Title: To Be the Best
Rating: M
Summary: To strengthen the newfound peace between the lands, the Shinobi Countries are holding a tournament where the best of the best will come together in fights where honor, valor, teamwork and good sportsmanship are valued. But there is an unknown evil lurking in the shadows, waiting to find the perfect moment to shatter the dreams of peace and unity.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Warning: This story contains some adult contents.
Author's note: If I needed to, I would compare the Shinobi Tournament to the World Cup, only without a ball and more blood (ha-ha). And some of you may consider Sasuke OOC in this one, but I don't. You see, I don't picture him to stay cold forever, especially not after he's accomplished his goal and all. That said, I don't expect him to start singing and spouting love poems. I guess for me, whether he's OOC or not would depend on the extent of his changes and I hope I managed to cast him the right light. As for Return to Me, I'm terribly sorry for the lack of update but after my laptop crashed a month ago, I lost a lot of documents, the half-finished 7th chapter for RtM being one of them and since then, I couldn't exactly re-write it to my satisfaction. But I'm slowly getting my groove back and I'm hoping to post a new chapter very soon.
And for NejiSaku fans, visit my livejournal (link can be found in my author's profile) for a fic treat.
I made some adjustment with the last part of this chapter because I thought the adjustments were too little to post on my LJ
Enjoy this new story and remember to review. Bye
Chapter One: Chosen
Standing before the large solid-oak desk, Shizune stared at her mentor and leader apprehensively as the older woman continued to move her pen, the scritch-scratch of tip against paper deafening in the silence of the room. The Hokage was wearing one of her "serious" faces, as some called it, a slight groove on her otherwise wrinkle-free forehead, her brown-red eyes intent on the document in front of her.
Finally, when the black-haired assistant couldn't stand the silence anymore—an unusual occurrence in her mentor's office—she hugged the sleeping pig against her chest and blurted out, "Are you sure about this, Tsunade-sama?"
The blonde woman looked up and lifted a questioning eyebrow. "About what?"
"This. The tournament." Shizune gestured at the scroll beneath her leader's palm. "The instructions say to choose the best of the best. And that team—"
"Is the best of the best," Tsunade declared affirmatively. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing contemplatively. "I'm not choosing the best individuals, though granted they are of the elite—I'm choosing the best team. And when it comes to that, there's not a better one around. As individuals, they balance each other perfectly—as a team, they are truly a force to be reckoned with."
"But considering their history—"
"All the better," the Hokage interrupted. She sighed and a wry smile crossed her beautiful face. "The peace between the villages—between the countries—is still very fragile, Shizune. Despite the treaty that was signed two years ago, trust between the shinobi lands is still a rare commodity. This tournament is just one of the ways to show that we can work together, fight in a friendly battle, without allowing distrust and prejudice to interfere.
"As for my choice to represent Konoha, truth is, everyone knows of their history. In spite of the extreme hardships they've been through, this team has, in the end, managed to survive and stay loyal to each other, protect one another fiercely even when everything seemed stacked against them. That's what I want the rest of the ninja world to see—their loyalty, their trust, their friendship." Tsunade smiled at her apprentice, this niece of her deceased beloved. "Do you understand now, Shizune?"
Said ninja discreetly wiped a tear that had trickled from the corner of her eye at her mentor's impassionate speech and nodded vigorously. "Hai, Tsunade-sama, hai."
"Good." Tsunade gave the scroll one last scrutiny before placing her seal at the bottom.
After a moment, Shizune started hesitantly, "Ano, Tsunade-sama . . ."
"Yes, Shizune?"
"These two—" Shizune pointed at the two names filled in the list of participants "—they just got married."
"I know. I was there," Tsunade reminded the younger woman wearily as she recalled the day. Ninja weddings were always chaotic, but that particular ceremony with its interesting guests had made her praise Kami when it finally ended. Of course, she hadn't been able to thank Kami until a day later, when she woke up with the worst hangover of her life and the intent to murder the best man for drawing the markings of a fox on her face and writing "Obaa-san" across her forehead.
"Should we bother them, then?" Shizune asked worriedly. "They're newlyweds and this time of the marriage is very crucial—"
"They'd probably thank me for it. They haven't seen any kind of action in a while—at least not on the field," the Hokage added with a knowing smile that reminded her blushing apprentice of a certain romance novel author. "Knowing them, they've been itching for a good fight or two. In fact, they should think of this as my wedding gift to them—I didn't get them anything."
Shizune refrained to remark that it was because the older woman had gambled away the wedding gift and said, "I suppose you're right. Oh, I do hope they won't get into any trouble."
"With this lot?" Tsunade snorted. "Monkeys will sooner fly. I won't be surprised if they cause trouble. However, at least with them, I will not have to worry whether they can handle it or not."
"Demo, Tsunade-sama . . ."
"Yes?"
"That last participant . . . are you sure? He's never had a mission with them—at least not with the complete team . . ."
Tsunade grinned. "It's a gamble, Shizune, and this time, I know it's going to pay off."
Shizune could only suppress a shudder. As much as she loved her mentor, she knew the older woman wasn't named the "Legendary Sucker" for nothing. Kami-sama help us all.
"A Shinobi Tournament?" the pink-haired young woman wondered out loud as she read the scroll—which had been delivered by a squealing pink pig moments ago—in her hand. She held it up closer to her face. "Shinobi from all five great countries are obligated to participate and other shinobi countries would be welcomed as well. And look, the Land of Rice Fields is invited too!"
"Yosh!" the blonde-haired man sitting next to her exclaimed as he pumped his fist in the air. "Fight!"
Sakura rolled her eyes and glanced at her silver-headed former instructor who sat at the end of the table. His masked face was hidden by the dreadful book she had given up forcing him to throw away, seemingly not at all surprised by the sudden turn of events.
"Ano, Kakashi-sensei," she began, unable to drop the title even though he had officially stopped being her teacher years ago, "did you know about this?"
"The Hokage told me about it this morning," he answered without looking up.
"And you didn't think to tell us?" Sakura demanded. "We've been here for more than an hour!"
Kakashi shrugged, much to her irritation. She contemplated on throwing her half-eaten ramen bowl at him but knew the infuriating man would catch it before it hit his head.
"So what kind of tournament is this anyway?" Naruto wanted to know, leaning closer to her side to look at the scroll. "Like a fight-to-the-death kind or a let-me-show-you-what-I-can-do kind?"
"More of the latter," Sakura murmured as she continued to peruse the scroll. "And it's going to be held in Kusagakure—Grass Country." Her delicate eyebrows knitted. "That's hardly a great shinobi country is it?"
"Maybe they didn't want to offend any of the five great lands and decided to hold the event on a more neutral territory," came the remark from over her shoulder. She had to resist the urge to shiver in delight. His deep voice had never failed to rouse such a reaction from her, more so after they became husband and wife less than three weeks ago. And the feeling of his hot breath tickling the back of her neck as he stood behind her to read the scroll sent tingles running up and down her spine and for a fleeting moment, she thought longingly of the large bed in their master bedroom . . .
"Sakura-chan? Are you okay? You look flushed all of a sudden," Naruto observed with a worried frown.
She lifted a hand and cupped her heated cheek, thoroughly embarrassed to be caught blushing like a school girl. "I'm fine, Naruto," she answered tersely. "It just suddenly got . . . warm for a moment."
The low chuckle from behind her told her he knew exactly why she was currently imitating an apple. "Jerk," she muttered.
"What was that, Sakura-chan?"
"N-nothing, Naruto!" She waved her fingers back and forth in front of her face. "Nothing at all!"
Naruto's brows knitted but he decided to let it go. He glanced at the black-haired man standing behind her. "Ne, Sasuke, what do you think this tournament is all about?"
The Uchiha heir's smirk faded from his handsome face as he looked away from his wife, whose head was bent so low her nose was all but touching the scroll. "It says here that the tournament is meant to strengthen the ties between the shinobi countries. That's why even the minor ones are invited," he told his friend.
Kakashi finally spoke up. "Apparently, the governments decided that to observe peace between the lands, we should fight each other in a friendly competition. If you read further, the set up is almost the same as the Chuunin exams'. Obstacle courses, one-on-one matches, the whole ninja picture. They'll be testing your skills both as a team and as individuals, but with the stressing on teamwork."
"No killing," Sakura piped up hopefully. Despite her shinobi status, she wasn't the type to kill unnecessarily—not if she could avoid it—and definitely not over some trophy.
Kakashi smiled under his mask. "No killing," he echoed with a nod. "It's a friendly tournament, where unity and good sportsmanship are very important. They had one like this before, if memory serves me right, right after the Ninja World War, but it wasn't as large as this one promises to be. Not many villages participated because they were too busy recuperating from the damages the War caused."
"The politicians are really pouring it thick with their peace-between-all propaganda, considering even the Sound nins will be there," Sasuke remarked.
"Demo, Kakashi-sensei, isn't this a little too hypocritical?" Sakura asked, biting on her bottom lip. "In order to show peace the villages are going to fight each other and show who has the better warriors?"
"You shouldn't look at it like that, Sakura. This is more of a sports competition," Kakashi pointed out. "It's the countries' way of proving to all that they can engage in a fight without breaking the peace treaty. Winners will win honorably and the others will accept defeat gracefully. When it comes down to it, isn't that the basic of all sports?"
"I suppose," Sakura admitted reluctantly. "Oh, but the treaty is so very new! This would be the first time since the threat of another ninja world war that all the villages are gathering together. I hope no one gets it in their idiotic minds to start something."
"Of course they will," Sasuke declared with certainty. He sat down on the other side of his wife, gesturing at a nearby waiter to refill his empty cup of tea. "But with security being so tight and all the most skilled shinobi gathered in one venue, it's going to take a really big idiot to think that they'll get away with it."
"Yeah," Naruto agreed. He grinned at his female friend. "Don't worry, Sakura-chan. All the real bastards are gone—the leftovers are going to be a piece of cake."
"That said, we should watch our backs," Kakashi declared. "Even with the treaty, there's going to be some groups itching to hurt us."
Sakura said thoughtfully, "I wonder why Tsunade-sama chose us, considering our . . . involvement during the Great Battle two years ago."
"Didn't you read the scroll, Sakura? It says that all village leaders must choose the best of best. Obviously, we're the best of the best!" Naruto placed his hands on his hips, threw his head back and laughed boisterously.
"I think, Sakura," Kakashi began as he narrowly managed to dodge a certain prodigy's flying shuriken that had been meant for the laughing blonde beside him. "That it's because of the roles we played that we were chosen for this tournament. Tsunade wants the rest of the ninja world to know that she still trusts us, despite the stunts we pulled."
"What stunts?" Naruto demanded, seemingly offended. "We didn't do anything wrong."
"You'd be surprised, Naruto," Sasuke dryly. "This is probably hard for you to understand, but in some villages they consider disobeying their leaders' orders and turning away from a mission for personal reasons to be wrong. Imagine that, ne?"
Sakura frowned as she read a particular statement on the scroll. "It says here the tournament officially begins in less than three weeks but participants are encouraged to arrive ten days prior to get to know each other."
"What's this, a social call?" Sasuke scoffed.
"Actually, if you really think about it, it kinda is. Everybody together under one roof, promoting general welfare. That sounds like a social event, ne?" Naruto pointed out smugly, pleased with the fact that he figured it out before the prodigy did and one-up him for his earlier sarcasm.
"Urusei."
Sakura ignored them and chewed her inner cheek thoughtfully. "The date's pretty close isn't it? And this event is too sudden to be a spur of a moment thing so the governments must have been planning it for a while. How come we didn't hear about it sooner?"
When she noticed the crease near her former instructor's exposed eye, she set down the paper with a thump. "Kakashi-sensei, you knew about it, didn't you!"
"The tournament requires a participating member's vote on the venue," Kakashi simply stated.
"How could you not tell us?" Sakura complained, clearly annoyed.
"Yeah!" Naruto interjected. "We could've trained for it!"
"Naruto, Sakura, you guys don't need to train—at least not more than you usual do. This isn't a battle to the death, it's not a shinobi exam—it's a competition between skilled ninjas. If I thought you guys needed further training to be in the competition, than I wouldn't have agreed with Tsunade-sama's choice," Kakashi explained calmly.
Sakura blinked. "I think, in your strange, almost nonsensical reasoning, you just complimented us."
"Keh!" Naruto snorted. "Twenty-years-old and he's still treating us like we're twelve, making our decision for us," he grumbled, but there was no malice in his words.
"I have a question," Sasuke said. Everyone turned to look at him. "Do we go in as ANBU operators?"
"No," Kakashi answered. "Jounins. We're not being sent to assassinate anyone."
Sasuke almost, almost felt disappointed. He hadn't worn his ANBU uniform in the field for almost a month—not because he had been purposely shunned, but because there had been no missions where his particular brand of skills had been needed. And the missions he had been on lately hadn't been really interesting, either. A few assholes he could have easily defeated as a Chuunin, one exceptionally annoying escort assignment and bodyguard job that had him resisting the impulse to kill the client himself for "accidentally" touching Sakura far too many times. Lately, his only consolation had been helping to train new Jounins and ANBU nins and even then he couldn't do the things he wanted to do because that wouldn't have endured him to the Hokage. Personally, he was pleased with the upcoming tournament; only the best shinobi would be there and he looked forward to pitting his abilities against an opponent of an equal level.
Sakura could see the eagerness in her husband's eyes, though she knew it was only apparent to her. Over the years, she had come to know him well, albeit in a different way than Naruto and Kakashi had. While to the rest of the world he appeared calm and aloof, only to those he truly trusted did he reveal himself and she considered herself extremely fortunate to be one of those few, to be able to see past the seemingly cold exterior to the man who burned blue fire.
She reached up and brushed his bangs away from his face, a gesture that went unnoticed by their teammates, who were engaged in discussing about the tournament. She smiled when he caught her hand and gave it a brief squeeze before gently letting go. He was still unused to responding to her public displays of affection but he was getting there, she believed. And until then, she took great delight in being able to touch him or trace her lips fleetingly across his cheek without being pushed away.
"Ne, I just noticed something," Naruto announced as his bright blue gaze fell on a particular sentence on the scroll.
"Nani?" Sakura asked.
"It says here—" the blonde pointed "—that each village must select a five-person team. Since there's only four of us—"
"So you can count," Sasuke muttered loud enough for his friend to hear.
Naruto made a rude hand gesture but continued, "—and the rules require a five-person team, who's the sucker that got drafted with us?"
"Maybe it's Sai," Sakura murmured as she reached for the document that contained other information.
"He's still on a mission in Wind Country," Kakashi reminded her.
"Thank God," Naruto said with a relieved sigh. "We've already got one bastard on the team."
Sasuke narrowed his eyes and straightened in his seat. "Say that again."
Naruto opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Sakura gasped as she realized who the fifth member of their team was. "Oh my!"
"Who is it, Sakura-chan?"
"It's . . ." Her words trailed off as her gaze fell on a tall, dark-haired man who had just appeared at the ramen bar, pushing aside the red and white curtains.
Three sets of eyes turned to look at the man that had caught Sakura's attention. A pair widened in disbelief, another narrowed impatiently while the last pair—although only one eye was exposed—crinkled with amusement.
The man grinned, showing off a set of perfectly even white teeth, marred only by the senbon sticking out of his mouth.
"Yo," Shiranui Genma said with a small salute and a wink toward the only female teammate. "Lookin' forward to workin' with you guys."
"Well, Naruto wasn't exactly pleased, was he?" Sakura commented with a dry smile as she folded a pair of pants and placed it into her open satchel.
Sasuke, sitting at the corner of their bedroom while he sharpened his already-razor-like weapons grunted in agreement, allowing a corner of his mouth to curve upwards. "Are you surprised? He finds it difficult to let anyone enter the team. How do you think he's going to act with Genma, considering the stunt he pulled a year ago?"
Sakura laughed as she remembered the story she'd heard from Kakashi about a prank Genma had played on Naruto involving multiple jugs of sake and a cross-dresser. "Naruto should've known better than to enter a drinking contest with Genma," she mused out loud. Her amusement faded and a frown appeared on her lovely face. "I hope he won't let his personal feelings jeopardize the tournament."
"Naruto's more professional than you think."
Sakura shot her husband a look. "Meaning he'll work hard to win the competition but at the same he'll work hard to get even with Genma as well?"
Sasuke smiled. "Exactly."
He was beautiful when he smiled, she thought and then had to laugh at herself. He'd probably give her one of those infamous glares of his if she were to tell him so. Men aren't beautiful, he would tell her, annoyed, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. But he was. Although in recent years he'd began to smile more often, the occasions were so sporadic that she cherished each and every one of them as she would gold. She loved it when he smiled. Not the arrogant, I-am-Uchiha-Sasuke, bow-down-to-me smirk, but a real smile, one that reached his eyes and softened his sharp features.
She glanced at the bedside table on which she'd placed two photo frames. One was of the two of them on their wedding day—she portrayed the perfect epitome of a blushing bride with her rosy cheeks and shy smile while he stood behind her, darkly handsome and imposing, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. He hadn't wanted to take a picture but she had cajoled him and when the time came to pose he had been perfectly willing to stand beside her, his face stoic to the point of looking bored. But he hadn't appreciated the way the photographer had stared and leered at his new wife and thus that was how the picture came to be. Sakura smiled and recalled the extra tip she had given the photographer.
Her eyes strayed to the other picture, that of Team Seven, taken several months after the peace treaty. In it she stood between Sasuke and Naruto with Kakashi standing on the other side of the blonde. They were all smiling at the camera—the corner of Kakashi's eye was crinkled—and they were in their Jounin jackets. It had been a great day for them. The treaty was being carried out properly, any signs of rebellion had been taken care of and Team Seven had been given the week off. Naruto had eaten so much ramen that morning he'd been having trouble walking while Kakashi had been overjoyed—disturbingly so, Sakura thought—over the latest edition of Icha Icha Paradise.
For a second Sakura recalled another picture, wrinkled and slightly yellowed with age, safely tucked in her memory chest, where Kakashi had still been tall enough to stand behind them without being overshadowed. We've come so far, she thought wistfully. Sometimes she couldn't believe how her life—how their lives—had turned out. Once in a while she would wake up in the morning expecting to see the ceiling of her bedroom in her parents' house, her girlish heart eager to begin training in hopes of impressing a certain black-haired prodigy. And then she would roll on to her side and breathed in the lingering scent of her husband on his pillow—he was such an early riser it was ridiculous—and remember that her childish dreams had come true and she was now the black-haired prodigy's wife. Although how they had gotten to this point had not been how she'd dreamed it would be, they did get there. And in the end, she knew she couldn't begrudge the years of his absence. In some ways it had taken him leaving for her to realize the difference between a childish infatuation and a woman's love.
As she finished folding the clothes she would need for the next two weeks or so, her mind wandered to the tournament. She grimaced; with her work at the hospital, she was the one in the team who hadn't seen field action the longest. While she had disciplined herself to train for at least an hour everyday, she knew she was slightly rusty. She could only hope she wouldn't embarrass her team and her village at the tournament. Though she had come a long way from the insecure twelve-year-old she had been, there were still moments when she doubted herself. Especially, she mused wryly, when my overprotective husband and his overbearing best friend refuse to let me join in a fight.
She turned to look at said husband; he had finished sharpening his weapons and had lined them up on a nearby table, admiring them the way a proud mother would do her children. If Sakura weren't disinclined to be glared at, she would laugh at the expression on his face. Her husband was a shinobi to his very bones.
Her amusement faded when she returned her thoughts to the tournament. "Ne, Sasuke-kun?"
He looked up at that. These days, she no longer placed the suffix in his name unless if she wanted to say something that she knew would irritate him—or if she wanted to, for lack of a better term, get frisky. And since his wife wasn't showing any signs of taking off her clothes, he was inclined to think she wanted to do the former and braced himself with a quiet, resigned sigh.
"What is it?"
"This tournament . . . it's almost like a sports competition, right? Like Kakashi-sensei said?"
"Yeah," he answered slowly, perplexed.
"So you won't take it seriously, ne? I mean, not too seriously, not like you would, say, an ANBU mission." Sakura wrapped her arms around her waist and smiled nervously at her husband. "It's just a friendly competition, after all. So you won't have to use all of your skills . . . and when I say all of your skills, what I really mean is the Mange—"
Sasuke interrupted her babble. "I get it." He almost smiled; as usual, his wife was worried about him, even though it was absolutely unnecessary. Since the Great Battle between Konoha and Sound ended more than two years ago, he had resorted to using the more dangerous abilities of his blood limit—mainly the Mangekyou—only during dire situations, such as S-rank or at times A-rank missions. He knew Sakura had concerns about the Mangekyou, not only because of how it affected him physically if he used it for long periods, but also because of the effect it had on his bloodlust.
"I understand the rules," he told Sakura. "Unless the threat is serious, I won't use the Mangekyou. Or kill anyone," he added when she opened her mouth.
She smiled and nodded happily, her ponytail swishing as she turned around to zip up her bag. "Good. Because this tournament is supposed to promote goodwill between the countries, after all. I guess I shouldn't have to worry. You're going to fight accordingly and not interfere in my fights either," she added that last one in a off-handed tone of voice, hoping against hope that her husband had already started to tune her out the way he had when they were kids.
Unfortunately, things didn't always go the way she hoped. Her husband, with his acute sense of hearing, put down a kunai he had lifted to inspect and said, "What?"
She turned around, wringing her hands nervously at her stomach. "Sasuke," she began calmly. "I'm a shinobi and I can fight."
"You think I don't know that?" he asked just as calmly.
"You sure don't act like it. On the last several missions we were assigned together, you interfered in my fights when you thought the situation was becoming dicey when in fact, I could have handled it by myself."
A muscle ticked in his jaw and his beautiful black eyes—which currently resembled black ice chips—narrowed. "I didn't know protecting you was considered interference."
Sakura let out a heavy sigh and went to stand in front of him, their knees almost touching. "Sasuke, I love you for wanting to protect me," she said and his eyes gentled slightly. "But I'm a shinobi—a skilled, elite shinobi."
Sasuke lifted an eyebrow. "So what do you want me to do?"
His wife took a deep breath and slowly released it. "This tournament—you and I both know there will be a lot of shinobi of our level present. I want you to promise me that you'll trust me take care of myself, even if you think the situation is becoming dangerous," she added, knowing that when it came to her, things that weren't usually considered dangerous were perceived so by him. Once, a long time ago, she would have been perfectly thrilled by his protectiveness and although a part of her was still happy about it, another part of her—the kunoichi who was considered to be a part of an elite breed—wasn't. Admittedly, she had needed his help when circumstances were too dodgy for her skills alone, but there had been too many times—especially since they formed an exclusive relationship—when he had stepped between her and an opponent before she could even reach for her kunai. It wasn't a deliberate insult to her shinobi capabilities—she refused to believe otherwise—but rather an instinctive act. Naruto had snorted and told her it was probably Sasuke's way of hogging the spotlight, the teme—Naruto's words not hers—and since protecting her had never interfered with his own fights neither Kakashi nor Naruto said anything. Men.
He stared at her for a long time before bluntly saying, "No."
A frustrated groan escaped her throat. "Sasuke!"
He glared at her. "You expect me to sit back and watch you get killed? You really expect me to do that?" He had always thought she was a little bit reckless, but never stupid.
"No one's saying anything about getting killed, Sasuke. This is a friendly tournament—no one will get seriously hurt."
Sasuke scoffed. "Right. A tournament participated by highly-skilled shinobi who will fight each other to show who's best. Not to mention that some of them will probably target us. So yes, no one's getting hurt." He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "God, Sakura, if you believe that, you're more foolish than I thought." The moment the words slipped out, he could have kicked himself. Ah, hell.
Sakura's moss-green eyes widened with a slight hint of hurt—and a lot of anger. "You think I'm foolish?"
"Sakura—"
"I must be foolish—I married you, didn't I?" she shouted as she turned around and stomped toward the door.
Sasuke sprang to his feet. "Where are you going?"
"To Ino's! You can sleep alone tonight in your big, no-fools-allowed bed!"
Ino, as Sasuke remembered Sakura telling him a few days ago, was currently having a thing with Inuzuka Kiba. But a year or so ago, when Sasuke and Sakura's relationship had still not gone further than trusted friends, she'd went out on a couple of dates with Inuzuka, who had reportedly been crushed when she had decided to be with Sasuke. And now knowing that Inuzuka might be at Ino's place, Sasuke would be damned before he let his distressed wife go there to look for comfort. He wouldn't put it past the bastard mutt to not take advantage of the situation, even if he were in the house of the woman he was supposedly dating. And what was that crap about marrying him being foolish?
"Like hell you are," Sasuke spat as he followed his wife down the hallway of their house.
"Why? Afraid I might do something foolish?" she hissed over her shoulder.
"Sakura, you're being childish." Hello, foot, meet mouth.
She whirled around so abruptly they almost collided into each other. As it was, Sasuke had to reach out and steady her before she fell onto her butt. "Childish? Childish!" she practically shrieked. "So now I'm childish and foolish?"
"Damn it, Sakura." Sasuke tightened his hold on her shoulders. She struggled and he gave her a slight shake. "Kuso, will you stop it?"
Her head shot up and her green eyes glittered furiously. Much to his surprise, she thumped his chest with her fists—not enough to hurt because with Sakura, a solid punch could mean a trip to the other side of the village.
"Saku—"
She hit him again, her cheeks flushed red. "I'm not useless! And I'm not weak!" she cried.
It took him a moment, but he suddenly understood her almost hysterical vehemence and his heart softened in a way only Sakura could make it. As a Genin, she'd been told too often, even by those she considered her friends, that she wasn't cut out to be a shinobi, that she was weak and useless. He himself had been guilty of believing her to be those things when they were younger, but years ago, he had come to the conclusion that Sakura—his Sakura—was truly something special. She was one hell of a shinobi—and one hell of a woman. The fact that she had agreed to be his wife in spite of everything he had done was proof of the incredible person she was.
His hands slipped from her shoulders down to her back and he pulled her closer. She didn't resist, choosing instead to bury her face in his chest, her head fitting perfectly underneath his chin.
"I'm not weak," she repeated. "I'm not."
"No, you're not," he agreed firmly. "You're not useless and you're sure as hell aren't weak."
"Then what is it?" she demanded bemusedly.
"You're my wife," he replied simply.
Sakura's anger instantly melted. Sasuke wasn't the type to express his emotions with words—he was more of the action-speaks-louder kind of man, but the moments when he did say something sentimental (or as close to sentimental as he was ever going to get) she knew she didn't have a chance.
She pulled back slightly and scowled up at him. "That's not fair," she pouted, hitting him once more though this time there was no actual anger behind it. "You can't say something like that in that voice and expect me to stay mad. You're supposed to let me stew and—and—"
"Sakura."
She sighed, staring at the front of his shirt. "You don't play fair," she complained.
"I don't play at all," he shot back wryly. It was his turn to sigh as he brushed her bare arm with his fingers. "I meant what I said, Sakura—you're my wife. I can't not protect you. Even when you weren't my wife, when we were just friends, I kept protecting you."
"You don't do that with Naruto or Kakashi," she pointed out mulishly.
He smiled that rare, beautiful smile of his. "They're not as pretty."
A light blush appeared on her cheeks and was instantly irritated with herself. "I hate it when you do that—it makes me feel easy," she muttered. "All you have to do is smile and give me a compliment and it's poof—hook, line and sinker."
"I should be grateful that only works with me, then," he said, thinking of all the men that had showered her with gifts and love words. He tilted her head back to look at her. "Listen to me. I don't doubt your abilities—I know firsthand how well you can cope, but you know it's against my nature to sit back and let you get beaten."
That was true. Even during their early days in Team Seven, when he'd made it so obviously clear of his feelings—or lack of them—for her, he'd always stepped in between her and danger. Back then, they had both believed—even when she decided to take the hopelessly optimistic approach—that he had done it simply because he hated to lose and an attack on her would mean a lost to the team.
But the two of them had come a long way since then and she was no longer the girl who complied to his every wish—Kami, had she really been that sad?—and demand. She lifted her chin stubbornly and narrowed her eyes at her husband. "Sasuke, you're talking as if I'm going to my ass kicked. Do you want me to bring up the fact that I got made ANBU before either you or Naruto did?"
He scowled. "That was under special circumstances. The ANBU needed a highly-talented—"
"That's right."
"—medic-nin," he finished tightly.
"An ANBU is still ANBU nonetheless. I had to go through the same torture you guys had to—heck, they probably went harder on me because I'm a woman." Sakura noticed the muscle tic in his jaw and knew it wasn't the time to roll her eyes. It was still somewhat of a sore spot for him—and Naruto—that she had donned on the ANBU uniform before they did. Not that they weren't proud of her but men and their egos were a funny thing.
"Sakura, you can't truly expect me to watch you in danger and do nothing? For that matter, do you expect Naruto to do the same?"
She snorted. "No offense, sweetie, but your idea of danger when it comes to me could be a funny look from the enemy. And Kami, don't even get me started on Naruto. And it's very hypocritical of you two too, considering the risks you both take during missions." She raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "Admit it. When it comes to me, you two have a mother-hen complex."
He gave her an incredulous look. "A mother-hen complex?"
"Trust you to hone on that comment," Sakura mumbled. She sighed heavily and gripped his shirt with her hands. "This isn't getting us anywhere so how about we compromise?"
Sasuke vaguely recall on how on the night before his wedding, Kakashi had placed his hand on Sasuke's shoulder and told him that his life would probably be easier if he had chosen a less smarter bride. Sasuke had ignored him, particularly because his former teacher had been rather intoxicated courtesy of Naruto and several barrels of ale.
Now, though, Sasuke couldn't help but wish his wife wasn't the smartest kunoichi he'd ever known. Of course, if she had been less intelligent, he wouldn't care for her as much as he did.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked, resigned.
"You let me fight and you won't interfere." He opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off by adding, "Unless I ask you to."
He frowned. "And what if you're too injured to ask for help?"
She placed a hand on her hip, her brows knitting. "Sasuke, do you think I don't know when I have to ask for help? Do you think I'm foolish?"
It was on the tip of his tongue to answer "yes" but he didn't want her to spend the night at Ino's. And he didn't think truly she was a fool—far from it—but he knew how stubborn she could be. What if in a desperate attempt to prove that she was good enough, she continued to fight even though she knew she couldn't take on her opponent alone? He knew it was possible—he'd been guilty of doing the same once or twice.
"Sakura—"
She tugged on his sleeve. "Please." Her eyes were round as she looked up at him pleadingly. "This competition is important to the village. It's not only our skills as a team that will be judged, but also our skills as a shinobi. I need to able to prove to the rest of the ninja world that I can fight without my hot, tough husband or my loud friend-slash-teammate helping me out."
He looked chagrined at the 'hot, tough husband' part. He looked into her eyes, shining like emerald pools. "Fine," he finally declared. He pinned her gaze with his. "But you will ask for help if you need it." He wasn't going to take any chances; he'd lost too many things in his life already.
She grinned. "I promise." She rose to the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his mouth. "You really are a wonderful husband, you know."
"Hn," he grunted, but he returned the kiss, running the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. When she opened her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside and his arm tightened around her.
Sakura moaned when his hand brush her breast and hip to cup her rear end and as her blood heated and her pulse quickened, she threw her arms around his neck, her fingers slipping into his thick, unruly hair.
He didn't break the kiss as he lifted her up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and carried her to their bedroom. In there he set her down to undress her and then himself, his dark gaze heavily lidded as he stared at her naked body. She trembled under his scrutiny, her heart beating heavily in her chest, her lungs threatening to withhold air. She did a little bit of her own staring, her eyes roaming over the smooth, hard planes of her husband's body. He was so gorgeous, it was unfair. As a boy, he had been undeniably good-looking, but as a man . . .
Her arms once again wound around him as he pressed her to the bed, covering her smaller figure with her own. He kissed her, hard and full of passion and she moaned under the onslaught of his mouth. Some people would think that because of the cold personality he presented to the world, he would be indifferent in bed, but Sakura knew better—Uchiha Sasuke was really a genius at everything.
She gasped as he tore his mouth away from hers, his lips trailing down the side of her neck in a damp trail. Lust pooled in her lower belly, hot and intense, and she wriggled her hips, feeling the extent of his desire for her.
"Sasuke," she panted, her fingernails digging into the rounded muscles of his shoulders as his oh-so-talented mouth found her breasts, warm to the touch and swollen with her need for him.
His hands roamed possessively over her body, touching each hollow and curve. Silky-soft skin met his fingers and he traced circles around her navel, brushing the line where hip met thigh and triumphing in the strangled cry that escape hiswife's slim throat.
She was shaking hard by the time he thrust into her and her hips arched off the mattress. He gazed down at her and had to clench his jaw; she was beautiful like this, her face flushed with desire, her moss-green eyes so dark they were almost black. Her lips were puffy from his kisses, his name a constant mantra on her tongue.
He wrapped his arm around her waist to lift her higher against him while his other hand tangled in her long, pink locks. He tugged her head back and his mouth crashed down onto hers and he tasted the sweetness that was his wife. His.
"Sasuke!" she cried out as he withdrew and then pushed back in. Her head fell back and she wrapped her legs around his lean waist, pulling him deeper within her. "Oh!"
The muscles in his abdomen clenched and he was breathing as raggedly as she was. Uchiha Sasuke did not like to lose control but here, in the privacy of his bedchamber, with hiswife's delightful body surrounding him, he made an exception. He quickened his pace, moving deeper, harder.
When he felt the tightening of her body, he halted, holding her still when she attempted to press herself upwards. "Sasuke!" she protested. She was so close . . .
His grip on her almost stung and she gasped as she looked up at him, into his black eyes, where a hint of red was barely visible. It should have frightened her, his intensity, but it didn't. She lifted a trembling hand and touched his cheek. "What is it?"
"Promise me that you'll be safe, Sakura," he said harshly. "I need you to be safe."
Her eyes softened; there was that look in those dark eyes, the hint of vulnerability and self-depreciating because he hated the feeling. She ran a hand soothingly down his chest. "I'll be safe," she whispered.
Apparently, something in her voice—or perhaps her eyes—convinced him and the tendons in his neck strained as he pushed into her with a deep thrust. She cried out, clinging to her husband as she lost herself to the almost unbearable pleasure, vaguely aware that he too found his release.
And for the rest of the night, they both forgot about the approaching tournament as they found pleasure in each other's bodies.
To be continued . . .
Woo. I hope I didn't make that last scene seem tacky. And I hope it wasn't so detailed that I'd get in trouble with the powers that be of The scene was too short for me to go through the trouble of posting it on my LJ but I promise if ever I write a scene that is too detailed, I won't post it here, because I'd like to respect the rules of this website. Anywho, please show me some love by giving me reviews.