FicWad

Kin had never particularly liked the colour pink, even as a child. It had meant little to her, except peripherally; pink was for the merchants' daughters in their silk kimonos on festival days, giggling and gossiping as Kin's grandmother barked at her to stop staring and get back to harvesting the rice.

She only really began to hate it years later, when she and Zaku finally convinced Dosu to take those stupid bandages off his face. He saw both their eyes go wide at the pink, shiny, swollen patches, the leftovers of second- and third-degree burns, and Dosu, implacable, practical Dosu, flinched slightly and started to put them back on again. Zaku had laughed it off and pulled both his lovers into a rough hug, but the memory of it remained, as did Dosu's insisting on kisses given and received through layers of linen.

So it was really to be expected. One look at that frivolous Leaf girl's crowning glory, and all Kin could see was red.

= = = =

Challenge was: colours