Author's notes: This chapter is brutally non-con for both characters involved. One is an underage volunteer who was coerced into it under pains of death with absolutely no concept of what she was signing up for, and the other is mind-controlled by a powerful fuuinjutsu. It will be an ongoing struggle for these two for the next few chapters. Now is the time to bail if you DO NOT THINK YOU CAN HANDLE the brutal non-con, and skip right on over to Alpha Years - Chapter Nine.

o-o-o

o-o-o-o

o-o-o-o-o

Danzo had no difficulty finding Orochimaru's pit, despite never before gracing the main Konoha camp in Grass. It seemed highly apropos that a summoner of snakes would live in a hole in the ground. It was little wonder that Orochimaru's teammates rarely visited the camp – Tsunade and Jiraiya didn't seem like hole-in-the-ground sorts.

"Good of you to come when called," Orochimaru said without looking up from his spread papers. Danzo squinted at the stack, his eye not adjusting to the light difference as quickly as it once could, Orochimaru waved him to take a seat on the cushion. Danzo shoved the cushion aside in favor of the uneven dirt floor.

"I do not take lightly to summons, especially from young brats," Danzo said impatiently, crossing his arms in front of himself. "This had better be worth interrupting my plans."

Orochimaru's smile was twisted and hollow. It made Danzo's insides swim. "I wasn't aware that Konoha's War Hawk had any particular plans – not when Suna was defeated by the likes of the White Fang, and Ame's forces are scattered and smashed after we fought the Salamander." Half-truths; the White Fang was only one of the major defining factors that helped take down Suma's forces – Danzo had taught Sakumo after all, and in this case the student hadn't yet surpassed the teacher. Still, Danzo refused to show how such a deliberately glib mark irritated him. He and Orochimaru never made any attempt to get along more civilly than what protocol required, and the tension between them had worsened in the last few years when Orochimaru made known his interest in succeeding Sarutobi Hiruzen as the next Hokage.

"You're twenty years too young with too little to impress me. Besides, someone has to decide which of our forces need to be left behind for cleanup, and which needs to be reorganized and sent to Grass to join the fight against Iwa."

"Hmm. Indeed. A prospect which could be more efficiently-run with more information…" Before Orochimaru said anything more, his fingers flashed through multiple seals before casting a powerful jutsu that prevented others from listening or watching them, coating the room in a deep mauve-colored barrier that shimmered and reflected lantern light. "…when we obtain information from my spy in Tetsuzanshi."

Surprise made Danzo's eye widen. "You managed to successfully infiltrate with a spy?"

"I needn't remind you that this Black Ops mission is S-rank. My girl is in deep. More importantly, she's been able to survive the sixteen weeks she's spent in Madame Haori's Palace of Pleasure without any backup or assistance from Konoha, although I've insured that she cannot possibly be considered a threat when the Iwa shinobi frequent Madame Haori's."

Danzo studied Orochimaru. The bastard seemed quite smug – Danzo supposed that he had every right to be. Danzo knew of at least eight failed attempts to root out information on Iwa's leaders and its armies, since Tetsuzanshi was the closest they could physically get to the Hidden Village of Stone. "What do you need me to do?" One wasn't read into any Black Ops without viable reasons, especially Ops ranking above B.

Black Ops, after all, didn't exist. That was the point of them. The fewer people who knew of the Black Ops, the better the success rate. ANBU was involved with most of Konoha's Black Ops, but not all Black Ops involved ANBU. Even when ANBU was involved, knowledge and information was limited only to the need-to-know. ANBU didn't really have a formal hierarchy beyond squad leaders. As much as Danzo was considered to be the squad leader of squad leaders amongst the ANBU due to his experience and responsibility in training new recruits, his fellow captains were truly answerable only to the Hokage, who in turn was the only individual who knew the depths and entirety of all Black Ops. (Danzo sometimes wondered if that was really a good idea, seeing as how a Hokage's unexpected death could potentially collapse their entire intelligence community.)

"I need someone to infiltrate Madame Haori's under the pretext of business, to cross paths with and obtain my spy's report. No words are to be exchanged – she is aware that she is only to communicate with ANBU sign language." Which meant only someone from ANBU – active or past – would qualify as spy or contact. And considering this particular Black Ops, both persons had to have a high security clearance. "I've already warned her that she may have to … perform, to hide the true purpose of both of you."

Danzo didn't have the energy to squirm uncomfortably in his seat. It wouldn't be the first time he had sex with someone for information – whether it was a Konoha ally or enemy – and it probably wouldn't be the last. He was willing to do whatever – or whoever, as the case may be – for Konoha.

Orochimaru's expression was filled with dark amusement. "It will not be easy to sleep with her, Danzo-sama." Meaning: information will be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain if he didn't.

"Neither of us have any limits on what we are unwilling to do, in order to ensure mission success."

"Indeed." The acknowledgement that such was why Danzo had been requested from Wind was left unsaid. "Danzo-sama can always be trusted to do what needs to be done, so matter how… disturbing or difficult. But mainly it helps that you have been very good at keeping your identity as a Konoha nin shrouded, and that you're strong enough to survive and escape if caught." Danzo ignored the warning bell that rang in the back of his mind. He had done many things that he ought to be ashamed of in the past, but this was the fate of those who lived and worked in the dark roots, so that the leaves could forever be bathed in sunlight. "Because she is Black Ops, you will leave her there after obtaining the intel. She is to remain a mole to gather intel for Konoha for years to come."

That was the most terrifying part of the Black Ops – once you're in as an informant, it took an act of God (or the Hokage, which was one and the same these days) to get out. And even the God of Shinobi, as much as he loved reaching for the sunlight, knew too well the necessity of darkness. "Ah."

Orochimaru's eyes gleamed. "We've lost too many kunoichi in the past to overlook a successful mole who is finally turning up pay dirt."

Danzo held his hands up, palms out, in a placating move. "I am not arguing with you, Sannin-sama." He deliberately didn't keep the touch of sarcasm out of his voice. "I will do what needs to be done for Konoha. Do I know this kunoichi?"

"Yes." And that was the only answer Orochimaru provided as Danzo was given a scroll detailing where to find Madame Haori's Palace of Pleasure. "I won't demean Konoha's War Hawk by providing you a timeline or directions. I know that your time is valuable, and that you're too experienced to require hand-holding through the process." Orochimaru waved him away. "Actually, it's quite a relief, knowing I can trust your experience and judgment with this delicate matter."

Worthless words, Danzo thought as he left, coming from the overseer who wouldn't identity of the informant Danzo was supposed to find. He hoped this meant he wasn't going to have to sleep with every woman at the Palace until he found the spy – he cared less for the pleasures of a woman's flesh than a man's. But since this was Black Ops and the spy would be familiar with the ANBU dictionary, he felt assured that the spy would be a familiar active or retired ANBU kunoichi with whom he had worked in the past.

oOoOoOo

A week later, Danzo entered Tetsuzanshi. The place was cobbled together with thick, uneven slabs of wood and rock, including the walls that surrounded the village, as well as the ramshackle buildings within the walls. The air stank heavily from the smoke belching from the refineries' smoke stacks. A thin layer of black soot covered everything. The people who walked the streets were as grim and as bleak as their surroundings, their clothes well-worn and well-repaired. It was vastly different from Konoha and all her bright colors and bright buildings, and even brighter faces.

Danzo fit in perfectly. He had shed his forehead protector and exchanged the wrappings around his head that covered his scarred right eye socket for a single leather eye patch. It gave him a harder edge, one that he used to his advantage. His shinobi uniform had been switched out for rough leathers and wools in earthen tones; the clothes looked as rough as he felt as he strode the streets of Tetsuzanshi with a well-faked familiarity.

It would not do to head immediately for the Palace. Instead, he wandered over the crowded markets where sellers were loud and vibrant about their wares. He allowed himself to be buffeted through the milling crowd, to be seen by different visitors and residents. He felt the presence of others' chakra signatures around him – visiting Kumo nin from their Hidden Village, Iwa nin, and some Ame stragglers – and knew they also felt his own. But he had been careful with what he suppressed – enough to make him look like a mildly-dangerous bandit, but not enough to be an immediate threat.

He bought goods that would look like he was replenishing long-term supplies; packages of tea, rice, seasonings, dried meat, some hardy turnips and radishes that would keep well enough to last one for a few weeks if needed. He was careful not to flash his money around – just a few coins passed hand over hand to buy what was needed. He was observant at the market, and didn't bother hiding it as he noted those who watched him. Don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you, he said with his body language and gaze. (He also didn't hesitate to break the questing hand of one stupid-but-brave pickpocket.)

Danzo allowed his meandering saunter to wander from the market into other commercial districts, where restaurants, pubs, shops, and inns could be found. He kept walking until he reached the end of the street, where a depleted inn stood backed against an alley, the sort that would be in his budget. He studied it a moment – it looked like it hosted more cockroaches of the insect kind than the human kind – and then entered the building.

After paying for one night at the room, he asked the innkeeper, "Where can a man go to have fun in town?" He deliberately adopted an accent that would place him from the southeastern region of Stone.

The innkeeper peered at him from beneath two thick, white eyebrows, eyes barely seen. Then he twitched his thicker mustache in thought. "Depends on what sort of fun yer lookin' fer."

"Young," Danzo said with a deliberate pause. "Female. Clean."

"Hoh. Yer best bet would be d' Palace – the Madame takes good care of her girls, and she's gotta good choice of d' goods. Iffen ye gots the money. Clean girls ain't cheap, yeah."

"One good clean fuck is worth more than ten diseased ones, yeah."

"Oh hum." The innkeeper shrugged, diffident.

"When're they open for business?"

"Earlier dan most, yeah. The Madame feels suppertime's a fortunate time indeed. Iffen you gots the money, you gets food an' a fuck. 's a good deal, yeah."

oOoOoOo

Since the Iwa nin were far less likely to frequent brothels during daylight, no doubt favoring darkness to cover their comings and goings, Danzo left to check the place out just before "suppertime" was likely to start. He made sure that his path to the Palace – if the maps of Orochimaru's that he memorized were correct – brought him the long way through town, while still bypassing the most desperate parts. As tough a bandit as he wanted to appear, he didn't want attention drawn to himself by wandering into someone else's turf and then having to fight his way out.

Danzo had expected strays for the town – stray dogs, wild cats, something. He saw a number of wild rats, bold in the receding daylight as they stood on their hindquarters and watching him before returning to the piles of refuse that lined the alleys. The neighborhoods closer to the Palace were nicer in quality and maintenance – a high-end brothel that was notorious for an all-female staff, which included the permanent employment of multiple Iwa kunoichi— and dealt harshly with any crime that took place nearby, even as its presence attracted the most unsavory characters. Iwa's Hidden Village didn't have brothels; the Palace was the closest and of the best quality.

The Palace was huge and sprawled long – easily the size of its name – a gaudy structure of stone that was washed frequently, making it that much more of a blot in the townscape because it wasn't dirtied with soot as the rest of Tetsuzanshi. It was surrounded by a stone fence, from which sharp, deadly pikes jutted outward on the top. He had a sneaking suspicion that sharp glass would line the stone in between the deadly pikes. Every now and again, heavily-reinforced oak doors marked the walls as possible entrances.

One such door was open, as a small figure, dirty and clothed in a simple white shift, crouched in the entrance and fed a few of the town's stray dogs. Her face was bare of any markings, and her hair poked out wildly in all directions like a hedgehog. He didn't let the sudden spike of recognition falter his step or light his eye. He did slow his pace, as one might if curious.

Danzo's first emotion, as she raised her small eyes to meet his, was anger – fucking Orochimaru – and his second, as lust unexpectedly punched through his gut, was desire.

"Tsume! Are you feeding the damn dogs again?"

Tsume jumped at the sound of the calling voice. She quickly shooed the dogs away with a wave of her hand. "Maybe!" she yelled over her shoulder. With one last flick of her eyes at him – curious recognition – she grasped the door's iron ring and pulled it shut. He heard the bolt slide in place, and an older woman's voice reprimanding Tsume for disobedience. One of the dogs whined and scratched forlornly at the door.

It will not be easy to sleep with her, Danzo-sama.

Fuck Orochimaru. Danzo would do what needed to be done for Konoha. And if it wasn't in Konoha's best interests, Orochimaru's head would wind up on a pike within a month of completing this mission.

oOoOoOo

"Will you be staying in town for long, Shigeru-sama?" Danzo followed the young woman into the "dining room." Her face was heavily powdered and exquisitely painted, and her crimson kimono artfully draped to reveal one pale shoulder and a great deal of cleavage. Said dining room was filled with multiple tented booths – the better for which to keep the customer's identity hidden. (Not too well – he saw a glimpse of three other men being led to their own private booths.)

"Just enough to satisfy basic needs," Danzo replied. She smiled at him in a vapid manner – Madame Haori taught her girls to make light conversation, but not to pry. He slid into the plush leather booth she gestured and ignored the prickling of his skin in warning at the thought of not being able to see his surroundings.

"Do you have a preference, or would you prefer a menu?" Her voice was demur as she knelt on the seat beside him, the robes drawn back reveal a slender pale thigh. He looked at it with some interest, fingers twitching as if tempted to slide his hand up her thigh, and into the hidden depths of her parted robes.

"I prefer them young," he said, drawing back to look at her face. "Wild and bold, yeah. Do you have any recommendations?"

She tilted her head to the side. "How young? Puberty? Early or late teenaged years?"

He gave her a show of his teeth. "My preference is… well, let's start at puberty and work our way up from there, yeah."

She slid an arm around his shoulders and leaned against him. One hand idly played with his hair. The skin on his neck prickled in warning. "At that age, very few are wild and bold – they're usually more of the meek and obedient side."

He phrased his desires very carefully in order to manipulate the possibility of getting Tsume right away. He could only bank on her personality not changing too much during her stay at the brothel. "I don't like them to lay there like broken dolls. If I wanted nothing but a warm body to ride, there's plenty of stray women in my neck of the woods that I can drag into the bushes, yeah. If I'm paying for it, I want them eager and wanton, yeah."

"Hmmm." The woman withdrew from him slightly. "Well, Tsume-chan isn't wanton, but she's certainly the bold type. And young. She's quite popular, but you may be in luck for having arrived so early."

He felt a rush of adrenaline, but was careful not to let his respiration or facial expression change. "What an unusual name. Talon – I'd expect something flowery or soft for whores, yeah."

She shrugged, and bravely slid a hand up his thigh. "Well, you are looking for bold. Otherwise, perhaps I could introduce you to Usagi, or Hotaru."

"Meek names."

Her lips were whispery soft as she dragged them across his cheek. "Meek girls."

He pulled her hand away from his thigh, and leaned forward to draw a deep breath at the nape of her neck. "Let's try this bold girl – this Tsume – and see if she's to my liking."

The woman smiled as she tilted her head back. "Perhaps what you need is a bold woman, sir."

He let his gaze roam down her face and into her cleavage. He drew up a hand and cupped a heavy breast, weighing it. "You're a little too… mature for me," he whispered, dropping his hand. She didn't look offended as she slid out of the booth and let the heavy curtain sway shut behind her. He settled back against the uncomfortably-soft seat. He cast his senses out without chakra, trying to get a feel of what was going on around him. He knew that they were surrounded by kunoichi – Madame Haori was a no-nonsense woman who maintained the health of her goods, but also made sure that none of the whores were kunoichi themselves. It appeared less threatening to her customers.

His gut churned at the thought of Tsume and sex. He remembered her as an inquisitive child – ten years old, all bristly hair, knobby knees, and sun-kissed skin. He remembered her from Sakumo's letters, but couldn't recall if she ever expressed interest or attraction in boys. In many ways, she saw Sakumo more of a father figure than an older brother-in-law-of-sorts, and often sought his advice. She had been far more interested in pranking her fellow students with her two girl friends, playing fetch with her dog, and caring for Kakashi than being interested in boys.

Danzo leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands as uncertainty made his head spin. He had done a lot of foul deeds in his lifetime – but none of them had ever involved sex with a preteen. He dropped his hands at the sound of approaching footsteps, and leaned back, arrogant confidence restored in his body language. The woman who had escorted him previously arrived with a tray of appetizers and a mug of hot tea. The money he had been willing to part with hadn't been enough for a full meal. "You're in luck," she said with a purring voice as she slid the tray across the table to him. "It's a little early for her shift, but Tsume-chan is free." The woman winked before leaving. "So whet your appetite – I know that hers is quite voracious for one so young."

Mind and stomach both churned in disgust as he poked through the appetizers – delicate stacks of colorful crackers topped with cheeses and meats, and artfully carved vegetables, all fanned out on the silver platter. Tsume had looked barely unchanged from the last time he had seen her – young, boyish, dirty. He didn't know how she would react to seeing a familiar Konoha face. He hoped she wouldn't be her normal impetuous self – it was a good way to get them both killed. He forced himself to eat the crackers and vegetables, praying his stomach would hold down the food despite the churning. Damn it – Shimura Danzo was not nervous. No Inuzuka woman was going to intimidate him anymore, no matter how young or how vivacious she was. No situation was going to make him hesitate ever again.

For Konoha. Any and all means to the end. This is what it means to be in the darkness of the supporting roots. Orochimaru had chosen Danzo to carry out the mission, because Danzo wouldn't hesitate or botch this opportunity. No doubt Orochimaru had chosen Tsume because she didn't need to ask questions to sniff out answers. If she could tell, from more than five kilometers away, what Hatake Sakumo had last eaten, currently wore, and health status was, then she didn't even need to have sex with the Iwa shinobi to obtain details.

Danzo's hand froze, the mug of tea half-way raised to his lips as the next thought wormed through his brain – an ugly, slippery thought that sent shivers racing up and down his spine.

Tsume didn't even have to be in the same building to sniff out the Iwa shinobi in detail; perhaps even the same damn city block.

Orochimaru, he thought, fingers tightening around the mug, was going to die.

He hurriedly drank the tea, ignoring how it burned down his gullet and settled with the food into a hard lump. By the time he had his fill, he heard soft approaching footsteps. They were louder than he expected from a Konoha genin – but not, he supposed, for a preteen whore. An olive-skinned arm slid through the curtain first, and then gently parted it for Tsume to slide through. Her wild hair had been carefully smoothed out and tied into two separate pigtails. He wondered how long it took to tame her hair – that alone must've taken hours and a crew of hairdressers. She wore a pleated skirt and a simple white blouse, and subtle makeup highlighted her eyes and cheeks. Tsume wasn't exactly a pretty child – and this particularly ugly duckling did not have the potential to blossom into a swan. Still, surprisingly, the makeup didn't hurt.

Desire and arousal burned through Danzo's veins the moment he saw her. Confusion filled his mind – he didn't know why he wanted her, especially since women weren't his usual fare for sexual pleasure – as she smiled at him, all teeth and bravado. "Hi," she said with too much cheer. She pulled herself into the booth, letting the curtain close behind her. She reached out and walked two fingers up his thigh, towards the quickly-forming bulge in his pants. As her fingers walked, they clumsily flashed signs at him. Always watched and listened by three kunoichi in back end of room. Take me dog facing head. He grasped her wrist, short of her hand cupping him. Her hand was still small. It was engulfed in his fist.

"Would Shigeru-sama like to start here," Tsume's voice shouldn't be this husky, "or should we go to my room?" She batted her eyes at him. He wordlessly shoved her out of the booth and scooted after. Anger and lust pulsed through his body. Danzo had disciplined his body, forcing it to overcome normal desires of function – he could go without sleep, endure pain and temperature extremes, and forgo food and water in order to succeed at whatever he set his mind to. Men have two heads – and I refuse to let the one below my belt rule me.

Somehow, this slip of a girl was igniting fire, and she was going to destroy both of them in the flames.

Danzo sensed the three chakra signatures of the kunoichi she had mentioned following them. He also sensed other attention and desires follow them – or Tsume, rather. She led him through the dining hall, and up a grand, wooden staircase. An ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and cast rainbows of light. Tsume laughed and danced through them, tugging his hand eagerly.

Down the hall she led him, past rooms with various occupancies, until they reached one that was painted all in red and set aglow by a small, overhanging chandelier. The room smelled of patchouli and cinnamon, and the carpet was thick and soft beneath their feet. The bed was covered with brown velvet bedding, looking soft enough to sink into. Thankfully, it wasn't bright, and the window was covered with a frosted tint that kept the room dim. Tsume locked the door behind them.

"Please, Shigeru-sama, please. Sit." She flapped her hands at the opulent upholstered chair; it was red to match the room, with a gold fringe. Danzo allowed her to tug him into place, mind working overtime. Was he supposed to react to the desire? He knew that something wasn't right for his natural defenses and rigorous discipline to be so easily swept aside. His breathing hitched as she crawled into his lap, too light and too little, and slid her arms around his neck. "How would you like to do this?" she asked softly, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. "Fast and lots of times? Or slow and drawn out?"

He didn't know how the hell one could be slow and draw it out when the combined desire and lust made his vision water and heart pound. As she planted dry kisses at his jawline, he felt her hips undulating against his. Each slide of her body against his pelvis fanned the flames higher and made revulsion claw up his throat. Sweat broke out on his forehead, under his arms, the palms of his hands. He found said hands stroking back of her thighs, and forced them still. "I think…" Danzo swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "I think fast and furious is a good way to start. Yeah."

"Mmm. But don't you want to explore?" She grinned and slid off his lap to kneel between his knees. She leaned forward and nose-nuzzled the outline of his erection through his pants. Her lips followed where her nose had been. "I'm quite curious about you." One of her hands, hidden between her hair and his thigh, signed, Put on a show for watchers. And since she wasn't talking, then the watchers also had to be listening.

For Konoha…

Danzo stood abruptly, and walked around her. He seated himself on the edge of the bed and tried not to feel filthy and contaminated as he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, "Strip."

Tsume did, dancing and giggling. There was nothing sexy with the way she jumped out of her blouse and shimmied out of her skirt and panties. She still looked boney, but not quite boyish. The sight of her body, caught between child and woman, was gangly and awkward. Her breasts were barely budding and her hips were slightly curved, indicating a gradual widening of the pelvis. She only had a little bit of hair covering her pubes. He felt old and decrepit as the remains of his soul shriveled and his arousal grew. There was nothing there to desire! Danzo preferred his women to be full, rounded, soft – and his men too (though sexual encounters of that nature were few and far between in missions).

Trying to convince his cock of this was impossible. Everything that she did only heightened his need to take her and do filthy things. For Konoha. He was sure he had done worse things in the past than this, although he was having a very difficult time remembering them as she clapped her hands and looked at him. "Shigeru-sama, you still have your clothes on!" Tsume reached up and started tugging at his buttons again. This time, she popped them free, one by one.

"I was waiting for you," Danzo murmured, all too aware of the three chakra signatures that lurked outside the walls. Was he supposed to react positively, or was this a test that the Iwa nin might have to wean out possibly shinobi like him? Tsume tugged his shirt off and carefully draped it on the chair. Then she slid his boots off and stuffed his socks into them after making a wry face. He was sure she smelled worse. Her hands trailed up his legs as she knelt once more between his knees. Danzo's stomach was fluttering now, no longer churning in revulsion, but instead with disgusting anticipation. She traced him with one small hand, watching his face.

When Tsume winked at him and unzipped his fly, Danzo figured that meant he was supposed to react in desire. She was far too skilled in drawing out his erection from his pants – but then she gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise that reminded him all too much of how young she looked when they first met, with a squirming baby in her arms and a diaper bag slung from her shoulder.

Two short years ago.

She had only been ten fucking years old.

"Gosh," she said, in a voice that made him want to crawl to a corner and commit seppuku, "you're… awfully big." She shyly traced the broad length of him, from base to hilt. He forced his eyes not to flutter shut at the burning pleasure. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, and then her pink tongue darted out to taste. He forced his hips not to surge forward or his hands to sink into her hair.

Tsume was thorough as she explored him with her mouth and hands. By the time he was panting and clenching the bedcovers in his fists, his cock glistened with her saliva. She looked shy as she dragged his pants down and off. "I still think you're overdressed, sir."

"Fuck that." He couldn't let her continue touching him. He wanted to die. He wanted to kill her to make it stop. He never wanted to stop touching her. With a bruising grip, Danzo yanked Tsume to her feet and flipped her on to the bed. He ignored the fluttering of two of the watching chakras – all chakras were in the opposite corners in the front of the room and the door. Tsume grinned at him as she scooted backwards to the headboard, but her smile faltered as her gaze dropped down to his erection. It jutted upward and pointed towards her, almost as if drawn by a magnet. He twirled a finger. "On your hands and knees."

Looking somewhat apprehensive (fearful his mind whispered, even though he knew it was impossible for her to feel fear), Tsume obeyed. He tried looking everywhere but her as he pulled her back a little towards him and bent forward. Damn – she disappeared right beneath him. Maybe if he focused on how Tsume was merely a petite woman, he could drag his mind away from her being so young. (Twelve years old, his mind whispered at him. You are about to rape a twelve year old girl. For Konoha. SHE'S TWELVE FUCKING YEARS OLD—)

Danzo slid his left hand beneath her, exploring. He was disturbed to find her wet and already moving her hips against him as he slid in a finger to gauge her depth. Not much room. He would tear her to shreds – why did she have to moan like that? He leaned his torso against her back, transferring the bulk of his weight to his knees to bring the supporting right hand to the base of his cock (tried very hard to not to think of how vulnerable his exposed back and buttocks were, with three angry kunoichi watching them). He dragged his hand up the length, ignoring the sparks of pleasure that flared along his spine, and then grasped it near the middle. If he didn't move his hand from this position, minimized the length he would sink into her, maybe he wouldn't hurt her as much.

She reached one arm behind and slung it awkwardly around his neck. That dragged Danzo out of his thoughts as she pulled him downward and arched to kiss him. He jerked his head back, stung. Too intimate. He never kissed any mark on the lips – his stomach curdled. He didn't kiss lovers, either. It was a good way to get poisoned. He ignored Tsume's bewildered expression as he braced himself, and then slid into her. The bewildered expression became one of discomfort. He kept his right hand wrapped around himself and his left hand massaged her stretched vulva gently. He remained still despite his trembling knees, letting her adjust to his girth.

Tsume dropped her head for a moment, muttering curses too soft to distinguish. She fidgeted a little, unsure of whether she was supposed to move her hips towards the intrusion, or away. Danzo dropped his head too, rolling it over her shoulder until all he could see was her hair and her hands pressed into the mattress. His knees were already beginning to ache from the soft surface, and his lower back from the strain of his bent position. Then he rocked. Slowly and gently at first. He braced the palm of his left hand against her abdomen so his thrusts wouldn't drive her into the mattress, and his middle and ring fingers pressed on either side of her clitoris out of habit, rubbing gentle circles. Desire clawed at his insides – all he wanted to do was pound her into the mattress, make her scream.

He shoved that thought into a box. Don't scream. Stop moaning! He didn't know if that last thought was for him or for her. So he shoved it away too. He was usually good at compartmentalizing his needs and reactions.

Tsume reached up again and cupped his jaw with a hand. She turned her head slightly to watch him out of the corner of her eye. She deliberately dragged her hand slowly across his jaw, and then dropped it down. His eyes followed. As his hips moved harder against hers, as his left hand tweaked and played her clit, as pleasure threatened to overwhelm his rational mind and drown out the rising horror, he watched as her hand, carefully hidden just below where only his dropped head could see, began signing.

Three Iwa leaders. Confirmed bulk of supplies bought from agricultural community where soil rich and dark; travels perhaps twenty kilometers to base? Many sheep and cattle nearby. Over five thousand strong, armed with weapons made here. One thousand ronin, three thousand, six hundred ninja. Fourteen hundred unknown. One leader summons. Army base in deep valley with two different rivers, one lake, salmon-run, in Waterfall. Guarded by geese. Very close, live volcano. Details after glorious details spun from her finger. More than any other kunoichi asking questions could possibly have obtained, short of being taken the enemy's main camp by whomever she seduced.

Tsume's fingers faltered as his thrusts increased in speed and strength. His hands slipped, sweaty, trying to grab at something – he found his right hand grasping one bony hip, vaguely wondering how it got there. Trembling, slowly, her own breath shuddering, she signed: Is sex supposed to feel this good?

His orgasm slammed so forcefully into him that colors flashed through his eyes. It ripped through him, alighting every nerve on fire, making it impossible to breathe past his pounding heart. He clawed at something – was it her? Please don't hurt. He felt her insides quiver and she shrieked, curling into a ball with trembling limbs. I broke her. Fuck I broke her. He collapsed on the bed, half-attempting not to fall on top of her and mostly succeeding, and thinking, breathe.

They lay together on their sides, facing each other, for several breathless moments. His limbs felt weak although his fingers buzzed, and sleep lurked at the foggy edges of his mind. Tsume's hair stuck to her sweaty skin and her eyes were glazed as she reached up and touched his lips. There was a look of wonder on her face. Danzo was too tired to slap her hand away. "That felt really nice," she told him with a breathy whisper. She draped a thigh over one of his legs, and pressed against him.

Danzo felt hatred, disgust, and desire tearing at his soul.