Always
Chapter 2: Over Tea and Cookies
Although there was an enormous chance that her escape plan would fail, Akira was grasping at any opportunity she could. Sasuke was going to be out tonight, so here was her first chance.
This place was freaking her out. The people here were freaking her out. In the past day, she had encountered a walking venus fly trap, a shark man, who leered at her with unmistakeable lust, and another guy named Kimimaro, who looked like he had on colorful eyeliner. Although, a rather cute guy with colorful eyeliner. But a cute guy wasn't a good enough reason to stay, so in the dead of night, she crept out of Sasuke's room, closed the door silently behind her, even though he wasn't there, and slunk through the halls and corridors, pasting herself close to the walls. She pulled her coat tightly around her, glad she had remembered to put it on even though it was warm outside.
An hour later, Akira realized she was lost. The halls all looked the same. She found herself thinking, each time she rounded a corner, 'Wait… I think I've been here before….'
By the second hour, Akira half wished someone would find her. Her feet hurt and her legs ached, and she was thirsty. Akira wanted to peel away her coat, but it provided a comforting weight on her shoulders.
Footsteps approached.
"Hello?" she called out tentatively, scared and relieved at the same time. The torch light cast a back light onto the figure, so she couldn't see the person's face. "Who's there?"
"How bravely you forge through the nest."
She recognized that quiet voice.
"Kimimaro-san?"
"I hope you know there are still some Takas who don't know who you are, and would kill you at first glance."
"Then I'm lucky you found me."
"You don't even have a kunai knife on you."
"Is that concern I hear?" Akira teased. His impassive face was now in the light. Akira withered slightly under his indifferent gaze. Not the joking type, apparently.
"It is not my job to protect you. I believe you can't come out of Sasuke-sama's room unless he allows you. The next time, I will inform him of your disregard for his rules." He beckoned her towards him. "Come. I will lead you back to his room."
"I'm not going back," Akira said bluntly. Her eyes were the same onyx black as Sasuke's, but twice as defiant.
"That is not for you to decide." Kimimaro felt his pity for her grow. Her fervent rejection of Sasuke-sama's room…. Had it started already?
"I'm not going back," she whispered.
He regarded her with the same look. There was nothing he could do for Akira without betraying Sasuke. If she weren't an Uchiha, if this were any other time, Kimimaro would probably have guided her out of the hideout. She had kind, honest eyes, and a brilliant smile. But she was valuable to Sasuke.
They were the last remaining Uchihas now.
"I can't help you. I have orders to follow."
"You can pretend we never crossed paths," Akira suggested hopefully. "Then it wouldn't be your fault."
"… That would be dishonest."
Her eyebrows dipped and drew together, and her hands fisted. "Then I'll fight you. And if I beat you, you can tell Sasuke you couldn't stop me."
The same twitch lifted the corners of Kimimaro's lips again. "Alright," he decided.
"Excuse me?"
"If you beat me, I'll lead you outside. If I beat you… you will peacefully walk back into Sasuke-sama's room."
"Fine," Akira agreed.
"Fine."
There was a face-off moment, where they each evaluated the strength of their opponent. Akira desperately wanted to bite her nails, but she felt like if she make one wasteful move, no matter how minor, she would find herself back on Sasuke's bed, waking up from an unconscious stupor. Kimimaro looked at her expectantly, relaxed, ready.
"Well, come on, then," Akira said, her voice as shaky as her body.
Her position was completely wrong, Kimimaro instantly noted. Badly arranged feet and worse held fists. "'Kunoichi…' isn't your main profession, is it?" he finally asked after several more minutes of silence.
"No," she admitted. Her fists were still up. "But I can still —"
With untrained eyes, Akira thought Kimimaro had somehow, in a moment that contradicted the space-time continuum, teleported. One moment he was before her, and the next, he was behind, a hand clasped to her shoulder. "You lost," he declared. "Now, go back."
"Like hell I did. You didn't do anything to me yet —" The words caught in her throat when she heard a slight, crackling sound before she felt something sharp poke her side. Slowly, slowly, Akira looked down and followed the graceful, arching curve of the bone with her eyes until it led her to Kimimaro's side. It was jutting out from his side. It had clear, slimy looking liquid coating.
A scream swelled into a lump in her throat. She swallowed it, and then fainted.
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When Akira woke up, she couldn't tell if it was already morning, but immediately, she shut her eyes again and turned to face the wall when footsteps approached the room. If she feigned sleep, maybe that Sasuke guy would stop asking her questions, and maybe she wouldn't have to hear him talk about the Uchiha clan. For a cool, collected guy like him, he sure was annoying. No matter how many times Akira insisted she wasn't an Uchiha, that she had no business with that clan, he wouldn't listen.
Sasuke opened the door, and the first thing he looked for was her still form on the bed. She wasn't asleep. He could tell that much by her quickening heart beat, and her held breath. "Quit the act. I know you're not sleeping."
Scowling at the wall, Akira started to breathe again. Fine. So he was a good enough shinobi to notice. Good for him. She didn't roll around. Her back remained presented to him.
The footsteps came into the room, followed by the door shutting quietly. "I take it your escape attempt was unsuccessful."
Akira tried to mute her astonishment, but she couldn't help thinking, 'How did he know? Did Kimimaro rat on me?'
"How did I know?"
She caught a tinge of amusement in his voice, which she found infuriatingly annoying.
"You're wearing your coat, and it's eight-four degrees in here. I can't imagine any other reason why you would have it on."
Finally, Akira turned around and sat up. "You're very annoying," she snapped. "I'm trying to sleep."
"You were trying to fake sleep," Sasuke corrected. He sat onto the couch at the opposite side of the room. His position was lax, an arm draped across the top of the couch with his katana leaning against it. An ankle rested against his knee. But his gaze was intense, the red of his sharingan cutting through the darkness, which was only slightly alleviated by the candle on the desk.
"What do you want from me?" For an insane moment, Akira thought Sasuke wanted a chef for his platoon of shinobis. Cooking was all she had a talent for, after all. She was a genin, and tried to pass the chunin exams four times to no avail. Surely he didn't see her as a source of manpower, did he?
Sasuke had hoped this moment would come later. He wanted to put off seeing her reaction as long as possible, but since she was asking….
"I need you to be the mother of my heir."
The dreaded silence lingered in the air, filling every corner of the room. He thought the silence couldn't be anymore awkward, anymore stifling. Forget simply being able to see the incredulity in her eyes, he could feel it radiating from every pore in her body.
"… Sorry?"
"I need you to provide me an heir."
She rose to her feet. "You're insane!"
"It would appear that way…," Sasuke admitted slowly, "Since you won't acknowledge that you're an Uchiha. But that comes as no surprise, since you lived in Mizugakure with your father all your life. He probably didn't tell you anything about your Uchiha heritage." He rose to his feet as well, leaving his katana on the couch as he approached her. "You're mother was from the Uchiha clan. Uchiha Fumiko, my second cousin."
"You can just pick another woman," Akira said shortly. "I won't do it."
Sasuke walked towards her, but stopped when Akira began to take steps away from him. His raised a finger to point at his eyes. "Do you see these? They are called sharingan eyes. It is a kekkei genkai, inheritable only through genes. I'm sure you had it activated already, so I'm sure you know you have it too. Believe me when I say I would rather choose the woman I bed. Unfortunately, the sharingan is maternally inherited. Uchiha women are the sole carriers of the gene, so that means, even if I do have the sharingan, I cannot produce children who have the kekkei genkai; I know, because I've tried."
"I refuse."
His gaze was cold. Akira could feel the atmosphere grow ominous. "I'm not giving you a choice. If you had a choice, you wouldn't be stuck here."
"I don't care about the Uchiha clan. I'm not part of it!"
"But as long as I care, you will be kept here until you comply."
Eyes downcast, Akira stared at Sasuke's feet. She couldn't stand looking into those eyes. They were pitiless, domineering, and unforgiving.
Sasuke took her silence as a promising sign. He held up a finger. "I just need you to provide one, healthy child. And then you'll be free to go."
She shook her head, but this time hesitantly. In the back of her mind, Akira knew she had no choice. Either she gave Sasuke what she wanted, or she would be kept prisoner until she learned obedience. Besides a few friends, Akira valued her freedom the most. Virginity was definitely a small price to pay.
"Do we have an agreement?"
"No, definitely not. I'll never do it." If she were a talented shinobi like her father, if she had enough stealth to break out of here, undetected, that's what she would have said. Her only talent lied in cooking, but her prowess in the culinary arts was absolutely useless in this situation. "I'll make you some kick-ass takoyaki if you let me go," she imagined herself saying. A giggle bubbled at the base of her throat and threatened to come out. Akira quickly squashed it. Did he even like takoyaki? She remained silent.
"I'm asking you politely," Sasuke said, his patience wearing thin. "I don't have to be so kind."
Sure, she could run her kitchen knife through a carrot in a second and have perfect, wafer-thin slices, but it was a different story when it came to wielding a kunai knife. Every time a kunai knife or a shuriken left her hand, she would have to pray that it found its mark, unlike the other shinobi, who hit their targets with pinpoint precision every time.
"Alright…," she said quietly. Her agreement made her sorrowful, and her compliance, nauseous.
Mechanically, without any trace of emotions in his eyes, Sasuke removed his cloak, followed by his shirt before he tossed his belt onto the couch.
"Now?" she said incredulously.
He indicated to the bed. "Lie down," he said tonelessly.
Akira sat instead, seeking chances to disobey at every turn. It was petty, but oddly satisfying, although the degree of hinderance she imposed was like a rigged up sheet of rice paper against a charging rhino.
'What is it like to him anyway?'Akira thought as he lifted her legs up and swung them onto the bed. 'Did he find any intimacy? Was it just like another mission? An obligation to his clan?' Her eyes met his briefly. She averted her gaze.
"Lie back."
When she mulishly remained sitting up, Sasuke gently, but firmly, pushed her shoulder back until she was forced to lie down.
"Can you deactivate your sharingan?" she asked when he began removing her clothes.
His fingers, worrying over the tie on her dress, stopped. Curiosity lit his eyes for a brief second before he wordlessly did as asked.
Stubbornly, Akira clenched her legs together when he reached her undergarments.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "I thought we had an agreement."
Through gritted teeth, Akira reluctantly admitted, "We do…." Her legs relaxed.
Crouching over her, Sasuke bent his head towards hers, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, "Are you a virgin?"
No matter how much she hated him right now, no matter how hard she tried to imagine him as a deformed monster to maintain her abhorrence, Akira couldn't stop the pleasant tingle shooting through her body when she felt his breath against her ear. The gentleness in his voice belied his cold eyes. Somehow, Akira thought Sasuke would be a tender, kind lover to the woman he actually loved. If there was such a woman.
"Why the hell would that matter?" she asked bitterly as she saw her underwear dropped beside the bed.
His lips were so close to her ear that when he talked, it felt like a kiss. "I'd like to know how gentle I have to be with you."
Akira placed her hand against her cheek and turned his head to face hers. She met his eyes with a serious, almost stern gaze. "I am. I don't care how many other women you sleep with, but with me, you'll always have to be gentle. Got that?"
A slow smile spread on Sasuke's face, followed by a small, amused, "Heh…." Lowering his head again, Sasuke brushed his lips against hers. Akira turned away, the movement of her head an involuntary jerk. "Agreed."
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They laid in bed, panting, their hair in disarray, splayed across the pillows. Sasuke had rolled off a few seconds ago, and now he laid on his front, his flushed cheek rested against the warm pillow, an arm thrown across Akira's chest.
She couldn't say it didn't feel good. Sasuke certainly knew his way around a woman's body. Pushing his arm off, Akira sat up, sweeping the hair back from her face.
"You act like you didn't enjoy it," he said, almost smugly.
"I didn't."
"Your moaning dictated otherwise."
"Shut up!" she snapped. Akira moved a few inches away from him and flopped back down. She was tired. The pleasure was beginning to fade, leaving the encroaching fatigue.
There was silence for a while. Akira's breathing was still heavy, but Sasuke's had settled back into it's normal rhythm. She sat up again. For a while, Akira stared at the single, still flame hovering above the candlestick. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her arms were clasped around them.
"Make me some tea," Sasuke said softly.
Akira got up, not because she wanted to make him tea, but because she wanted to get away from him.
As she dressed herself, Sasuke's eyes lingered on her body, his appraising gaze tracing the graceful curves of her hips, the sensual dips of her waist, and the taut muscles that ran down the length of her slender legs.
"Oolong tea," Sasuke specified softly, when really, he wanted green tea. Those were the only two types they had in stock, and he knew she was going to try to spite him by making the exact opposite of what he wanted.
Akira made her way to the kitchen, flattening and combing her hair with her fingers as she went. Thankfully, there was no one in the kitchen. It was late at night, anyway. It would have been strange if there was someone in the kitchen, unless Taka had midnight snackers.
Standing in front of the stove, Akira watched the steam rising from the kettle with vacant, distant eyes. When she heard the water boiling, she snapped herself form her reverie and began to search for tea leaves. In the cabinets, Akira found green tea and oolong. With a slight, but vindictive smile, Akira scooped in two spoonfuls of green tea leaves after she had removed the kettle from the stove.
She was about to go back to Sasuke's room when she decided that she needed to sit down first. So Akira took a cup for herself. Once the tea had steeped, Akira filled the cup to the brim and took a sip. For the next minute, her hand remained laced around the cup. The steam did nothing for her eyes. Tears, which had been waiting to fall since she had walked out of the room, finally spilled onto her hands. Her body trembled. No matter how gentle Sasuke had been with her, there was still an uncomfortable, bruised feeling between her legs. She let out a sob, a violent, choking sigh that harbored all her anguish and frustration. If only she were stronger… she wouldn't be in this situation. If only she had had the strength to fight her way out of the clutches of the Takas who attacked her when she was about to travel back to Mizugakure. If only… —
"Hullo…," a voice behind her said.
Hastily, Akira wiped her tears away and turned around. "Oh…. Hi, Kimimaro-san…." She turned away quickly before he could see the wetness in her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled.
Kimimaro pretended he didn't see her tears. "I like a midnight snack now and then," he said quietly. "I don't usually encounter people in the kitchen at night. What are you doing here?"
"Making tea," she answered, turning away slightly as Kimimaro brought a jar of cookies to the table and sat down in front of her.
He sighed a little as he watched her trying to turn away without being obvious about it, watched as she fought tears. "You can cry if you want. I won't judge. I won't ask. It's not my business."
Akira sniffed a little, but she staunchly fought the tears as she turned back to him. Her eyes rested on the cookie jar, and she couldn't help but notice the seals layering the cover of the jar. She laughed through her tears. "What the hell?" she exclaimed, pointing at the seals. "The Takas are a little paranoid, huh? I don't think any thieves would come into this hideout to steal cookies."
Kimimaro released the seals with a softly spoken, "Kai." They fell apart, floating to the table. He opened the jar. "This is a precaution against Hidan. He likes to steal my cookies. I keep telling him to stop. He feigns innocence, but I know it's him."
"So… the seal works?"
"Yes, it responds only to my chakra. Although, I think I may have to change containers soon. Dimwitted as he is, Hidan would think to break the jar instead of trying to outmaneuver the seals."
"You're crazy," Akira declared, chuckling.
He smiled a little. "They're good cookies."
He thought she still looked pretty when she was crying, but he preferred it when she smiled. And plus, it made him feel good when he made her laugh.
"Would you like some tea with your cookies?"
"Yes, please. Would you like some cookies with your tea?"
"Don't mind if I do."
"So what are you doing here anyway?" Akira asked after Kimimaro offered her the jar. "You seem too nice to be working for Sasuke."
"I'm in debt to Sasuke-sama. Even though Kabuto revived me, it was Sasuke-sama who thought to bring me back."
She took a big bite of the cookie. It was good. "Why did he revive you, anyway?"
"As a favor to Juugo, but more like he wanted another asset to his team."
Akira looked at him over the rim of her cup as she drank. She set the cup down. Clay and wood made a light thunk against each other. "You're a talented shinobi, then?"
"I guess?" he said, though it sounded more like a question than a confirmation. "I don't know what your definition of talented is."
"Your ability with your bones… really freaked me out," Akira said.
"I'm not surprised."
"I don't mean that as an insult."
"I know."
Silence hovered over them for a moment, but it wasn't an uncomfortable or unsettling quiet. It felt more like they were taking the time to enjoy each other's company.
Reluctantly, Akira said, "I should get back. He's waiting for his tea."
Kimimaro nodded once.
"Thank you for the tea."
"Thank you for the cookies."
Akira beamed another smile at him, to which Kimimaro reciprocated with a light smile of his own.
She left.
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A/N: Hehe… second chapter :D
Seriously, what do you guys think? I'm getting so few responses it makes me think I should discontinue the story.