The morning sun had just streamed lazily through the window when Harry groaned and rolled onto his back. His chest heaving with uneven breaths, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin as he stared blankly at the ceiling, heart racing from the dream he couldn't shake.
Hot breath against his neck. A teasing hand on his waist. A mouth, trailing heat along his collarbone, leaving fire down his body.
Harry exhaled shakily and threw an arm over his eyes, willing the stiffness between his legs to fade.
He had dreamt of Shikaku.
Again.
And gods, it had felt so real. Every lingering touch, every promise whispered against his skin, every slow, burning kiss had left him aching and flushed. He groaned again and sat up, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Cold shower. Definitely a cold shower."
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom, ignoring how his skin tingled just thinking about the man sleeping across the hall.
Fifteen minutes and a frigid rinse later, he emerged calmer, ready to start the day.
Which would have been made easier if his son hadn't shared the Nara trait of not wanting to wake up. Watching as Shikamaru let his head drop onto the table one more, wondering if his dad occasionally did the same.
And of course, the man in question had to walk into the kitchen looking delightfully ruffled, hair slightly damp in his ponytail, his mesh shirt looser from a second wear, exposing a sliver of defined collarbone and that damn smirk.
"Morning," Shikaku said, voice still a bit gravelly with sleep as he stepped far too close to where Harry was buttering toast. His hand brushing Harry's lower back as he passed, leaning in close.
"You look beautiful this morning," he drawled, mouth pressed to his ear.
Harry barely managed to suppress a shiver, biting down a grin. "You might want to wake up a little more before you try flirting. Wouldn't want your success rate to drop again."
Shikaku blinked at him stunned, then let out a quiet, indignant huff. "Now that's just cruel. I was at least a solid 90% there."
"You sure you calculated that right?" Harry asked innocently, cutting into a slice of apple for Teddy.
"Of course." Shikaku smirked, stepping back only to ruffle a sleepy Teddy's curls and swipe a piece of toast from Harry's plate. "I'm excellent at math."
The moment was warm and gentle, and Harry watched as Shikaku crouched next to Shikamaru, who was grumbling into his rice like someone had personally offended him by waking him up.
The tenderness in Shikaku's face as he fixed the boy's hair made something in Harry's chest throb in such a good way. This man… he wasn't just a father. He was his boy's father. Their lives were so tangled now, Harry didn't know where he ended, and they began.
Shikaku stood then, caught Harry's gaze, and casually leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek, closer to the corner of his lips. It was light, barely more than a brush of lips against skin, but it set Harry ablaze.
He froze, the bento he made for Shikaku forgotten in his hands.
"I'm going to be late," Shikaku said, completely unaffected, grabbing the bento box Harry held out to him silently and smirking. "Thanks for breakfast dear, I'll be sure to take a break to watch you fly your dragons later."
Harry was left standing there, face warm and mind a riot, while Saeko snorted into her tea behind him. And when did she get there?
He was only grateful that Shikamaru had been too focused on dosing off at the table to notice his fathers attentions.
"I hate him," Harry muttered.
"No, you don't," Saeko said, amusement colouring her voice. "You're so smitten."
He groaned. "How am I supposed to make him work for it if he goes around being all sweet?"
"You be strong, boy," she said, patting his cheek affectionately. "You must endure. Make him chase."
"This may be the hardest thing I've ever done. And I've fought in a war," Harry grumbled.
Saeko only laughed.
Later that morning, after breakfast had been hastily consumed, Saeko made an offer.
"Shikamaru and I will go back home for a while," she said. "And you should let me take Teddy too."
Harry blinked, already shaking his head. "He's a handful when he's grumpy—"
"He's delightful," she interrupted. "And you can't take him with you. You're making a statement with your dragons today; you shouldn't spend it worrying about keeping your boy safe."
Harry hesitated. "I was planning on flying today, yes… but—"
Saeko raised a brow. "It's time to show the village your dragons. You may want to show them you mean no harm, but this is also an opportunity to deter those who mean you harm. You need to show the council that you are not to be trifled with."
She gave a small grin, then said, "You need to put on a show."
Harry wasn't going to deny it. Yes, he had originally wanted to make sure the village would get used to seeing his dragons, but he also wanted to show the rot of Konoha that his clan was not to be trifled with.
They can try to get past his wards all they want; he would show them today what they would be up against if they ever managed it.
Still, Harry bit his lip unsure. "You won't let him out of your sight?"
"They'll be fine," Saeko said. "Let yourself breathe, child. And besides," she grinned, "I want to go into the village and show off my adorable grandsons. Present and future."
Harry stiffened slightly, despite the blush on his cheeks and the flutter of acceptance he felt at her words. "If you do go into the village, will you take someone you trust? A Nara guard at least? Just in case. The wards were being tested last night by who I think were Danzo's men. I don't want anyone trying to corner you with the boys."
Saeko's expression softened. "That is a bit of a complication." But then she nodded. "I'll take Ko and Daen with me. They won't let anyone close, I swear it."
Harry sighed in relief. "Thank you. I know you could probably stop anyone who tries, but I'd rather not test it, even with the distraction of the dragons."
Saeko's eyes sharpened, but she only nodded. "I'll protect them with my life."
He packed up Teddy's things, carefully tucking in his favourite plush and a clean set of clothes. He showed Saeko how to clip the harness to carry Teddy securely against her chest, the baby giggling and pulling at Saeko's hair as the buckles clicked into place.
"I'll probably take flight around nine," Harry told them as they reached the gates of the Nara compound. "I need to change and summon them first."
Shikamaru looked up at him, eyes bright with excitement now that the adults had finished talking. "Can you fly over the village centre? Please? I wanna see everyone's faces. And you should jump off and scare everyone!"
Harry laughed and crouched, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I'll fly wherever you're watching from. Keep your eyes on the sky, little dragon."
One of the guards audibly cooed and Harry had to smother a smile.
Shikamaru blushed but looked happy. He bumped their foreheads together—quick, affectionate—and Harry had to stop himself from cooing along with the guard, remembering two affectionate goblin children who would do the same.
"Love you," Harry whispered.
"Love you too."
Teddy waved his plush dragon in farewell, cooing out "Maaasshha!"
"Love you too, little cub."
Harry gave both his boys one last kiss and then watched as they walked into the Nara compound, giving the two Nara guards a smile before leaving.
Back at his compound, he sighed, shoulders dropping as the last of the morning tension bled out of him. He wasn't used to this. Letting someone that wasn't Tilly, Tsunade or Shizune watch Teddy, even if that someone was Saeko. But he trusted her with them. More than he trusted most at least.
Now though, he could concentrate on his task without worry.
With a quiet breath, he called, "Tilly?"
The elf appeared with a slightly harried pop, arms folded and a stern expression already forming. "You made Tilly hide all night, Master Harry. And this morning," she accused, eyes narrowing. "Tilly had to crouch behind curtains like a—like a common household charm!"
"I'm sorry," Harry said with a wince. "I wasn't sure if they were ready to know about magic yet—proper magic. I did tell you to go back to the Keep instead."
"Hmph," Tilly said, but her hands went to her hips and her ears drooped with begrudging understanding.
"I am going to tell them about magic," Harry added quickly. "Eventually. Just not yet. And… maybe it's better if I take Shikaku to the Keep when I explain. It'll be easier to show him there."
Tilly sniffed. "Yous better not be kissing before yous tell him."
Harry flushed. "That's… not your business."
"It is when Tilly is to be swept under the rug like a dust bunny!" she huffed, then added slyly, "Even if the deer man will make a good lord consort for Tilly's Master."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tilly. Focus."
She harrumphed. "What does Master Harry want?"
Harry grinned sheepishly. "I need the riding outfit."
Tilly's eyes went wide. "THE one? The back-of-the-closet, never-to-see-light-of-day one?!"
Harry winced. "Yes. That one."
"But—but Master Harry told his Blaise he would never wear it!"
"I know," Harry said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "But for once, Blaise's overzealousness might actually work in my favour."
Tilly squeaked excitedly, her previous indignation forgotten. "Tilly will get it right away!"
And with a pop, she was gone.
~
Harry stood before the mirror, eyes narrowed slightly as he appraised the outfit now adorning his frame. It glinted faintly as the embroidery on the coat caught the morning light pouring in through the windows—gold filigree threaded through the black long coat, curling like vines up his arms and high collar. Blaise had once joked that he was born to dress like a royal shadow dipped in gold; now Harry reluctantly had to admit, Blaise might've had a point.
He looked good.
The outfit was fitted. It hugged his form in all the right places without being too clingy, tapering down to tight dragon hide trousers that tucked into high boots and a wide belt that cinched the black coat at his waist and allowed it to flare out behind him slightly.
He looked deadly, graceful, a perfect balance of it really.
"Well," he murmured, brushing a hand over the sleeve, "at least I'll leave an impression when I walk through the village afterwards."
He tugged slightly at the decorated braids Tilly has woven into his hair, the gold clasps standing out in the two strands that flowed free from his messy bun. Then he made his way swiftly to the dragon's cave in the compound.
He could hear the gateway humming slightly and closed his eyes focusing on his connection to his dragons.
First, he reached out along the oldest bond—Nox, his queen of terror. The connection snapped into place and joy flooded his chest. Then came Altair, his sweetest child, his heart of the sky. And then Lyra, his oldest, wisest dragon. Then came her children; Orion, Cassie, Vega, and finally, Rigel, who was already buzzing with anticipation.
His had bonds with all of them, though he will admit to the first three being stronger.
Come, he whispered through their bonds, Come, lets fly. Come to me. It's time.
The portal within the gateway shimmered, and a second later, Rigel came barrelling through—less like a dragon and more like an oversized, scaled puppy. And he bowled straight into Harry, nearly knocking him flat against the stone wall behind him.
Harry laughed aloud, wrapping his arms around Rigel's wide snout.
"Easy, little one. You'll knock me to the ground again."
"You called me, Grandmother," Rigel crooned, "and I came. Am I first? I win! Are we going to fly?"
"Yes, yes, you win," Harry cooed in Parseltongue, "but let the others catch up first. We will be flying together today."
Even as he spoke, the gateway flared again and this time, it was Nox and Altair who emerged, wings tucked in tight.
He was glad he put so many expansion charms on the cavern now, as he felt the floor shake slightly with their steps.
Nox gave an imperious shake of her wings as she stalked toward Harry.
"I've missed you mother," Nox hissed fondly, brushing her face against his side. "The two-legs take too much of your time."
"I'm sorry my terror, they needed me here," Harry murmured back, pressing his forehead to her scaled brow. "But so do you. That's why I called you now. It's time for you see your new home."
Lyra came next, flanked by her three children. The older dragoness headbutted him with warm affection, exhaling plumes of smoke into the air. "It is time for the Fire Mother to return to the sky. Magic will rejoice once more."
Harry chuckled. "You make it sound like I've been missing for years."
"You have, in dragon-years," she teased. "You've missed many discoveries since."
"Then you'll have to take me flying when we get a chance," Harry promised. "And you'll show me everything."
Cassie squealed. "I found a lake with big silver fish, but they also looked like two legs! Can we go later? Can we, can we?"
"It sounds like you found a colony of mermaids. We will go soon,"Harry promised. "But first, a dance in the sky, yes?"The chorus of happy screeches made his bones tremble with joy. It was infectious, like sparks of energy shooting through nerves.
Nox leaned close again, her eyes slitted and amused. "The little shadow. The two-leg sire of our little brother. Is this dance for him?"
Harry blushed, hard. "It's not— I mean—Nox!"
Lyra snorted. "Nox has been talking. She says he is strong. Good with the hatchlings. A good provider for his pack. And he smells like he wants to mate with you, we will make this the best mating dance for him."
Harry gave a strangled noise and waved a hand. "This is not a mating dance!"
Altair crooned and flapped his wings. "Can it be a lightning dance? You promised we would next time we flew together!"
Harry turned to him, relieved for the distraction. "Yes, my brave one. It's cloudy, but no rain today. We want to show everyone that we are not to be messed with. You'll lead today and light up the sky."
Altair trilled, stomping his feet in glee. Rigel bounced around him, bumping into his adoptive father and getting a rumbling growl in return.
"Careful, little one," Altair hissed. "Don't trip me before we even start. I will not embarrass mother today."
Harry rubbed Altair's flank gently, feeling the subtle scars under his fingers—residual reminders of the chains that once bound him. "You could never embarrass me, my love. And they will see you, as you are—beautiful, majestic and free."
Altair ducked his head, overwhelmed. "But what if they don't like me? What if the two-legs fear me instead?"
"They might," Harry whispered, curling close. "We will fly today to show our power and strength. Let them fear us, let them envy us, or adore us. Whatever they feel doesn't matter, just remember that I love you. We all love you."
The dragon rumbled and pressed closer, comforted by the firm certainty in Harry's voice. Rigel gave a soft growl and nudged his head into his fathers, a quiet sign of support.
Harry let his veil cover them all briefly as they prepared to leave the compound.
Harry stepped back, calling the wind to him, air swirling around his feet as he launched himself gracefully onto Altair's back and guided him out of the cave into the clearing. The dragon's wings spread wide, stretching far into the edges of the clearing.
"Ready?" Harry called.
"Always," Altair whispered back.
The ground shook with the force of their departure. Altair leapt skyward with a powerful flap of his wings, the wind roaring past Harry's ears as they burst into the open sky above the Ryujin compound. Clouds swirled overhead, drawn to the energy rolling off the dragons and Harry let go of whatever restraints he held on to his magic and let it flow free.
Behind them, Nox and Lyra soared upward, followed closely by Orion and Cassie, who chirped with joy at the feeling of being in the open skies together again. Vega spun in slow loops, teasing her siblings as they all rose above the treeline, Rigel close on her heels.
And then—
Crack.
Lightning flashed across the heavens, summoned by Altair himself. Thin golden-white arcs raced across the clouds, dancing between them. Harry felt his own elemental magic rise in his core and flow out into the sky to join the chaos.
Harry sat steady on Altair's back, one hand raised into a cloud as the other rested against his boy's warn scales.
"Now," he whispered, "Let's show them what it means to be free, my love."
~
The faint scent of ozone teased the air over Konoha like a whisper before a storm.
Vendors in the marketplace were the first to look up, their hands pausing in their trades as the sky flickered unnaturally with a pulse of light.
"Did you hear that?" a woman asked, her voice hushed. Her cart of persimmons lay momentarily forgotten.
"I thought it was just me," replied a nearby fishmonger, gripping the edge of his stall. "That wasn't thunder, was it?"
"No storm in the forecast," someone else added. "They said it'd be clear all week."
"But there was lightning," said another. "I saw it. And there's this smell in the air—like something burning but clean. Like—like—"
"Ozone," the butcher said. "Been a long time since I've smelled that. Not natural lightning, I'd wager."
A few heads turned upward again, eyes squinting as the clouds began to thicken and curl, moving as though stirred by an unseen hand.
A few of the villagers began shifting uneasily, and someone muttered, "Is it going to rain? It better not. The Uchiha said Ryujin-sama was supposed to fly today…"
A chorus of agreement followed, a few others pouting in disappointment. "Yeah, I was looking forward to seeing the dragons. My kid's been bouncing off the walls since yesterday…"
"It was probably all talk," another voice chimed in with a huff. "The Uchiha probably lied. Wouldn't be the first time they stirred up the village with their lies."
That earned a sharp hush from an elderly man nearby, a visible shiver running down his spine. "You shouldn't say that so loudly. Especially not about that clan. Not after… that night."
The words hung heavy in the air and a few heads bowed instinctively, others simply fell silent in anger.
What they didn't see was the young boy in the alley's shadow nearby, eyes dark and fists trembling at his sides.
Itachi stood with his head lowered—feeling the suffocating, seething pain of injustice against his clan. Their words didn't surprise him anymore. What surprised him was how much they still stung after six years.
He took in a slow breath, trying to steady himself when a hand clamped gently on his shoulder.
In a flash, he spun, hand darting to his hip for a kunai before stopping just short. His shoulders dropped in a mixture of irritation and something dangerously close to relief.
"Shisui. I didn't know you were back already."
The older boy ruffled Itachi's hair. "Aw, did you miss me, baby cousin?"
Itachi scowled, swatting his hand away. "You're insufferable."
But Shisui didn't reply immediately. His own smile faltered as the villagers' whispers rose again, thick with poison and paranoia. He noticed the way Itachi's spine straightened again, his young face carved in still, silent pain.
Shisui frowned, tugging him away from the edge of the crowd. "Ignore them. You hear me? They don't matter. We know the truth. That should be enough."
They leapt onto the nearby rooftops with ease, the wind catching their hair, the scent of ozone stronger now.
Itachi's voice was soft, almost afraid to be heard. "What if it's never enough?"
Shisui turned toward him, a thousand responses on his tongue and then froze as he looked up at the sky.
"Wait," he murmured, brows furrowing. "Are you seeing that?"
Itachi followed his line of sight. At first, it was just a shifting of the clouds. Then the light around them pulsed with gold and silver hues, lightning cracking again, but this time, accompanied by something massive.
A shadow.
No, shadows.
One—then two, then three—massive shapes danced above the clouds like living silhouettes. When lightning arced once more, the light revealed it clearly for a heartbeat.
A dragon.
Then the world broke open with sound.
Not just one roar, but many. They were vibrating so deeply it shook dust from the tiles beneath their feet and felt like a drumbeat inside their bones.
Gasps rang out from below as villagers rushed out of their stalls and homes. Children squealed in excitement, dragging their parents outside. Even the hardened shinobi patrolling nearby had their mouths agape in disbelief.
Then, out of the clouds emerged the dragons, soaring in a twisting, spiral. They were an orchestra of flight and power against a lightning-streaked sky.
A large white dragon spiralled first, his pale scales glinting with each flash, wings spread wide as he banked hard left, leading the pack.
Next, a black dragon, followed behind him. She twisted sideways through the air with perfect grace, thunder rolling in her wake. What looked to be water blanketing her wings like crystals.
Then came a bronze and rose-gold one, her wings snapping wide in a rolling dance as she corkscrewed through a cloud, flames licking from her mouth in elegant loops.
Behind her, four more dragons dove in a synchronised flight; golden scales reflecting the sunlight in bursts; a forest emerald blur with wicked speed; trailing then was a larger dragon with black and silver wings and regal grace. Following behind them was a smaller black form, though he was no less graceful as they playfully danced through rings of fire left behind.
And riding at the centre of it all, body pressed tightly against the white dragon, was a figure dressed in black and gold. Long coat trailing behind him, dark hair whipping around his face, and sparks dancing along his form.
This must be the new clan Head his father mentioned, Itachi thought.
He was barely holding onto the white dragon he was riding; his hands were raised as if trying to catch the wind, swaying with the beat of the dragons' wings. Lightning forked above him once more and the dragons sang—an eerie, ethereal melody that made the crowd feel as though they were watching gods descend from the heavens.
"It's him," someone whispered. "It's really him. The rumours are true!"
Shisui was grinning, wind whipping his face. "They won't be calling us liars now."
Itachi, normally reserved and unreadable, held a look of awe. "They're… beautiful."
The dragons soared again, a tight spiral with Harry riding at the centre, one hand raised, and the lightning responded. A beautiful, fragmented arc of pale light streaked through the air, clashing with the raised hand. Instead of striking him down though, the lord redirected it back into the sky.
Below, the people were screaming, cheering, crying.
~
In the Hokage's tower, Sarutobi Hiruzen stood at his window, pipe gripped between his lips. The shadows of his office flickered with every crack of lightning, dancing across his weathered face.
He did not speak.
He did not move.
He simply watched as the dragons flew in their spirals and as the Ryujin Lord rode at their heart like a force of nature descending from the heavens.
This was a statement.
And what a statement it was.
A smirk finally pulled at his lips, watching as the young man that had been doubting the intentions of, dance through the skies on the back of his mythical summons.
The people will either love him or hate him, only time will tell.
~
In the depths of Root, Danzo's knuckles turned white where he gripped his cane. His face twisted in something between greed and rage as he watched from the shadows, surrounded by masked figures who stared skyward, unmoving. But beneath their masks, their eyes were wide, staring at the spectacle as if in a trance.
"This cannot be allowed to stand," Danzo whispered.
But even he sounded unsure.
He needed to re-evaluate his plans…maybe a partnership would work in his favour…just this once.
~
In the heart of the KMPF, Fugaku stood with his officers. They had spent the last few hours fending off villagers demanding to know when the Ryujin Lord would appear, accusing the officers of lying to the public, of causing unrest.
He himself was wondering if he had made a mistake by spreading the word.
Now, those same villagers were murmuring apologies.
And Fugaku's sharp features softened slightly, watching the entrancing dance of fire and lightning unfolding in front of him.
"So he chose to fly after all."
He decides that his decision to volunteer Shisui as Hari-sama's training partner was a good one.
He found himself envious of the way the young Lord was manipulating the fire and lightning so easily, wondering if he would be willing to share his secrets with the clan.
Shisui was a good choice…with his preferences he would never be happy being married to a woman. Maybe an arrangement can be made for his nephew. After all, Hari-sama already has an heir.
Not far from there, Shisui felt a shiver of dread go through him as Fugaku mused a final thought.
Perhaps...he would like a husband as well.
~
Across the village, Shibi stood beside his son in the market street, both silent, however their insects were buzzing something fierce as they tasted the strange energy in the air.
Even among the Inuzuka, who usually brayed excitement or jostled one another, there were gaping mouths and stunned silences. Their dogs whimpering softly as if sensing something dangerous.
A playground nearby fell silent as every child stopped what they were doing to watch the dance happening above them.
Even a small boy with messy blonde hair, who'd moments ago been pushed aside and called names, stood wide-eyed.
He pointed up, face breaking into a grin of pure delight.
"DRAGONS!" he shrieked, bouncing in place.
Woah…they're even cooler that the Fourth Hokage's toads!
The boy made it his mission to find whoever owned the dragons, and to make them train him to be the strongest ninja the village had ever seen.
In a few months—when the new academy year started—he would be furious when the lazy pineapple haired boy refused to tell him where he got his blue dragon from.
Even more furious when the boy wouldn't take him to this 'Maashah' so he could get his own.
That day marked the start of a rivalry between the boys, and the pranks that were unleashed would bring tears of despair to many.
~
In the hospital, Tsunade smirked into her cup of tea. "What a show-off," she muttered, pride glinting in her eyes. Shizune watched over her shoulder, eyes full of wonder as she traced the sky.
"He sure is making a statement," Tsunade said.
Danzo and the old coots would be fools to test him now
~
In the village square, Saeko held Teddy in the baby harness while Shikamaru clutched her hand. The boy's face was glowing with excitement and pride.
"Look! There's Masshah! And Nox!" he cried. "And Altair! And Lyra! And—and—!"
Saeko's eyes glistened as her grandson named the dragons with such certainty, pride swelling in her chest at his connection to the young man bending the elements above on the back of a dragon.
Their Nara guards stood frozen, mouths agape.
"Shadows above," one of them whispered. "I didn't think the stories were true. No wonder Shikaku-sama is all over him. Just look at him…"
Saeko held in a snort when Ko gave Daen a slap to the back of his head.
My poor son will have a lot of competition after this. Though she knows that Hari was far too in love with her son to consider anyone else.
She smirks slightly to herself.
But Shikaku doesn't know that just yet.
~
Shikaku stood on the rooftop of the intelligence building, the cool metal railing biting into his palms as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed against the wind that carried with it the scent of ozone and storm.
The clouds above were alive with lightning. At first, he thought it was just the weather—odd, but not unheard of. Then came the roars.
All around him, the rooftop stilled. Anko had stopped mid-joke. Ibiki's arms were crossed, but even he was craning his neck skyward, brows furrowed. Inoichi had leaned against the edge, his blond hair ruffled by the winds, eyes wide with childlike excitement.
And Shikaku?
Shikaku was waiting for his own beautiful dragon to descend from the sky.
The clouds split suddenly.
The first dragon emerged from the lightning storm—a massive white dragon, scales gleaming and Shikaku knew this was Altair.
And on his back, a slim figure clad in tailored black and gold, the fabric glinting faintly with every flash of light.
Hari.
There he was, standing with one hand stretched upward towards the clouds, the other resting against the dragon's neck as his thighs clenched tightly. The coat he wore—fit for a prince really—snapped in the wind, and his dark hair flew wildly around his face, little decorations shining as they whipped behind him.
He was beautiful.
Other dragons emerged then—sleek, glittering, fire-scaled, green, black, gold.
They danced in spirals, bursting from the clouds like falling stars, each twist and turn a demonstration of deadly, controlled grace.
Inoichi whistled low beside him. "Do you think he'd let me ride one of them?"
"No," Shikaku replied flatly.
"Killjoy," Inoichi muttered, though he was grinning wide, his eyes never leaving the spectacle.
Then Hari turned one of the dragons toward their building.
Altair twisted low, massive wings cutting the air just above the rooftops. Wind cracked like a whip as it swept toward them.
"Shit," Ibiki snapped, stepping back, eyes squinting against the rush.
But Shikaku didn't move.
He only smirked.
Because over the sound of wings and wind and awe, he heard it—Hari's laughter.
Wild and free.
And Shikaku had never seen anything—anyone—more beautiful in his life.
Hari's head was tilted back, his face lit by lightning, golden trim gleaming against the stark contrast of black fabric and white dragon scales.
"Are we sure he isn't a Kami," Inoichi breathed beside him, bumping his elbow into Shikaku's ribs. "Lucky bastard."
Shikaku didn't deny it.
Because he felt it in his chest like a war drum—mine.
The word echoed through his mind as he watched the younger man twist gracefully to look behind him and send Shikaku a wide smile.
Hari was his, and he was Hari's.
But then everything shifted.
The dragon Hari rode pulled up, sharp and vertical, wings pumping with power as they flew back into the clouds, higher and higher until they looked like little more than a shining star among the grey.
Then Hari let go.
Shikaku's heart stopped.
Hari leaned back, arms spread, and let himself fall off of Altair's back.
"No," Shikaku breathed, moving before he could think, his body launching toward the edge of the rooftop, hands clenching the railing with such force it groaned beneath his grip. He bent the metal, knuckles white as his eyes locked on the falling figure.
Then—
A blur of motion.
The black dragon—Nox, he realised distantly—swooped under Hari like a ghost, wings flaring wide. Hari landed perfectly on her back, one hand sliding along her neck like they'd rehearsed this a hundred times before.
Only when he saw Hari safely mounted again did Shikaku breathe, the tension pouring out of him in a slow, disbelieving exhale. His heart still hammered in his chest like it was trying to escape.
"Troublesome," he whispered hoarsely.
Hari wasn't done.
The next moment, another dragon—bronze and rose-gold, sleek and fast—flew near.
Hari leaned low over Nox's back, murmuring something they couldn't hear, and suddenly the other dragons roared, and the sky exploded with pillars of fire.
Hari ducked into the flames, riding through with wild glee.
The stunt was dangerous. Insane. Glorious.
Shikaku pressed a hand to his chest.
Was his heart supposed to be racing this fast?
Inoichi coughed beside him, clearly still stunned. "You okay there, old man?"
Shikaku didn't answer at first.
He simply watched the man he loved—there it was, the word, no escaping it now—as he flew among gods, danced with lightning, played with fire, and still managed to look carefree among all that power.
Would his heart survive the wooing stage?
Maybe not.
But as he watched Hari call down another bolt of lightning, daring the skies to match him in power and beauty, Shikaku thought, with a smirk:
I wouldn't have him any other way.