Chapter Seven: The Turn of Gears
Warning: Black Humour. This is the last time a warning is being left here. By this chapter, you should have a decent idea as to how facets of Humour are utilised (sometimes, in a deliberately over-the-top manner) in regard to various aspects of the story—sex being one.
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Without any thought in mind, Sasuke's eyes opened. The red there fought against the surging greyness in the room. Turning his gaze, he noticed an owl behind the weighty branches covered in the most delicate, fresh green leaves. He saw its life force very clearly.
Next to him, Mei was curled up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, sleeping peacefully with heavy sheets lying over her body. A map of sweat, along with the bite marks he had left, covered her freckles-dotted pink-ish skin. Just next to the bed, the flame inside the lantern guttered on the wick; the oil in the lantern was nearly gone and so was the splash of blue in the room. It would go out in few minutes. He knew it.
Sasuke inhaled the odour from their conjoinings, still heavy in the air, getting a bit hard at the prospect of going for another round. There will be another time, he thought and smiled to himself. He would not lie: Mei was the most beautiful woman he had ever slept with. It would be a waste to go near her just once.
It was easy to conquer her—almost too easy, he feared. All he had to do was give in to her girl-ish seductions, and there she was, not a moment later, vulnerable and pliant in his arms—fragile before the horrific illusions from his daemonic eyes.
Down and down she fell, trapped in the narcotic land of dreams the red wove. He needed to be close to the well. It was too obvious: Mist was ruled by a foolish coquette. Sasuke pushed the sheets back and got out of bed. He skittered his gaze around the misty area beyond the room: the halls were empty; Hinata was fast asleep in her room; and two guards were right outside by the brook off yonder. That was easy—almost too easy? Something did not feel right, but he had no choice; leaving empty-handed was not an option—he had not come all this way for nothing!
He bent down and wore his sandals and picked up the jacket he had taken off few hours ago. All the tools he needed were still inside. He checked them one last time and opened the window. A wave of silver came crashing against the room. Overhead, sky flashed with intermittent bursts of the whitest light: it would rain again, and this time, it would come down as a mighty storm.
Sasuke placed his hand on the window pane and jumped out. He closed the window behind him and flashed up to the empty well. Its mouth was gaping open, and a whistling sound rose up from its dry depths. It was not a very long drop. Quickly, he scanned the area and leapt down to the stone-covered bottom. He landed smoothly on the gritty ground and ran south, following the tortuous path ahead. It was dark, but the flame he carried on his palm was enough to light the way.
The path under his feet was mostly dry, but thin trickles of water ran down the narrow roof that was nothing but rocks and gnarled roots overhead. The passageway was dark, cramped, smelt earthy. Sasuke's ears pricked up at the sounds of rushing water. Just as he had thought: the well led straight out of the village. It was a safe passage to hide the Kage and important officials when all was lost.
When the sound of water rose to a melodious peak, he knew he was close as he drew near the white and foggy mouth of the long cave. Light came in through the twisting roots, and a large lake lay quiet beyond them. Its surface was slightly ruffled by the wind—the rolling waves, calm and pristine.
Moving the roots out of the way, Sasuke stepped into the light. He bent his head and looked down into the depths of the lake, his eyes carving a visible path into the murky layers with ease. There it was, the secret entrance to the hidden underground hideout. He stepped onto the water, looking up, feeling the night air on his face.
Breathing in sufficient air, he stopped the chakra supply to his feet and plunged down. A powerful shudder ran through him. The surface above him rippled, carrying frothy white foam and bubbles; and the darkness underneath was a watery abyss that waited to swallow him. He swam downwards and kept his gaze locked on the two large Buddha statues and a big sacred stone wedged between them.
Sasuke stopped, floating alone amidst the darkness. He leant his head back and watched as the whites of the moon gave way to the blacks that came up from the deep dark, which rose from the depths below. The last shaft barely caught the side of his face—silver in his right eye. He moved his hands and feet and swam ahead, looking at the chakra threads that guarded the entrance like a crafty spider's intricate web.
He swam upwards and went through the space between the chakra wires: it was large enough for one lean man to swim through (probably for the guards who brought the scrolls and items here). Soon, he found himself in another cave system. These were underground caves. He could hold his breath for a good thirty minutes, but this was a bit risky. He had to be careful, or he would drown in here and leave a mess for his clan to clean up. The shame would haunt him in death . . .
Lucky for him, Mist was a village full of fools: his Sharingan could see the residual chakra left by the ninjas. It was like a trail of breadcrumbs—far too easy to see and track for his eyes. He saw the guards standing over the well late at night. They must have come here for the Hyūga scrolls; otherwise, the trail would have been lost in the water. Globules of chakra swirled about and glowed in the water like puffy little jellyfish.
He looked at the space around him: it was illuminated by luminescent stones set deep in the pathways. When light passed through the bubbles, they shone like fine blue jewels. He doubted this place was constructed by the village; they must have found this place somehow . . . an underground shrine, he imagined, defiled by the greedy men of this village. It was heretical!
After swimming for a good ten minutes, he finally found the mouth in the labyrinth of pathways. Any man without his eyes would have been lost. He rose up slowly, his face touching the surface, breaking the still water. He breathed in a lungful of air that was redolent of incense. Focusing his chakra under his feet, he pulled his body up and stood on the water's surface. Beneath him was the rising blue glow of smooth stones.
Everything seemed worn out and decrepit here: sacred statues had crumbled to dust and few others were missing various parts. Sasuke built up massive chakra and released a large wall of Katon around him. It dried him off instantly; it was not wise to leave behind muddy sandal-prints for Mist's Intelligence Division. They were fools, but no one was that foolish!
A few stray droplets fell from his hair, but they were not large enough to create a noticeable trail. He placed his feet on the stone entrance and made a long leap straight for another large stone, covering the distance with ease; he did not want to leave any trace of his presence behind.
After the third jump, he landed in a room with a few chambers: one of them was open! Lucky . . . ? The guards must have left in a hurry when he demanded the scrolls and made those accusations. Was it that easy to galvanize Mei into action and make her spread her lovely legs wide for him? A smile twisted his face; she was easy . . .
He stepped into the chamber, never leaving the anchor of confidence his eyes assured. There were chakra prints all over the trunk by his feet. The chakra was disappearing fast, evanescent, a fleeting scent. He knelt down and opened the trunk and looked inside. Strange—it was almost empty save for some scrolls stamped with the Hidden Leaf symbol. Did she really divulge everything to avoid a possible war with Konoha? He was convincing!
He looked through the scrolls and finally found something that interested him. The scroll bore Root Division's stamp: Danzō! He found a few more stamps on the scrolls piled neatly inside the old shelf: it was made up of dried bamboo. That was all he needed to build something up. The gears turned fast in his head. Suddenly, like the forking branches of ink which grew in the paper from a single drop, a whole scheme emerged from the depths of his thoughts, winding and twisting into a ripening plan that carried the tidings of Danzō's cruel fate—a succulent summer's fruit that awaited the autumn's Son to enrich it with a rotting sweetness and grant it vengeance's ripe shade. All he needed were a few more pieces and that man's heart, his rotten black heart, was his!
Sasuke took out some empty scrolls from his pocket and made quick hand-seals and copied the words on the blank papers. They got covered with intricate patterns, and Danzō's fate was prematurely sealed. It would not be long before Mei woke up; he wanted to leave her in a pleasant illusion, without the nuisance of paralysis. Such tricks left bouts of mental and physical pain in their wake. He placed the scrolls exactly where they were before; then he re-arranged them meticulously and left the exact way he came.
When Mei woke up, her hand landed on Sasuke's breast. The trip back to the well was easy: it took him less than half the time to make it back before she woke up and the guards came back to check up on him and Hinata. She moved closer to him and pressed her lips to his, her tongue eager in his mouth. Clasping his arms around the small of her back, he pulled her close; the press of her breast against his flared his youthful loins almost instantly.
He pushed Mei onto her back and pried open her legs for another round. It did not take her body long to allow him to enter her again. When he touched her genitals, he felt the delightful seep of her moisture. He needed this more than she, so he enjoyed her thoroughly . . .
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When morning came, it was business as usual—just another day in his life that demanded that little change, that little excitement he craved. Mei provided it this time, but soon, she would begin to bore him. He was this way with sake, too. When he tasted it once, he always liked something new to touch his lips next time. Swilling down the same thing every day made it trivial (he was quick to bore, hard to please, restless); but she was different; she was a feisty beauty, and he enjoyed tasting unique, strong sake from time to time.
Mei lumbered around rather awkwardly in her office: her legs had a mind of their own. Her guards seemed to know a little too much, but that was her business—her political affairs were none of his affairs. He looked around when Mei sat down cautiously on the mat opposite . . . Hinata was not here. Perhaps she overslept?
"Naruto and others are waiting . . . " Ao's voice trailed off as he stole an embarrassed glance at his Mizukage, " . . . outside the village. The supplies are ready."
"Thank you," Sasuke said and looked at Mei whose face was whipped with worry and a delightful blush. "I've given the Chūnin Examinations' scrolls to Ao. He told me that you're satisfied with the arrangements?"
"Yes," Mei said, cleared her throat, and covered her neck with a delicate shawl, which hid the marks of her adventurous night. "I would like for your Hokage to consider two more officials from the Water country. They have given funding for the Ninja Academy's improvement. It's only fair that they are invited." She held her gaze, her face scrunching into a scowl . . . and he did not know why. They had had a good time . . . strange woman . . .
"It's not in my power to say anything on this matter. You can give me the official letter, and I'll hand it over to the Hokage. Then it's up to her to decide," he explained, looking at her blushing cheeks. She was searching for something in his face, but his expression was too calm to break under a woman's prying eyes—or so he thought.
Mei considered his statement for a moment. "It seems appropriate," she said, her voice sweet and soft. When she would come to Leaf during the Chūnin Examinations, he would make sure to invite her to warm his bed. "I have asked Ao to arrange for the letter. It should be ready in an hour."
Sasuke got to his feet. "I've got to check up on Hinata. She has been rather feverish . . . since last night," he said with a pregnant pause.
"Yes—yes, of course," Mei said and rose up to her shaky feet; her genitals were aching dully since last night. "Would you like to stay here for dinner?"
"I'm afraid not," Sasuke said and looked outside, "I have to hand over the report to the Hokage as soon as possible. She gets pretty sore—otherwise." With that, he left the living room.
The sun rays were bright and strong when he reached Hinata's room. He made a firm fist and knocked. Silence. She was still sleeping. He knocked again and spoke, "Hinata, it's time to leave. Unless you plan on staying here?"
Hinata's eyes opened suddenly, and her body convulsed with a strange excitement that still lingered in her. His voice stole its way over to her, and she knew she wanted him—her flesh was befooled by the spectacle she saw last night. She was trembling from the chill in the room. She had fallen fast asleep and remembered nothing other than his passions.
"Hinata," came the voice from behind the door, and it sounded quite eerie now, "are you awake? If you aren't feeling well, I can send in a Medic. Sage knows I can't handle these monthly female troubles."
"Y-Yes," Hinata said weakly and wrapped her arms around herself. The room was under the spell of morning cold. She looked at the fireplace: only the last coal was burning in the pile; the smouldering flames would go out soon. "I'm fine. I—" She slapped her feet onto the cold wooden floor and swayed a little and balanced herself by gripping the bedpost. She reached out a trembling hand to the door and opened it—quite unwillingly. Sasuke's expressionless face greeted her tired morning gaze.
"You slept in?" Sasuke asked, as if talking to himself. "Strange, how a woman that plays in the moors all day long forgets to wake up?" He turned and gave the door a little push and closed it behind him.
Hinata's body felt the burden of truth: his gaze was boring into her. She backed away and stood with her back against the wall. "I-I was a little tired," she finally said and dropped her gaze to her feet at the sight of Sasuke's eyes and a visible sheen of arrogance that hovered over them.
"Where were you last night?" he asked, looking at Hinata's face that was sweaty despite the chill in the room. "I told you to stay in your room, but you wandered off—and peeped at things. How naughty."
Hinata jerked her head up, her eyes widening. Pink colour bled to white in her cheeks and lips. She looked numb, almost dead under the weight of embarrassment. "I didn't mean to. I-I'm sorry, S-Sasuke-Sama. It won't happen again," she said, fumbling for words. Her lips trembled—shame finally broke through her eyes, and fresh teardrops stood on her cheeks.
Sasuke towered over her and placed his hand on the wall behind her. "Don't tell anyone," he whispered and contorted his features into a more serious look. "I mean it. What you saw doesn't concern you. There will be terrible consequences—for me and for you, if you did. Bury it deep in your heart and forget it. You will do us both good. Your family's honour depends on it." Then he moved back and gazed down at her as though he was waiting for her to say something.
Hinata's nose was red, and she absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist. "You—" she broke off and suppressed a noisy sob that came out as a whistle from her left nostril (adding to her shame), "—that day, you told me to do exactly as you a-asked. Why?"
Sasuke narrowed his eyes—now red—and turned his gaze slightly to look at Ao walking up the path, a letter in his hand. "Yes," he said, after a long consideration, "you're easy to tease—to see if you actually felt anything underneath this aloof wife act despite the whole discarded daughter affair, and the obvious embarrassment it has brought you. What did you find when you rushed off to see Naruto?" He smiled at the sight of defeat in her eyes; she could not speak at all . . .
"Your silence is enough. Play the game yourself. This is your chance to wash away the stain left on your Clan's reputation by the Namikaze. What better way than to string the arrow of shame and drive it through Minato's heart—Minato, who arranged for this unfortunate marriage to save himself and his ruined name," he went on, his voice heavy in the small room, "whether you choose to strike the sleeping snake or not is your choice." Then he left the room without saying another word.
Hinata remained silent, and her eyes travelled about her feet. Her ears buzzed with Sasuke's words even after he had left her alone in the room amidst the corroding silence. She was too easy to play with. Sasuke was right: Minato had poured this poison into her life—she had to fight back!
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