For some reason I find Konan to be more veering toward a tsundere character. What the hell. Originally this started with being a he-will-bang-her-the-end fic, but a wild plot has appeared! And I've decided to take that course.
Lovely set of reviewers I have, you're all just so lovely I could glomp you, welcoming me back and loving this and everything. :D
Wouldn't hurt to try playing Goodbye Goodbye or Misery while reading. I've written this to those and a few others.
10apr2012: Edited typos.
Scorpio: Blood Saga of the Dead War
Part IV: Surviving Guilty Pleasure
"As I taste your lips, both right and wrong."
The slap resounded solidly across the bare room.
Itachi's cheek stung as heat suffused from where Konan's hand came in contact with his cheek and radiated outwards across his face. Rubbing the stinging skin gingerly, he looked back to confront the culprit who appeared as much in shock about what happened as he felt, light blue eyes wide with surprise, lower pink lip caught between her teeth.
He could feel with his fingertips where the welt was starting to form, the strength of a kunoichi's hand far different from that of an ordinary village girl, and he couldn't help but be amused by the fact that he had seriously not seen that one coming. Still, he was somewhat in a mild state of shock.
"What—"
"Don't," Konan quickly cut him off, smooth, bare shoulders slightly shaking.
She was livid. Or at least emotional enough that her white skin was blotched with red across her nose, down her neck and spreading beneath her delicate collarbones. She was trying to keep a straight face but it was now failing her, orange light flickering and playing with shadows around the room.
"Just... don't," she repeated, closing those gray blue eyes, shaking her head.
He blinked.
Konan sighed, opening her translucent gaze to fix them on him, a mask pulling up that wiped all emotion out of her face with the brisk professionalism she always wore during meetings, clearing her throat loudly.
"Your hand was cold," she told him dismissively. "Please don't do that again."
Quiet stillness with cracks of rolling thunder filled in the background. Seemed to him that she was lying through her teeth just so she would have a reason to give him for the slap. If anyone was cold between the two of them, it was her.
It now appeared to him that she was taking things the wrong way and, as his partner will now be able to laugh his ass off with Deidara downstairs, a great misunderstanding came to settle between him and his leader's prissy female partner. It touched upon his thoughts that had she only been a man, there would be no complications such as the one he was buried in for the moment and he'd just chuck some healing plants Konan's way and be done with it. Easy as pie.
This part of dealing with her, this dainty lady stuff, felt somewhat like a tinge of his old life, the mighty bother of niceties and formality when dealing with other socially stuck up people. This part wasn't amusing.
But she was a girl, after all. And even with status and strength and understanding, there were just some things that he would always have to deal with when it came to them. It made it all the more interesting when he contrasted his relationship with Konan to the way he dealt with the rest of Akatsuki, Pain and Madara included.
The likes of Hidan and Kisame were free to grunt and act line boneheads in his presence, actually bothering to physically interfere with him whenever possible, ranging from nudging him awake to grabbing him by the ponytail, the latter of which only happened once and the results effectively discouraging anyone from managing to try it again. For her though...
Had he been a lesser person, he would have rolled his eyes.
The Uchiha could contemplate the complexities of how women and men had different thought processes during any other time than this. He knew he could hold his emotions well, but with his fatigued body just about giving up, sapped of strength and numbed by lack of sleep, he wanted to push the dillying and dallying out of the way and just get on with whatever he needed to do. The fact that she was thinking that he might have, for lack of a better term, perverted her, that itself sat with him very unpleasantly.
"Listen," he said softly, not bothering to conceal the unimpressed disdain in his tone. "We're both tired. If you want to wait until Zetsu is able to abduct a nurse of your preference, then by all means, just tell me."
ooo000ooo
There was a stiffness to his body language and darkness in his voice telling Konan she had ticked him off, detecting at least some annoyance in the way he spoke to her. Konan had never seen him smile with those beguiling lips, and he was indicating right now that she wouldn't be able to see that in any near future. Seriously, boy? Are you mocking me when I am supposed to be the one angry here? That is just so rich, you bastard.
Of course, none of those words ever passed between her teeth. She smiled acerbically at him.
"Why would I need a nurse?" she asked pointedly.
He gave her a strange look that she read as: Are you an idiot?
Her heart still hadn't slowed down much since she pushed him away earlier, and the way he was watching her with those sharp eyes wasn't exactly helping. The appeal of his ingrained brooding calm managed to easily thwart any sense of her temper and reduce her to feeling like she was throwing an unnecessary childish tantrum. It irked her to no end.
No. She was not a spoiled kid, he was. She would not be left feeling like she was the one who erred when it was quite so obvious he was overstepping her boundaries. She had originally held him to this ideal of possibly being the only gentleman who had been inducted in the organization.
Now, he was proving that like all men, he was still lured by that carnal pleasure that made him too touchy feely for her liking. Disgusting.
He was no different from the morons who didn't take her seriously enough. Her plight as the only female member was indeed a delicate one yet she still had to put her foot down at some point. Itachi sliding his hand across her leg definitely was way past the line.
No matter how those mysterious, sinister eyes were now burning her very soul, no matter how how menacing his aura in the dimness of their surroundings, how he seemed to create this image of stoic airs, how he makes everyone feel so inferior, how he seems so goddamn untouchable. She was never going to fall for that.
I can just cut your pretty face up, you sad, pathetic, little baby. And stop looking at me with those emotionally depressive eyes. You can go commit suicide for all I care.
She couldn't help the animosity in her mind effectively painting him in a bad light. He can look all pretty all he liked, but it wasn't going to change a thing about how she felt about him. He was too good looking for his own good.
He moved slowly, fluidly, even in his low energy state, and gestured toward the bedside table. She followed his hand.
Then tried to control a swallow.
Plants were littered on the desk beside the lamp. Bandages and cotton, some oils that shone and sparkled in the low light, a few ceramic bottles with no label to indicate the contents. She could remember subconsciously taking note of these when she had just woken up but it had been carelessly swept away in the rush of the events. They surrounded what looked like a healing salve in a clay grinder, something the Uchiha apparently was making before he handed her that drink moments ago.
Oh.
Her runaway ego deflated like a balloon. The previous ten rational neurons that had told her he was going to play medic rejoiced with a cheer at the back of her mind, the rest scolding her about the bad habit of judging people too much too soon, the feeling of shame gnawing at her insides.
Unfortunately, it only watered her dislike of him, making it grow and start budding, the insolent boy proving her wrong on so many counts. Damn him. Her light eyes fixed themselves back to meet his black gaze, covering up her bruised ego by trying to casually brush back the mess of cobalt hair from her face.
She vaguely noticed his tiredness more easily this time, along with that distinguishable unsmiling trait of his cupid-bow lips, and inwardly sneered. The appeal that he exuded was extremely magnetic, she had to grudgingly admit at least that to herself, irritatedly guilty that she wanted to keep staring at him, his dark features, those long, heavy lashes that would put any girl to shame, those lips, those lips when he spoke, the grace and how he held himself when he moved, how she might just lose herself in the deepness of his voice.
She was torn between bitter scorn and grudging admiration.
"If you don't mind," he asked quietly against the background of the pattering of drops on the tile roof, "I'll begin."
Konan's tongue felt like cotton and hoped it wasn't obvious she didn't want to talk, holding her head up proudly and pretending she wasn't affected. It was a bit arresting to have someone like him be subservient to her. He was obliged to as her subordinate, in a way, but him being physically doing it was such a difference from just being someone she interacted with through orders on occasional holograms and rarer face to face meetings.
He reminded her of the lords and ladies whom she witnessed back when she was younger, all highbrow on their carriages and the lavish life they led. She could easily imagine him growing up in a similar environment, giving orders and taking wealth in, genteel and unable to function without help. Being able to serve was something she wouldn't describe him with.
The wind howled through the cracks and tepidly entered the warm room, rifling lightly with his raven hair and raising goosebumps on her skin. The silence was pregnant between them, heightening her senses. It dawned on her too late that he had been asking her permission with his previous words as his eyes lingered on her like black, unwavering fire.
She nodded uneasily.
She'd heard somewhere it wasn't good practice to look Uchihas in the eyes, what with them being savants with illusions, not to mention in being pricks as well. Such a funny thing that the legend others were be afraid of is what she had come to regard as a common sight. An easily alluring sight.
Konan, watch it, she berated, slightly alarmed at where her mind was taking her.
The longer that she watched those dark gray irises flecked with the orange light, the more she was convinced that she could almost glimpse the scarlet bloodline limit hiding behind his impassive gaze. But by then she could already feel her defenses against sleep weakening, and she closed her own eyes to rest them as they had grown heavy and torpid.
His words lulled her even more as she picked up on that slightly annoyed albeit dulcet tone once more. "If you slap me again, you're going to have to wait until tomorrow to get this done."
They fluttered open halfway to witness him slowly reaching out his hand for her leg, hesitantly this time, keeping his heavy stare on her, watching her reaction and monitoring every breath she made, observing her as she observed him. She didn't say a word of protest as he inched closer, and she tried to push sleepy thoughts out of her head, her fight against confusion now turning into a fight against sleep. It wouldn't do to be conking out in his presence, much less doing it twice in a single night.
For a second time, his fingers brushed against the side of her leg and there was a sudden fizzle of electricity from the contact of his skin against hers, an unexplainable feeling that she didn't know was possible, wanting to both lean into the touch and pull away at the same time, struggling against the compelling impulse to close her already-tired eyes to it, tracking how his long, slender fingers curled around under the bend of her knee and gently pulling her closer towards him.
She could feel the blush returning to her face and wrenched away from the irresistible pull of his gaze to stare at their shadows on the dark side of the room.
You are nothing. You are but a boy who knows nothing of the world and you will never understand what I...
Her leg came to rest easily on his lap and she secretly basked in the heat radiating off his body, thoughts trailing away like evaporating mist. For someone who played so cold and so unapologetically stand offish, Itachi felt human. More human than even herself. Like a god locked in some mortal form. Like the Nagato she previously knew.
No, she hissed at herself. Nagato was more than this mere fledgling.
Missing beats, Konan realized she began discerning things unfolding like time had slowed down to a near standstill, as if everything was warped in a dreamlike state. It felt powerfully alluring to watch the Uchiha taking the pillow beside her, then leaning ever so close (and smelling like mead and slight sweat and musk and pure extraordinary...), leaning over with his chin grazing the side of her neck that set her nerves ablaze, a strong arm softly tracing across behind her shoulders and pulling her even nearer as he fixed the bolster against the headrest for her to lean on.
The material of his shirt felt rough as it moved when he did, the cloth dragging across her inner thighs, his hot breath flirting on her neck, tickling her behind her ear, and the dark strands of his hair trailing from his shoulders to slip down and brush over her hands and throat. He lazily pulled away from her, catching her ice colored gaze anew.
The intensity of their physical proximity made her eminently aware he wasn't doing this to bother her, musing as she paced her breathing. She mused that there was just a certain quality that made every move, every touch, every caress, seem to have some esoteric purpose behind them that seemed to linger. The way he spoke with his velvet intonations, the way he can effortlessly look blasphemous, the way he saw the world through those cursed eyes.
She didn't want to feel this way. She was too old for this. She wasn't supposed to be like this but here she was, practically lounging in his arms like some giddy little girl who had a crush on him. She was... Wait. No. That wasn't right. She wasn't...
"Is there still something wrong?" he asked, breaking through her musings.
Konan's comprehension kicked in through the exhaustion, enough for her to say the least damaging thing she could think of at the moment.
"Itachi-san, has anyone told you you're a jerk?" she muttered against his cheek.
ooo000ooo
Itachi carefully tucked away the end of the bandage to secure it into place, finishing off her right elbow as his eyes trailed back to the serene look her her face. She was sleeping peacefully in a halo of her blue hair and he felt he wasn't too far behind. The empty space beside her was more enticing to his wearied body than he wanted.
She had called him a jerk earlier and he ignored it, remaining silent and choosing so because he didn't know to respond.
He took a deep breath, looking at the his work across her body, white gauze wrapped around her joints, on ankles and knees, and now he just needed to finish her arms then he could rest. His eyes wandered to his last uncompleted job that had been on his lap as he worked earlier. Her wrist. He took it into his hands, palms sliding down her lower arm from where they were working on her elbow to finally come to encircle it in his calloused palms, shifting to a more comfortable position where he sat on the bed.
Her pale skin felt smooth and soft, telling him of being well taken care of in her adult years as she and her companions grew in power to be able to skip the part of close quarter combat and hand to hand fighting.
He flicked a thumb lightly over the injured wrist, skin peeling and raw pink, Konan not even flinching in the deepness of her sleep. Taking a little of the salve, he applied it, liberally covering and massaging it gently into the ragged mess. It wasn't too bad, seeing that she wasn't dying from it nor was it serious, but he knew it had to be annoying.
After those last words from her, he simply carried on like he heard nothing. There wasn't much to say so they instead shared a very peculiarly mutual, then-comfortable silence. She had merely watched him after that, those hauntingly hooded eyes, ice gray irises dilated in the dim light, cheeks rouged red from whether fever or she found the room too heated, he couldn't determine at the time, full lips that occasionally hissed when his fingertips pressed into her too hard.
Although he managed to conceal it, he was definitely bothered, seeing the pinpricks of sweat glittering on her brow. He could just imagine Kisame and Deidara having the time of their life had they the privilege of witnessing them earlier.
The way her eyes turned feral and narrowed at him, how she writhed under his touch, lips pressing together, the simple act of slowly turning her face away from him as those girlish hands tightened around the maroon towel, eyebrows furrowed, legs sliding together, against each other, exposing flushed neck and skin to his view. Needless to say, he had moved out from between her legs the earliest chance he got.
He wasn't too keen on meeting her smoldering gaze, and avoided looking at her directly at any cost. He hadn't been with a woman for some time now and Konan's actions were bordering on agonizing.
"She's pretty fuckable if you haven't noticed."
The bomber's words echoed in his head as he absentmindedly stroked her knuckles, her hand soft in his. He was free to watch her now without those eyes following his every move.
I have other more important things to do than this. He kept repeating that phrase to himself.
Itachi sighed, pulling his gaze away from those peacefully closed eyes, the extremely youthful face that looked closer to his age than that of his mother, and reached out for a roll of gauze, methodically wrapping her wrist snugly in the cotton fabric, concentrating on any welcome distraction.
He didn't know how Pain would react were he to find out about this, either to his partner being bedridden, or him encroaching on what could be considered as his territory. Frankly, he could simply ask Madara to keep the ire of their Leader from spilling onto him, but he considered that practically a low blow to both ego and standing in the organization. He'd rather not go that far, but he would certainly need the help of the Uchiha founder if Konan called foul, if only just to avoid any bad blood in Akatsuki.
The purple paint on her nails was chipped, he noticed as he started binding her wrist, but it didn't take away from the appeal of her small hands, slender yet not bony, and smooth like the rest of her. Like the rest of her. His uncanny observation noted that even though the thick, deep red towel was still in place, the edge had pulled away from where he secured it when he hastily wrapped her in it earlier, the border now tauntingly lying untucked near her underarm.
The Uchiha closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair, his fingers tightening around her hand, exhaling audibly at the images that started filtering through his overtaxed mind. This was bad. He had to finish up and get out of there.
She suddenly made a soft noise at his grip, the last straw rendering him exasperated that he immediately released her hand. He stared at her, making sure she wasn't waking up.
Standing up, he swiftly pulled the blanket from underneath her and draped it across her body, making sure to tuck it beneath her chin to conceal everything but her face from him. Her blue lashes were a deep purple in the flickering orange light, clear, soft skin pale like the sallow environment of Hidden Rain, the piercing on her lower lip winking silver light as she breathed deeply.
He didn't want to linger. He didn't have to.
She reminded him of his first. It was strange because no one else did. He had the occasional girls who he would be visiting regularly for periods of time, had others of different ages, hair colors, eyes, features, personalities, but no one even came close to reminding him of the first time he ever was with a woman. The apprehension of what went on in her head, her thoughts, his anxiety at what would happen, the mystery of the unknown. How it basically felt to not know.
A crash of thunder boomed just outside the house and his heart fluttered. The smell of rain filled his senses once more as his mind delved back into the past, flashes of pressing his face into midnight curls and tears in scarlet eyes making him tense and his fingernails dig into his palms.
He never expected that feeling to be resurrected. It reminded him of a forgotten yearning for an unholy indulgence that felt both right but just so wrong all at once.
He wondered how she could incite that same emotion. There was remotely nothing similar between Konan and her. Physically, they were as different as they come. Personality wise, if he included what he witnessed in the last thirty minutes, Konan could drown her out in a heartbeat. Strength... that wasn't even a comparison.
Age.
It flitted through his thoughts.
He brushed the ghost away, returning to the present.
Dwelling on his humanity was something he had to stop. He made a pact all those years ago to bring the Uchiha massacre secret to the grave, and keeping his feelings in check had to be a constant, everyday process for him.
Satisfied that Konan was modestly hidden from his view, he reached down, forcing his overriding emotions back into place and almost imperceptibly sliding his arm underneath her neck without waking her up, lifting her carefully to pull out the extra pillow from behind, then gradually lowering her back down when his pulse traitorously broke free from his control and began racing, drumming.
Letting go of the bolster, his hand pressed deep into the mattress for support and holding his breath, he stared at her visage, sensing the rise and fall of the comforter as she breathed, taking in her serene appearance with head still resting pleasantly on his arm, her body finally warming after being out of the deranged weather. He toyed with the thought of how it would be feel her beneath him, to rest his weight over her, to experience pressing against those lips, to taste something forbidden...
It was really time for him to leave.
Before he could move away, Konan's eyes suddenly were trained upon him, lids fluttering half open to reveal the crystal clear, gray blue eyes moderately brightened by a slight fever, unwaveringly fixed on him.
He froze.
She moved, faster than he expected, a soft hand (smooth like the rest of her...) coming up to rest lightly on his cheek. He wasn't sure if it was because his hair had fallen to surround them, casting them both in deceiving shadows that he didn't know if it was a small smile that formed on those full, pink lips. Or if the smile reached and mellowed those eyes so that in the small, dark haven between his arms, she appeared completely different than her brisk, dismissively uncaring exterior he was used to.
The light of the lamp penetrated through thin slivers across her face as she blinked slowly, her thumb passing lightly over his lips that he felt anxiety begin twisting in the pit of his stomach, aware how he was positioned over her, unable to look away from that pretty mouth. His eyesight was really betraying him, because he was quite sure she was smiling at him now. Beckoning, inviting, enticing him. He mused how Pain would definitely be out for his blood.
That pretty mouth moved, turning into a slightly fuller smile, then spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Her touch caressed the mistreated cheek she had slapped earlier, then as quickly as she had reached out to hold him, her hand slipped back under the covers, those eyes closing to hide their haunting gaze, releasing the pressure he felt under their scrutiny, and she turned her back on him to face the side and fall back to the clutches of slumber.
He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding for that long, staring incredulously at the blue hair in front of him, jaw clenching, taking a few moments to compose himself.
He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose, if she seriously knew what she was doing just moments ago, whether she intentionally made those noises while he wrapped bandages or she had completely no idea it could have resulted in someone raping her had she been no kunoichi and him a lesser man.
He pushed himself off the bed (off her...) and stood by the side table, silenty watching the subtle movement of her shoulders, likely already getting lost in dreams. Judging by her reaction upon waking up, the reason he got slapped in the first place, he wouldn't say she knew.
His hands felt slightly sticky from handling the herbs, and he breathed deeply, dark eyes narrowing at her silhouette. From the door of the room, a voice interrupted his thoughts, breaking the moment.
"Sleeping like a baby, yeah?"
Itachi turned to look at the owner, meeting Deidara's mocking stance as the blond leaned on the edge of the rice paper door, grinning with his suggestive madness, hands pocketed. The trademark Akatsuki cloak was gone and he was wearing the basic fishnet shirt and black pants as him.
He didn't know how long he had been standing there, and how much he had seen to be able to warp and misinterpret as he babbled it to his partner, all to make fun at his expense. He felt like pushing the blond through the fragile entrance but instead gave him a shrug.
"It's nothing," he said, throwing a final glance at Konan before turning to switch off the lamp and walking out, brushing past the other member of the organization as he stepped into the hallway, feeling like a big intake of fresh air after being stuck in the room with their leader's partner for the last hour.
ooo000ooo
"Hah!"
Itachi continued down the hallway and Deidara continued to smirk, watching the sleeping figure in the darkness of the room.
Kisame had offered to prepare a late dinner in the kitchen and he took the opportunity to bound off to see what had been happening upstairs. Damn, of course he knew it would be interesting to know hail almighty dear madam Konan's situation, as it seemed a lot of unusual occurrences were happening too frequently lately. This was fun. It was like something was at the beginning stages of a brilliant explosion. How he would love to be part of making that grow into a full blown catastrophe, to help bring it to its fullest potential.
"Close it when you're done ogling," he heard him add and he turned to see the back of the retreating Uchiha as he ambled down the hall.
He flitted after him, but not before stealing a last glimpse before and sliding the door closed, then running to catch up, audible footsteps on the hardwood floor following his host.
"The room feels odd. Like, you know, chakra, Itachi-san," he commented as they traversed the sparsely lit hallway, peeking to see catch a glimpse of his companion's face. "Like someone used chakra very, very recently."
The moment he stepped up the landing, he had managed to catch Itachi just about straightening up from Konan on the bed with a very strange look on his face as he watched her there. Very strange, in fact, that he managed to not even notice his shiny gold hair winking like a torch as he cleared his throat and walked right to the doorway. Now, he was as good as anyone at trying to surprise somebody, but Itachi was one of the people who he never could sneak up on. The stupid look on that face meant something was going on, and he wanted in on it.
"It's mine," the Uchiha replied, meeting his inquisitive blue eyes that were full of mocking humor.
He watched curiously at Itachi's smirk, feeling a sense of cheap, guilty pleasure emanating from the normally stoic man. The fact that he was emanating pleasure at all was some new level of abomination to Deidara, as it seemed like he had this diamond rod growing out of his ass every time.
Well, this time was different, wasn't it now?
"I planted the genjutsu."
Deidara broke into a grin, feeling the slow motion explosion finally beginning to bloom as it caught wind and began scattering its dazzling shine as far as its fuel could. So the bastard had finally decided to joined their plan. Unusual things indeed are happening. Oh, this would be really so much fun.
AN: Egad, sorry it's so long. T.T I couldn't possible find any other good break in the storyline. puppetierin's Bitchdara just had to make a last minute entrance.
Itachi's first, if you haven't guessed, is... :D I'm not telling. I'm writing a oneshot for that because it's a runaway plot bunny, to be finished by next chapter, so when I upload chapter 5 the link will be there. Take a free guess tho and find out who it is Scorpio: Damage Control is done. XD
Comments and reviews, always welcome. And any typos or possible errors you spot.