Deadly Obsession
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I have reached the age whereby contents of 'Come come paradise' are common knowledge to kunoichis like me. I have reached the height and achieved the slim body, curvy in the right places and sloping up where they should be. The snow of my sixteen birthday fell around Konoha village a month ago.
Instead of focusing on training, my mind is a jungle full of scuttling thoughts, each demanding a beam of consideration given to it. A few nights ago, his soft kisses emblazed me in the fiery passion he initiated. My chakra soared, as high as stars smiled and my heart beat faster than the repetitive collisions of meteors. I had him, the attention I constantly sought for from him I received with wide open doors in my every pore. Be it short term or temporary, the memories of us getting hot and heavy amidst the cool beam of the moon are deeply etched over my scars. However, the satisfaction I thought I would embrace did not fill my cup to the brim. Inside my heart was once a void space, now ambushed by hurt, torn up devastation and so much adolescence angst raging in me.
The pain I involuntarily consume followed me for more than five years. My smiles are facades of the tears I shed at night. At the academy, endurance tests and serious boot-camp trainings are shoved at my face, leaving me weary and drained. I see all my friends catching up, running ahead of me and I know if I don't wake up from the illusion that's hounding me like a ghastly vulture, I will be left behind, unpromoted and forgotten in the desolated, abandoned track.
Sasuke, he's still finding his true self that is concealed beneath veils of harden hatred. It takes a lot of effort to suppress those old-world hurt and forgive, but he preserves on. When I see him struggling, I ask myself what am I doing for myself?
Naruto, pfffff-!, he's starting to be a hero ego-wise. Hinata's immaculate pupils are starting to deepen with maturity and flashes of concentration- she's improving, while I am moving back, trapped in a time-warp. And there are the rest in the class, Kiba, Shikamaru, and all I am too despaired to point out.
Right now, all I want is sensei. Jounnin rank, new skills that will be mine after hard training, the village to be mine to control once I accept my blond teammate and offer him my heart for safekeeping in return for all these material gains- all of these I don't want.
He has been avoiding me these days and all these while, only having a conversation if someone else is around. By doing so, he thinks he can shut me out of his life and our prim and proper, yet by reckoning appropriate teacher-student relationship will not be affected. He is slicing every meat off my bones and hollowing out my soul, leaving me stranded, hurt and alone, supported merely by mortal breathing. The emptying shell of me laughs airily at jokes others tell, gives intelligent answers during classes and jostles to be the model student of all time. They don't know it's not me.
I think I'm going crazy. My chest feels tight whenever I think of him and the stabbing pain in my tummy is getting more intense. It's turning out to be a deadly obsession and may cost me my life. Is it worth it?
Kiss me. Kiss me, sensei. I want you so much.
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The local temple fair I am now is roaring with enthusiastic gong clashes mingled with the occasional shaimen lovesong- pure tune. Sidewalks are teeming with spring daffodils and peonies in deep-set romantic red colors. When I thought no one was looking, I nick a stalk of peony- little girl's romance flower for luck, and crush it in my palms, allowing the petals to whirl down, like catkins caught in a gust of wind. It's cheap-thrill magic.
I am glad to be left alone. A while ago, Naruto stalks me and floods my arms with little gifts of candies, bamboo bowls of goldfishes he caught and heavily-painted paper Tanuki masks he forced strapped to my wrist. He 'shove it!' once I glare daggers at him and murmur something about Sasuke and then he gets the drift. I didn't mean to hurt him, but HE is nearby.
That thieving ninja who stole my heart is a few feet away, engaged in deep coupling with Rin. Today, she wears her hair in an elaborate bun with tendrils of escaped dark wavering curls bouncing on her high cheeks bones. Her cheeks are a glorious shade of rosy red and naturally long eyelashes flutter as she heaves with laughter from what sensei is saying. Her ample bosoms hidden inside layers of ravishing lilac kimono heaves together with her laughter, they- her body and sensual voice are buddies for sure. Rin is the sort of woman who can make a male trip with just one look. In fact is she everything I am not.
On the other hand, HE is not looking at the pair of ripe peaches like those licentious village men at the fair smirking at her, with an arm draped across the waist another powdered face girl. HE respects and I admire him for that. HE turns away to purchase some hawball candy from a walking vendor, and feeds her. Her head tilts as if she was about to kiss him and her lips part in respond to the first ball he pushes in. Her tongue curls around his index finger, sucks lightly at the tip, pink with chilliness before pulling back. The action is almost like sex without really doing it. My breath hitches and I feel the ache in my chest resurfacing.
Have they no decency? Desire flashes in his uncovered eye. She says something and this time he laughs. Deep and throaty. I want to tell him to save that laugh and tone for me but what am I to him to demand that?
I know HE hardly eats in public, and sneaks a few gulps of sake every now and then. I wonder how much of his lifestyle have I memorized?
Sensei is tall with broad shoulders. His slivery hair bed is raggedly glam and spiky and he keeps it short. It is as much as I can do not to dash over, interrupted their flirtatious date and run my hands through it. There is a thrusting certainty about him. Some distant lavender perfume of Rin's impregnates the spring wind. It makes me feel afraid to have such strong surges of intense jealously and somewhat hatred coursing in me. It wearies me so much. I am fearful of losing my mind to these jutting emotions.
Glancing at the beautiful couple from a distance, I wonder if I should use my trump card and win the game.
I was eleven, he was nearing twenty-four and he took the most precious thing I ever possessed away from me.
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Darkness conquered the place like vicious armies in a widespread man-made bloodbath. It was not yet evening, yet the sky drew its raven curtains shut and the wind wailed for a lost child.
The clothes I wore were not suitable to the harsh weather. The woven cloth was thin and cold penetrated through it to attack my skin and mug my warmth as soon as I greeted it.
"Jutsu is not working; it must be the cones of mutant limestone stalagmites absorbing my energy." Sensei noted, a ghost of panic shadowed his masked face for a spilt second in the slanting dim light. He quickly turns away before he reveals that he, for the first time, is fearful. "There is some element present in the cave to absorb chakra. Sakura, how is your chakra?"
"Uh?" The violinist was reaching high E-notes with strings of wind looped over his malicious violin. I couldn't hear him clearly.
So he shouted again.
"I can feel it diminishing." I yelled back, teeth chattering and cheeks dotted with frostbites.
"Ninja art summoning technique!"
Nothing happened.
"Ninja Art Summoning technique!" This time he punched the ground with extra vigor. Nothing happened again and I stared at him blankly.
"Damn it," he swore.
"Kakashi sensei, I'm cold!" I complained for the umpteenth time, the chill seeped through my bones, making me feel ill at ease.
His warm eyes directed to me and without a word, he carried me, deposited me onto his lap and pressed me to his chest.
So we sat in that position for ten minutes, watching the snowstorm spin monstrous-sized snowflakes with the dangerous sharpness of carving knives, whirling and whirling around like duckweed in the breeze.
"Kakashi sensei, I'm still cold."
The temperate dropped to minus twenty degrees and the chilliness I encountered is numbing my senses as I felt blood freeze in my body. Shivering vehemently, teeth chattering faster than usual from both cold and fear, a forceful swipe of gale caught me off guard and shoved me to the ground.
"Sakura! A-are you h-hurt?" He asked, eyes crinkling in concern and stammering from the cold.
Through my ragged breathing; my chest felt stuck and uncomfortable, I managed to be well enough to response and at least fail my arms around. "I'm going to faint, my body's numb… can't feel my knees."
He stayed silent for a moment, mulling and mulling, and a guilty expression wandered across his face. "Sakura, how do you feel about being frozen to death?"
"I don't want to die sensei!" suddenly I was aware of my weaknesses, my vulnerability to Mother Nature's playtime. His somber grave-like tone scared me so much; I thought he was serious and that we would perish together.
"Then, forgive me for what I will be doing."
Kakashi sensei took off his vest shakily, laid it down on the stone floor and put me onto it so that I would not be in contact with the frostiness of the ground.
At that time, there was little I knew about bed business. Doing the cloud and the rain was an obscure topic not even our Hokage Tsuande would reveal some knowledge to us girls. All I knew that while doing it, the man moans into the girl's mouth as their bodies interlinked and convulse violently.
Almost like in a rush, he tugged off my shorts and rubbed the space between my inner thighs. The cold air which prickled my bare skin was repulsed by an instant sense of warmness tingly to my toes. Sensei's fingers, thrust in and out of that cave in me. I found that penetrating action sordid and tried to edge away from him. His grip on my thighs loosened but he held me back tightly. It was making me feel uneasy.
"Stop, I beg you. Stop."
"Don't move, I'm trying to make your feel better." As soon as those words left his mouth, I doubted if he really meant it. His breathing hitched and frantic hands tore me open. I could tell he was getting sexually excited.
"I'm not cold anymore, let go of me." I was ashamed, ashamed of my nudity, his face peering at the space between my legs and him touching places, even the thought of stimulating a response from the warm redness has never entered my mind.
"Don't move," He commanded again, and I felt a strange obedience to comply welling up in me.
And he continues, twirling his fingers over the little hilly nub down there, as if opening a safe, the combinations dials rotating around and occasionally brushes against it lightly with the tip of his index finger. Over and over again, I felt jolts of tepid goodness and sultry nausea stifling up in me. My legs begun to thaw, and he brushed off the clinging flakey frost. All of a sudden, sensei's hand pressed something rounded in me and started to rub it hard, speed increasing with every second. For the first time, desire hounded me and bliss entangled me in a dangerous web of physical pleasure. Blood rushed to my head and my hips were seized with an aggressive shudder which made me buckle up and down when he continued.
As the rich feeling faded away, my eyes averted the piercing gaze fixed into me. My pubescent mind was thoroughly confused; how could something be so good yet so abhorring at the same time?
"I'm sorry," he kept saying, even as he fumbled with his trousers and his shadow loomed menacingly over me. "I promise to be gentle."
"Will it hurt?"
"No, it won't hurt so much."
"How do you know?" I don't want IT…
He did not answer. His words must be a lie.
The manly part of him was so large, formidable and daunting. I had never seen something like that before, not even when Hinata and I peeped into male section of the public bathhouse. It swiped around my thighs, rock-hard and demanding to be satisfied.
Alarmed, I lost my nerves and put on a fierce struggle. Given my vulnerability as a girl and Sensei, a strong attacker I had no chance. Still, I tried my best to shove him away. His arms were tattooed with half-cresants etched deeply into the pale flesh and chest bruised with my weak pounding, still he lowered himself down. My flustered cheeks were washed with tears that trickled down in flowing streams. Arms thrashing in response to the dread hurling through all of me and knees locked tight while his fingers pried my legs apart.
"Let me go! I hate you, let me go!"
"Sakura, please relax." He said that so grimly and I felt a hole in my heart widen in preparation for an internal burial chamber. I hated his calm voice, his ghastly mask he probably wore to evoke mysteriousness and make the village girls swoon, our "any port in a storm" scenario and all that he was.
Anger overwhelmed me. If I were Naruto, the concealed fox demon in me would have brandished its fourth tail. But I stopped moving, tensed up and pressed my cheeks to the freezing ground, hoping that the cold would take me on a distant vacation.
Then he positioned that part of his and pushed in, in a swift motion. A shaft of rich pain engulfed me, splitting me into two as something tore brutally in me. I tried to push him away from me, but his vehement strength locked me to the ground. I struggled, panicked, and was desperate for help. I could feel him like a burning metal rod in me, deep, searching and going against the tightness of my inside.
At last, I surrendered myself to him and let him play with my body like an instrument hitting notes I never knew existed in me. His face was a canvas of pained expression, eyes closed and breathing through his mouth heavily; I wondered if it was hurting him as well as it was tearing me into unfixable pieces.
As he pushed in and out of my to a steady primeval rhythm, the roughness of his lower portion rubbed against my stomach and hairless body. For the first time in my life, I felt suffocated. A drowning sensation pulsed through me like the ebb and flow of an ocean. My head was plunged into the waters, and then lifted by angels who protect my cold body with the warmness of a radiance sun before encountering the waters again. The relentless assault on my body and senses was killing me. Blank hallucinations emptied my head and my visions were filled with immaculate blue skies I longed to see in this wintry state.
Kakashi sensei's head tilted sideways and he begun necking me. I felt his hollow hot breath curl into wisps and peck my exposed skin and at first my shoulder was saturated with some sort of liquid which I assumed was his saliva then I realized, in a mixture of woe and gloomy miff that it was his tears.
The cave echoed with the music of our body language- bodies slapping against each other and pieced with sudden deep moaning from Sensei. He continued littering my neck with trailing kisses; his throat rubbing against my skin. With my eyes closed, I felt the vibration of his moan reverberate from the back of his throat and turn low and husky with contact with the musky cave walls.
All these while his organ was in me, pain swallowed me up and lolled its slobbery tongue all over my lower body.
"You are so tight" Sensei groaned, and his actions sped up thrusting as fast as he could. His breathing, now shallow and huffed out in little moans.
Tight? What did he mean? Our interlocked positions? Or his muscular thighs in the middle of mine?
I detested the way he treated me as a toy, how he searched for pleasure through me, drowning in the shallow ravine that made me, surfacing for air before dipping back for more and more. How much of me did he demand for? What more does he want? Ardor was consuming me, making my body weary and divided, like a unraveled ball of yarn the kitty had attacked.
Rape. It was rape, except I felt an obligation to satisfy him. I was sure my insides were laced with bruises from his pushing in and out. Then, he shouted a swear word we as young chunnins were not allowed to use. I thought it was pain at first, and then my instincts whispered shamefully that it was overwhelming build-up pleasure being released.
Finally Sensei shakily climbed off me, forsaking my nakedness and leaving me to wallow in shame.
"You- you broke your promise," I bawled into my open palms, warming from the hot tears that continued streaking down my face "I hate you." My thighs are dripping with a treacle texture thick liquid. It's so revolting…
"I'm sorry," he said again, face masked up and back turned from me. I could sense that his heavily lidded languid eye huffing with dispiriting guilt and the other sinister one dotted in a bloodbath of scarlet still rotating in the socket, hazy from the explosive climax he reached.
"Sorry? Is that all you can say sensei? Will it give me back my virginity and make me clean again?" My throat itched with a type of stinging indignant, overwhelmed with fatigue. Jiraiya- sama once said that no one would marry dirty girls who whore around.
A sharpness spiked the air, clear and refreshing, pricking the senses to life. The blizzard has subsided and pine scent drifted in.
"I will marry you." His voice, calm and resounding gave me a temporary relief.
"Shut up, I don't want to marry you." My words were offensively childish,. I keep sobbing, the ignominy heaved onto my shoulders, my lost honor, and all that I never wanted pummeled found me and vacated me from the external world.
The blaming started from that faithful day. Everything that went wrong, I deemed him as trouble. Time after time, my mistakes I made, I censured Sensei and brought him into disrepute.
When we returned to the dojo, I hid my tear-stricken face and swollen eyes and attributed the frosty weather outside for my state. My concerned classmates gathered around me to exclaim in relief that I was fine, and I almost shoved them away. My sleeves hid my face, I was afraid they would look into my eyes and see from the wizened depths that I was now a real woman.
Sensei remained silent for the week and in the end, he informed Tsunade about the deed. Much to my digression, Tsunade praised him and said that he did well, but secretly I was infuriated.
Soon, as I matured and my mind no longing dreaming of sledding in the snow or linking daisy chains, I realized that Sensei suffered mentally much more than me. Behind the shoji paper screens and lattice seperators, I knew that he was tearing.
We drifted apart and never mentioned this again…
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Midnight will be arriving soon, yet the fair is still in full swing. I see the one makes my blood zing through my veins and differs a lightness to my spirit, choosing a handheld windmill for her. Purple, to match her outfit and hair accessories.
I don't want him and her. Rightfully, it should be me and him.
How I have come to love him, admire him, respect him, I have made no head or tail. Life is a mystery, a game. And I don't intend to lose.
Like sunset in the boulevard, and moonlight shimmers at dusk, I know I belong with him.
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Hawball- small sugar balls made from haw! Dark red, glazed with syrup. Kayti's favourite. It's yummier than gummies and mochi(I hate). Mmmm…
A somewhat sequel to 'Moon Basking'(check My Stories to read).. Are both stories even related, I keep asking myself.
Will Kakashi keep his promise to wed her? What will happen? Or will sakura find her soulmate in someone else?
Keep commenting and reading to find out!
I'll be having exams in Aug so may update should I decide to continue, in Sept.
By the way, if you fancy a good read with kaka kunerai asuma in it, there is an excellent story by ..down called "Passing strangers." Check "my fav authors".