed thoughtfully.
“You’d think if they just wanted to set up some mud wrestling in the arena, they’ve got plenty of women around already. It’s not like there’s any shortage of them around here; I’ve seen how many of them hang off Izumo-kun. And they could have more nefarious plans, but... from what Gin Charlie said and what I’ve seen looking around, systematic abuse of that type doesn’t seem like a thing. But what other benefit would there be to something like this?”
Pause.
“Maybe they just think it’s funny to shake people up.”
"Maybe, but it's very rude! They should have warned us beforehand," Balfour grumbled, shifting and tugging at blankets, hiding his and Izumo's bodies better. So protective.
"Do I look like myself? Is that how you knew it was me?"
He didn’t think he looked like himself, not really, too thin-faced, eyes too big, voice all wrong, but maybe he did look somewhat like he used to. Genma wouldn’t have recognized him otherwise--or so he thought. He wasn’t accounting for the fact that his behavior patterns were very much the same.
Genma snorted. “Not that I notice, no. Which I find strange, really. Izumo’s changed a lot too, just to look at him... even not considering his silly henge habit, he’s different in ways that don’t necessarily have anything to do with being female. Which is something else I wonder about too.”
He considered for a moment whether he really wanted to say how he’d recognized Balfour, then shrugged his shoulders, finished his muffin, and wiped his hands on his pants messily before reaching for a sketchpad near him. He flipped through the pages, came up with a drawing of Balfour and Izumo curled up together, and held it up facing Balfour across the space between the two beds.
“There are only two people I can think of who treat Izumo quite that way. Protective and tender like that.”
“He’s my closest friend,” he said softly when Genma showed him the drawing, his arms tightening slightly and head lowering. He didn’t even notice he was doing it, just hugging Izumo that little bit tighter. He didn’t know how else to explain how he felt about Izumo. ‘Closest friend’ was about as close as he could get, as close as he dared, and for him to be so protective of a dear friend, well that wasn’t so terribly strange, was it?
“Nice to know that some aspects don’t change, at least...” But he did wonder what about Izumo had changed now that Genma had mentioned it.
“I’d like to think they can’t.”
Genma sighed softly, turned a page in the sketchbook, and dug out a pencil. He started to draw the two female bodies across from him, trying to accentuate parts that reminded him of the people currently wearing those bodies, the ones he’d drawn so often before. Izumo, particularly, was starting to take up huge chunks of his sketchbooks, and it felt strange to be drawing him this way.
“Change the important things, I mean. But it’s very strange... you’d think if it was just about making you female, you’d just look like a female version of yourself. But that’s not the case at all. Particularly not with Izumo there.”
What he really meant by that was that the rather large breasts very much didn’t fit Izumo’s previous body type at all; he should definitely have been a more athletic woman.
Balfour closed his eyes, fingers tangling in the ends of Izumo’s hair, the soft locks comforting and protective over his hands. The only contact with another person he wanted at the moment was with Izumo, and the hair over his hands ensured that if Genma did touch him, it wouldn’t be direct. Almost like gloves. Not good enough, though. He needed some, later. Later.
“I suppose you’re right. I don’t think it would be...good, if all the important things about someone changed. Sort of makes you wonder about that person.”
Izumo wouldn’t change; Balfour was sure of that.
“And I’m not sure what you meant about the female version of yourself...” And he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand, either.
“I mean, Izumo could barely stand up. He’s a fucking ninja, and they didn’t just make him a female ninja. They didn’t give him a useful body. Or at least not one that seems to be so far.”
He could be making snap judgements based on the initial reaction Izumo had, he realized. But the fact that Izumo’s face had changed so much...
“And things like scars too. It’s just strange. It’s not just being female, it’s looking completely like a stranger.” He shook his head. “But if they can change bodies like that, can they change minds too? I don’t see what’s stopping them from doing so.”
“I don’t think they can change minds,” Balfour said stubbornly. He didn’t want to think they could change people’s minds, change their personalities, turn them into completely different people. He didn’t like the idea that, suddenly, someone could change, someone could hate him for no other reason than...whatever the reason was for the sudden change in bodies.
“And I’m sure Izumo will get used to his body. He’s adaptable.”
“He is that.”
Genma laughed, offered a sheepish smile, and reached out for a senbon to place between his lips again.
“I’m probably not helping anything, am I? I guess I’m more worried about him than I thought.” He paused, wrinkled his nose, and added. “You too, obviously. But I didn’t have to deal with you hyperventilating on me twice today.”
“No, it’s nice to know someone cares about him,” Balfour said softly, snickering a little when he realized that he sounded like a brother more than a lover. It was the truth, though. Someone else cared about Izumo and was willing to watch after him. It really did make him feel a lot better.
“As for me, I sort of got my hyperventilating over with before I came here. I don’t...like being a burden to him, you know? He doesn’t need to deal with me freaking out, especially since he hadn’t taken too well to the change, either.”
Genma raised an eyebrow. He had to admit that he was impressed. He had to admit that as much as he liked Balfour, he hadn’t necessarily thought of him as in any way an equal. He didn’t think Izumo did either, though he wouldn’t say such a thing.
But that kind of strength for someone else was impressive and important.
He gave a slow appreciative nod.
“That’s how it’s been for me with him, usually. Though sometimes I fail too. But you know, if you need someone to fall apart on later, when he’s stable, I’ll be around.”
“Thank you, but it’s fine. I’m alright now,” he said softly. Well, he wasn’t lying. He was okay, for now, while everything else was the same. He was tangled up and trapped in Izumo’s bed, talking to Genma, and it was as if nothing important had changed. As long as he didn’t think too much about the breasts on his chest and pressing into his torso.
“What kind of food do you have over there? Anything that doesn’t crumb all over and can be eaten with one hand?” he asked with a laugh. He was hungry--his stomach growled to point that out--but he didn’t want to disturb Izumo.
Genma eyed the tray, then Balfour’s position, and grinned.
“Well, I do have your favorite, if you think you can eat them without making a mess. I wouldn’t suggest the muffins if you don’t want crumbs though.”
He rummaged around the tray a little, tugged out a couple of rice balls, and pushed himself up to step over and hold them out toward Balfour. Just out of reach.
Balfour grinned when Genma pulled out a couple of rice balls, his whole face brightening--see, another thing that hadn’t changed--and he shifted a bit, sitting up slightly, not noticing that the Izumo-octopus attached to him was dragging his shirt down a bit.
“You’re my hero, Genma,” he said, relieved, holding out his hand for it, big blue eyes pleading and thankful all at once.
What Balfour’s pulled-down shirt was revealing really didn’t have any effect on Genma. The puppy eyes though?
Well, that was a whole other matter.
He smiled playfully, used his free hand to swipe the senbon from his lips, and leaned down.
“Trade you for a kiss?”
It didn’t even feel strange to be teasing his friend so in a female form, or to be doing it over sleeping - drugged - Izumo’s head.
It was awkward to be flirted with in such a manner, but there was food involved, so he nodded and grinned.
“Sure. That sounds like a good trade,” he said softly, tilting his chin up a bit. Would it be different? He didn’t know.
Genma smiled, leaned down just a little further, and pressed his lips against Balfour’s gently. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, or press too hard, or anything of the sort. After all, it was mostly teasing. If he were honest about it, some portion of the reasoning was to make himself feel normal.
But he didn’t really want to think about that.
Balfour smiled into the kiss and pressed a little firmer, but kept it chaste and merely friendly, something you would see among family, perhaps. The kiss only reminded him that things were strange, but hey, at least Genma was a good friend enough to pretend that things weren’t strange.
“Can I have the food now?” he asked.
Genma rolled his eyes as he straightened, then dropped the rice balls into Balfour’s hand, reaching up to place his senbon in his mouth again. He eyed the edge of Izumo’s bed as if he might sit there, then took the few steps back to his own again instead.
“ Eat. Enjoy. Do you want me to bring you tea as well, or would it likely just get dumped on poor Izu-kun’s head?”
“Thank you,” Balfour said, unwrapping the rice ball carefully, and then holding it off to the side as he nibbled at it. When offered tea, he shook his head.
“Oh, I don’t want to take the chance of spilling it. It’s alright,” he said, flapping his hand a little, the one that remained on Izumo’s back.
Instead, he munched on the rice ball, stomach quite happy with that.
Genma finally gave in and took the cup of tea for himself. He’d originally gotten one for him and one for Izumo, of course, but he’d politely decided Balfour should have one instead. Since Balfour had turned it down, he figured he could drink it without feeling too bad. Even if it was sort of lukewarm now.
He considered for a moment whether it was really worth wasting chakra on to heat, decided against it, and took a sip anyway.
“He shouldn’t be out too much longer, I’d hope. I was gone for a while looking around and getting things. Talked to a few people and such.”
“You find out anything interesting?” he asked softly, shifting to tighten his arm just a little bit around Izumo’s shoulders, not noticing that he was doing it. The mention of Izumo seemed to be what was causing it.
Izumo stirred, pushed a little at the tightening hold, and lifted his head. He blinked at them both, head wobbling a little.
He looked at Genma. “Genma, make it better. I look just like her now,” he whined, voice drug-blurred. “He’ll be madder and it’ll hurt.”
Then he laid his head back down.
“If anyone hurts you, Izumo, they’ll die slowly and painfully at my hand.” Genma didn’t wait to try to parse what Izumo was talking about until the threat was already out of his mouth. When he did manage to work it out, he paled and it took a visible effort to stay calm.
“And he’s dead anyway. If he showed up here, he’d be dead. Again and again.”
“And I’ll help any way possible,” Balfour whispered, giving Izumo a gentle squeeze before running his hand along his back. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, either.”
He didn’t care what the cost was to him. All he cared about was that Izumo was safe--and he was, for now.
“No one is going to hurt you.”
Izumo shifted uneasily. “Dead, dead, he’ll hit me again, dead....” he sighed, and sagged boneless again, heavy and tired.
That was about all Genma could take from across the room. He set aside his sketchbook, rose gracefully to his feet, and closed the space between the two beds. He dropped to his knees on the edge of Izumo’s bed, reached out, and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, gently.
He didn’t look at Balfour, beyond seeing where he was on the bed to be sure he didn’t hit him, and he didn’t try to get between the two of them, simply found a place to rest his hand on Izumo and did so.
A gentle flow of soothing chakra spread out from his hand.
The words hurt, hurt just as badly as if it were Balfour getting hit instead of Izumo. He made a soft noise, biting at his lip and squeezing a little tighter.
Never again. Never again.
But he couldn’t promise that, couldn’t say that he could protect him. He would do his best, of course, but he couldn’t protect him. Not like Genma could.
“He’ll be okay soon, right?” he asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Izumo’s head.
Genma shrugged his shoulders, peered at Izumo as if trying to decide something, and then spoke very quietly.
“As okay as he ever is, I guess. But this is obviously very upsetting to him, and it’s not something I can fix.”
He nodded toward the slight glow around his hand where he touched Izumo, offered a wry smile. “That’s just meant to be relaxing, I’m not really doing anything. I can’t change whatever has affected him, and while I could probably henge the appearance, that wouldn’t change how he feels. So that wouldn’t do any good in the long run. All we can really do is be supportive and try to find out what the hell is happening.”
Balfour remembered a comment about being hit with a beer bottle, and Genma’s words brought that comment to mind once more, but he didn’t say anything about it. He rubbed Izumo’s back and pressed soft kisses to his hair every now and again, but that was really all he could do.
“He’ll adjust,” he said softly. “He’ll adjust. Or we’ll just have to find a way out of these bodies. Which would be great, actually. We should try that anyway.”
But not right now. Right now was cuddles.
“I’ll help however I can,” Genma said quietly. He dropped his hand away from Izumo, but didn’t fully move away, settling himself onto Izumo’s bed. It was quite crowded with Izumo and Balfour stretched out there, but he didn’t mind his long lean legs stretching over the side.
“I should probably check on Minato-sama and see if this has hit him as well, and then check on a few other people, and see if I can get any more information. It might help to figure out who all as affected and see if there’s something they have in common, since it obviously isn’t everyone.”
“Same,” Balfour said softly. He was glad that Genma was close, especially as he shifted to sit up, trying to pry Izumo off of him. He had to pee. Why hadn’t he gone before he had come here? He wasn’t sure. All he had known, at that moment, was that he had to see Izumo.
“Mind staying just for a little bit, though?” And helping. “I...don’t want to leave him alone.” But he really really had to go.
“I didn’t mean right this second anyway,” Genma said, laughing a little. “I’d rather give things a few hours to calm down, maybe a day, before I start poking around too much. If everyone else having this problem is reacting to it badly, I’d just as soon not deal with their freak-outs too.”
He shifted a little closer to Izumo as Balfour tried to move away, gently trying to help untangle them. He knew from experience how clingy Izumo could be when he was asleep.
“I’ll be right here with him,” he said, in a very quiet tone. Serious, perhaps too serious. Where had his jokes gone today?
“It’s a good thing I refuse to freak out, then, isn’t it?” he asked with a quiet, nervous chuckle, his own semblance of a joke. He was still rather upset, but the less he thought about it, the better. When he finally got untangled from Izumo, he leaned over and kissed dark hair, then pulled his clothes back where they belonged.
“Thank you. You know...for staying...” For being Izumo’s friend. For being kind to him. For being what Izumo needed. All of those meanings just in that one little pause. He reached to touch Genma, pulled back, reached again, twitched back again, before finally settling his hand on his shoulder over his shirt.
Gloves. He needed gloves. Desperately.
Genma snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew that he should be more polite, but it seemed like a silly thing to be thanking someone for. He wasn’t doing anything particularly helpful, and Izumo had been his friend... well, not as closely at home, but they’d at least known each other.
He snuggled in close to Izumo, idly, and reached up to take the senbon from between his lips, just in case. He held it out to Balfour.
“Don’t touch the tip, please, but put that on the desk or somewhere.”
Balfour nodded a little and took the senbon in his fingers, his hand shaking a bit as he moved over to put the needle on the desk. He assumed that it was probably poisoned--why not? Izumo’s tended to be, at least some of them.
He then disappeared off to the bathroom.
It took him a bit to come out again, having washed his hands several times, just for something to do with them. He didn’t look at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, didn’t allow himself to think about what he looked like now. Izumo and Genma didn’t need that. They had their own things to deal with.
When he came back out, he sat down on the bed next to Izumo, fingers ghosting along his shoulder. He didn’t look like a girl version of Izumo--Genma had been right in that--but there were some features that were similar. Like his eyes.
Balfour knew better than to mention that, though.
Genma certainly hadn’t intended to fall asleep, curled up around his drugged friend on the bed. But the day had been very stressful from the beginning, and he’d been awakened suddenly by Izumo falling in the first place. He’d stayed up too late before that, and well, while he could stay awake for long stretched of time on missions, there wasn’t any particular risk at the moment. None that he could actually fight anyway.
Balfour, in their bathroom, did not count as a danger.
So by the time Balfour emerged, Genma was curled around Izumo protectively, his eyes closed and his breathing steady, sound asleep.
Balfour was rather flattered that Genma seemed to fall asleep. He clearly felt safe or he wouldn’t have fallen asleep. He reached over, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder, hand resting on his arm through the blanket for a moment before he sank down on the floor next to Izumo, resting his head on the bed, arms crossed. There wasn’t enough room up there for all three of them.
****
Izumo woke groggy and hazy-feeling. He opened his eyes slowly, and blinked in surprise at the vast quantities of light brown hair. Genma, smell of poison in skin and the taste of good tea. Izumo shifted lightly, flexed fingers, toes. Okay, this arm, this leg....he probably wasn’t going to get away without waking Genma, but he’d give it a damn good try. He was an expert on creeping out of beds, after all.
In slow, slow increments he extracted himself, taking his time to be extra-careful. His reflexes were a little off. That wasn’t all but....
He sat up and sat for a minute, taking in the room. Feet. Feet? Huh. Izumo crept to the edge of the bed. Dark hair, girl, hmm. Izumo examined the woman carefully. Well. Guesses limited it to a spare few, and Izumo decided it was probably Balfour. Itachi would have made a prettier girl.
Izumo slid down over the side of the bed. socked feet on the floor, how had he done this before? Right, like this, like so. He got to his feet carefully. He wobbled a great deal and trailed his hands along the walls. Damn.
Bathroom, he had to pee. It was cold, and he mused on girl-habits slowly, sleepily. Little details percolated through the drug fog, and by the time he woke up enough to get up again, half his left foot had gone to sleep. Okay, that was not a problem he was used to encountering, and it made balance a hell of a lot more difficult. Good thing he didn’t intend to go far. He stared at himself in the mirror again, and reached up with both hands to touch his own face, pushing his hair back.
Span of cheekbones, width of jaw. Arch of brow, angle of chin.
Izumo mapped his new face out with tedious care.
Genma couldn’t exactly sleep through Izumo getting out of the bed, though it did take him a few seconds to register quite what had woken him. He’d just had his arms full of Izumo, he was sure of it, and he had that odd chilly feeling that a partner leaving the bed always caused. Even though the bed itself was still very warm with the combined heat of their bodies, something was missing.
He shook his head, pushed himself up into a sitting position, and glanced around just in time to see that Izumo had gone into the bathroom.
“I got you clothes!” he called in that direction, without moving from Izumo’s bed. “If you stay in there too long, I’ll come in after you,” he added, belatedly.
It didn’t take much to bring Balfour out of his uncomfortable doze, and Genma’s voice did just that. He groaned and made snuffling noises before opening his eyes.
“Izumo...?” he muttered, sitting up and rolling his shoulders, looking at the bed, noting only one person, before looking around a little more. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then slumped back against the bedside table again.
“Sleep well, Genma?”
Because no, he hadn’t just automatically said Izumo’s name when he woke up. Nope. That had not happened and had absolutely nothing to do with him being worried about him--which he wasn’t, by the way! Nope!
Genma stretched lazily, glanced toward the bathroom door again to be sure it had been left open, and then shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah, actually. Must have been damn tired.” He took in Balfour’s position, snorted, and then shook his head.
“Next time just use my bed, stupid. I promise there aren’t any poisoned senbon hidden in it or anything. Though you might find art supplies or clothing if I’m in a messy mood.”
Balfour laughed softly and shrugged.
“Well, I would have taken your bed had I planned on sleeping. Either that or crowded in on this bed with you. I didn’t plan on sleeping, though.”
But he had. He had fallen asleep with his head on the bed, and then ended up slumped against the table. That made his shoulder ache, so he rolled it a bit.
“Either way, that doesn’t look comfortable,” Genma said, with another little stretch. He felt almost like he was emulating Izumo with all the waking-up-wiggling, but he’d wound up in an uncomfortable position somehow. He wasn’t really used to sleeping with anyone, despite the couple of times he and Izumo had done it.
He gave a soft little yawn, then wrinkled his nose. When Izumo still didn’t emerge from the bathroom, he rolled his eyes.
“Must be trying to figure out what to do with his face.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t like it was anything different, though. He arched backward, pulling his shoulders together as his hands linked behind him, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to watch his body move the way it was, and the less he thought of his body as his, the less it upset him.
Izumo, on the other hand...
“Yeah, but I do hope he doesn’t powder up like the women in my world. It just wouldn’t be right,” he said with a quiet, forced laugh, voice not as light as he was trying for. The joking air he was trying to exude began to make him fidgety and uncomfortable, so he went serious, blue eyes going a little darker, shoulders straightening as his posture went more rigid.
It was all he knew to do.
Face-shape was just the start. Izumo pulled at his chakra, slipper strings weaving reluctantly. First layer of genjutsu, spun slowly into place. Izumo smiled at the mirror, first a little, then wider, bright and flirty. Flaw there, on the chin. Izumo dropped the illusion and began again.
Smile, frown, scowl. Various twistings of the face, all in dead silence with cold assessing eyes. It was hard work to build such a precise illusion that would not slip and Izumo had built his first over seven years ago and perfected it since. He had all the tricks and the building blocks....he just needed to rebuild it. His chakra flared, died, flared, died as he wove and re-wove the illusion. Face, expression, eye, shades of light, shifting of skin....
Most illusions were not so detailed. A suggestion was good enough for the mind.
But this...it had to be done the right way.
Again and again and again, over and over, cementing the particular quirks in his memory, the right weave, the right shape of it all so he could put it up in a heartbeat’s time.
He ignored the murmur of voices outside, intent on his task.
Genma took in Balfour’s posture and expression, and it worried him somewhat, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. Offering support to Izumo was automatic, instinctual. Offering it to Balfour was a little different.
He had to think on that one a little.
“I don’t know, he could really do some interesting things, if he were comfortable with himself.” He glanced toward the bathroom door, wondering. The glimpses he’d seen under Izumo’s henge combined with his current appearance told him quite a few interesting things, and he couldn’t really resist any longer.
He pushed himself up off Izumo’s bed, moved over to his own, and reached for the sketchpad he’d abandoned earlier, then dug around his bed for the pencil he’d been using.
He sighed softly and rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to Genma, especially about Izumo being comfortable with himself and doing interesting things. Any other time, he probably would have blushed and his mind would have gone down a dirty road. Not now. Now wasn’t the time for joking.
Slowly, he rose, picking up a muffin from the tray, and walked across the room in slow, measured steps, almost as if he were trying to keep his hips from swaying and his thighs from rubbing, as if he were trying to walk like a man. He paced, nervously, quietly, his footsteps making very little noise--one good thing about having smaller feet.
“You know what’s the worst?” he asked idly. “My gloves don’t fit. That’s the worst part...for me.”
And his voice was wrong, and he had to relearn how to walk, and his boobs hurt. The only thing that would make this time even worse was if he started his period--and boy he hoped he didn’t do that.
But he wasn’t complaining. He was trying to make conversation.
Genma considered that for a moment before responding. He knew - had found out really quickly - how important the gloves where to Balfour. What he didn’t know was why, and that was a whole other issue. He didn’t know how to help if he didn’t know why, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to flat out ask, either.
So he raised an eyebrow and asked a question more directly associated with the current situation.
“If you had other gloves, would it help? Or does it have to be those ones?”
“It would be nice if I could wear those, but I can’t. Any gloves will do, though.” And when he was confident that everything was okay here--even though there wasn’t shit he could do to help--he would go look for some. No sooner.
“It’s not that important right now. Just...grating on my nerves even more on top of everything else.”
Because that meant he had to touch people without them, because not touching was rude.
Genma shook his head, reluctantly set the sketchpad aside again. On the page he’d started working on, there was nothing but a few vague lines, a rough outline of a face, in which seemed to float eyes, shaded differently despite being done all in pencil and not actually colored.
He stepped toward Balfour, reached down to ruffle his hair playfully, and then glanced toward the bathroom door.
“I’ll go see what I can do about it. I was going to go back out to ask some more questions anyway. I trust you to take care of Izumo if he needs anything.” And that was saying a lot.
“Don’t worry about the gloves,” Balfour said softly, leaning into the hand that ruffled his hair, his fingers touching Genma’s waist, grateful for the offer. “I can worry about those later when everything is settled down. It’ll probably take a bit to get some that fit properly, anyway.”
And the stern look on his face faded with that, back to the soft smiles and worried frowns that were normal for him.
“If you’re sure,” Genma said with a shrug of his shoulders. He would probably still ask if he ran into any of the women he knew, but he wasn’t going to push about it with Balfour. He’d just quietly leave them for him if he found any he thought would work. But that was really a secondary concern.
“I’m going out to look around anyway. Take care of Izumo,” he said, smiling softly down at Balfour and patting at his hand as well as he pulled away. He didn’t say that he really needed a break himself, that he was getting more and more pissed off at the situation by the moment and didn’t think he’d be much help for Izumo if he didn’t settle down some.
None of that really needed to be said.
Balfour twitched a little as his hand was patted, but offered a little smile to Genma.
“I will,” he said softly. He had every intention of taking care of Izumo the best he could.
So he paced a couple times, then sighed, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, then went toward the bathroom, knocking at the door. It was too quiet now.
Izumo ignored the knock, utterly absorbed in his work.
Balfour knocked again, this time a little louder, and called Izumo’s name. He was worried, but he wasn’t sure what else to do about any of this. Right now, really, he just wanted to wrap his arms around Izumo, wanted to know that nothing important had changed, wanted to reassure Izumo of this.
The door was only pushed to, not latched, and not locked. Izumo kept ignoring the noise. He almost had it, he was sure. Just a few more minor shifts and then it’d be presentable to the public again.
Balfour nudged the door open when he saw it slide a bit, just enough to see Izumo. He seemed busy, so he just stood there, watching quietly, and nudged the door open a little more so that he was clearly visible.
That was alright that Izumo was busy. He could wait. He was trying to get his eyes accustomed to seeing a woman when he saw Izumo anyway.
Izumo’s appearance flickered and shifted as he worked the henge, skin smoothing, returning to normal, face changing minutely.
At last his features settled and he leaned back, sighing. There. That was as good as he could do in one session. He nodded to himself, brown eyes tired and features ageless.
“You know, it’s funny, I had just mentioned something about hoping you weren’t powdering your face to Genma,” he said with a quiet, slightly forced laugh. He shifted a little closer and put a hand on Izumo’s back, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“If you want my opinion, I think you’re hot.”
He smiled even more, no longer forcing it, just allowing the humor to go into his face. Okay. It was time to stop fretting and joke a little bit.
Izumo startled a little at the sound of Balfour’s voice, and wobbled on his feet. Balfour’s hand on his back helped steady him and he was still for the kiss, tiredly wondering how long Balfour had been there. He tried a smile. It was tired but there it was a smile. Balfour had better be damn happy with it.
“I’ll be hotter once I figure out how to walk right,” he replied, and he tried to get emotion through the drug-effects but it didn’t work.
He was too flat still.
Oh well.
“I’m tired.”
“That’s alright. You can work on that,” he said with a laugh, pulling him a little closer with the hand on his waist, stepping in to give him a one-armed hug.
“Yeah, you sound tired. Want to take another nap?” he asked as he let go, stepping back just a little bit, taking in the sight of this new face, getting used to it, too. This face wasn’t Izumo, but the mind was. The person was still his best friend, so nothing should change.
And nothing would. He was determined.
“But I have a very serious question first.”
Izumo gave him a wary look. “Alright...” He had no idea what Balfour was going to ask him, really.
“Now this is more of an in-general question, but...how exactly does sex work in these bodies?”
It was a stupid question, one that had his cheeks heating.
“I should know the answer but...it’s never come up until now.”
Izumo blinked. “Same way it’s always worked?” he asked, puzzled. He didn’t really know what Balfour was asking. Sex was sex was sex, right?
“Well, yes and no. I mean, we’re sort of missing a key part, here,” he said, looking a bit confused before laughing to himself. “I was wondering more about the specifics.”
Izumo raised his head and gave Balfour a very blank look. Balfour needed to explain a little more, because Izumo had no fuckin’ clue what the problem was here.
Balfour stared a little at Izumo, matching his blank look, and blinked several times before shaking his head.
“How about we talk about this later, when we’re not quite so tired.”
...that was a good plan. Izumo liked that plan. Without ceremony he flopped back down onto the bed and curled himself around a pillow. Things were still not right but they were getting better and with his face back on his armor back up Izumo felt like he could sleep and be safe.