A/N- In the next coming chapters we will finish up the pill mission, we will be introduced to a new character and our main characters will be headed to the hideout for awhile. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy. Possibly update on Friday.

Naruto Pov

Something was undeniably off. And though something being, off, had never stopped him before—this time it was simply disconcerting enough to make him feel wrong.

The bites felt a little too contemptuous, the scratches were angry and tactical—wound inducing. And yet, that wasn't even the concerning part to him.

He had engaged in sex with a wide range of women, some even old enough to be his grandmother. It took him awhile to understand just what sex meant to all of them because for him it was quite simply to satisfy his rage or simply to get off for the sake of getting off. The first time he had ever had sex was the ugliest thing that he ever experienced. It was the first woman his father had ever bought over. As a child he remembered her complimenting his looks, saying that he'd be a heartbreaker like his father—as if he gave a shit to be compared. She was significantly younger than his father, and he wondered how they had managed to cross paths in the first place.

The girl would always greet his mother warmly with a smile at the door, telling her she had no problem babysitting. She seemed nice—and she got along with his mother well enough, she'd bring a basket of homemade baked sweets and share with him, though his mother always chastised her about spoiling him. She'd only laugh and insist that he deserved the best delicacies—and she wanted to make a good impression to the customer, the customer being him.

This was early on and during this time his parents still slept in the same bed—still shared fleeting kisses on the cheek. Although his father had began developing a rough edge at this point, it wasn't glaringly obvious that he began messing around with the sitter—he was simply the "doting husband" who thought his wife could use a break from their needy shitbag of a son. The first time he had ever encountered his father cheating, he hardly knew how to process the onslaught of emotions that rippled through him. He should have been asleep, but he wasn't—and he shouldn't have watched, but he couldn't tear himself away.

His mom had probably gone out to do some errands and his father used that as an opportunity to betray her. At the time he couldn't believe his eyes. They had woken him, labored breaths—moaning and groaning. He ventured into the kitchen as quietly as he could—considering all the potential creaks he could rouse on the way. This made his sneaking even more arduous but he was a smart kid and managed to avoid a great deal of landmines.

Once he rounded the corner at the end of the hall, he froze mid step. There she was her fingers flat and splayed against the linoleum. The buttons of her uniform torn open, and he could see her bra clad breast shuddering, her body lurching violently forward. He almost panicked, thinking she had been choking because of the long stream of dribble at the corner of her lips—but then his father's form crashed against her from behind the counter, shrouding her form with his bare arms.

Their bodies moved in tandem, huffing and moaning and he felt something in his chest sank and turn hotter than molten steel. He watched her crane her neck and they kissed, their mouths twisting and absorbing one another fitfully. A thing he had only ever seen his parents do and now that it was being shared, he felt a sense of immense dread. It went on for too long and he eventually ran back to his room to wait until his mother returned.

He wanted to tell but he didn't understand what he'd be telling. His mother came home and simply lit up the moment his father met her at the door, grabbing groceries. Naruto just knew—he couldn't say a word. Not yet. At some point his mother found out what had been happening all on her own and told the sitter that their house wouldn't be requiring her services any longer. And to his surprise his father adamantly agreed. He thought that'd be the last of that situation but no such luck.

The girl simply came around when his mother wasn't, sometimes she'd even be bold enough to walk around the house in his mothers' robes. She'd strut around smoking cigarettes and lounging around like the house belonged to her, and sometimes when his father stepped out of the house she'd come in his room and tell him how much she misses playing with him. He didn't miss her, the very fact that she had been allowed into the house infuriated him.

He couldn't comprehend it, but he noticed that she enjoyed sitting close to him, caressing his hair, and asking him if he thought she was pretty. He had never considered what a 'pretty' girl might mean to him or why he should care. That's how things started. She'd keep visiting, asking him more questions like if he had ever had a kiss—or if he'd like to hang out with her away from home. He always just told her his mom wouldn't like that, to which she'd reply, "Your mom doesn't have to know silly." She'd give him an easy grin around her cigarette and wink.

Once he felt comfortable enough to ask her why she was kissing his father and she'd say, "because I can't very well kiss you, now can I?" Looking at her, he didn't know why she'd say something like that, but she said a lot of shit he didn't get. She was an adult and he just assumed she was mature and trying to teach him something, "Not unless you want me to?" Crippling trepidation sunk into his bones and he felt that feeling, that off feeling that something was wrong.

The first time she had kissed him on the cheek. It felt hot—slightly wet and heavy. His cheek tingled and every time he passed his parents in the halls, he felt like his cheek had grown three sizes and they could tell. There was a downside but there was also an awakening in him, he wondered about things between men and women. He wondered what made her want to kiss him at all. The second time she kissed him, his father had gone out to get the mail. She plopped down on the bed beside him and asked him about the comic book he had been reading.

When he looked over to explain she pressed her lips right up against his and only pulled away when she heard the door bang shut from his fathers reentry. She giggled at the startled expression on his face and went in for another kiss. He didn't know what to do so he just sat there with his eyes open, watching her suck on the hard line of his bottom lip. His insides felt conflicted. His first kiss had been taken and more would have likely followed had his father not walked in to intervene.

His father was livid, but it seemed his ire was directed at Naruto instead of Mei. Ha. There it is. He forgot her name for a moment, but he remembered it the moment he saw it in his mothers Journal. When he was old enough the orphanage gave him the few family possessions that the cops were willing to relinquish. Mei was at the top of the list on a page full of his fathers mistresses, and he wanted to see her, to confront her—though he had no intention of killing her.

Unfortunately, things had gotten out of hand. Seeing Mei again resurrected a deep anger within—though that still hadn't been the thing that pushed him to kill. No, it had been Mei herself, running her aged lips about his mother and how she had killed the love of her life. He let her go on and on, and on—her words adding fuel to the fire in the pit of his gut. In the end Mei had stolen his virginity and his first kiss. He had never killed anyone before her, so she was a first of many things.

The sex was unlike anything he had ever felt because he was undoubtably furious, irritatingly horny and he was eager to bring this bitch down a notch. She couldn't wait to touch him, couldn't wait to be touched by him and she initiated everything—though he resisted for a moment to make her nice and desperate. She would not stop, getting aggressive with him and vocalizing how often she'd dreamed of him coming to her and impregnating her—like his father should have.

She was out of her fucking mind and before he knew it—so was he. He purposely threw her into a kitchen counter stripped her right there, though he busied himself with slowly grappling a knife from the station behind her. He hoisted her on top the counter and engaged in the venereal act halfheartedly. Though he became wholeheartedly involved once he began slowly cutting shallow lines into her back and feeling that terror start to set into her. He was killing her…and fucking her…and putting pressure on her wounds because he wanted to drag it out. Wanted her to live in agony—wanted to mend her up and tear into her again. His instincts incurably feral and all he could do is drown in that moment. It felt so brief to him but for Mei, he's certain those were the worse minutes of her existence. She was clawing his skin so hard that the pink bits of his flesh bunched up under her nails, but the adrenaline sedated the pain almost instantly and he was twisting her arm behind her back. Her bones appearing disjointed beneath her skin, as she attempted to escape his clutch—screaming and pleading. He could hardly hear her over the pouncing in his chest.

None of it felt good physically, but it felt satisfying. It extinguished a need. He came right into that convulsing muscle of hers and stared into her eyes until they lost their gleam.

Which brings him back to this current moment, with Hinata in his arms.

"Naruto?"

The shower was still in a deluge. The mist had gotten thicker, and he was there peering into her eyes. No tears, no apprehension. They were as opalescent as always, framed by wet star ridged lashes, her lips agape, blood smeared at the corner. He could see the prominent outline of his tooth prints—though it tapered off closer to her cheek.

When did I-

A flicker of something must've showed on his face because she places a wet palm to his face, trailing her thumb along his hardened jaw.

"It doesn't hurt," she whispers seeming a bit shy to admit. "I like it."

He swallowed, feeling something kick at his ribcage persistently. The subtle sizzling pulsations of scratches raw on his shoulder and the bites on his throat felt satisfying—permanent. But he wondered if it was a different type of satisfaction for Hinata too. After all, wasn't this the equivalent of giving alcohol to an alcoholic. The crazy was a cutter, and here he was—throwing her off the wagon to satisfy his own bloodlust.

She's probably getting off on it, like a filthy addict.

"It doesn't hurt," She insists even softer, her eyes appraising him in the sexiest way—moving from one eye to the other. Searching for some kind of welcome. She was suspended a little above him. He held her at her hips now, though their skin felt fused by this point. "I just…want you to relax and be yourself—with me."

There was a desperate yearning in her voice. Familiar to him because he felt it's ugly implications. Their lips grazed, and he couldn't help himself but to indulge in the full swell of her plump lips. The sweet metallic taste of her blood enticed him and deafened the concerns swarming his brain. He flattened her against the grouted wall and nestled himself right between her labia. With one hand, he reached between them, grabbed the base of his swelled dick and began to gently tap it against her succulent clit.

She gasped softly, and he could feel the thickness of her juices lubricating his bulbous head. He felt the instinctive urge to thrust but battled with his impulses by busying his mouth.

Their lips and tongues were constantly engaged in heavy strokes and delving deeper—just when he thought they were close enough—they somehow got even closer. The kisses were relatively reserved for a moment, but they began to evolve into something far more primal, her hot tongue slipped into his mouth, and he found it—immediately sliding his tongue along hers, twisting his head to access as much of her as he could. He pressed his tongue right back into hers, devouring her essence like the last meal he'd ever eat.

A delicious tingle prickled his mind and something like electricity settled into his spine. He felt her rutting up against him, that bit of friction was doing all kinds of shit to him. Her clit presses flat up against his pulsating dick, her inner folds and juices laving him like profound kisses. Her wet body sliding sinfully against his, coaxing him closer. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, as she panted and whispered moans against his lips.

"ah…I love how you feel—take it out on me…please…please…" She began whispering weakly, her body convulsing but her scratches seem to get even firmer when he wasn't any closer to penetrating her.

You'd think that the inflation of his dick would be big enough to ignore the shred of consciousness he had left but it wasn't.

"I'm learning a lot about you." He says against the corner of her lip.

Hinata only pauses to stare down at him, at first her face seems quite hard and then it softens as she drags a single digit up the side of his neck, "There's nothing much to know…y—you know everything."

"Oh, I strongly disagree," he breathed, shaking his head, looking right her, "You're way more self-serving than I gave you credit for."

Her forehead creases in bewilderment.

"N—No…I just, want to make you happy…to show you I appreciate everything you've done to help me."

He has no doubts that some of that was true, it sounds like something Hina would say to him, however—the delivery was nothing like how she would have said it. She was demure, submissive, and her words have always struck him as awkward as shit. She has always had this way of being bluntly aloof—everything about her always seemed so blissfully innocent.

She would never look him in the eye like that. He had known this from the start but even he couldn't miss the chance to be able to touch her like this—even if it wasn't her. It was her.

"Is that what your uncle taught you? That laying on your back is a good way to show gratitude? Well, it's no wonder he wanted to keep you close."

She went stiff in his arms; her eyes flutter and she shook her head.

"No..I ju-"

"Don't value yourself," he prompts, keeping his eyes on her, "Anytime someone comes along and gives a fuck about you, you're going to just roll over and let them have you? Like some sort of fucking parting gift?"

Her lips flatten into a line and she gives a terse shake of her head, "That's not it!" she exclaims defensively, her bell-like tone a bit hoarse.

The sound was different. Raw and real.

He laughs humorlessly, narrowing his eyes at her—wincing against the water trekking down the side of his face, "You sure? Because just a second ago you thought giving me your body would make me happy. Correct me if I'm wrong, is that not what gifts are for?"

She places her hands on her head, shaking it, "I just want be with you."

"Do you even know why? I bet I do. You think you owe me something because I acknowledged you when no one else would?"

"No, that's not it."

He scoffs, letting her loose, "You know what, if you're going to flat-out lie about this shit—that's fine by me but don't expect me to go along with it. You think I'm some type of savior, well I'm not. You think that you could just read my mothers' journal and know what I need, well—even she didn't know what I needed. Even when she was alive, her whole existence hinged on whether or not some shithead was happy…"

Sure, he might've been trying to bait the alter to unveil herself but the words he said, they were the most honest words he had ever said (aside from I'm horny) to anyone. And he hoped Hina could hear them because he wanted her to understand him. He wanted her to know that her body hadn't been the thing keeping him there and helping her. He was simply intrigued—in her. Her willingness to please him, the cute awkward shit she does around him—how she doesn't judge him, how she lets him be, in every sense of the word. She seemed so worried about him, like a zebra praying that lion gets some food soon.

Stupid but she means well.

Hina's intentions for clinging onto him may have been pure—in a sense but even then, she was still riddled with insecurities and a lack of self-worth. In truth, she had never really told him what she liked about him or why she liked him. And he had never asked. Which was on brand for someone like him anyway. In this life he had managed to get into many devious relationships where no one knew him. A life full of meaningless sex and constant death.

What the hell could she like about someone like him anyway? And how is he not a hypocrite for saying that bullshit about his mom—when he had done the exact same thing. His entire life had been dedicated to the hatred of his father.

Naruto slid the shower door open abruptly, but Hinata lashes out to grab at his hand.

"P—please don't go," she says softly and after a loaded pause she continues, "I'm s-sorry about reading your mom's journal—and even before—breaking in but—all that stuff you said, about me not knowing why I like you is wrong Naruto-kun,"

She comes around toward the front of the door and uses both her hands to press his hand against her small chest—just above her breast.

He refused to hide his confusion by this gesture.

"It's true that I'll always be grateful that you acknowledged me. Before you, I'd wonder if I exist at all, I felt so lonely—and empty, weeks could go by and I hadn't open up my mouth to say a word to anyone…" she stared down at her toes, her shoulders high, he could feel her heart accelerating, "I missed my papa and I desperately wanted to—to kill myself, but I couldn't go through with it—no matter how hard I tried. So, you came into town, and I started to look into you and know who you were—I was just curious—I never expected to find out…those things and when I did, I felt—hopeful."

She let the words hang over them, as though she couldn't bring herself to continue. She didn't have to, he understood. He hadn't even considered for a moment that this is what she had been thinking. He glowered in disbelief.

"You wanted to provoke me, you wanted me t-"

"Yes, at first."

"You wore the scent that day in class, wanting to get caught." His mind flew to that first interaction.

She nods shamefully without comment, keeping his hand tightly against her chest. He could see the tears glinting in her eyes.

"Are you fucking stupid?!" He spat, anger hot on his collar. "Do you even understand what I could've done to you. If at any point, I felt that I was backed into a corner I could have—I would have. You wouldn't have been able to take it back, Hinata. Death isn't some shallow cut—it's the final blow. Your body wouldn't function—you wouldn't have a mind to change. You'd be dead, nothing…"

He tries to tamp down his irritation, but his blood spiked, and he shook his head at her.

She flinches, her eyes snapping shut. "I know, but I hated…this, it felt like—I was already gone. Nobody would even care. I had no one—Naruto-kun." She cries, "No one." She expresses in a voice so small it touched his ears in the worse way. He felt speechless, like anything he could say would sound horrible. So he just wouldn't say, not until he calmed down.

Quiet lingered on for several seconds before she regained her composure.

"Then I met you…a—and things happened. I read your mothers journal and she wrote about you a lot…how sweet you were an—nd how you worried about her. She always felt like she wasn't good enough to be your mom, she felt…lost. Like me. S-she had hopes for your future, she hoped that you'd find true love when you were old enough. She w—was…" Hinata took a deep weak breath, "so smart, beautiful and sweet, and reading it—I really f—felt close to her, like she was talking t—to me somehow…though I knew that can't be true. Still…" she smiled reverently, "I wish I knew her…like I wish I knew my real mom. Li—like I wish my dad hadn't gotten sick."

He could feel her shake, hear the deep anguish cry trapped in her throat. She blinks profusely—trying to hide her face from him—her nose flush red.

"In a lot of ways, you're just like she described you. Protective, strong, observant, and charming. No matter what you think—those are the reasons I like—I know I love you. You could have treated me like everyone else does but—you didn't. You could have done worse to me in the beginning, but you didn't."

Fuck. The bar is in hell.

"I put my hands on you."

"I allowed you to, I wanted you to. I just, trust you, Naruto-kun. I feel safest with you. I wasn't giving my body as a gift—I wanted to feel what it's like to willingly be apart of something. I wouldn't just give myself away to anyone—I never have. People made the choice for me before but the first time you touched me—I wanted you to."

Lee Pov

He's never had many friends. Ever. People just kind of thought he was a moron, a freak. Nothing to think twice about.

Girls didn't find him conventionally attractive but what he lacked in looks, he made up for it with his confidence and extensive knowledge of how things worked. Or at least, that's how he thought he came across.

The motel was…atrocious.

The natural washed out blue haze of the bathroom made him feel as though he were wearing a pair of grubby glasses.

Lee turned the rusty valve of the sink and water sloshes out. He gave the water a few seconds before plunging his palms under. Cupping his hands, he splashes his face several times, hoping the cold water would snap him back into shape. If someone had told him a few days ago, that he'd be camped out in a motel with Naruto and Hinata he wouldn't have believed a word of it. It still felt hard to come to terms with.

Everything feels like an alternate universe.

The flat utility light above the sink flickers, he could hear a ruckus coming from the floor above him. The faint roaring of a man followed by a paralyzing thud. The ceiling rattled slightly and slowly Lee's eyes dart heavenward when a soft puling lightly touches his ear. The indistinct yelling resumes and he sighs, shaking his head exhaustedly.

It's none of his business.

He cuts off the tap and trudges into the main room area, over the prickly gray rug with a dark stain that looked suspiciously like a grease stain. He hadn't bothered to take his shoes off, nor would he. The Tv was already blaring the sounds of a gameshow when he arrived. The window only offered a dimly lit parking lot and a plaza of spirit stores that were out of business.

Thud!

An earsplitting noise from above again, he froze for a split second before lowering himself onto the bed. The seat of his pants are still damp, stale and colder than most of his body. It didn't help that there was a draft in the room and adjusting the thermostat didn't solve the issue either—it may as well have been a prop. His neck still felt quite tender—swelling and his face didn't feel any better, but it was better off.

He felt like a pathetic, skittish wuss and all-around pushover. He was no stranger to these feelings but what makes it worse was the humiliation of it all. Pissing in his pants like a kid with a bad bladder.

He would have rather been a goner.

At least if Naruto had taken him out, he would have been put out of his misery. But no, instead he gets to relive it—and marinate in the pants he did it in too.

"What have you gotten yourself into now Lee." he mutters to himself shamefully.

Shouldn't he get a pass, the reaction seemed justifiable given the horrifying circumstances. Being abducted by someone he once thought of as a friend—only to find he's one of the most dangerous people on the planet.

Lee lounges back against the hard pile of pillows behind him, shoving his elbows against it to loosen them up. He attempts to get unwind, shimmying against the silky red comforter irritably.

"I must be cursed, that's it—someone has it out for me."

How else could he even begin to explain the luck he's had? It's nonexistent by the way. His life was one big fucking conundrum of misfortune and it seemed to be especially dedicated to destroying him tonight.

There was a small window of opportunity where he may have been able to salvage the bit of dignity he still had but he decided to blow it. Like he always did. And still, even though he tried to talk himself into leaving. His brain kept supplying him with reasons to stay.

The first, Hinata.

What kind of person would he be if he decided to just leave her here with him? He is adamant that he'd never do that again. He might've folded in the past to save his own skin but not this time. Maybe staying here could change his luck—or lack thereof. But maybe this could also put him behind bars.

The second, Naruto.

Trickier than the first reason. He felt a great deal of bitter indignation, especially after being brutally assaulted for trying to protect himself. He couldn't seem to get past the dead cold glare baring into his soul whilst he writhed on the ground—fighting for a sliver of breath. He couldn't even be a formidable opponent in death, he could practically feel himself fading. Vague childhood memories trickled into his brain and all he could do was watch them flee, being chased away by infinite darkness.

He didn't know that he could forgive Naruto for that. Maybe it was simply too soon. The memory was still fresh, haunting.

Lee remembered Naruto looking so void of a soul, his mouth distorted in a sneer—his brows so low it looked as though his eyes had been gouged out. He didn't resemble a human…it just felt like raw wicked energy trying to snuff him out. The air around them felt like it had been curdling, his lungs were going dry and then Hinata was screaming—so loud, so hard. The only thing that stopped that stopped him from dying was Hinata. In a way he owed her.

But how could he forgive that? How could he leave Hinata…in the hands of someone like that?