I do not own Naruto.
Chapter 13
He was possessed and she—his possessor. He kissed her a dozen ways above the neck, bypassing modest first kisses, seizing her as if she were his seasoned lover. She attempted to keep up—and it was not enough. In a matter of seconds, he surmised how little she knew.
And then her neck was no longer a boundary his hands could not cross. His fingers slithered down and touched between her legs. She wore nothing under her delicate robe. She gasped but did not pull away—no, she held onto his shoulders as his fingers slid against her. His other hand pulled the tie of her robe—he made sure their eyes locked as she became completely bare. She did not stop him, eyes wide—filled with anxiety—filled with desire.
He was walking forward, guiding her back until the rear of her knees hit the sofa that would soon after plague their dreams—and she was falling. But she was not alone. He was tethered to her, pulling at his own clothing—mouth never far from hers.
He took and took and she did not stop him—when she cried and bled, he did not cease but his kisses became sweeter, gentler in nature as it was made known to him how innocent she really was. Yes, he continued. He tasted and turned her, he ground into her depths and basked in her complete submission to his every endeavor.
Kakashi stepped out of the Nami hospital room and closed the door.
"Thank you, Tsunami-san."
Inari's mother, Tazuna's daughter, gave a small bow in the hallway. She had taken a nursing position at the hospital. Made sense—Kakashi rationalized. She had competently tended to his health all those years ago, when team seven had been new and the Great Naruto Bridge had yet to be finished. Undoubtedly the small island had changed team seven—but it had changed her family too.
Tsunami smiled. "Musicians brought him and the young woman this afternoon—but I'm guessing you figured that out on your own, Kakashi-sensei." She furrowed her brows. "The doctors say the infection is being caused by a poison. Our antidotes are only slowing down the…inevitable. They say."
He nodded. "I'll be sending for Sakura. She's become an accomplished medic." The hint of pride was unmistakable.
Tsunami eyes twinkled. "In the medical community, I've heard stories about the Godaime Hokage's protégée. How is that girl? Back then, she'd been so smitten with the serious one. Sasuke, was his name."
Kakashi half smiled at the memories. "Some things never change."
She chuckled lightly and then her cheeks darkened a shade. "You have changed."
"How so?" He leaned against the door, crossing his arms. It had been seven years, after all. And it was not like he was in a hurry to butt heads with Ayame again. She drove him wild, and he probably enjoyed it too much. She would hopefully be asleep by the time he returned.
"You certainly weren't the Hokage or," she added cleverly, "a married man." When Tsunami housed his recovery after the fight against Zabuza and Haku, he had certainly not been married nor the Hokage and she'd recently been widowed.
Kakashi rose a brow. "You heard."
She gave an offhanded wave, swishing away the conversation topic and the old memories. "I'm sure the entire shinobi world has heard. Sensei, it's late. You go on with whatever you're doing in Nami." She smiled kindly, personality the same as before: a decent person that'd been through too much loss yet strong enough to overcome. "I'll let the doctor know to expect a medic from Konoha. Two days?"
"One."
She nodded despite her surprise and turned, hips swinging as she walked away. She called over her shoulder, "You should stop by sometime for dinner. Otousan and Inari-chan would love to see you."
"Ah."
Kakashi returned to the inn later that night. He stopped by the front desk and made a quick telephone call to Tsunade (great inventions). Sakura was on her way.
Unfortunately, the fevered man had lost consciousness. Upon further inspection of his decaying arm, Kakashi confirmed the tattoo was the same summoning mark as Tanako Raiden's. Kakashi had been stealthy, for the traveling girl who'd been glued to the man in the wagon slept at his bedside.
Thinking of Haruhi-san, Kakashi wondered if the girl was part of the caravan at all.
Entering the white seashell room, he noticed the fort in the middle of the bed had expanded. Two long pillows lay between him and his bride. His gaze narrowed, recollecting the afternoon.
As much of a pain in the neck as she was, he could not say he didn't enjoy when she got riled up. He was the fool, he knew. How often would he continue to forget himself around her? At least, Kakashi was relieved she treated him as a man and not a kage. Cold formality did not suit her or satisfy him.
Death and life are in the power of the tongue and his words last night had not brought much life to their delicate relationship. His intention had been innocent in that he only wanted to know her stance on such things but the timing…
Kakashi showered and went to rest on his side of the fort in boxer briefs. It was not as if she would see him. Spring was a synonym for summer in Nami and he would be awake in a few hours for his usual run. Arms behind his head and body above the covers, he stared at the opposite wall composed of curtains. Curious, he got up to pull them open and was pleased to find the entire wall was also glass, as the living area.
Tsunade chose well. It was a sight. She must have traveled through here many times for the innkeepers to be so fond of her or for Tsunade herself to confide in them.
He was sure the Godaime knew of Ayame's condition and was exacerbating the situation—getting back at him for stepping out. He did not blame her. It was a tactic he used on a younger team seven, impressing upon them the responsibility of circumstances they had brought on themselves. If Sakura ignored Naruto, Kakashi would ignore Sakura's incessant questions. If Sasuke strategized without the team, Kakashi would not include him in plans—if Naruto attacked without thinking, then he would find himself too bruised to train the next day.
They had been so cute back then.
Kakashi sighed, lying on the bed as before. He glanced at Ayame. Despite their current estrangement, he liked this. It had been over twenty-five years since he shared a home with anyone—and now the privilege would be privately his, always. And never had anyone shared his bed so permanently as he hoped this woman would.
Back towards him, the light settled low on her hips. Her night shirt, a pastel green, rode up mid back to expose creamy flesh. He itched to touch her, to have her again but—he knew she would not. Before, he had been so sure she wanted him. After realizing she did not, he thought she would only cry but then she attacked him. He did prefer the latter—especially above her habit of ignoring him.
But he did not want her thinking he was a barbarian.
He'd been mistaken. Traveling here, she was sweet and smiles all day. Eternally herself. She offered to massage him and looked so uncertain suddenly when he turned to her. He knew she was thinking of their situation, and it too was never far from his mind, so he kissed her. She ardently responded and he mistook her response for something else.
It wouldn't be the first time. However, this time she stopped him.
With that trail of thought, a familiar concern churned within his mind. Was her reaction in the tent the response she meant to have during that fateful encounter? Kakashi closed his eyes and brows pinched together, hoping that was not the case.
Ayame pressed her lips tightly shut when she stepped into the kitchen area. Kakashi and Fuko both looked from their late breakfast (room service was a magical thing). Her husband's brows creased in confusion and Fuko made a point of eating his breakfast faster, red bangs covering his downcast eyes.
Yugao, hair in a higher than usual ponytail, strode pass them to the refrigerator. The kunoichi wore high waisted shorts and a bikini top. "You should drink water before we head out, Ayame-sama," she suggested nonchalantly.
"Head out?" Kakashi said, eyes glued to his wife.
"Yes, sir. We're visiting the market for swimsuits. It seems the one our Daishukujo brought doesn't fit anymore—understandably. And since the first thing on the itinerary is the beach, she'll definitely need that."
"…"
Ayame could only blush as Yugao handed her a small glass of water, grinning at her. Ayame glanced at Kakashi. His gaze was directed at her legs. Self-consciously, she pulled the dress down. It snapped back into place above her mid-thigh. The baby blue number with miniature palm trees belonged to Yugao. With wide eyes, Ayame stared at the kunoichi in question.
Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
Ayame was sure the strapless dress was supposed to be a little longer, but her butt and thighs stretched too much of the bottom fabric. She wished Yugao hadn't done her hair into two braids. If she'd worn it down, she could use it to cover her cleavage.
It didn't really feel like revenge, despite Yugao's assurances. Ayame felt silly and very naked. Kunoichi dressed like this all the time, but Ayame did not. The dress wasn't constrictive but it hugged her form and did not hide the teeny swell of her belly.
Yugao said it was fine—that no one really knew them.
Ayame dared another glance at her husband. To her dawning understanding, he was annoyed.
Kakashi abruptly stood. He was wearing under armor with sweat at the collar and underarms, all the skin films in place. Fuko was dressed similarly. They had been gone when she awoke and throughout breakfast. Was it sparring—or maybe exercise? Kakashi's hair clung to his forehead and his arms glistened. Had they just arrived? Their breakfast was still steaming.
"I'm going too," Kakashi said. "Fuko, finish your breakfast."
Ayame scrunched her nose, trying to ignore the fact that she'd been checking him out. "But you're all sweaty."
"And you're half naked. Semantics."
Ayame smirked humorlessly. "Don't hold us back."
With the sharp comment, Ayame gulped down her water, dropped it by the sink and made her way towards the door with Yugao at her heels, hoping her feelings caught up with the smugness in her voice.
Ayame and Yugao fawned over fabrics and trinkets at kiosks throughout the beach town. Ayame did not like how Kakashi hovered. She did her best to ignore him, but he walked directly behind her to limit the view for any wondering eyes. And eyes were certainly wondering.
Kakashi knew this was Yugao's idea of retribution, and Yugao's dress, yet the kunoichi made sure to glare at males whose attention lingered too long. Oblivious, the Daishukujo continued to coo over pretty things. Once, after purchasing a white chiffon wrap, Yugao made a point of tying it around Ayame's waist and encouraged her to wear it. The two shinobi relaxed a little after that.
Honestly, there were other ways to perturb him without making them all uncomfortable. And then there were those braids.
She always looked younger in them, despite the mature dress—despite the telling curve of her abdomen. She was as much of an adult as he was, but he could not reconcile the fact that he'd taken a part of her when she had clearly not been ready—was still not ready. The tent incident had reminded him of that too clearly.
Would he think such things every time they fought? Every time her hair was braided?
A gleam to the right caught his attention. Kakashi automatically stepped up to the pet supple stand full of toys and treats. Ayame followed him and he glanced at her, curious.
She beamed at him, eyes twinkling as they had at all the other kiosks. "For your doggies," she whispered in awe and then her brows furrowed, probably remembering she had some sort of revenge plan with Yugao that involved little clothing and ignoring his existence.
He deducted she would turn and leave him, rectifying the small hiccup in the otherwise immaculate coup d'état. But suddenly, her right arm curled around his bicep and she leaned her side into him. Her attention and relentless smile were aimed at the vendor and the vendor alone. Kakashi turned, slowly, to look at the salesman as well.
"One of each doggie toy, please!" Ayame happily said, pressing closer into his arm. The salesman looked to Kakashi, surprised. There were over thirty different toys and each was at tourist pricing. Kakashi nodded—slowly.
Without second guessing the nod, the salesman quickly filled two bags and rang the register with an excessive smile, gaze zipping between the two of them.
Sweetly, Ayame added, "My husband will pay." Her cleavage grazed his skin, splitting at his elbow.
Kakashi reached into his pocket and produced the needed amount. As soon as the receipt was presented to him, Ayame detached herself and skipped towards another stand.
The salesman cleared his throat. "Lovely, your lady."
The salesman wisely kept his gaze forward and not on Ayame's flouncing backside. "Thank you," Kakashi said. He had no qualms about staring after Ayame himself.
It was not much later, walking down the street, that Yugao disappeared into the crowd to take the shopping bags to the inn. Ayame slowed her pace to walk beside him. And hold his hand.
The action was not new. They'd done it at the village, for appearances, but even when she had been upset she would not want to hold hands. And she was supposed to be upset now. They certainly had no appearances to keep up here.
He began to have an inkling of what she could be doing. But she was not the type—Yugao.
As soon as an explanation formulated in his head, without saying a word or looking to him, Ayame's hand traveled up his forearm and looped her elbow around his. Her other hand came around to elegantly wrap her fingers around his wrist. He remained silent.
Although he somewhat understood what she was up to, he did not know how to respond to it. He kept a casual pace as they continued to walk. She did not look to him but kept her gaze straight, humming, as if this was normal—as if she did not hold anything against him.
It was dry. His mouth.
"I'm hungry." She glanced up at him then, huge eyes framed with thick lashes. Despite the nonchalant, touchy-feely ploy, there was unmistakable red smacked across her cheeks. "The baby is hungry," she whispered, eyes fluttering away in more embarrassment. "And my feet hurt." For effect, her hand stroked her belly. It was so small, the convex swell of his child. He was seeing it for the first time.
"Hm," he said. "Let's get you something to eat."
She agreed quietly and continued to hold him as he stopped to speak to a few locals regarding a decent place to grab lunch. He ignored the way she rested her head on his shoulder as they walked—he ignored the caresses on his arm and the way she made sure to tell every passerby he spoke to that they were newlyweds.
As they sat at a table overlooking the ocean, she did not speak to him. But even as she looked towards the sea, the side of her small toe touched the side of his. Each time the server passed by them, Kakashi became the most interesting thing and she made a point of gazing at him and smiling. As soon as the server left, Ayame's gaze fell away to the ocean. But that prettily painted toe—it did not move. Kakashi chose not to comment.
On their way back to the inn, Ayame held his elbow. He tried, "Ayame—"
"—Maybe tomorrow I can buy some souvenirs for my nephews and Otousan."
Kakashi did not reply right away. "They will appreciate it."
She nodded and no more words were exchanged until they reached the inn.
Upon entering the rooms, Yugao grabbed Ayame from him, making sure to throw Kakashi a look on their way inside his room.
Fuko looked on from the couch as the women disappeared into the honeymooner's suite. "Ayame-sama seems to have found a faithful shinobi."
Kakashi followed his gaze. "It seems that way. How's your arm?"
Standing, Fuko smiled. "Better. Thank you for letting me rest."
"Yeah."
"Hey," Fuko offered a smile, reading the room. "A vacation for the Hokage is a vacation for me."
Kakashi smirked. "Let's hit the water. Those two will meet us soon."
And the two did. Kakashi appreciated the private beach, minus the employees that would come every so often to offer refreshments and snacks (much to Ayame's utter appreciation).
He sat back on a reclining chair, its attached colorful umbrella blocking the sun. With a half-smile, he watched Ayame's excitement bubble forth while burying Fuko. Kakashi was glad she was enjoying herself despite everything. Even Yugao, presently driving him crazy by making it her mission in life to scantily dress his wife, seemed content.
The kunoichi had been reluctant to return to the Black Ops and be the Daishukujo's keeper. But as Kakashi assumed, after serving Ayame for a few weeks, Yugao had become attached to the younger woman in the quiet manner Yugao became attached to others. Ichiraku Ayame was a lily among thorns. Her joyous nature was hard to ignore—especially when her nature looked a lot like Hayate's. Yugao's loyalty was clearly towards Ayame, as it should be.
Kakashi liked the idea of not doing paperwork for two weeks but being away from the village for luxurious reasons was strange to him. The most responsibility he had on this trip was protecting these three and keeping them safe from otherwise mundane occurrences, like bad bargaining.
Fuko jumped out of the sand and the women laughed as he shook like a dog and got sand on them. He ran towards the water as Yugao chased him until he decreed a race towards the rock formation a quarter of a mile into the ocean. Ayame waded on shore and rinsed off, cheering for Yugao. When the two Anbu began to spar out on the water, Ayame turned and made her way towards Kakashi.
An employee came up beside Kakashi's prone body with the ice cream cone she had ordered. Ayame thanked the young man kindly and happily started on the dessert.
She wore a florescent purple two piece, shamelessly revealing a barely formed belly (amongst other notable assets). The curve of his child. Instead of covered by a thin layer of palm trees, it was completely bare to him. She turned towards the shore but did not leave his side. She had tied ribbons at the end of her braids, applied an excessive amount of sunscreen on her nose, and adorned pink shades. She made quite the image holding a chocolate ice cream cone. She licked once, twice.
She promptly joined him on the chair by plopping down next to his thighs. Her sandals were just as florescent and frilly as her suit, shades as pink as her fingernails.
Kakashi smiled. "Good afternoon."
Never mind they had already spent three hours together out there. He remained reading the entire time. If he had to remove himself from the equation for the others to enjoy themselves, he did not mind.
"Hello." She was short with him but sat close, licking away. Perhaps her mood was easing up with all the snacks.
"I'm sorry about before."
He meant it. He did not like when she ignored him or when they fought. It reminded him of the time before—when he feared she would not marry him.
Ayame frowned and stared at her ice cream, debating what to make of his apology. Her shoulders drooped. She sighed, seemingly resigning herself to whatever she formulated in her thoughts. She held out the cone. "Want some?"
He held up a hand to take it from her, not willing to negate the possible peace offering.
"...Thank you."
She looked at him expectantly with a soft smile and he slowly brought the ice cream to his mouth. He could already smell the sugar. He took a bite and tried not to make a face at how sweet it was.
She turned her head in consideration. "You don't like sugary things."
He handed the cone back, drawing his tongue over his front teeth. He sucked at the sweetness that relentlessly clung to his gums. He felt himself swallowing even after the dairy had melted down his esophagus. He cleared his throat.
She bit into the cone, watching him. She smiled again. "Want some more?"
"No, thank you."
Was she trying to kill him? She shrugged and kept eating. Her free hand massaged her belly and he wondered if she knew she was doing it. He wanted to feel it too but considering his grand query of having a "physical relationship," perhaps it was best to keep his hands to himself.
He was fumbling in his sleep again.
On their wedding night too, she'd woken up to find her new husband mumbling in his sleep, hand rubbing at the center of his chest. Where his heart was.
Now he was doing it again. Ayame stared, enthralled with the sleeping man before her. Kakashi's brows were furrowed and the hand that rested on his chest would scratch every so often, as if he was trying to get something out.
And then, she could not believe, a liquid drop accumulated as the edge of one of his lashes and then slid down his face. It disappeared somewhere in his hairline. Her own eyes watered.
He was having a nightmare.
Kakashi, the man who had it all together, was crying in his sleep. She thought about Raiden and Haruhi and how much more difficult life was for some while others went through it with mediocre problems. Sure, Ayame had experienced her fair share of drama, especially living somewhere like Konoha. Her mother had died and her sister was not the best, but most of the problems Ayame currently had were her own fault. She knew that.
But she was not familiar with Kakashi's past. They did not know very much about each other, and what little she did know was built on village rumors. All of it was rather depressing but she did not know anything for certain.
Ayame decided to get closer to his sleeping body, heart aching for the man she loved. He had apologized at the beach but it was not enough—it would never be enough until he loved her honestly.
As stealthily as she could, she pushed her blanket down with her feet and began to crawl towards his side, dismantling the fort. All his trembling stopped. She leaned closer. Had the dream passed?
"Ayame."
She yelped, startled at the sound of his voice. His eyes were still closed.
"Kakashi-san?"
His opened his eyes and his head turned to face her.
"Is something wrong?" Ah. There it was.
"Uh, you were..." You were crying.
His gaze lowered and hers followed his line of sight.
When she demurely batted her eyelashes back up at him, and did not fix her shirt, Kakashi's brow furrowed.
He hoped it had all been in his head but it was not. She was doing it on purpose. He asked to have a physical relationship and she teased him—was teasing him.
His gaze fell again, taking in what she was not hiding. The camisole had been stretched low during the night, accentuating the tops of her swollen breasts. The translucent material did little to hide that her condition was changing her anatomy in preparation for a child. He was sure such a provocative sight had taken down better men.
And then she laid next to him. She was trembling as she reached for his covers—
Kakashi snapped into a sitting position. "What are you doing?"
She blushed madly but was not getting away. How far would she take the charade? "I thought maybe...we could..."
Kakashi gulped. The moment Tsunade said honeymoon he knew this could happen. They were married, and every part of her was enticing but he couldn't. Not as they currently were. He thought his apology had been well received at the beach but there was no way it was this well received.
Waking up to such behavior—how was he supposed to—the concept struck him so suddenly he felt dizzy with realization: they should have discussed sex and boundaries before they married.
"Ayame..."
"It's okay, Kakashi-san. We'll just sleep." Sleep…she wanted to sleep. Sleep was good.
Her painted fingernails sprawled on his chest and lightly applied pressure. Not knowing how to reply, he allowed himself to be pushed back. The warmth of her hand on his sternum stirred him and he regretted his lack of clothing.
When she dipped her legs under his covers, he did not stop her. Her braid came undone sometime during the night and she was as delectable as she had been all day.
He stayed exactly where she put him.
Ayame snuggled her nose into his shoulder and he did not move. His pillow was now their pillow.
Kakashi did not sleep that night. He was sure Ayame had meant to keep it simple and only lay next to him but once she fell into a deep sleep, she subconsciously altered her position. Not in an obnoxious way as a twelve year old Naruto would, but comfortably where her body curved neatly into his side.
She had one arm across his ribs and the other lay still between them. Her nose was no longer touching him but that was not the problem. The problem was her leg. Still on her side, her leg bent over his, knee resting on the middle of his thigh.
Her knee had not been as high five minutes ago and he feared the growing ascension.
"I don't mind taking you, Ayame."
She looked between Kakashi and the rock formation out in the water with great unsure, determining if one without the other was possible. Yugao and Fuko were tanning out back at the shore. She and he had been the only ones to swim out.
Kakashi simply stayed where he was, hands wading back and forth with the waves. He waited as she fought an internal battle with what seemed like great difficulty. She closed her eyes, as if finally accepting that she could not have the barrier reef without his help and so she paddled to him without a word, as if he should know what she wanted from him with only silence.
He sighed and climbed onto the beginning of the rocky slope that would lead them to the object of her curiosity. Yugao and Fuko discovered the rock formation earlier in the week, realizing it was not rock but a barrier reef. On the opposite side of it, they assured, was a community of colorful sea animals. Ayame had been so excited to see it for herself but she realized about two minutes ago she would not be able to swim over on her own, especially when it came to climbing over the reef.
Ayame reached for him and he easily pulled her up and out of the water. "Careful with the sea urchins," he said and she gasped, taking in the spiked creatures coating various pockets of the reef. He did not comment as she gripped his hand tightly. She stepped everywhere he did. Reaching the top, they began to step down on the other side of the reef. Her eyes widened at the waves softly lapping at the rocks below.
"I've got you."
He lowered them into the water and she clung to his forearms desperately.
"Deep water is kind of scary!" she said, trying to laugh it off. He could feel her body sway in the water but he remained as still as the reef, chakra keeping him balanced.
"Ohmygoshohmygosh," she repeated.
He was glad she did not say anything when he turned her to see the other side of the reef, hoping to relax her with the exotic view. Through the clear water, you could see the multicolor variety of coral and fish.
"Oh—it's beautiful."
Kakashi agreed. It was.
A giant manta ray passed by them and his brows raised when she spun around and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knees anchoring on his hips. Her breasts pressed against his collarbone as she released a whimper.
"It's alright," he assured. "Look at these little guys."
Focusing chakra to his feet, Kakashi walked through the water, sea occasionally lapping at their necks. He was glad it was not a windy day, for Ayame's sake. He'd never seen her so jumpy. He kept his arms securely around her.
As he had all week, he tried to ignore the excessive touching from Ayame's part and pointed out the names of a few fish he knew. She was genuinely curious and praised his knowledge but he could tell being in open waters, despite the beauty of the reef, frightened her. Especially when bigger fish zoomed by.
"We'll be okay here?" she asked again. It was not what she asked that made him hesitate to answer. It was how she did it. Her cheek pressed against his, lips grazing his earlobe.
"..."
"Sensei?" Her knees slid up his hips, locking her ankles around his waist.
For the first time, he felt the curve of his child press against the meeting of his ribs. He withdrew to stare at her.
"Don't punish me like this."
He should not have asked about sex as he had—fine. But enough was enough. She kept at it even though he apologized—with Yugao's clothing and the touching—and crawling by his side at night.
Ayame avoided eye contact and returned to holding his shoulders, cheek on cheek. She ignored his plea.
For the first time since she stormed into his office, demanding to know of Tanako Raiden's whereabouts, Kakashi felt anger towards her. She could not do this. A memory of her submitted to him flashed through his mind, her chin tipped back.
This would not end well. For a moment, he dismissed his adoration for her in pursuit of sweet retribution. She had made this week a very long one. And there was still another to go.
Kakashi's hand glided up between her shoulder blades to grab her neck, effectively holding her in place so he could force a kiss upon her lips.
She flinched against him but could not pull away. His tongue prodded her lips and when his hand gave a light squeeze at her neck, she gasped. Ayame inhaled sharply through her nose at the demanding kiss and stayed as still as she could.
He did not think she withheld from inexperience. She withheld because she was punishing him. Because perhaps she did not want him as he wanted her.
"Hmm," she moaned softly and hesitantly moved her lips against his. Her mind and heart fought him with vengeance, he knew, but her body could not. It was a consequence of having already formed a fleshly bond. And if it had been half as powerful for her as it had been for him, then she would succumb.
Dismissing her sudden reciprocity, his lips found the pulse of her neck and pressed a sweet kiss. She tasted of salt water and herself. He descended to the tendon that connected neck to shoulder. He ignored the hard tug of his hair and bit down, mindful of the force. The harder she pulled, the more flesh he rolled between his teeth, littering her collar with bruises. She whimpered when his mouth sought hers again in a searing kiss. She whispered his name into it and his heart ached for love of her.
His hooked a finger on the triangular fabric that covered one of her breasts. He pulled the fabric aside, his knuckle grazing her. His mouth descended, tongue rolling against her, his lips encircling her, pulling her in, savoring her with rapture. She moaned, thighs flexing around him.
"Kakashi-san—please wait!"
"Is this what you want?" He exposed her other breast.
"No!" she cried.
The moment the word left her lips, Kakashi removed his mouth. He dropped his forehead to the bruises running up and down her neck. They held on to one another behind the reef, breath labored as the ocean moved around them.
"Take me back." It was a command and he heeded it.
He wordlessly fixed her bikini top and walked through the water again. His anger only swelled when despite her rejection, she was still wrapped around him like a damned octopus.
Today she would stop this.
When he lifted them onto the reef, he wrapped an arm around her waist and briskly led her up and over. Instead of taking their time climbing down, he held her close and jumped onto two open parts of the reef. They were back in the water in no time. Before she gathered her bearings, he used chakra at his feet to walk briskly through the ocean's sand.
"Ka-Kakashi-san, I can do it on my own now—"
"We need to talk."
That shut her up but now her eyes were on him, wide and scared. She desperately began to look around and anywhere but at him.
Reaching the shore, Fuko and Yugao glanced at one another as the two breezed past them. Yugao made to follow but Kakashi gave her a cold look of his own. The female Anbu made no further move.
He held Ayame securely up the slope towards the private engawa. Arriving in front, she stopped walking, pulling him back when he aimed for the sliding doors to their private abode.
"We can't go in like this!" she said, pulling him towards the outdoor shower head.
Kakashi glimpsed at their legs, coated in sand. She placed her hand on his abs and positioned him under before she unceremoniously turned on the freezing water. He held his breath.
Noticing her sneer, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his chest. She yelped and battled against him.
"It's so cold!" she cried, forehead pressing against his chest. She tucked her hands between them, trying to protect any part of her from the cold stream of water. She could not fight his strength. Her palms rested over his ribs. After a pause, she slid them down above his trunks, fingers stroking his happy trail.
He sighed at her tenacity. Was the everlasting plan to rile him up and then coldly turn him down each time he gave in? Reaching around, he turned off the water. She looked up at him, hair dripping on the sides of her face.
His anger dissipated.
"I'm sorry, Ayame. You know I am. So...please don't do this. It's unfair to me."
She rested her forehead against him again and did not say anything, hands as they were. Kakashi was confused. What could she want? The scent of tears hit his nose and he frowned at the low sob she released.
"I love you."
Kakashi immediately responded, "I do, too."
She glanced up, eyes wide with disbelief. And he knew it was this. He lowered his forehead to hers.
"Of course I love you," he said softly.
He closed his eyes and allowed her to cry in his arms. He sighed again. This was what she wanted. My, how silly they both were.
"Sometimes you s-say things and th-they hurt m-my feelings!" She wept heavily. "And sometimes you-you don't say things you're supposed to and I get s-so mad."
He did not want to hurt her. "I did not think to say it."
It was true. He did not think to until that very moment. Because she said it. Kakashi knew she liked him (she had said it plenty of times) but he had not known how much. Even now, as they confessed, her love was newer than his.
"Since when?" she asked, desperate.
"..." It astonished him how difficult it was to look her in the eyes and answer.
"Since Pein? Is it true?"
He nodded, paying attention to her expression. She did not look happy.
She removed herself from his embrace. Her fingers constantly swiped at her cheeks, tears a nuisance. He stood there, not knowing what to do with his hands.
"Y-you knew I liked you and you didn't do anything!" Her face was red as she yelled at him. "You made me think the worse about myself when it could have been so simple. You l-loved me but instead of talking about it you chose to have sex! How could you do that? I never wanted to be that kind of woman! It would have been enough for me to stand by your side—" she couldn't get the words out fast enough— "I've had to lie to everyone I love! Why!"
He didn't know what to say. "There was the war—" he started but stopped himself.
He had nothing. He became Hokage and she was Teuchi's daughter who seemed happy working for her father and he did not want to intervene. But she would not like that answer. It would disappoint her further and he did not want to increase her hysteria.
When he did not answer, Ayame dropped her face into her hands and cried harder.
"It would have been enough for me to stand by your side."
His insincerity hurt her more than anything else. What could he say now? He hated to think it was too late. They were too wrapped up into each other's lives. Why was it so important for her to have such things explained?
"Give me time," she declared through her sniffles and his silence. She tried to smile reassuringly but it was pitiful. "I just need some time is all. And maybe we can work on us again."
Ah. So the charade would stop.
She began to turn but he gently encircled her dainty wrists, pulling her close, desiring the feel of her and she did not fight him. He leaned down and softly kissed her mouth.
"What we have now is enough," he said. They loved one another, after all was said and done. There was no need to dwell on what ifs. His lips nudged hers. "Please, don't be upset."
Her eyes gleamed with tears. "I can't help it—this is just like when Yuu—" She stopped herself from finishing her sentence, eyes closing in painful recollection. He let go of her.
Menrui Yuu.
She walked inside, leaving him properly ashamed. Kakashi rubbed his forehead. He made her recall a past heartache and it did not sit well with him. He did not want to be compared to another man but it was not as if he knew what he was being compared to.
Her past was getting in the way and he had not realized it.
He walked off, making sure to pass Yugao and Fuko. Ayame's absence by his side indicated that they go to her in proximity. He continued down the shore and deep into the waters, pass the reef and pass the colorful fish, deeper and deeper into the waves he swam.
Her hands trembled as she washed her hair, as she brushed wet knots away, as she tried to distract her mind and knit in the common area.
Ayame stared out into the open engawa towards the ocean, legs crossed on the couch. Yugao and Fuko were nowhere in sight but she was sure they were near. The sun was setting, oranges and pinks gleaming from behind the mountains and over the sea.
He finally said it. He admitted how much he cared, then and now. Why wasn't she satisfied? He would have took his love to the grave if she hadn't become pregnant.
He must have had his reasons for being so withdrawn, for ignoring her advances. But he...he had loved her and it hadn't been enough to chase her. What kind of love was that?
When Ayame loved, friends or family, she would do anything to keep them by her side. To let them know how much they mattered.
The books and the films all had it wrong. She thought of Yuu and Kakashi. When men fell in love, they ran away from women. At least women like Ayame. They ran and ran and didn't look back.
She watched as the sun continued to sink into the distant sea, a dissolving orange pill.
Her mind rationalized the unjust comparison. Yuu and Kakashi were different men, in different circumstances, and on utterly different paths. Whatever Yuu ran away from could not be the same thing that had Kakashi keep all his love to himself.
She knew that. But.
Tears slid down her cheeks and she put the knitting hoop to the side. She laid down, resting her head on a decorative seashell pillow, falling in and out of sleep. Her shaky hands fell to her little baby.
Would she also not be good enough for her daughter or son? Was there something wrong with her? Could she not be loved as she loved others? As she loved her sister Yumi and now Kakashi? What if she had the same response from the village?
Or was she being thickheaded because she was still upset about his terrible approach to intimacy? She wasn't sure. She was not used to these things.
Compared to Yuu and the friendship that had not been quite a friendship, Ayame had never loved like this. Or argued like this. It was too...intimate.
Everything Kakashi said struck her so personally, good or bad. It irrationally upset her or brought her joy without measure. She could not blame it on hormones. It was as if every glance and every second spent with Kakashi only made her love for him grow by leaps and bounds. Even angry the phenomenon happened.
Her half asleep state made her have dreams of colorful fish.
This week, she realized how responsive he was to her very presence. If she touched him, he'd glance at the point of contact. If she leaned in close, he sat up straighter. If she walked into a room, she'd have his full attention. She never noticed before. He loved her and she wished she had known sooner.
The way he spoke and moved and looked at her—the way he touched her, with such need—she would love him until her dying day and she knew she had already forgiven him.
What they had now was enough.
She would make this marriage work—she needed it to work.
He loved her now, in the present. He became angry when she taunted him all week with the gentleness a woman in love treats a man. Because he wanted it. Because he wanted her. And she threw it in his face.
Ayame suddenly felt great shame at her immature behavior, the colorful sea creatures becoming gray and dull. Her eyes blinked open at a darkening sky, eyelids heavy.
Upon entering through the glass sliding doors, Kakashi spotted his wife sleeping on the low couch. Her arms were sprawled above her, shirt risen. It left her midriff exposed to the night's chill. He slid the door closed.
After his swim he'd donned a shirt and took a walk through the town.
Ayame's face turned towards him with pouty lips, sniffling. She'd gone to sleep crying.
His feet carried him to her and he knelt. His eyes scanned the flesh of her throat down to her breasts, lower to the curve of his child and to the risen shorts on her thighs.
She called, "Kakashi-san?"
His gaze met her sleepy one. "Hey," he offered gently.
Her hand touched his cheek.
He said, "Let's get you to bed."
She sniffled some more. "I love you so much."
"I know."
Her eyes blinked closed and tears rolled out from beneath her lashes. "Don't be mad at me," she begged in a soft whisper. Her nimble fingers touched his chest and curled lightly around the fabric of his shirt.
"Ayame, I'm not. I just want to be with you."
Her fingers found his collar and pulled. He succumbed and climbed beside her. There was not much room but she, half asleep, pressed her back as close as she could into the couch and he lay beside her, facing her.
There was a momentary pause and then he moved, drawing her up half on his body. She cuddled onto his side, nose and mouth on his neck. His arms held her close. He indulged himself and lowered a hand to rest on her thigh. His wife was falling asleep in his arms. It was all he could think to want from that moment on.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
-Lord G.G. Byron, Stanza I of 'She Walks in Beauty'
