Written for the blindfold challenge in the KakaSaku LJ comm. It's 5 AM and my brain is woozy. I do not own Naruto or the characters, just this fic.
The Rash, The Allergy, and The Crescent Pond
SLAM.
Nurses turned around from their activities and glanced around with an annoyed expression, mouths gaped and ready to snap a remark on such an intolerable behavior in a hospital. The various degrees of incredulity expressed, however, slowly faded and replaced by a rather terrified look as they turned away from the door and resumed their jobs. The hospital director, too infuriated to even notice the suddenly hushed room, strode past the front desk and to the back of the room, straight in her office – which, behind her back, was called "the dragon lair".
"What's up with her?"
"Dunno. Time of the month, maybe?"
It was then the pink head of the dragon popped out from the half-opened office door to throw a remark. "Yes, please, do spend more time on this in-depth discussion about my menstrual cycle. I'm sure the dying shinobi in the wards wouldn't mind." With a glare, she retreated back to her lair.
Sakura slumped into her large swivel chair, subconsciously rotating it slowly back and forth. No, it was not her time of the month. She was merely tired; tired because the whole day she had spent handing proposals to the rich families of Konoha, hoping for some sympathy and donation for the hospital. She could have had her assistants helping her, but she preferred otherwise; she wanted a direct and personal approach, which would sound more urgent and important delivered by the director herself. The choice, however, left her mentally exhausted. Mere walks around Konoha did not drain the stamina of the kunoichi; the talks and argumentations did. It was pretty astounding how stubborn these rich people could be, and how extremely stingy they became. It took Sakura all her determination and self-control to not just punch the floor and break the ground, then run away with the money – but no, she sat there, quietly, patiently, basically begging in a more intelligent manner.
With a sigh, she sat straight and turned the swivel chair facing her desk. With almost a robotic and thoughtless movement, she picked up the folders on her desk and began opening them one by one, her tired seafoam-colored eyes scanning the contents. The last folder only had a memo in it.
The Hokage requested a meeting with the hospital director, ASAP.
The pinkette frowned. The Hokage never, ever asked for a meeting with her. If anything, he dreaded hospitals and medicines in general, you'd think he was allergic to the place. He always let his assistants deal with the hospital business, and most of the time the director herself had to initiate the meeting. So what changed? A swift turn of the chair and she faced the window, staring at the slightly pink and orange clouds. The hokage probably was still in the office, knowing his habit of staying until sunset before setting off from the tower. She stood up, turned off the lights of her office, and stepped out.
"I'm going to the Hokage Tower," she announced, to which one of the nurses responded with a snicker-turned-into cough and a meaningful look shot at her colleagues.
"Anything you'd like to say, Tomomi-san?"
The nurse's cheeks glowed red. "I—no, Haruno-sama. It's nothing."
"Very well. Resume your duties."
Sakura walked to the front door, anticipation seeping through her slightly faster pace and a small skip in her steps. She had her hand on the door handle as she heard Tomomi whispered excitedly, "Turns out she's not having her period yet, seeing that she's having some tonight."
"Tomomi-san, I'd also like to "have some" with you, first thing in the morning. Don't be late."
SLAM.
The dragon left the cave.
Sakura was right. She did find the Hokage still drowned amidst the papers and folders. It was much like her office: documents to be read, approved, signed, revised, rejected; letters to be read, replied to, decoded, archived; in short, paperwork which seemed to have stacked themselves in a never-ending cycle.
"Ah, Sakura," said Kakashi as soon as his ex-student opened the door and walked in. "I thought you'd come tomorrow."
Pink tinge tinted her cheeks, matching her hair in a somewhat odd way. "I thought you said ASAP."
"I said whenever you can, but probably that receptionist of yours wrote it wrong. I'm not complaining, though." One of his hands went to his back, scratching vigorously.
One eyebrow lifted high, the medic nin pursed her lips. "Skipped a bath this morning?"
"No, it's just..."
Then, he started taking off his vest, followed by his long navy shirt, revealing his toned torso with scars criss-crossing in several parts, a trophy of past battles. It was not exactly a rare view for Sakura; the man was reckless enough that she practically had seen every inch of his skin after various emergencies.
This time, it was different. Rashes covered his skin, almost covering his whole torso and arms. Long gashes were on his back, clearly a product of very strong hands scratching it continuously.
Sakura closed her eyes in a slightly repulsed manner. The best sclupture she ever loved and lusted after, tainted with horrible red rashes! How unacceptable. She promptly strode behind the desk and observed it.
"Looks like an allergic reaction," she said. "Hold on while I get a test pack from the hospital." She jumped out the window. He would obviously object coming with her to the hospital, so why bother asking? It was good enough that he even sought medical help.
An hour and a half later, she was sitting in front of him, holding his forearm in her hand.
"You're allergic to dogs." Her voice was firm, yet her gaze betrayed her assured expression. Of all people to be allergic to dogs, Kakashi had to be one.
"Pakkun and the others..."
"Are kuchiyose dogs. Also, some of these reactions often appear only after a specific amount of exposure. Went camping with any real dogs lately?"
He hesitated a moment. "The last mission was with Kiba..."
"Akamaru." Sakura nodded. She injected a tube of anti-allergens, and handed him a pack of them.
"How many days between my allergy shots?" he asked. His expression was still unbelieving.
"At least three." She packed up the test pack, putting the small bottles of various allergens in their slots.
"Does it start on the day I get my injection?"
"Yes." Seriously, when did the Hokage get his brain damaged? Scornfully, Sakura threw the used needles and syringes in the trash can in the corner of the office.
"So three days?"
The medic took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Yes."
"Does that include weekends?" asked Kakashi again meekly.
She opened up her mouth, fists clenching and opening as she restrained the urge to bust the office. Destruction meant more money for reparation, and that meant less funds to be allocated. The hospital was poor enough as it was, too. So with the thought of money in mind, she merely nodded and said a curt yes.
Haruno Sakura would swore that she heard her ex-teacher snigger at her frustration. Douchebag, she uttered quietly in her mind with frustration, yet she still held full control over her limbs - which was a pretty good thing.
"I think I'll call it a day," said the man. He flipped open his ever-present Icha Icha novel as he walked out of the office, nose buried between the pages. "You going home now, Sakura?" he asked from behind the hardcover.
"Maybe I'll go to have a drink or two. You coming?" The invitation was ever so subtle, so casual, but it was apparent that she expected him to accept, with the slightly tempting and sensuous tone she hushed.
"I'll skip. Maybe later. See you, Sakura-chan. Thank you for the meds." With a puff of smoke, he left behind a dejected pink-haired female dragon, and the dragon walked away, lips curled downwards.
She lost the mood to go drinking. Like what Tsunade-shishou once told her, "nothing could ruin the taste of sake like a broken heart." The fifth Hokage was right. Sakura did not even desire the one vice she inherited from her master, and instead of going to the small pub, she decided to go back home instead – through a long and winding route, taking basically as many detours as possible.
The Crescent Pond was a crescent-shaped small lake on the outskirts of Konoha. Sakura's detour took her to the rarely-visited site, lush and surrounded by trees. It was then that the impulse overwhelmed her.
Maybe it was the heat of the summer night, or the exhaustion enveloping her throughout the day, or the disappointment looming in her mood. Maybe it was a combination of either one. Whatever the reason might be, she was suddenly so flooded with the desire to just bathe, right there, under the moonlight in the crystal-clear water. Alone, just her and the lake.
Her steps slowed down. She lingered by the tip of the crescent, facing the full moon shining down. If anyone found out, she'd be dead. No, she mused as an afterthought. If anyone found out, they'd be dead. She cracked her knuckles, then took off her boots. The pink apron-like skirt followed after, then the red top and the tights. Lastly, she removed her underwear, and with a glorious splash jumped in the pond.
The water was cool, but not too cold. It was perfect, and contently she sighed, a little bit too loudly. She looked around with an alarmed expression, then, convinced that she was truly alone in the forest, let out a mixture of whooping and moaning – loudly, because honestly, who could hear her anyway?
Or so she thought.
"Sakura?"
The voice was familiar. Very familiar. It was the voice which used to soothe her when she was a mere scared genin, the voice which she had memorised perfectly to replay in her head. The voice appeared to have come from behind the curve, at the other side of the crescent. Her memory did not fail her. From behind the other side of the curve, swam a figure with a lean yet muscular silhouette. The figure which – ideally and poetically – would have shone a pearly sheen in the moonlight, but instead shone a reddish hue due to the irritation on his skin.
"What... I mean..." She would kill him. She really would. She would... but she wondered if...
Sakura tried to hide by submerging herself completely under the water surface, but then she was faced with the truth: underwater was the other half of his body, as naked as the top half. She gurgled in the water, pushing herself up in the surface, and coughed out the swallowed stale lake water. The sight of his... unclothed skin literally almost killed her. For that, she'd kill him. Would she? Maybe, after a long session of beating. Or touching. Her mind wandered freely, and her face burnt hot at the thought of unmentionable things. She hoped he couldn't read minds, or maybe she wished he could, just to make everything easier. Besides, it wasn't like he was not thinking of the same thing, or else it would be completely insulting to her.
"...Sakura?"
Oh, right, she had zoned out, again. Way to look smart. Not to mention that her gaze was fixed on his crotch the whole time, shamelessly gaping.
"The hell are you doing in here?" It was not precisely the thing she wanted to say, but it was certainly the most appropriate, considering the situation.
"I, uh... My shower broke." He was gazing downwards like a scolded child, but then again "downwards" was the direction pointing to her half-submerged breasts.
"Right." It was probably an illusion created by the diffusion of light in the waters or something, or had it been that huge?
"And it itches."
"It itches?" The pronoun just had to be there and replace whatever sensible noun to fill its place. "It" could refer to anything, anything at all, including the object she was eyeing from the lower corner of her eye. Thankfully women are better at hiding their gazes.
"It itches," he repeated with a somewhat tired tone.
"Should I help you with the itch?" Such an innocent question, filled with heavens knew how many innuendos.
"I'd be glad if you do."
A wide smile spread across her face. "Good."
And there you go. I'll let y'all imagine the pr0nz in your own dirty minds. The prompt/kink is... dun dun dun DUN. Skinny Dipping. Ohyeah. Do leave some love and comments 3