Simply End Remix: Epilogue

It is a Satuday evening, and in the Shiranui household, there is a party going on. The two couches and assortment of cushions in the living room are all draped with bodies, drinks are passed from one hand to another, some kind of new age-sounding music is coming from a stereo that's been alternately turned up and down to fit the mood of the evening several times already.

At the moment, it is quiet, and in fact, one of the party-goers is already either asleep or unconscious, the blond woman who works at the mission desk lying with her head on the arm of the couch, a scribbled 'still can't hold your liquor, Yori' across her face. The handwriting looks suspiciously like that of a certain schoolteacher.

That same schoolteacher is sprawled on the floor, basking in a ray of moonlight rather than sunlight at the moment. His head rests on the thigh of a spiky-haired chuunin with a bandage across his nose, a senbon rests between his lips, and a bandana is half-hanging-off his hair, the old joke of imitating Genma brought back for the evening on a whim.

The other 'monkey' lies sprawled across the floor as well, his hand reaching out occasionally to tickle Kotetsu's feet, at other times reaching up to sweep his bangs out of his face, or to reach for the bottle of beer sitting beside him.

A purple-haired kunoichi takes up an armchair, her hand trailing down to rest on the head of a scarred jounin who leans back against the chair, soft laughter and a single shared drink passing back and forth between them. Raidou's foot is stretched out to rest against that of the honey-haired jounin sitting on the couch, a lazy and casual acknowledgement of a connection, thoughtless and yet meaningful.

Resting on Genma's shoulder, the head of the last member of the little crew, silver hair splayed everywhere against Genma's tan skin, a lazy smirk on his face as he listens to Genma spinning some bullshit tale about a mission that wasn't half as interesting as he's making it sound.

Into this scene bursts a blond-haired young man with his dark-haired wife on his arm, and he sweeps perceptive blue eyes around the room, taking in the group of thirty-and-forty-somethings sprawled around the room and turning back to look at his wife.

“Hinata-chan, do you have any idea...?” and the rest of the question is left unsaid, but it could have been 'who is with who here' or 'what is going on' or perhaps 'exactly what this complex web of bonds is'. They shared a laugh, understanding the by-now-old joke, and pushed their way through the room to toss people out of the way and make room for themselves.

There is more laughter, as Genma falls off the couch and rolls across the floor to rest against Iruka, as Kakashi scoots over to let Naruto sit by him instead of following, as Hinata rolls her eyes and plops in Naruto's lap.

“None of your damn business, that's always the answer...” Iruka says, winking at his former student, turning his head to nuzzle against Kotetsu's leg.

“Yeah, that's about right...” comes the reply, as the younger members of the party reach for the stereo remote, crank the music up.

Just about right.