A MuraToshi Fanfic

By S. Initaka

Initaka Satoshi had been trailing the two demons for months. And it was beyond difficult. Their footsteps are like breaths in the dust, and without the demon fangs he drove into his own chakra, he would have lost them long ago. All his thoughts met the same end: they know I'm here. They must. But for some reason, her brother doesn't turn. Why?

At the point, he knows that Murasaki could care less whether he's following. She's long since accustomed herself to his presence; that became their first acknowledgment of each other. But Nakamura Andrei is another matter…he's serious about protecting his sister, and he would never trust someone from the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Not after the war which wiped out his people. And, then, Satoshi himself had been the one to profit from that war. His village had chosen him, for his talents with lightning jutsu, to take on all those demon fangs, one after another in an endless string of pain…but he didn't remember any of that any longer. It was not a personal memory. It was a fact, as you could read from a history book. It was the story of his creation, and it had absolutely nothing to do with him.

He finally stopped, taking a breath. The sun was setting low in the sky, boiling on the surface of the road. Murasaki and her brother had decided to settle down for the night, it seemed. That meant he had to find somewhere to sleep as well. Not too close, not too far. In a fight, either of them could take him down. So, it was best not to appear to be a threat…though…he couldn't keep following forever and never make contact. He had two years to seduce her, and it had already been half a year.

He suddenly doubled over, clutching his heart. That pain, again…! Every time he thought of his love for her…that pain came to him. Why? That pain, a wisp of memory stringing through his heart and tightening 'til it bled…but he had never felt love before. So where was this memory coming from? Did it have something to do with Saito…? He stood up straight, listening…but more importantly, feeling. His demon fangs allowed him to sense other demon chakras. Saito was traveling with a half-demon, so if they were nearby, he would know. Damn Saito. Saito should hate him by now. So why did it seem that Satoshi could see Saito's shadow darting across the path behind him at every shifting of the light? Never close enough to touch, never close enough to see one another. He had to keep it that way.

He stood straight again and headed off the path, into the wood. Unpacking his things, he arranged his little 'home': bamboo mat, kettle with dried tea leaves tucked inside, cup, salted meats and rice balls rolled in plastic…Suddenly, he caught the smell of minerals. Curious, he stood and followed it. He smiled. A hot spring! As much as he prided himself on hygiene…it hadn't always been available. But this was perfect! He rushed back to his camp and roughly grabbed his towel. Throwing off his clothes, he wrapped it around himself and ran back to the springs. Laying the towel on a rock, he slowly slid into the hot water. He tilted his head back in pleasure…the warm water relaxed his sore muscles, and the feeling of taking in a breath of steam was divine in comparison to how he had been living. Sighing, he thought of his life on the boats, at sea…he had never been in want of anything there. Everything he asked for was provided to him. He even had a girl…as the steam condensed on his muscles, he wondered….why did I leave?

It was at that moment that he felt something touch his hair. Reaching up, he felt cloth, and looking, he saw another towel was thrown over the rock he had used. He heard a splash from the other side of the rock and that same contented breath that he had experienced just a moment ago. But the feeling that resonated in his fangs was what made his heart stop…it was Nakamura Murasaki. A feeling of an entirely different kind of warmth came over him now.

He sensed carefully…but her brother was nowhere nearby. He was surprised. She never went anywhere by herself; that's why it had been so hard to be near here, to let her know that he was faithfully following her as he promised. He had yearned for all these months just to be able to touch a strand of her hair, to tuck a flower behind her ear as he raced past her, too fast for her to even see who had done it…

He remembered a days in Konoha that he had spent, sitting among the cherry blossoms while she lay sleeping against the tree. A book in her hand, that she had only been half-heartedly reading, her face tilted to the side so that he could look down upon her face. Her dark eye lashes kissing her pale skin, lips half-closed and half-inviting, and her black hair flying like ravens' feathers in the wind – in a frame of cherry blossoms. He smiled so fondly then…when they had first met, it was determination and ferocity in her eyes…but what he enjoyed most were her rare moments of peace. He knew that finding peace from her pain, a pain they shared, was possible only in sleep. So he watched over her, emotions lost in the black pools of his eyes, until he saw the flicker of her awakening. A rustle, she looked up, the boughs were empty.

He knew his love could not be requited. But, still, he followed her, like a shepherd the stars. He wondered if her boyfriend thought about her half as often as he did…he snapped out of his thoughts, hearing the sound of water again. She must be bathing, he thought…but of course, his thoughts wandered to other things as well…the water dripping from her hair and rolling down her neck, around the firm surfaces of her breasts…Once again, he had to snap out of his thoughts, but this time he had forced himself to. The thoughts of her and the hot water were working together to cause too much arousal for comfort at the moment. He had to plan his escape right now. He stood, crouching down below the rock and tugged at his towel, to see if he could move it without moving hers too much. Didn't work. But he couldn't leave his towel here; not only would she later see it and guess it was his, thinking he was some kind of pervert watching her bathe, but he would also have to run back to his camp naked…the cold air was already stinging his flushed manhood enough.