The Way of the Sword
A Naruto fanfiction, By Serenanna
Lesson 10 – Toeing the Line
Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is adult content, and sexual situations in this story involving sharp, pointy objects. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!
Story Notes: This is a Kakashi/Sakura fic, while other pairings may come and go. This story is a continuation of Ronsmyhero's Respect and Understanding. Reading that fic is a good idea in order to understand this one as there will be references from it. It was with her knowledge and stamp of approval . . . but I've since lost contact with her (Ronsmyhero, if you're reading this, e-mail me!). Mulling my options, I am going to continue as planned.
In case she ever makes her own sequel, this is an AU take. I know a fanfic of a fanfic probably isn't a good idea, but I'm giving it a whirl. Ronsmyhero, this is in honor of you.
All warnings and such still apply! Refer to other chapters for full notes.
Sasaki giggled then burst out in silly laughter, covering her mouth so that the sound wasn't too loud in the already noisy bar. Takeo chuckled, wincing in embarrassment as he leaned over the counter. "I can't believe they did that to you!" the purple-haired woman blurted out, looking slightly mortified and apologetic at the same time, "I'm sorry. If I knew that they would have dressed you up like this, I would have put a stop to it . . . if I could."
"Don't apologize. It isn't the big of a deal," the ninja said with a quick glance up at her before his sight fell right back down to his cup of sake, "From what I've seen tonight of Sakura-chan, nothing short of an army could stop her once she's set her mind on something."
He, of course, had no idea how right his assessment of their sometimes stubborn and willful teammate was. Sasaki snorted in laughter, grinning widely as she shook her head, "I should confess. I didn't turn down her help in getting you here tonight when she volunteered it. But even if I did, I'm sure she still would have dragged you out anyway."
"It doesn't matter, I'm here now," Takeo said, finding once again that he was staring at her from his spot on the corner of the bar. He quickly looked away before she could notice, fidgeting on the stool. For the life of him, he didn't want to keep looking at her, and yet, somehow his eyes continued to drift up towards her face. It felt like he was stealing glances, and he probably was, but for some odd reason he couldn't help it. If Sasaki noticed, she didn't let on, smiling slightly while resting her cheek on her hand, "Well, at least it explains why you look so dressed up tonight."
Takeo coughed, hiding the chuckles that he couldn't suppress completely, "Dressed up or trussed up like a lamb to the slaughter?"
She giggled, "It isn't that bad . . . especially the pants."
As soon as the comment passed her lip, a crimson flush spread so swiftly over Sasaki's face that she looked like she'd been dipped in red. His mouth dropped open in shock then closed again, mulling over her seemingly accidental admission as his eyebrows arched. She like his pants . . . which could be taken in quite a few ways. "I really didn't mean it like that. I mean, they're nice, different, but nice. It's not something you see often, and I always liked different. I don't know why, it's just me maybe. It probably helps that you have good legs too-," she rambled on before catching herself, gasping loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth, ". . . shit."
A wide grin spread across Takeo's face before he slowly nodded, "It's ok, Saki-chan. I already know I have good legs."
She groaned in mortification, "It's just the sake talking, I swear. You're nice, but really, it means absolutely nothing. We're just friends."
And yet, the kunoichi was still blushing. He chuckled, reaching across move the half empty cup away from her, "Then, as your friend, I'm thinking you've had enough. I think we've both had enough of you embarrassing yourself."
"I do not do it all the time! At least not on purpose . . ." Sasaki admitted, a slight tinge of pink still coloring her cheeks, "No one's perfect I guess."
"Least of all the two of us."
"I'd drink to that, if you hadn't taken my drink."
"It was for your own good," Takeo scolded, nodding emphatically, "It wouldn't be proper if I let you drink me under the table."
Sasaki started to giggle then burst out in laughter again. They really needed to stop doing this. Since the sake had started to flow, so had the teasing and jokes till she felt almost weak from laughing so much. And yet, she couldn't deny enjoying watching the way his sapphire eyes kept darting around her or how he grinned. The sight of the single dimple on one corner of his mouth was too adorable to miss, lop-sided compared to the rest of his pretty features. Takeo must have caught her staring as he blinked, looking quizzically into her eyes when the laughter stopped. She looked away, shifting on her stool and tucking a wayward purple lock behind her ear, "So, what are you working on now?"
He blinked at her question, looking even more confused, "Excuse me?"
"The notebook, from the other day, I assumed you were writing something?"
The ninja's eyes widened slightly, sitting up on his stool a little straighter, "Oh that . . ." he waved a dismissive hand and relaxed, "You don't want to hear about that."
"Yes, I do."
"No, you don't. It's nothing."
"Yes, it is something, and I want to know. You asked about my sketching, and now you know I paint too thanks to my favorite pair of paint-splattered jeans, so it's only fair that you tell me about your secret hobby."
"It isn't a secret," Takeo asserted, his eyes narrowing slightly, "And it isn't much of a hobby."
"Then why won't you tell me about it?" Sasaki asked, not letting the topic drop no matter how much he shifted in his seat to avoid her gaze. His fingers played with cup, accidentally slipping into the sake before cursing to himself. Why was she so persistent? It wasn't that important, really . . . was it? Slumping slightly, he shrugged, "It's nothing, really. I've decided to shelve that particular one anyway."
From the raise of her eyebrows, he knew the admission had only raised her curiosity. He groaned, "Ok, I write stories as a hobby, but I've begun to hate the one I'm currently trying to finish. It . . . it isn't ending up the way I'd hoped, so I think I'll start a new one."
Her face spread into a smile, leaning towards him in interest, "Will you tell me what this new one is about?"
For a moment, Takeo seemed to be considering her request, thoughtfully scratching the hair behind his ear until he stopped to look at her. There was something playfully mischievous in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of Sasaki's neck rise up in warning. He wanted something that much was obvious from the way it grinned. It made her sit up straighter under his scrutiny, waiting for what he had to say with a knot of nervousness tightening in her chest. "If I show you mine, will you show me yours?" he asked quietly.
He had to be teasing her again from the way the words seductively rolled off of his tongue. The mere sound made her toes curl. It also made her want to believe certain things that were very much against her better judgment. The blush across her cheeks slowly crept over her face and down her neck. She had to stop thinking about sex, especially about sex and the shinobi across from her. It was perhaps the fifth time that night that the thought had popped into her already troubled mind, teasing her with ideas about what she didn't want and knew she couldn't have. Really, she wanted nothing more than to be his friend, but . . . she'd be damned if the thought of unlacing those leather pants of his didn't affect her.
Ok, maybe she had been staring at him with each flash of leg. And maybe her eyes couldn't stay off his ass when he left briefly for the men's room. But then again, every woman there that night seemed to look at the dark-haired ninja when he passed. It meant nothing to her, personally really. She could explain it all away as just a natural reaction to a man that looked much too good in leather . . . and half-naked. A mild curse ran through her head, along with more denials. He was just her friend. Sasaki took in a sharp breath, relieving some of the flush of her cheeks as he chuckled, seemingly oblivious to her thoughts.
He meant her paintings after all, nothing more than that.
"I really can't show you. I never really show the canvases to anyone," she said once she had control of her voice, "It's just something I do anyway, outside of our work."
Takeo nodded, appearing to sober up to seriousness, "That's one thing we have in common then. I don't like talking about my work either, but for different reasons I think."
"Why's that?"
He avoided looking at her, glancing down at the wooden bar instead, "Because I keep changing the plot. Whenever I start writing something new, I always think the story will go one way, but by the end, it never turns out the way I would have hoped."
Sasaki's eyebrows scrunched together quizzically at his comment. It sounded like there was a deeper meaning to what he said, like some secret reference only he was privileged to. Whatever it was, she was confident that he wouldn't tell her, at least not tonight. Like the list of things they had decided not to ask one another, some things were better left unasked and unanswered. "I'm not a writer, but maybe you just shouldn't try so hard to make the ending you want?" she offered, ducking her head a little to meet his eyes.
When his sapphire pair locked on hers, Takeo slowly smiled. Her heart clenched in her chest if only for a moment. It was there again on the corner of his mouth, the lop-sided dimple, and the one imperfection on an otherwise perfect man, the one feature of his that was quickly becoming his most endearing trait to her at least. Sasaki's dark eyes darted down again before he could accuse her of staring; eyeing the drink of sake he had pushed away instead. While she had the grace to look away, she could still feel his eyes on her, a burning presence tingling at the base of her neck as if he was looking for something under her skin. No, he wasn't interested in her, he couldn't possibly be flirting with her, and he certainly wasn't about to start trying to get into her panties. Nope, nope, and nope. But then again, with enough sake, she wasn't so sure that she could keep herself from really flirting back.
Takeo pushed the cup of sake back in front of her, "Maybe one more drink for the both of us, before we call it a night."
She took the small porcelain vessel almost reluctantly, glancing between the clear alcohol and his eyes. He raised the cup across from him as well after refilling it, holding it in the air. Sasaki did the same, knowing a toast was coming next. "To friends," he said with a nod, "Because friends seem to know when you need a drink."
The purple-haired woman laughed softly before joining him, her eyes still following him from over the edge of her cup. If Sasaki was sure of one thing that night, it was that being friends with the gorgeous, dark-haired ANBU operative with the geeky home life was turning out to be the most fun she had in ages.
Sakura bit her lip, keeping her eyes off of the other shinobi around them and focused solely on the cup of sake in front of her. It was all she could do to keep her composure from falling to itty bitty pieces. It was also all she could do from killing the man whose lap she sat on, well, from figuratively killing him anyway.
Damn Kakashi and his perverse sense of the erotic. One year ago, her old self would have died of shame at the mere suggestion of near public exposure, let alone gone through with his desires. And yet, that was all of one year ago, when she would have called anyone crazy for suggesting that the Copy nin, in all his tardiness, hardass-ness, aloof, smarmy, and perverse tastes in literature, was the type of man for her. Now, it was as logical and necessary as breathing.
She bit the inside of her cheek, and sucked in a breath before shuddering it out again. The hand on Sakura's thigh moved a little higher and a little closer to her center. She quivered, aching to finally be touched.
Damn him.
It had started innocently enough about an hour after the topic for discussion at that week's gathering turned from Takeo to the latest antics of Kurenai's genin team. The conversation had swung again back to Anko's man problems, and Sakura's selective hearing began to block it out. She didn't need to know what the trench coat-wearing kunoichi wanted to do to Iruka-sensei in such graphic detail, yet again. What had started as an exciting evening was turning out to be rather boring and a-typical of the group of jounins.
That was until she felt Kakashi's hand on her hip. Sakura stiffened, and tried to ignore the touch. His fingers were light on the silk anyway, as if he hadn't meant to touch her at all. And yet, that thought was shattered when he moved the hand to touch the black frogs clasped over her left hip, slipping underneath the material with the pop of one button.
His face nuzzled the back of her neck, slowly rolling down the mask, and she knew what he had planned.
It was no surprise when he abruptly pushed their chair in. Last thing either of them wanted was to get caught. All Raidou had to do was look over at them, just once, and the entire bar would know that the Copy nin had his hand under the cherry blossom's green and gold dress. Yet, it felt like he was doing so much more to her than just the simple fact of having his hand on her burning skin. The more he touched, the more she unconsciously moved, and the more she moved, the more sensitive she became to everything she pressed against. The hard creases of his pants seemed magnified even if she'd been sitting on them for some time now. Even the lump she had noticed earlier seemed to feel more noticeable, but then again, she also had an idea of what exactly that was.
The reminder brought her thoughts back to the hand trying to reach up her dress, and why she wanted to kill him in the first place. Damn him. Couldn't he at least give her a reason why they were risking their already nearly-scandalous, yet still honorable, reputations with something even more worthy of scandal? "Why are you doing this?" she asked in a whisper, turning her head slightly.
Kakashi's nose stayed buried in her short hair, breathing in the scent, "Because . . ."
That wasn't much of an answer. Her inner self kept contesting that an answer didn't matter anyway so long as his hand finally touched her and that she didn't decide to scream, but still, answer would have been nice. Damnit, if they were going to get caught being this reckless in public and around friends, she deserved an answer, "Kakashi . . ."
His lips brushed the fine hairs under the back of her neck, moving aside the high collar. Sakura bit her lip, blood pounding in her ears so strongly that she almost didn't hear him, "Because all I could think about during Tenten's wedding party was you in this dress, how much I wanted to take you home to take it off of you."
"But you did get the dress off of me when we got home . . ."
"But now I want to know what it's like with the dress still on."
The kunoichi's heart flip-flopped with a near skipped beat while her cheeks turned crimson. Now was an answer worth being reckless over.
Sakura couldn't help shifting her hips again, the moan in her throat dying in a whimper that was nearly inaudible while her eyes never left the grain of the table. Kakashi's breath was loud in her ear, hitching each time she unintentionally moved. Her legs were coaxed open as much as possible in the narrow skirt of the dress, straining the material. He pulled the silk out of the way to slide his hand back and forth along the inside of her thighs, and she gripped the edge of the table.
He was so close, and yet so achingly far away at the same time. She wanted to be touched, badly, nearly shivering in need the longer he took. They could have been caught at any moment. All it took was one person to notice, someone to look at them too long, or some question to break her concentration on being absolutely still, and they'd be caught. His fingers inched closer with all the sureness and cool control only he possessed. Couldn't his hands ever shake in need, once? Her spine nearly shook as it was from being held perfectly poised. He had to know that since she was practically pressed against his chest, didn't he?
She wanted to scream when his fingers finally tangled in the fine, pink curls over her folds, but she blinked slowly instead. It felt more potent for such a barely there caress than it should have, making her nerves jolt to attention. Teasingly light on her wet skin, she slowly breathed normally again under his touch. She was a kunoichi. She had been in worst high-pressure situations in the past. With the supreme confidence in the world, Sakura was sure she could handle being felt up like that without the whole bar knowing.
And yet, when Kakashi slipped the tip of a finger over her clit, that confidence melted away as quickly as shaved ice fallen on a sidewalk in the middle of the summer sun, and she was the dripping puddle that remained.
The entire bar seemed to stop momentarily except for the two of them and the torrent that sparked through the kunoichi's raw nerves, or at least it felt like it had.
Somehow, she managed to keep it all inside . . . except for a squeak.
"Are you ok?" Kurenai asked at the sound, an eyebrow arched quizzically.
Sakura's eyes hesitantly looked up from the sake to the woman, wondering if she could tell. She should have been able to tell, right? Her breath was nowhere near normal, and her eyes surely must have been glazed over. Couldn't she see the buckets of sweat rolling down her extra-wide forehead? Was she blind? Were all of them blind? Her mouth opened to answer, but nothing came out at first, not until Kakashi finally stopped moving his damned hand. Yet, her heart sunk at the loss, swallowed down with the lump in her throat. Gah, why did he have to stop? And just when it felt so deliciously good too! She could have handled it, couldn't she? That was a question Sakura didn't want to chance. Possibly, the Copy nin felt the same way. "I'm fine. Just a hiccup," the pink-haired woman muttered quickly, forcing a smile on her face.
The ruby-eyed woman looked at her skeptically a moment, then nodded and turned towards Asuma, ignoring them once again.
She barely had time to exhale when she felt Kakashi's fingers delve into her folds, sliding with ease towards her center. Sakura's breath caught sharply, her hips rolling unconsciously into the touch. He bit lightly at the back of her neck, making her squirm more as he chuckled sinisterly, low and dark, "You're soaking wet. You must be enjoying being on my lap a little too much. Very naughty of you."
Damn him.
Her hands shook from both anger and his design, forcing her to put them under the table out of sight. If she was wet, it was all his doing. He knew exactly what he did to her, like always. Anger burned in the depths of her green eyes as much as desire. He could not be completely unaffected, not with where she sat on him. Sakura stiffened as another finger pressed into her and moved with a coaxing motion. His gloved palm rubbed over the rest of her delicate flesh and clit, adding to the intensity. Her mouth opened of its own accord and for a terrifying moment, she thought that the moan threatening to come out of her throat would resound throughout the whole bar. Yet, the only sound that came from her voice was a whimper. Did anyone hear her? Wincing and shuddering at the same time, she looked up alarmed around the table.
They were all oblivious, still.
Kakashi didn't stop at the noise, moving his fingers in and out as if he had all the time in the world to torment her at his whim. She tried not to stay still, but couldn't help it, shifting around in slow time with his hand. Sakura almost didn't realize what she was doing until the ninja grabbed her hips, pressing her down hard onto his. Her cheeks flared in heat, feeling a definite hard bulge in his pants digging into her rear. His breath panted in her ear, gulping for air, "Do you feel what you do to me, Sakura?"
Of course she could, vividly. Her eyes fell to the sake on the table as a wicked grin spread across her face, "You started it."
The back of his thumb twisted to press into her clit in retaliation only to feel her hips grind back into his as well. This time it was Kakashi that make the noise, a low murmur in the back of his throat stuck between growling and groaning. No, it was definitely a groan he made however low it was.
She stopped her squirming immediately, and looked up to see Anko's eyebrows raised towards them. Sakura's inner self screamed in her head then promptly fainted dead away, her spirit gone. Shit, shit, shit, shit. They were caught, weren't they, and by the last person in creation she wanted to be caught by. The snake-lady grinned slightly, mildly amused in her inebriation, "You ok, Pinkie? Kind of flushed, aren't you?"
Shit. Inner Sakura popped up enough to scream again then fainted once more.
Damned shit.
Kakashi's hand refused to stop and certainly didn't pull back. In fact, she could almost feel his grin on the back of her neck.
Double damned shit.
As eyes started to turn towards them, she did the only thing she could think of. Her hand reached for a decanter of sake to supposedly fill the Copy nin's barely-touched cup. Not looking at what she was doing, she missed, knocking the alcohol over instead with the inside of her wrist.
And as luck would have it, the decanter happened to fall perfectly end over end onto her lap, spilling all over her dress.
Sakura let out a terrible loud screech that instantly had the whole table's attention on them. Kakashi cursed softly in her ear, wrenching his hand out of her dress and his mask back up as he bit off harshly in her ear, "You did that on purpose."
She didn't answer him, moving quickly instead to pick up the fallen container and a few napkins from the pile on the table to blot the mess. The wet paper also conveniently covered the open buttons when she slid off of his lap to stand up, "That was certainly graceful of me. Damnit, and I like this dress too!"
"You ok, Pinkie?" Anko asked again, her dark eyes widening in surprise from across the table.
"No, I'm not ok. I now smell like a bar," she complained dramatically before turning towards the bathrooms in the back, "I'm going to get cleaned up."
"Wait, let me come help-," Kurenai started to rise from her chair to follow her, but stopped when Sakura abruptly stalked off without another word. In spite of all the glances in his direction and the sudden end to his very daring seduction of the pink-haired woman, Kakashi continue to sit in his chair as if nothing had happened, barely noticing the sake that had gotten on his pants as well. At least that was how it looked to everyone else. On the inside, the Copy nin was torn in multiple directions, between unbelievable frustration for being left behind, utter agony not finishing, anger at her for ruining the experience rather abruptly, and lust for still wanting her. He barely noticed anything until Raidou handed him a few napkin, "Are you ok? You got it all over you too."
Of course he wasn't fine, he was still as hard as a rock and left with the bill for once while his cherry blossom retreated to the bathroom, alone, in a stall or by the sink, cleaning her ruined dress, while not wearing any underwear. His fingers twitched involuntarily.
She wasn't wearing any underwear.
He needed to find Sakura.
He took the napkins and started to wipe up the table and his pants, quickly, reacting as if it wasn't highly unusual for a highly-trained medic nin to lose control of her hands. "Must have been all the drinks," Kakashi muttered as he got up from the table, and threw down some money on the table, "You know how little she can hold her liquor. I should probably take her home when she's done. I'll just duck out now and find her. That should be enough to cover us, good night."
The ninja had barely heard the replies of his friends when he started to make hand seals and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
It took about one minute after the small fog had cleared that anyone at the table dared to say anything. And, of course, it was left up to the senbon-sucker to break the silence, "Anyone else find that entirely too weird?"
"Weird how?" Gai asked, leaning heavily on the table with his chin on his hand.
"That Sakura, with some of the most skilled fingers in all of Konoha, would accidentally topple over a nearly full decanter of sake?"
"She really can't hold her sake, Genma. Alcohol rarely makes one's coordination better, unless you're Rock Lee, my brilliant student."
"Or that she was blushing pinker than her hair a few minutes ago?" Anko pointed out, smirking.
"She does blush that shade occasionally, especially around Kakashi," Kurenai added.
"But isn't it weird that those two hadn't said anything for the past couple of minutes before the accident except for a few noises?" Raidou asked, leaning back in his chair.
"They are both kind of quiet when left alone . . ." Asuma shrugged, "Lost in their own little worlds and in each other I suppose."
Genma reached over to the money Kakashi had deposited on the table, counting the bills. When he finished, he sunk back into his seat with a pondering look on his face, "Or that one-eye would be in such a hurry that he would leave enough money for once?"
The same pondering look fell across the faces of the friends that remained seated. Now that was something to think about.
"I've been meaning to ask you some," Takeo said suddenly. Sasaki glanced over at him in the darkness, wondering what he could possibly want to ask her.
Their last drink together had turned out to be just that, the last one of the night. She'd barely noticed how late it had gotten till a glance at her watch told her that it was well past midnight already. As soon as she'd announced her intention to leave, Takeo placed enough money on the counter to cover both of their drinks. She hadn't allowed him at first, but he insisted so much that it was quicker to cave than argue. When she went to leave through the canvas panels covering the doorway, the ninja held way clear for her as she stepped into the street, and followed right behind. When she eventually asked what he was doing about one block later, he said that he was walking her home.
The last time anyone ever walked her home, that she could recall, was Hayate on her twenty-fourth birthday when she had gotten so sloshed that he had to really carry her home. Then again, he also lived with her too. No one since ever walked her home from the bar because she never did get overly-drunk again, and that night was no exception. Takeo really did have proper manners after all she supposed.
The night was beautiful for Konohagakure weather. Hardly a cloud graced the sky to blot out the stars, and the moon hung low in a waning crescent. It was such a perfect evening that the main street through the village still had their lanterns lit late into the night while many businesses remained open. Their path was awash in the golden light until they turned down one of the side streets away from the Jounin Building and towards Sasaki's home. The further they got into the residential sections, the sleepier the village became till they were walking only by the dim starlight.
Takeo had been quiet the past few minutes after a pleasant conversation on the restaurants they had passed, which made his sudden statement so sudden. For some reason, the dark-haired man looked down with more interest at his sandals than he did at her. He didn't launch into his question either, as if he was too nervous of what he'd been curious about to even ask it. Sasaki slowly grinned, holding her hands neatly tucked behind her back as they walked, "I've wanted to ask you a few things too, but I don't know if you'll answer them or not."
He snorted in laughter, the sound more harsh than light-hearted, and nodded in agreement, "That's kind of true . . ."
Taking an energetic leap forward, the kunoichi moved in front of him then twirled around, walking backwards, "Alright then. You can ask me one question, anything you want, and I'll answer, no matter what it is."
His eyes widened in surprise at her, the sapphire depths looking bigger than she remembered in the darkness. Takeo's interest was obviously peaked or else he wouldn't have looked at her so intently. Sasaki laughed softly, holding her head a little higher, "It's fine if you don't believe me at my word. I won't blame you."
"It's not that."
"Then you don't trust me?" she asked, eyebrows arched at him as her head tilted slightly.
He waved at her defensively, arms flailing straight out in front of him. "No! No! I do trust you! Really! It's just that . . ." Takeo's voice trailed off as he nervously scratched his hair, looking down again, "It doesn't exactly seem fair of you to offer that when you know I can't do the same."
"And why not?"
The elusive ninja's eyes widened again, but not for the same reason as before. She could see it again, that fear that she'd seen earlier when her arms had been around him. The sight of it gripped her chest in pain, give her reason to be afraid as well. What was he hiding? It couldn't be that bad could it? For a moment, all the rumors she'd heard from Ino filtered through her head. As much as she wanted to block them out, forget they'd even existed and live in blissful denial, they still remained like so-called giant gorillas looming in the room of her mind. What if they were true? What if they weren't? What if it was something else that was even worse? As much as she wanted to know his secrets, she didn't want to know that badly, not at the cost of a newfound friendship. In spite of the fearful look on Takeo's face, she smiled brightly, "I meant what I said. It's a one time offer. Ask me anything you like, and I'll answer. You don't have to answer anything in return."
The fear drained from his face, and he smiled in return. Stepping sideways, he walked beside her again, making Sasaki turn so that she could keep an eye on him from over her shoulder. "Alright, alright . . ." he trailed off, obviously working up the courage from the way he wrung his hand, "When we met, that day in the room when Kakashi was giving out his rule, I always wondered . . . I wondered to myself how you both kept on surviving after the siege. I knew you both lost a teammate in the battle, even if he died a hero, and that both the Captain and his Sakura almost died together. Well, the whole village heard that, but that's beside the point. The point is, I wondered how you both could keep going, surviving after so much had happened to your team. When I met Sakura again tonight, I realized that she is what keeps him alive and strong, but . . . you're still an enigma to me, I guess. What I'm trying to ask is why, after what happened, are you still able to be a ninja?"
The happy look on the purple-haired woman's face fell. So, after all that, that was what he wanted to know. No wonder he didn't want to ask. It was the type of question that wasn't easy to answer, and no, she didn't really want to answer it either. For nearly a minute after Takeo asked, Sasaki walked on in silence with her eyes on her feet, the question bouncing around her mind. Why did she keep moving on with life? After Hayate's funeral alongside the Hokage's, she had asked the same question to herself. Hell, to be perfectly honest, every funeral she had ever attended made her think about that particular question. If she wasn't a shinobi, if her duty wasn't to the protection of her village, how different would her life have been? And what if the same had been true to Hayate? Would he still be alive and sleeping beside her?
But that was all just wishful daydreaming. The past still remained the past after all.
The only thing that remained for her to hold onto was Konoha and her memories, as always. Sasaki's arms dropped from her back to stay at her sides, walking slower as her dark eyes drifted back to Takeo's before self-consciously looking away again, "I move on because I am a shinobi. I am a shinobi to protect what I hold dear, and what I care about most is this place and all the people in it. Until that is gone, I'll continue my way until it is my time to leave this world as well. That's what it means to be a shinobi of the Leaf to me, at least . . ."
When she glanced over again, his mouth has dropped open in awe, and then, ever so slowly, it went away, turned into deep contemplation. "I never thought of it like that . . ." he admitted, almost whispering.
She barely heard the words, but it made her curious what he meant, "It isn't much different from what others aspire to be. Protecting what you love the most is a natural instinct, I feel. It's my way, but . . . sometimes I wonder . . ."
"Wonder what?" he asked, his feet scuffling on the dirt-packed path. This time, it was Sasaki's turn for a look of fear to pass over her eyes however briefly. She shouldn't have said that. Even if the drinks had loosened her tongue, it hadn't lowered the guard on all of her inner most thoughts, especially in regards to her own past. "It's nothing," she said, and quickly, waving him off, "I'm just wondering out loud if I'm really that good at what I do. That's all."
Takeo chuckled, grinning broadly as she led the way around the corner and down another block. She looked puzzled, almost offended when his laughter only got stronger, "What?"
"I just never pictured you having self-esteem issues," he said between chuckles. Irritation flared into anger as she abruptly moved to shove at his shoulder. He only laughed louder while catching her wrist easily. Sasaki yanked her arm back, and chopped lower towards his stomach. No surprise, he blocked the blow while still chuckling, but what he hadn't expected was the side sweep of her foot. Takeo barely to jump back in time, followed by ducking at a sudden round kick aimed for his head. "Geez, if I'd known you were that much in denial, I wouldn't have said anything!" he joked, getting another punch thrown from the kunoichi.
He leapt back, avoiding the blow, but he couldn't avoid the hedge he had stepped into in the process. Flailing, the ninja fell backwards with a yelp, landing on his rump among the bushes and dirt.
He groaned and suddenly Sasaki was the one laughing. Takeo looked so miserable that she couldn't help it, broken twigs stuck out of his hair while dirt ruined the once immaculate blackness of his clothes. The sight was just too much. The woman nearly doubled-over, holding her stomach from the force of the laughter wracking her body. He struggled to get up, scowling at her until the look was wiped from his face when he slipped and fell back again. "This isn't that funny, Sasaki," he groused, laying there as the volume of her laughter went back up again, "Help?"
She staggered over while still giggling, reaching for his hand, "I'm so sorry. I just can't help it. You should see your hair!"
Takeo grasped her wrist, using the leverage to spring out of the bushes and back to his feet. Grumbling, he brushed the dirt from his pants and shirt before pulling at the debris in his hair. Finished, the ninja shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to walk off until he heard her follow. Slowing his pace, he kept his head down as he gripped, "This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn't tried to hit me, I wouldn't have had to duck or ended up in a hedge."
"You said I had issues, and even found it funny! I do not have issues!" Sasaki yelled in his face, stamping a foot. No matter how angry she looked, he still chuckled. Slowly, she calmed down enough to look at him wearily instead before her dark eyes fell, "Well . . . at least not self esteem issues."
She didn't look over to see the slight smile on Takeo's face at her admission. Whatever her issues, he was sure they couldn't top his, but that wasn't why he smiled. What she had said still amazed him. Sasaki, even if she didn't think so, was truly a better shinobi than he was and probably a stronger person as well. It was admirable; wanting to protect what was important, more admirable than the way he chose his path as a ninja. The smile on his face went downwards into a frown, "We all have our own issues. I think it comes with the occupation."
Sasaki snorted a chuckle, "Yeah, probably . . . Can I ask you something?"
He didn't say a word for a long while, his eyes on the ground till he finally said just one word, "Anything."
"Anything?" she asked back, not quite believing what Takeo has said, "Are you sure? Anything can cover a lot of things. I thought you didn't like answering questions, especially potentially loaded one. Really? Anything?"
Taking a long breath, he slow nodded, "Yeah, why not? You let me ask anything I wanted and answered, so I guess you deserve as much in return. And you obviously want to know something, so . . . ask away!"
The kunoichi blinked, confused at the sunny smile on his face. Either he was forcing the cheerfulness for her sake, or he genuinely meant it. Somehow, she was skeptical of the latter being the real case. Sasaki looked at him thoughtfully a moment then nodded emphatically, "Alright, I have my question then."
"What is it?" he asked, trepidation setting in the tone of his voice. Maybe this was a bad idea. She could have asked him anything, and he practically promised to answer her with the truth. Ok, so maybe he hadn't said that much, but it felt like he had. What could she possibly want to know about? The rumors? The jutsu? His past? A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, rolling down the side of his face. Could he really answer anything she asked? He wasn't so sure he could . . .
"Do you . . ."
"Yes?" he prompted when Sasaki trailed off, nervousness making his question sound like a squeak instead of real words.
"Do you like tempura?"
All the tension he felt drained away from the ninja's over-worked mind. Anything she could possibly ask, and she asked about tempura? Takeo glanced at the purple-haired swordswoman as if she'd just said the craziest thing he'd ever heard, his features awash in incredulousness, and she just laughed. He blinked, still gawking at her. This was a joke, right? "That's what you want to know? If I like tempura?" his eyebrows knitted together, "What kind of question is that?"
Sasaki still laughed, grinning broadly, "The type you have to answer. You said you'd answer anything, so answer already!"
Slowly, he grinned again, looking at the path ahead of them as he mulled a reply. Tempura, really? Well, if she wanted to know . . . "Yeah, I do like tempura. There's still one shop I go to everyday for dinner when I'm in town. They make the best tempura udon, much better than ramen any day of the week," Takeo said, stretching as he went on more excitedly, "Honestly, how can people eat it all the time? I heard this one shinobi goes to Ichiraku at least twice a day for lunch and dinner, and eats at least five bowls at a crack! Can you believe it? Obviously he's never had proper tempura."
She couldn't help fighting down the giggles as she held a hand over her mouth. Luckily, he hadn't heard her sad attempts to sound like she was actually interested in tempura. No, what was much more interesting was how animated the man went on about his favorite food. It became too much to handle as her laughter only grew. He must have heard it as his rambling slowly died the louder she became. "You think it's funny, don't you?" the ninja asked, sounding downright miserable.
Sasaki shook her head vigorous, purple hair flying across her face, "No, tempura isn't that funny, but . . ."
"But what?"
"Just the way you talk about it . . ." she trailed off, "I suppose it would be cuter if you were twelve again."
Sasaki laughed again, and he couldn't but cringe, a nervous laugh wrung from his voice. She thought his blabbering was cute, childish, but cute nonetheless. The thought made Takeo blush dramatically in the dark night, scratching his hair while still chuckling. He couldn't possibly have come off more idiotic if he tried. And yet, the kunoichi didn't seem to mind, smiling radiantly even as she laughed softly. He could get used to hearing her voice full of mirth like that, brittle, harsh, tender, and rich all rolled up into one sound. The laugh seemed to fit the woman it came from, holding as much of her pain as it did her spirit. She still softly snorted in near giggles, but he didn't mind listening to it. He probably should have wished for her laugh to be lighter, for her to be happier, but he couldn't. No, Sasaki was wonderful just the way she was.
The suddenness of that thought made Takeo's chuckles stop completely.
He never did stop to wonder in the course of the night how wonderful she indeed was, but he certainly noticed now. And, it made him trip over an unseen stone with the next step he took, barely catching himself from falling on his face. Sasaki automatically reached out for his hand, making sure he was steady, "You ok?"
Takeo tried not to look at her like he'd been stricken, but he couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open slightly. There was something in those big, dark eyes of hers that made him suddenly nervous every time he looked at her. It kept down his spine to his toes and out of his voice, wavering after swallowing the lump in his throat, "Yeah . . . fine."
And yet, her hand still held his wrist, "Uh, Sasaki? You can let go now."
She laughed suddenly in a barely there snort that belayed her own nervousness, her hand springing open, "Oh, right . . ."
The kunoichi turned away, starting to walk towards one of the nearby buildings. It was one of the better apartment complexes in Konoha, the type where he knew the residents outright owned their quarters rather than rented. How curious it was that she lived in such a place. Somehow, he never pictured her being the upper-crust type, not like those with clan associations. Sasaki moved quickly up the set of stone steps as if she wanted to be away from him, but then she stopped by the door and slowly turned around. Her eyes didn't leave him, and Takeo suddenly figured out that she was waiting for him. His feet followed on their own, picking up the pace till he was suddenly standing at the bottom of the steps. He nearly stubbed a toe on the stone with how quickly he stopped, looking up at her instead of where he should have been going.
Sasaki grinned slightly, idly pushing her sandaled foot back and foot on the doorstep, "Thank you, for the drinks, the evening . . . and for seeing me home."
Takeo bowed, never breaking from her eyes, "My pleasure."
Her grin wavered, slowly turning down, "Do you really mean that?"
He blinked, confused, "Why wouldn't I?"
The woman fidgeted on the step, sliding a hand into her pants pocket and pulling out a key. She kept her back to him as she fiddled with the lock, "It's ok. I know you really didn't want to come tonight, so you don't have to act like you it was your choice. I mean, Sakura must have been very forceful if she not only got you out but got you to dress like that as well. This must have been a long and uncomfortable night for you, and I'm sure you'd rather be home right now. Why is this lock so hard tonight? It shouldn't even be using the front door when I normally-."
Sasaki's rambling stopped abruptly when she turned around again, running right into Takeo's chest. When in the world did he get up the steps, let alone this close without her noticing? Maybe the man was more skilled of a ninja than she thought. Maybe he was a lot more things than she thought. The words she was going to say stuck to the back of her throat, unable to come out or to be swallowed away. Her heart stuck there as well; beating faster the more intently he looked at her, smiling slightly. He was paler than she thought, and his eyes more vibrant. She could almost swear there was silver floating in the blue of those sapphire depths, or else the starlight played tricks on her perception. Pakkun was right on his scent though. She could smell it too now that he was this close, sandalwood and spice with a hint of smoke. It filled her nose as he leaned in closer, his bare arms reaching around her.
The purple-haired shinobi pressed her back to the door, unsure if she wanted to get away from him or get even closer. Apparently, he wanted the latter himself as she felt his forearm brush past her hip. Sasaki jumped, the silencing lump in her throat finally swallowed down, "I, um, I normally just use my window. I should probably just-."
The key clicked in the lock, and the door behind her opened. "I think I got it," Takeo said, a lop-sided grin on his face.
She looked down at the door knob, and found that his hand was on there and that it was open, "Oh, um . . . thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, still leaning over her, "I guess this is good night then."
"Um, I suppose it is . . ." Sasaki muttered, sounded rather deflated now that it was really the end of the night. Even the excited yet nervous edge that tingled in the pit of her stomach felt let down, but she didn't know by what. She certainly didn't want anything to happen, not tonight, but that was just her better judgment talking perhaps. No matter what her head thought, the rest of her senses almost didn't want him to leave. Takeo took a step back down. So, he was leaving after all. Sasaki quickly pushed the door open and stepped inside before her feet stopped, and she suddenly found herself turning around again to look at him standing there on her steps.
Damnit, why did she not want him to leave? The night was over and done with, he'd walked her home, and said good night, but why didn't it feel like enough? What did she want with him? Friendship? Company? Something to ease her loneliness and pain? Something more? Sasaki didn't know, and the very thought that something more could be brewing frightened her. All she had to do to get rid of him was say good night. How hard could that be? Once he was gone, she could figure it all out, come to some conclusion about him to make herself believe that she didn't really like him, and just be his friend. Why him of all people anyway? Not only did she still barely know him after one night, but he was a mess, a beautiful mess, but a mess nonetheless. There had to be more normal men out there that she could be attracted too, ones without a lop-sided dimple, book fetishes, or mysterious secrets. But then again, she did have a thing for messy men too . . .
Sasaki stood there by the door, deep in an internal struggle, when she heard Takeo ask, "What is it?"
She looked up at him, as if finally noticing that he was there with those wonderful sapphire eyes and the lop-sided dimple, and decided that she really did want him to stay, "Do you . . . want to come in?"
His eye widened, a mix of shock with a dash of fear, and then slid downwards, "I really shouldn't . . ."
Damn. He was saying no. He didn't think of her that way at all.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even asked. I don't know what possessed me, um, good night," Sasaki mumbled quickly, about to close the door in his face and beat a hasty retreat. Hiding in her bed with the covers pulled over her head was sounding good if there weren't any rocks around to crawl under. Shit, she shouldn't have tried to even ask him. What was she thinking? Maybe the ground could have just taken her up whole now that she was close to dying of embarrassment at his feet. And yet, before she could be left alone in her misery, he reached for her hand.
All of the kunoichi's thoughts ground to a complete halt as the hand he took went slack along with her jaw.
Takeo lifted her arm and bent over at the same time, stopping when his full lips brushed the back of her palm. Sasaki nearly jumped out of her skin, as if she'd just been struck with electricity. Every hair on her arm stood on end by the time he pulled away only to kiss the inside of her wrist. Suddenly, she felt like dying for completely different reasons. He could probably feel her pulse racing through her veins at that pressure point, but he didn't seem to care, and for the moment, neither did she. Even if the whole entire apartment building fell around them, she would have continued to stand there as still as a statue so long as she still felt his kiss on her skin.
When the dark-haired man pulled away and let go of her hand, Sasaki finally breathed, inhaling sharply while her arm fell down limp. He must have liked the effect he had on her, grinning impishly as if he was thoroughly pleased with himself. And yet, that quickly changed to a heart-warming smile, one that stole her breath away again, "Good night, Saki-chan."
"Good night, Takeo-kun," she barely whispered, rooted to the spot just inside the door.
She really did want him to stay.
Yet, Takeo turned away sharply, walked down the stone steps, and ventured back into the night. Sasaki watched his dark back as he never turned once to glance back at her again, even as he disappeared around the corner. He hadn't run from her unlike the other day, but walked away deliberately, not like he wanted to get away from her but like he needed to put some distance between them. Not that she blamed him, of course. Distance was good with how she felt at the moment.
The kunoichi stood there a long while with her eyes still glued on where he had left from view, replaying the whole evening in her head. He was still a mystery to her, but . . . now he seems more like a real person. Oh, he was far from perfect before, but he was also just that before, far from perfect. She didn't know anything else about him. And Takeo had always been distant, more so than Kakashi ever was. He never said or did anything of meaning to her, no matter how often she stared at him. But now, that distance felt as if it had been to a hair's width of space. If she ever found herself staring at the man for minutes on end like before, she'd never be able to live it down now. Even remembering the feeling of his lips on her skin could turn her back to the perfect shade of ripe tomatoes. But, as a secretly-kept and guarded smile crossed her lips, whatever changes in their friendship, teamwork, relationship in general, it had been worth it.
Slipping into the women's restroom of the bar was harder than it looked, especially when Kakashi not only had to come in through a small ventilation window, but also avoid any other shinobi women passing through. It didn't help that he could feel the sake in his system slowing his reaction time ever so slightly. No one else would have known the difference except for himself and maybe Gai. Luck seemed to be on the Copy nin's side though as he dropped down into the room after hearing water stop and the door close one last time. Or, maybe it wasn't entirely on his side. After looking through the place and all the stalls, he found that it was completely empty, "Well . . . damn."
Where the hell could Sakura have gone?
Wherever she was though, she certainly was not in the rest room anymore. Before he got caught being in there, the shinobi silently snuck out of the door, making sure no one saw him. He glanced at the table he'd left not even a minute ago, and didn't see the pink-haired woman there. And as he took the time to look over the rest of the bar, he realized she wasn't there either. Maybe she headed home ahead of him? If she did, it sort of ruined his plans. For all he knew, he'd blown his chances completely with the stunt he had pulled under the cover of table. She hadn't stopped him, but that little contradiction didn't stop her from being angry with him like always. And knowing Sakura, she would let her anger be felt upon him.
Grumbling to himself, Kakashi turned away and wandered towards the men's room. If he wasn't going to get any tonight, like he assumed, he could at least fix the problem tightening his pants.
Just as he passed by some of the back storeroom on his way, the ninja didn't notice one of them open till the sound of squeaky hinges, and someone passed behind him. Sneaking up on the Copy nin was never a good idea, not when he was sexually frustrated and a little intoxicated. Who could possibly be so stupid, especially when he could hear their sandals on the wooden floor? The only clever thing they'd done so far was mask their chakra. He had no idea who it was, only that he had let them come up right behind him. Gah, he was slipping, but that wasn't going to happen anymore tonight.
Slowly, his hand dropped to the kunai holster on his thigh, slipping the handle of weapon into his palm. Cloth rustled, getting closer to his ear, and he knew they were going for his neck. The ninja whirled as he felt a hand grab the back collar of his vest. Poised to slash downwards, Kakashi stopped abruptly at the flash of strawberry pink and the press of a body against his. It was a woman, definitely a woman from the curves he felt. Her hand caught his wrist, and he could see the pale pink polish that could only belong to one woman.
Sakura.
"You scared me half to-!" he started to yell at her until she yanked his mask and covered his mouth with hers. The force of her lips was near bruising, devouring him right there in the middle of the hallway, and he answered it back while wrapping his arms over her figure. In the sensation of her kiss, it was easy to forget about the past few minutes and remember exactly where they had left off. The kunai pressed into the silk over her back as he forgot that he still held it, making her gasp and jump while her lips pulled away, "Kakashi."
"You left me there," he growled, nipping at her jaw line and neck.
"We were going to get caught," Sakura tried to argue until he pivoted and pushed her back towards a wall. Her shoulders bumped against the wood paneling and his hips ground into hers, cutting off further argument. "We're going to get caught here too unless we're very quick or find someplace else," he breathed between kisses.
Apparently he was voting for being quick as he didn't let up, tugging at the drenched fabric clinging to her thighs. She squeaked, trying to push his hand away, "We can't! We'll never be allowed back in here!"
"The men's room."
That was not a question from his tone of voice.
"Kakashi!" she hissed, both appalled and frustrated until an idea struck her. The Copy nin stopped at the determined fire in Sakura's green eyes, almost frozen. The look she gave him could be nothing good. What exactly was she planning now? Before he could ask, her hand snaked between their bodies and grabbed him by the mask hanging loosely around his neck. Using it as a leash, she slid along the wall towards the still open door she had hidden in earlier, pulling him with her, "You're coming with me."
"That's my line."
"Tonight it isn't."
Not that he would argue with her over that fact, but people stealing his favorite sayings was becoming increasingly annoying. That annoyance was forgotten as soon as they slipped through the door and into the darkness. Where exactly had she taken him? The answer to his question came after she released her hold on his neck and slammed the door shut. The light was dim in the room, but the stacks of crates, shelves of sake bottles, and assorted barrels he could see left little to the imagination when his sight adjusted. Then again, anything remotely private was good enough as he pulled Sakura back into his arms, maneuvering towards another wall. They knocked into the one of the metal shelves on the way, rattling the glass until he took time away from kissing the kunoichi to steady it. "Careful," he whispered into her lips, ignoring momentarily the tugging at the buckles hidden under his vest.
She giggled, sounding slightly tipsy as her teeth nipped his neck, "Now you want to be careful, after what you did to me at the table?"
A grin inched up on his face, "You liked it."
"We could have gotten caught."
"You really liked it," Kakashi argued, pulling her collar open while trying to kiss her. Sakura ducked, avoiding his lips as she glared at him. The nerve of him, really, especially when they were almost caught by Anko of all people. He was also reminding her too much of every reason why she should have been pissed and not ready to throw herself at him. "I didn't bring you in here to argue," she hissed.
He stopped, staring back at her, "Admit it and I won't argue."
The kunoichi's anger erupted, "Kakashi, I am not going to admit that I enjoyed being felt up by you in public. I still have some modesty left. You haven't corrupted me that much that I would actually enjoy it when you use me like your personal toy-."
Kakashi growled while cutting off her words, pushing her back against the wall suddenly and pinning her wrists with one hand almost effortlessly, "Just listen a moment."
Her jaw snapped shut. The kunai thudded soundly as its sharp point sunk into the wood next to her head, his hand resting on the blade, "You're not my toy, Sakura. I've never used you like you were. You're just said that to make me angry."
Defiance shone through her jade eyes with her chin raised slightly, "It must have worked because I am the one pinned to the wall."
His hand dropped from the weapon to tangle in her pink hair then around to hold the side of her face, thumb trailing on her cheek and lip. Kakashi sagged against her with and exhaustive sigh, forehead pressed against hers, "I never did get a good, close up look at you tonight . . ."
Sakura stiffened, "You're looking now."
His hand sprung up and splayed on the wall as took a long look at her, moving to touch the back of her neck as he stayed still just above her parted mouth, "I'm not fighting with you right now over this."
Her eyes had drifted half-closed somewhere in the prolonged conversation, her voice turning low and husky, "Who's fighting?"
Kakashi snorted a chuckle, "You sound beautiful like that, even sexy."
A radiant smile spread across the kunoichi's face. Somehow she knew she'd never get tired of hearing lines like that from him. Even Inner Sakura applauded the Copy Nin's skill at reminding her exactly why she loved him in the first place. Her body shifted as her arms lowered to encircle the silver-haired man's neck, "Shut up and kiss me already?"
He did as she asked and kissed her gently, tugging on her lower lip. Then her arms tightened, pressing against the ninja as if the past couple of minutes were all but forgotten. She was mad at him? Really? When did that happen? Like it mattered anyway. He was here, kissing her hard and intense enough that her toes curled in her sandals. All in all, it was the perfect ending to an unforgettable night as Kakashi pulled away to kiss her neck, opening the collar her dress a little more in the process. What more could she have asked for? She had the man she loved after all. Yet, even as she felt his hands upon her, slowly inching up her ruined gown still she was exposed to his gaze, she couldn't help but wonder if some things could have gone differently. Poor Sasaki . . . Poor Takeo . . .
The Copy nin sunk to his knees between her legs, and her thoughts abruptly changed directions. He was grinning, wickedly, and Sakura blushed, vividly. From the unguarded lust in her lover's mismatched eyes, perhaps she should have been more concerned about her poor modesty.
There was a fine line after all between being risqué and just plain dirty, one that they were both toeing along together.
And of course, as she smiled to herself when his lips brushed over her folds, she wouldn't have traded that delicate balancing act for the world.
To Be Continued in Lesson 10 Gaiden of The Way of the Sword, A New Chapter, and Lesson 11 of the Way of the Sword, Dirty Laundry.