Chapter Fourteen: The Daemon
AN: Omamori are Japanese amulets that provide luck and good fortune.
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Forgetful, he had exculpated himself from his unintentional sins for he was a boy at heart. The rhythms of his soul vacillated between sin and innocence, ashes and lust, life and worms . . . what had he become? Yet it festered, slumbering in the deep, growing in the bowls, crawling in the soul, leaving a trail of ugly black blots that, in time, would become bigger and deeper, cutting up his empyreal substance to bits.
He resented himself and he did not know why. The puddle by his knees was still, a murky mirror. His eyes, crystal blue, did not seem to belie his state of confusion. He curled his lips back over the teeth and watched as his own image in water mimicked the features with natural perfection. A droplet of blood from his dry lips fell down and created a single ripple. The hue disappeared in the water that must have been vast for its existence.
When the water stilled, the surface became a bit clear again. His lips trembled as he looked down at the man burdened by Time. He felt it on his back and it drooped under its weight; he had grown decrepit before his own time.
At his back, he could hear that Death-cum-Time custodian of heaven . . . heaven? Would he ever taste the sweetness of its drafts and the promised immortality? No, hell was a place reserved for him—that deep pit that was forlorn, destitute of the peace he sought. He would be left alone there to rot for another eternity, for this life and its fetters did not hold his desire for peace sway. It left him over and over and brought back the need for its mortal taste that was surreal, a reminder that it was all but a dream of a boy past the years of boyhood. (Boys grew up so fast . . . )
A sob burnt his throat, but he satisfied his sadness by biting his lip fiercely, letting it bleed in a comedic sacrifice, thinking that it would overpower the emotion that rose inside him with force: uncontrolled, unrestrained, untamed. Finally, a whimper forced itself out of his mouth, yet it shook him such severity that his body trembled with the coming shame that would not let him hide.
Yes, he felt shame. He bowed his head and looked deep into his own eyes through the haze. He could not see his face anymore—it had become a mystery to him. He had become a mystery to himself, for he could not remember how he got here.
He could not remember his days or his nights that tempted him like seductresses to remember their play; he had grown weary of her touch, perhaps. After all, it was not as though she was ever kind to him. Pitifully, he whimpered and leant further down till the veins bulged out in his neck from exertion.
His lips touched the water's surface, and, before he could even think of his pride, he let his thirsty tongue leave the trap of his mouth to taste it. It was cool and stagnant. He could not even taste the dirt he swallowed down with it. His lashes touched the water that claimed his tears like a selfless mother. He wanted to drown inside . . . the shame was too much to bear . . . cheap . . . everything he was thinking was fucking cheap . . .
"Naruto, stop," Sasuke said, sitting under the shadows. He moved his hand and tapped on Naruto's shoulder. Naruto shuddered under his touch, a beaten down dog.
Naruto craned his neck, his eyes red from the tears he had shed. His swollen lip did not heal the way it should have. The misery on his face was made more picturesque by the tear-lines on his dry as dirt features. He twisted his left arm and heard the clank of chains that tethered him like an undisciplined dog to the wall. His fingers twitched, but he did not fight it this time.
He curled his fingers firmly around the chain that held his freedom. It was a judgment placed upon him: a forgetful prisoner. Why was he here . . . why? "Sasuke—" he asked pitifully and let out a harsh sound with a gob of spit that trailed down and then firmly clung to his chin, "—wh-why am I here? Why won't you let me go?"
Sasuke leant forward and wiped the spit from under Naruto's chin and then brushed his hand on his own clean pants. It left a whitish stain there, but that did not concern him: Sasuke pitied him. What would he tell him? "You ran off into the forest last night. You don't remember?" Sasuke asked and bent his gaze on Naruto and watched as the thing inside Naruto made him recoil from Sasuke's tall shadow.
Looking around absentmindedly, Naruto tried to piece together the fragments of the night's memory from within the chaotic blackness that sat upon the face of his past. His eyes betrayed the confusion in him. He tried and tried but nothing came to his mind. He remembered going to the academy, and after that, he could remember nothing!
The gossamer beauty of the intricately woven omamori, which always shook in the evening wind, truly failed him. Kushina had made it for him when he got married. What bad fortunes did it stop? It was meant to hold his happiness, but even the incubus that climbed his bed, a terrible omen, did not get caught between its threads. He could have found solace in the fact that he, at least, dreamt—like all people! It was a useless gift, one of the many his mother had thrown his way over the past few years.
He could not believe himself when a feeling of such loathing for her came over his heart; but it was all right. His mother and father . . . no, no one could see inside him to truly tell how he felt. It was not as if they could tear open his breast and look into his heart. These mysteries were his to relish and bear—the gift of solace in his heart's realm, a place reversed for every man's secrets.
Naruto closed his eyes and let out a peaceful sigh. The character of his features was soft with the calm that resonated in him. He had found a momentary peace in the thought that he still had his heart to himself . . . and his friend, his brother, Sasuke. He opened his blue eyes and peered deep into the red that comforted him today.
He would lie to himself if he said that he did not find Sasuke's eyes frightening sometimes, but not today; today was his day to drown in the blood of his eyes and find peace in the martyrdom that awaited him right at their deepest depths. (His thoughts were strange, but their strangeness amused him.) He would sink down to the bloody depths of them, but he would be happy. "No," he said, calmly this time, and felt a tremor creep into his voice from weakness.
Evening's last light, less yellowed and more dulled, shone on the ceiling above him before sun's daily death. Sasuke looked up as if the light disturbed the deep shadows that stood about. He brought his eyes down and held his hard gaze. He breathed out softly and got to his feet. "Try to remember the night before. Where were you the previous night?"
Naruto looked up as Sasuke stood over him and looked down at him as if he had done something terrible. "Why are you . . . ? I do . . . " his voice trailed off. He could not remember anything. The thought shattered the frail peace in his mind he thought was going to hold a while longer. "I-I don't remember." He leant his head down and began to look at himself again as though that would give him the answers he sought.
"And the night before?" Sasuke asked and took out a dagger from the leather sheath. He moved its tip under the bloodied shirt's neckline and tore it from the back to expose Naruto's skin. He had reddish freckles dotting the area about his neck and shoulders, but the rest of his back was clear and slick with sweat. He had been feverish the whole time . . .
Sasuke moved Naruto's torn shirt over the sweat to wipe clean the area around his spine. "Do you remember anything else?" he asked and moved the sharp end of the dagger under his fore and middle fingers, wounding them. Blood oozed out and fell down on Naruto's back muscles and began to slide down like red strings on children's gifts.
"I don't remember anything," Naruto spoke in sadness, not feeling anything on his back—the chase he gave to his scrambled thoughts had put a limitation on his senses.
Sasuke knelt down and moved his blood-coated fingers on Naruto's back: quickly, he made symbols along Naruto's spine to create a Fuin-Jutsu seal that he had learnt from Karin. It was passed down only to her family; even Kushina would not know anything of it mechanisms. When he completed the seal, he saw Naruto's spine tremble in a ghoulish manner under the fingertips.
Naruto winced from pain and gripped the chains harder that bound both his arms to the wall; but the pain ended and quietly retreated back to whence it came. His grip slackened, and he uncurled his fingers and felt a burning sensation from the metal that abraded his wrists from the struggle. He exhaled loudly as though a burden had been lifted from his mind and raised his eyes to look up when Sasuke got to his feet.
"Don't leave the house unless I say so," Sasuke said firmly and unlocked the chains. They clanked to the ground, and Naruto felt freer than ever! Feeling the sweetness of freedom, he hastily got to his feet only to succumb to his weakness. He fell forward, but Sasuke grabbed him. "Relax, you're still weak."
"You didn't have to tie me up like that. I would never attack you. You know that!" Naruto said, sounding tired.
"You don't even trust your memories. Was it really wise to leave you to your own devices?" Sasuke asked, but no reply came from Naruto. Sasuke curled his arm around Naruto's waist and then placed Naruto's limp arm over his own shoulder. Naruto weighed lighter than last time; he did not know what to think. He brushed the thought aside and opened the door to get out of the suffocating cell.
Sasuke walked through the corridors of the prison in the Uchiha manor. He was dragging Naruto along; he could barely move his feet. Quietly, he mounted the stairs and walked through the garden and listened to Naruto puff and blow close to his ear. "Almost there," he assured him and opened a sturdy-looking door to a beautiful room.
Naruto's tired eyes took comfort inside the walls of the luxurious room. He was so happy to finally get out of the cell where Sasuke sat with him for ten straight hours. Sasuke gave the door a slight push with his foot, and it closed behind him. "Drink that," he said and nodded towards a bowl full of green-ish liquid. He loosened his grip and Naruto fell back on the bed.
"What's that?" Naruto asked, sat up, and picked up the bowl. Then he smelt it and made an awful face.
"It's a medicine mixed with some nutrients. Take it. It'll ease your fever, and hopefully, put you to sleep," he said, watching as Naruto frowned childishly.
"Your hospitality stinks!" he said and drank all of it at a draught.
"Just shut up and go to sleep." Sasuke snatched the bowl from Naruto's hand, as if he was an unruly child who would break it, and placed it back on the table. "You need rest. I'll lock the door from outside, so no use banging on the walls like a fool."
"Do you want me to die in here?" Naruto asked incredulously as if killing him was actually a prospect. "I haven't eaten anything since Sage knows when. I feel this—this thing in my stomach."
"What? Gas?" Sasuke shot back, getting a little irritated.
"You asshole! You've got no heart. Sometimes, I feel like you're this soulless armour-decoration with such ridiculous good looks. I mean, look at you—how's that even fair? Take away your looks, your money, and those fancy little coins you keep under your Sage-damned bed, what's left? I wonder what all the women see in you!" he said loudly and pulled the sheets over himself and shook them vehemently as if the debate was won.
"Are you done?" Sasuke asked and folded his arms.
"Yes, I'm done," Naruto returned and made a scholarly face.
"Good, because you sound like someone's bickering wife who's on the verge of taking that one-way trip out of the house—for good," Sasuke said and walked out of the room, not sticking around to listen to Naruto's uncultured insults which he started reeling off after, "yeah, your wife, asshole!" At least, he was himself again—even if it was irritating.
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Fire was hot in the hearth and the room, warm. Hinata shuddered when a loud sound woke her up. She closed her eyes and listened to the rain drumming on the roof. Slowly, she opened her eyes again and lifted up her arms. Her burnt arm was not hurting anymore; it was swathed in fresh bandages. Yuu must have changed them again.
Hinata slept through the whole day and had not seen Sasuke in her few moments of consciousness. Lost in thought, she touched the bandage and tried to pull it away to look at her skin. "Don't do that," came Sasuke's voice from behind the bleak blacks in the room.
She jerked her head in that direction and found Sasuke sitting on the chair with an office scroll in his hand. "If you remove it, it'll start to itch and hurt. Then you'll complain in your sleep again. And it might even leave a mark. I'm sure you wouldn't want that?" Sasuke asked in a manner as though the whole thing was so obvious to her.
"I-I was just—" she began absentmindedly, watching Sasuke as he placed the scroll on the table and walked up to her bed, "—I wanted to look." Her eyes did not leave Sasuke's face as he sat down on the bed and grabbed her arm.
He turned it a little. "Does it hurt?" he asked and brushed his finger on the bandage. Hinata shook her head slightly and ran her eyes over the bandage and then looked from Sasuke's hand to his face. He looked exhausted. His brow was marked with thin frown lines—something was bothering him.
He turned her arm again—gently this time. When he got no reaction from her, he let her pull it back. "It should be fully healed by tomorrow," he said and moved his fingers across the delicate seams in the kakebuton, without a reason. "I'll ask Neji to stay with you in your house after you recover . . . if being alone still scares you. You still don't want to tell me what happened?"
"I d-don't remember," she lied again and narrowed her lying eyes away. Sasuke saw through her untruthfulness, but he chose not to make her realise it. It was in his interests, after all. He wanted to see how far she would bury this inside her soul to keep her pride—how long she would keep this little act up. Her lies were poor. It was a game best left to the professionals, but so far, he was quite impressed with her persistence.
"If you say so," he said and hid a smile as he turned his head away and pretended to be distracted by the rain.
Hinata put her hand on his, grabbing his attention. "But I-I'm telling you the truth. You don't believe me?" she asked, her hand trembling over his. There was desperation in her voice. She tried to mask it, but it was easy for him to sniff it out.
"I didn't say you were lying," he paused and narrowed his eyes on her, "you're a terrible liar. It just depends on how well you lie. The rest is your business—your concern. The better you hide your lies, the more successful your life will be. If you want to leave Konoha, of course. Am I not right, Hinata?" He still wore that sly smile on his face that was almost impassive save for a ghostly emotion scurrying across his features.
"W-What?" Hinata barely managed, taken aback by his honesty. How true he was. A shocked expression froze on her white face, and her fingers dug into the skin of his hand. Sasuke's meaningful gaze did not flit from her face to his hand. He held it, overpowering the weak strength of her gaze with his own; it conquered hers, made her eyes lose the intensity of her emotions till they blinked and gladly admitted defeat.
Hinata lowered her eyes and gazed at her bosom. Sweat droplets had burst from the pores there. They were cool on her skin, nothing but reminders of fear. For a few moments, they remained silent. The rain outside pressed against the wooden walls and filled the room with many sounds from outside; but they were still weak, unable to fully make it through the walls to disturb her thoughts.
"You seem ashamed. I don't know what's there to be ashamed of. You want freedom. I can understand. Where's the harm in that? We all want to be free," Sasuke said in a voice that exhorted her to give him a true answer, and she played right into his hands!
Hinata raised her eyes and tried hard not to expose herself completely before him. She had willingly ruined a part of her honour by being intimate with him—he did not need to know everything. But how much would I be able to hide? she thought as she saw her unmasked face in Sasuke's clearest eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," she said after a long and thoughtful intake of breath.
"All right," he said, his voice breathy, knowing that his suspicions about her were true. He was satisfied with her answer for now. With so little, she had told him so much. "You don't want to talk. It's your life, but I'm glad—because if you keep lying like this, you might make it." He smiled and leant down to brush his lips against hers.
Blood rushed to Hinata's face when she felt Sasuke's tongue slip into her mouth. She did not protest for, after the painful ordeal, this felt tender and sweet. She wanted to make love to him again, even if it was after a lie—a lie she hid behind the honesty she had always known in life. She moved her arm and buried her hand in his hair, pulling him closer till his skin touched hers, setting it alight on delightful fire.
Suddenly, he pulled back and turned his head away. She thought he would lean back down, but he stood up and walked away. He stopped by the door and spoke without turning around fully: "you wouldn't need anything, but my room is at the end of the corridor. I'd recommend that you use that bell instead. I'm tired." Then he walked out of the room and left her desire burning.
Hinata's lower lip trembled. It ached between her legs. She did not think he would tease her like this tonight—tonight of all the nights when she truly needed him to soothe her pain. "It isn't fair," she whispered to herself and trembled with a burning shame of need. She breathed in and out loudly and looked up at the ceiling and parted her lips to say the same words all over again: "it isn't fair . . . "
She was being obdurate, but she did not care. How easy it was for them to get pleasure when they needed it? She was the one that was mocked—always. Selfish—all of them! She grunted and sensed her desire bother her entire body. With slowness, she snaked her fingers down and brushed them gently on her stomach. Then she slipped them under the smooth fabric of the underwear and felt her fingers get tangled in the mass of black curls. She did not stop and moved them between her lips and touched the engorged bud that did not hide her arousal.
Hinata's eyes trembled and twitched as she felt that familiar rhythm invade her body like a mad tormentor. It was strange, and when she moved her finger around her entrance, her desire for him came rushing back. It was as though he was the only thing familiar to her senses now: she could not even elicit pleasure out of her own body without words from his thoughts mocking her mind and without vibrations from his touch ruining her veins.
Hinata did not stop—she could not. She slipped a finger inside and sensed her body respond to her own inexperienced touch, fooled that it was that familiar lover who had come back to play again! She arched her back and moved her warm finger slowly and steadily at a pace that always delighted her. Her mouth opened in a needy moan, red and swollen with a pleasure that was the next best thing for her . . . and her body.
The delightful scent of her arousal went in vapours up his nostrils. His ears stood up and wriggled when her heavy breaths could not be overpowered by rain. They were too keen for these distractions. Its head rose in him, a stubborn tick, rousing with her sounds and her scents. It goaded him on again, and that hatred came back with full force to haunt his daemon!
Naruto's eyes opened on their own as if a clock chimed right next to him—that beckoned him for his morning rituals. His face trembled, and he kept blinking his eyes without a reason, already feeling lost amidst the heaviness that had settled itself firmly upon his mind. He was lost again, and the only desire that crawled up to his lips as a breathy sigh was that disgust that they all abandoned him for better things: "I hate you . . . "
He rose from his bed, falling down on his knees but getting back up the next second. His back burnt as the daemon inside could not make it completely past the powerful barrier; so it itched and ached deep under his spine, a nasty burn; but it found his eyes and glowed like a menace through them. The more she sighed, the more restless he got till he could not quite contain it. He launched himself at the door and slammed his fists against it as many times as it took to break it apart. He ran outside into the open, guided by her pieces that existed in the air.
The loud noise of the heavy door being broken into pieces did not carry itself over to anyone, not even Sasuke who slept peacefully in his bed, exhausted from the day's ordeal. The rain drowned out Hinata's sighs and Naruto's grunts whilst he stood under the downpour, looking at her please herself without any shame. She could not even hear herself when thunder struck, opening her jaws wide to let out a heated breath, but he could—so clearly that it felt as if this spectacle was created just to taunt and humiliate him. A dead-last was always a dead-last!
She turned her head and blinked in her moment of passion; she found darkness in the room as the flames in the hearth had burnt themselves out. Even the flame on the wick inside the lantern was out, leaving lines of smoke rising upwards into the darkness. She clenched at the kakebuton tighter when her eyes saw two reds glowing beyond the grey smoke. The window was too tiny for any person to enter: Sasuke had chosen this room for her safety.
Then Hinata saw a hand make its way in, the same hand that was cruel to her that day, and she found herself running out of the room. She turned the corner and ran towards the room at the far end of the corridor. Naruto was here, and this time, he would kill her! She could not fight him last time, and she did not expect anything miraculous from herself this time; so she ran, looking behind as though the man had somehow moved through the walls and was chasing her down through the misty corridors of the big house now.
Whites shone through the crisscrossing lattices and stamped the walls black with their patterns in the corridor as lightning flashed in the night, but that did not halt her steps. She stopped by Sasuke's door but did not knock. She opened the door and thanked her lucky stars that he had not locked it from the inside. His room was warm, and the fire in the hearth was not as cruel here as it was to her in the other room. The whole room glowed with a beautiful and robust red light that pushed back the shadows into nooks and corners. There they loomed, standing tall behind the drawers and futon.
Gently, Hinata closed the door behind her when her eyes found Sasuke sleeping peacefully. It was strange for the clever shinobi to be so helpless in sleep. His face bore the signs of his calm whilst he slept without a care—not worried about what monster lay in wait beyond his door. She kept standing still, not knowing what to do. She moved her lips but nothing came out—like a thief in the night, fear stole her voice!
She took a few steps and gazed around in fear. Then she leant down and fearfully climbed onto his futon and stole glances at the closed door. Stretching her hand, she moved her fingers to touch his face to wake him up. She had not quite touched the tips of the hair lying on Sasuke's brow when he threw her onto her back and grabbed her by the throat, with his dagger's tip digging into her skin. He had a fierce, resolute look on his face, and his eyes burnt with a need to take a life.
He breathed heavily and suddenly that look disappeared from his face. His grip slackened, and he pulled his hand back. Released from his crushing grip, Hinata drew in a loud breath and sensed her heart beat at the right pace again. He shoved the dagger back into his pocket and backed away, furious. "Are you mad?" he hissed and bent forward to meet her gaze. "I could've killed you! I told you to knock, didn't I? Don't you pay attention, Hinata?"
Hinata curled her fingers around her throat and coughed. "I-I was—" she fumbled with words, unable to give voice to her thoughts.
Sasuke rubbed his temple, annoyed by her foray into his room. "Why are you here?" he asked and moved back to rest his back against the wall. He was irritated by her audacity; never had any woman had the pleasure to sit on his futon. If he wanted lovers, he indulged them in the guestrooms. This was his private place; no one was allowed in here other than his beloved brother and a few servants.
"I-I saw—" Hinata's voice trembled as she struggled to sit upright.
"Are you going to say something, or will you waste my whole night with your half-completed—"
"I saw someone outside my window!" she cut him off and pointed a trembling finger at his door as if he could actually see through the wood, without his Sharingan. "Out in the rain—next to my window. Big, y-yellow eyes. I didn't know what to do, so I came here." She hugged herself and bowed her head to hide her tear-filled eyes.
Sasuke's Sharingan came out without his call. This isn't good, he thought, not sharing his secret with Hinata. He grabbed his sword that was propped against the side-table and got out of the futon. "Stay here and don't come out. You understand me?" he said with a heavy accent, looking back at her.
Hinata moved on the futon and twisted her back a little to look at him. She wanted to stop him, but she knew that only the Sharingan was known to tame the wildest of beasts. She crawled back and pulled the kakebuton over herself when she heard Sasuke lock the door from outside. She pulled up the kakebuton as if it might hide her from Naruto and his wrath. (It was an innocent reaction.)
Sasuke used Body-Flicker to reach the door before his heart could fully beat once. He stopped, turned his eyes around, and swept his gaze wide. He could see no aura! Yuu was standing by the door, his face enveloped by a film of water and fear. "Sasuke-Sama, he's—" he broke off, not knowing how to explain this.
Sasuke's lip twitched and a look of murderous rage flashed into his eyes, but he did not say anything. It was not as if it was Yuu's fault . . . he turned around and walked out of the narrow corridor. He stood still and tried to pick up any sound, any trace of Naruto, but he was gone; he had disappeared into the arms of night! He stepped out into the rain, letting it strike his body. "I need Karin," he whispered to himself, and the tasteless rainwater slipped into his mouth. He gulped it down and looked around with an overbearing sense of futility to find something when he knew that Naruto was lost for the night.
He stood there quietly for several seconds and then finally spoke, "clean up that mess. Nii-Sama will be angry with me if he found out. I don't want it around in the morning." Then he left Yuu standing under the rain.
When Sasuke unlocked the door and stepped back into the room, he found Hinata sitting behind a wall of kakebuton, with just her eyes visible above her hands. She lowered the kakebuton when she saw Sasuke lock the door from inside. "You had a bad dream. There was nothing outside," he said calmly and walked to the futon. Then he placed his sword next to the side-table and climbed into his futon again, not caring that his clothes were dripping wet.
"But I—" she stopped, not sure whether she really did see Naruto or was it just a figment of her imagination.
"You know what, Hinata, I'm too exhausted to pander to your foolish whims at this hour of the night. Just sleep here for the night. Happy?" he said in a harsh, cutting voice and pulled the kakebuton over himself.
Hinata was too relieved to say anything. Slowly, she rested her back on the futon and pulled at the quilt a little. Sasuke stirred slightly and then placed his arm on his forehead. It did not take him long to fall back asleep. Hinata, too, closed her eyes, comforted by the fact that she was not alone and at anyone's mercy tonight. The thought gave her peace and she fell asleep, dreaming of something beautiful for the first time in five long years . . .
# # # # # #
Sakura was confused, her eyes surveying Naruto who was sopping wet, standing on her doorstep. "Naruto, you—" she began but stopped when Naruto let himself in. She did not say anything and closed the door behind him. The sky roared and rumbled and shook the windows a second later.
The lights in her apartment were out save a few candles waning into a pool of wax on the shelves. It happened quite often when heavy rains hit Konoha. It was a minor problem, but a problem nonetheless. It was a good thing that their village's security was compensated by a thick chakra barrier; otherwise, what would happen during complete blackouts? With the bandits running amok, it was not that hard to guess.
Tsunade's reign was going along smoothly. Problems had dwindled ever since she took over the Kage Seat after Hiruzen's death a couple of years ago. Maybe she would take this matter into consideration, but the Chūnin Examinations' rules overhaul came first. The thoughts about swaying Tsunade were not on her mind—not now. Her eyes deepened into grass greens when the last candle in the room melted away completely and cast a thick shadow over them.
She kept looking at Naruto whose back was turned to her. He was silent and breathed heavily behind the near-impenetrable wall of greyness between them. "Do you need something to drink?" she asked and eased towards him slowly as if she would frighten him if she moved any faster.
When no reply came, she turned to face him and grabbed his face in her hands. "What's wrong?" she asked in a lover's voice this time. "You look tired. You've been running again?" She skittered her hand through his messy hair, still not getting any response from him.
Naruto wheezed in response as if her words hurt him. He lifted his head and eyes, and an expression of brutishness came into his countenance. There was a delightful curl of pleasure in his lips that made her shudder with a realisation. He did not give her even a moment to talk him out of it this time and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pushed her into the room that was so familiar to him.
Sakura staggered back and fell down on the floor; she sensed the aggression and force behind his movements. It was better to stay quiet and bear through this; so she raised herself to her feet when she saw Naruto approach her with slow deliberate steps; a hunger had come over his face like a heavy veil. He discarded his wet jacket, grabbed a fistful of Sakura's pink hair, and pulled her in to claim her lips in a kiss that was rough.
Naruto's teeth closed on her lower lip, bleeding it. There was no gentleness in his touch, but the heat that radiated from his body seduced the human part of her, and she gave herself over to his harsh embraces. It was not as though Sasuke ever indulged her this way—it was a painful thought in the heat of the moment. It was better to forget and pretend Naruto was him. She did not protest when he grabbed her blouse and tore it apart and then reached down and did the same to her skirt and cotton underwear.
She stood naked in his arms, letting him paw her as he wished. He pushed her back on the bed and crushed her with his weight. His lips—that had abandoned the gentleness of previous nights—nipped at her bosom and left marks on her body. He broke her flesh as he pulled at the skin of her taut stomach, his long canine teeth digging into her inner thighs, wrenching out sobs of pain and pleasure; but it was all right—she would let him love her; this was what he wanted, and this was what she wanted him to do; and that was what she needed for this pretend-play.
She could pretend it was him who had come to play with her like this if she closed her eyes—it was just a little game! She arched her back and pushed her genitals into his face when he lowered his face between her legs to sniff at her scent. It delighted him that she was always willing and ready for him—that she was selfless for him. Hinata was cruel and cold: she pleasured herself for someone else! He was a boy like this—just a little boy!
He exhaled and licked the mucus that clung to her slit. Yes, her body was always pliant under his touch, a touch Hinata rejected. He lifted his head and looked into her misty, murky-green eyes. They invited him to please himself and satisfy his building hunger. So he did. He pressed his body on top of hers and took her harshly, entering her over and over again with thrusts that made her cry out.
When her channel did not allow him to go deep enough, he flipped her over onto her knees and took her from behind. It pleased him how she struggled and wept into the pillow, feeling pressure between her legs as he went in deep and hard, pushing her forward on the bed. Sakura clenched her fingers and moved her knees so wide apart till her child-like breasts got squashed against the mattress. Turning her head, she peered through her sweat-coated hair that fell over her eyes, but she could not see Naruto clearly beyond the mist that had come across her gaze.
His hands slipped on her sweaty back and felt the muscles under her lovely skin convulse with pleasure. It had been few nights since he last felt pleasure like this. It was not as though Hinata was ever willing to embrace and love him. How he had begun to resent her make-believe goodness and her nun-like virtue that he had always loathed. The thing that dominated him smiled at his thoughts, and he increased his pace and elicited loud grunts from her.
Naruto was still not satisfied. He needed more—more pleasure, more lust, more warmth from her body. It was still not enough to consume him and satisfy his passions. So he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back onto his lap and pushed upwards. It felt amazing how he speared her completely in this manner and felt the crushing depths of her walls—so warm and slick. These were the pleasures only Sakura could give him.
He placed his hand against her forehead and pulled her head back onto his shoulder; then he leant in to whisper into her ear as he slowed down his pace, "Sakura-Chan, you wouldn't hurt me, right?" he hissed, bit down on her shoulder, held her head in place when she screamed and clenched her walls tighter and tighter.
At that moment, a thought crossed his mind: how much could she have squeezed him had he wrung her throat? He smiled and kept up his pace and enjoyed her body to his heart's content . . .
Night had yet to give into morning's easy seductions when Sakura got up from her bed and stood in front of the mirror. Her genitals ached. She would have to use medicine this time to heal. Naruto was never this harsh to her before. She brushed her fingers on the red marks on her breasts and a blue bruise on her shoulder. They would heal on their own, but she would never let Sasuke see them: they would become another weapon for his mockery. The Medic and would-be lover in her scorned the idea to bear them like a Fuin-Jutsu seal.
She turned her eyes to Naruto sleeping on his stomach. He had spent himself today and left his seed inside her; it was just another chore, another thing to clean up before she left for the office. She walked out of the room and felt the morning chill on her body that had exhausted itself and spent its heat for today.
When Sakura looked out the window, the first ray of sunlight burst open the night and created a balmy hue along the arc. Sighing, she lowered herself into the chair and opened the drawer. There it lay, the same white paper and the same black brush on it. She took it out and wrote down Naruto's behaviour; she did not add the unimportant details of the night. That would never concern him. All he wanted to know was that how far his daemon had come and consumed him.
A layer came across her eyes, and she stopped a sob that vibrated in her throat as she created, with her chakra, the Root symbol assigned to her on the end of the paper. The sparrow in the cage on the table bounced, eager to see her: it was time for it to fly back to its sanctuary and feed. She opened the cage, took it out, and slipped the paper she had just rolled into the tiny container tied about its ankle.
The bird struggled as Sakura approached the window; it knew how to find its home. She released it and it flew south. It would not be long before they knew how everything was coming along. When it flew away out of sight, she lost her will with it, too. "N-Naruto, I'm sorry," she whispered and sank down to the floor. Then she buried her face in her hands and wept . . .
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