It is said that the best way to resist temptation is to surrender to it, and after three long days of churning Madara's offer in her head, Aino decided to heed the advice.
Bathing in the scent of her favorite fragrance oil, Aino was putting on the finishing touches to her hair. Since her attire was already so luxurious she had opted for a more traditional set of buns, brought together in a tight cluster and held in place with twin wooden pins. Yet even something so simple ended up being another too ambitious project of hers, which took an awful time to complete and forced her once again to hurry. It was also the first time she tried a crown piece, as those were brought into fashion by the Hokage's wife, Mito Uzumaki, when she moved in permanently in Konoha. Aino had purchased this smaller one made of tin, and tonight was a perfect opportunity to try it on.
With her hair now out of the way she lightly dusted her face with rice powder for smoothness and traced the shape of her eyes and eyebrows with charcoal paste. She pinched her cheeks to give them that rouge color, saving her last rose paste sheets to give her lips a subtle red tint. The finished look was simple, but with scarce make-up skills and little time left, extravagance was a dangerous bet.
Once the collar of her underwear robe adjusted to her nape she went for the ruby under layer of the kimono and slid it on, hiding the rough white weave with light see-through silk. The main layer weighed on her shoulders more and adjusting it to remove unwanted creases proved difficult, but she had to put in the extra care. A garment of this quality should be worn to perfection. She smoothed the overlay fabric at her stomach with a soft sash, covering the cord that held the whole thing in place, and adjusted her sleeves.
Now to the tricky part. To her relief, the obi belt wasn't as heavy or large as it appeared to be when in the box, meaning that she wouldn't have to ask for help to put it on and risk her little escapade to be discovered. It still took a bit of struggle to get the knot tight enough before reversing the whole thing to have it sit on her back. After a series of contortions to neat the ends up, it was finally laying comfortably on her stomach. Now came the moment of truth.
Facing the mirror at last, she was met with a stranger. Aino looked nothing like her usual self. She felt different, out of place. In front of her stood an elegant and poised woman, one people would address as madam or lady, and certainly not a seamstress from a humble clan.
Yet as her eyes grew accustomed to her reflection, she started noticing little things here and there. How the deep blue matched with her teal eyes, how the arabesques of the pattern seemed to hug her shoulders and back. To her surprise, her cheap accessories didn't clash with the luxurious nature of her clothing. It complimented it nicely, never obscuring it and didn't fall into an outrageous abundance. Beckoning from under the silk her body looked enticing, softly sculpted by the tight fit of the kimono. Her silly grin grew as it appeared that no matter the angle she looked from, her figure was graceful and called for delight. She was beautiful.
One glance past her shoulder made her swear under her breath. The hour of the Rat was dangerously close and tonight was not the time to test Madara's patience. No more admiring, it was time to go.
With infinite precaution she slid the door of her bedroom open and stepped outside in the corridor, holding the train of her garment up with one hand and her sandals in the other. At that hour, others were probably sleeping or at least in their rooms preparing for the night, so there were few risks of being caught. Well, if she was discreet enough. Following her past experiences with sneaking out she headed for the secluded storage facility of their compound, where they would usually store the raw materials coming from all kinds of faraway places. There she'd be able to exit through their delivery door unnoticed.
Under the cover of darkness and her woolen cape, she went on to cross the storage room on tippy toes, eyes on the lookout for anything that could stand on her way. It was a maze of shelves and drawers, all meticulously tagged and numbered, that Aino knew by heart thanks to spending countless hours there. Eloping through here was a child's play for her. She looked back at regular intervals, as one could never be too prudent.
She heard the crack of wood on her right, and assumed it was just the old shelves working the cooler temperatures. She continued on her way, until a faint light burst in front of her. "Aino?" A familiar voice called, which made her stop dead in her tracks at first, until she realized who it belonged to.
It was Haru, standing there in front of her. When he brought the oil lamp closer to his face to look at her, Aino's heart ached. The poor man looked drained, his features emaciated by the lack of rest. At his age and in this exhausted state she wondered how he was still standing.
"Haru! My uncle, what are you doing here at that hour? You should rest!" She said, her voice cracking with worry.
"It's my turn to do an inventory of our supplies. I thought I could finish before bedtime but it seems I'll be stuck there much longer. What about you, dearie? Why aren't you in your room?" He replied, cocking his head.
Aino felt like a little girl caught red handed. "Well I… I have something planned and-" Haru burst out in laughter and he gently grabbed his niece by the shoulder. "Ah Aino… No need to say anything. I've been there too ya know? Goin' with my buddies to meet the cute ladies."
The seamstress blinked at her uncle before bursting in laughter too. "Cute ladies, huh?"
She patted his back after catching her breath, soothed to see him still full of energy and… surprised to hear her dignified uncle was once a ladies' man. He rested his shaky hands on top of hers, holding them with the tenderness of a father. "Your secret is safe with me. Just try not to bring his wrath upon us, alright? His dojutsu may look incredible, but I'm sure it could bring devastation."
She backed off slightly at how casually he spoke her little secret out loud. "How… How do you know it's-"
"Who else would have the means to get you something so expensive? The Hokage is happily married, and the Hyuga don't court outside of their clan. The only option left is an Uchiha."
Of course someone like her uncle would pay special attention to the piece she was wearing. He was one of the masters of their crafts after all. Telling the origin and quality of a kimono as well as the hidden messages behind its colors and patterns were no challenge to him. Still to be discovered so easily left her speechless, even more so when she gauged how lucky she had been to stumble upon Haru and not someone else more hostile to her decisions.
The old man grinned as he gave her one more pat on the shoulder. "Judging by the amount of work still awaiting me I'll be on duty all night. Take care of yourself and be back on time, or else I won't be able to cover for you."
"Understood. Thank you so much and please don't work yourself out beyond reason." She said, holding his hand tenderly.
The old man nodded then waved goodbye as he walked away, the light of his lamp dimming with each step. Aino lost no further time and headed outside hastily, knowing she was probably already late. She hoped that Madara wouldn't be too displeased.
The cold wind blew around her in vigorous intervals and Aino rejoiced to have a warm layer on. The late autumn evening was peaceful but humid after the rainy day, causing all the leaves on her path to stick to her sandals. It was the same path she had taken three days ago, yet in the dead of night it felt as if she was treading there for the first time. She marveled at how darkness falling upon the land could bring such calm to familiar sights. The flight of an owl directed her gaze to the trees as it ruffled the branches, hooting happily when it found a convenient spot. Past the river, no more explosions or shouting coming from the training grounds but the barely audible leaps and ruffles from rabbits, curious at the ever changing landscape. Still Aino pressed her walk. Night would come again along with its simple wonders, but what was awaiting her tonight would not.
After a couple of minutes and a few twisted ankles avoided, the Uchiha compound was finally standing in front of her. As she passed the entrance arch and approached the doors breathless, she noticed they were shut tight, without any guard to be seen. However, a faint light seemed to emanate from behind it.
Unsure if she should enter of her own initiative she tried knocking at first, then whispered for a presence after seconds of silence. The seamstress just had time to back away when the door opened to reveal a lady who appeared to have barely left childhood. She bowed her head down before gesturing Aino to follow her, all without uttering a word. Aino stepped in, closed the door behind her and instead of entering the front building like she did last time, her and the Uchiha lady followed a stone path leading to the patio. They passed by a set of chairs and an exterior fire place, which was still holding in incandescent embers, and entered a covered corridor which lead to most of the rooms of this aisle.
They walked some more silently, crossing another inner courtyard to reach a building separate from the aisle itself. The girl held the lamp at the doors and pushed them open for Aino to enter. Once both women inside, she closed the door and set the lamp down. Like the meeting room, this place had an entrance area in which guests were supposed to leave their shoes and exterior clothing. The lady helped Aino out of her cape, gathered her sandals and socks neatly to the corner, and eventually kneeled by the door as the tradition would prescribe. Everything was ready for Aino to proceed in. The seamstress breathed in and out deeply, stretching her neck and correcting her posture, before nodding to the young servant.
The latter slid the rice paper door and bowed down at her master, who was comfortably laid back on a pile of pillows with a scroll in hand. Aino held her hands in front of her, her head tilted in a small but respectful bow.
"Leave us, Kaori." He waved the girl off, not even bothering to look at her.
She watched as Kaori got up on her feet and left in a breeze, closing the paper door behind her. Now left by herself, Aino spared a moment to examine her surroundings while Madara was putting his things aside. This place appeared to be his private quarters. It looked like the Uchiha leader didn't like opulence according to the simplistic style all around, yet as minimal as it was it still retained some qualities. The living room area bathed in the soft light of oil lamps hanging from the walls, bright enough to see yet dim enough for the atmosphere to feel more… intimate. It also had its fireplace, burning vividly and diffusing its most welcome warmth. Aside from the fan crest, the living room was devoid of any fancy decorations. Against the walls a row of shelves stood containing a varied collection of books and scrolls, some of which yellowed and torn by time, as well as this strange object. It was shaped like a cello, yet didn't seem fit for playing music. Probably an Uchiha artifact, as guessed from the three tomoe painted on the front side. A glance to her right revealed a set of stairs and the kitchen area, from which a faint steam came from.
"I knew you'd come, Aino." A hint of haughtiness resounded in her ears. "Make yourself comfortable."
The table he was sitting at seemed to be the only luxurious piece of furniture there. It was one of those with a built in grilling area. To her surprise, it was garnished with all kinds of snacks, ranging from fresh fruits to biscuits and pastries filled with red bean paste. At the center, the tea was kept warm over hot pieces of charcoal. The warmth and soft smell of jasmine felt soothing as she took place at the table.
"You look stunning." He said in a sultry voice, reaching over to grab a handful of grapes.
The compliment brought a smile to her lips and warmth to her cheeks. "Thank you."
His black pupils kept devouring her as he chewed slowly on the juicy fruit, laying further back into a large pillow in the kind of epicurean stance fitted to his grand character and arrogant personality. He had traded his usual tunic for a simple short yukata and loose fitted pants and had left his hair unkempt. A comfortable attire compared to hers.
Aino allowed herself to relax onto her cushion as well, unfolding her legs to the side. "I thought you were the kind of man to go straight to the point." She said, grabbing her cup of tea.
"You are my guest, not a harlot. There's more I want from you than just your body."
To say he didn't stroke her ego this instant would have been a lie. "And do you often have guests coming to share more than a meal with you?"
"Sometimes." He admitted, his chin resting in his hand.
Of course a man like him could have all the women he wanted. "Who wouldn't enjoy a little company now that the times are peaceful, after all?" She added, giving a toast before bringing the cup to her lips.
The Uchiha also lifted his cup of sake before downing it, toasting as well to newfound peace. Peeking between two sips, Aino's gaze ran shamelessly on the shapes of his torso, loosely covered by his yukata. It ever so slowly cascaded down his chiseled chest and defined abdomen, taking in the delightful display. A spot of dark hair right above the waist of his trousers further ignited desire within her nether regions. She wanted more, but consoled herself for now. All would be hers in time. Following her host's lead she put down her cup and grabbed a pastry, giving in to her sweet tooth. As a guest, it was only natural to honor the efforts he, or rather his servants, had put into the making of this little feast.
"What are those?" Madara asked before she could take a bite.
He pointed a finger at the hand holding the delicious treat. Intrigued, she took a look herself. No surprises here. It looked as normal as it could be: calloused from working with rough fibers, with her nails as short and smooth as possible to avoid tearing her work and her dots etched in her skin.
"You mean the dots?" She asked a bit confused.
"Yeah." He grabbed her fingers to get a better look. "I saw the matriarch have them as well. Are they tattoos?"
She found herself also staring at the dots, in her case out of sweet nostalgia. There was a time in her life when her fingers were bare, but with the weight of nearly two decades she had forgotten how they looked without these tattoos. They were a part of her, of what made her identity, and no man she had been with before had ever noticed. Either his attention to detail was quite impressive, or the others never bothered. Both possibilities probably stood true there.
"Yes, they are. All women in our clan have them." Aino replied while he examined her fingers, even going as far as brushing the inked skin to see for himself that the dots were permanent. "Quite an unusual ornament." He added.
"It's not just ornamental." She chuckled. "We get them when we are deemed ready to further our traditions and no longer need basic training. That usually happens in the early years of womanhood."
He let go of her hand, the warmth of which she immediately missed. "So they serve as a proof of your rite of passage."
"There's that aspect too, I guess. Essentially it is thanks to these dots that I can channel chakra from my fingers and turn it into ultra thin threads. As far as I know, this is a faculty unique to our clan."
He scratched his jaw, thoughtful. "Sounds like a kind of hereditary fuinjutsu. Interesting..." She acquiesced while sipping more tea, even though she had no idea what that word he used meant. "So you use chakra in your crafts, but do you wield in other ways?" He asked, filling his plate with a assortment of fruits.
"As a kunoichi you mean? No. Not at all. However…"
Her lips turned to a smirk as she paused. On her lap her free hand twitched, the dots glowing a faint light. Long fingers traced patterns on the drapes of silk, which the Uchiha followed attentively. They finished their dance by clenching into a fist. As Aino lifted it away from her, Madara's arm got yanked into a pillow in a muted thud. It stayed there immobile, as if glued in place.
"I can use my chakra threads to do this." She proclaimed, finally biting into the tempting pastry.
The lord observed his near surroundings but found no visible trace of the threads. He looked at her and chuckled, not even trying to struggle. "Interesting technique, but near useless in combat."
"Who says I use it for fighting?" She replied in a seductive tone.
After a second of silence, Madara's chuckle deepened before his lips settled in a mischievous grin. With little to no effort he broke his arm free of her hold and used it to rest his upper body on the table. Aino caught the glimpse of the sleeve rolling down, revealing more toned muscle. If that arm couldn't later be restrained thanks to her technique, it could so easily pin her to the wall or bring her with force closer to him, holding her tight.
"I see…" He murmured, leaning in closer. "Don't you have a husband to practice this on?"
Her face turned dark for a second, which amused him. "To hell with husbands."
"How come?" He teased.
Aino sighed. "For some reason it is so that when a woman marries, she becomes the property of her husband's clan and must renounce her name and past life. I don't want that. I wanna live for myself and my clan's ancestral craft, and certainly not in the shadow of a man." She said, bitterness tainting every word.
Madara's smirk faded. "The shadow of a man." He muttered before reaching for the sake bottle again. "I can understand that sentiment."
"Besides, I'm not even an heir to our clan so why should I burden myself with more responsibilities than I already have? I'd rather spend my time perfecting my skills and enjoying the small pleasures of life."
He raised his eyebrow. "Is my company a small pleasure?"
"That will depend on you." She answered playfully.
With a grin drawn on her lips she finished the last bit of her pastry before setting her sights on that pile of sugar coated biscuits. "Speaking of which… Shouldn't you be already married and with heirs to the clan? I mean, you're a leader and an example to follow." She spoke with a mouth half full.
It took him a few seconds to answer. "I have other plans."
Her cheek came to rest in her hand in an inquisitive stance. "What kind of plans would keep you away from a loving wife?"
"That's absolutely none of your business."
Aino backed up at the stern tone of his voice. True they were in a more intimate setting, yet it still appeared that there were some rather sensitive subjects she should avoid from now on. "I'm sorry. I can be too curious sometimes." Her fingers fidgeted with nervousness as she bowed in apology.
Madara sighed. "No harm done." He said, a smile returning on his face.
The tension released from her body in the form of a long breath, yet she couldn't shake that awkward feeling regarding her mishap. They had such a nice conversation and would still have one if that mouth of hers didn't speak faster than reason. She grabbed another bean pastry out of nervousness and watched him gather fruits for himself.
The sight made an idea blossom in her mind, the kind of idea that could potentially settle the intimacy of the situation a bit more and lighten up the mood at the same time. Smiling devilishly she wiped her hands clean and stood up, the train of her kimono gathered out of her way in one hand. Madara's depthless eyes followed her slow steps and watched with content as she settled beside him, kneeling close enough for their arms to touch. A subtle fragrance of sandalwood titillated her nose with every breath she took, a smell that quickly became irresistibly addictive. If it wasn't for that idea of hers, and for the little appearances she tried to maintain, Aino would have already buried her face into his neck to ravel in his scent.
Without a word she grabbed a mandarin slice from his plate and held it in front of his mouth. "Here. Let me."
She earned a grin from the Uchiha before he bit into the soft pulp. Its juices dripped from his glistening lips in sweet drops, coating them even more when he eagerly claimed the rest of the slice. Her thumb went for that drizzle on his chin, hoping to catch some of that taste for herself.
A firm grip on her hand kept her from retrieving it. Out of the blue his sinful tongue lapped at the juices on her fingers, determined not to leave a single drop go to waste. She bit her lip to hold in a sight of pleasure. His mouth was soft and sticky on her skin, tickling it gently but enough to send shivers up her arm. Her breath was shallow when he let go of her hand. Aino remained still under his hungry gaze, astounded by how easily this man had just turned a plain gesture into such an intense moment out of pure seduction.
It was now his turn to take a grape and hold it in front of her. Pleased that her little game took off – and had seemingly erased off her little mishap - Aino gladly obliged and went for it with a wide grin, though at the very last moment Madara withdrew his hand, leaving his guest biting into thin air. He let out an amused laugh at her falling for his little deceit and the pouting that soon followed. She went for the fruit again, resting her hand on his strong shoulder to better lean over and claim what was hers. This time he didn't fool her. He allowed her plump lips to steal that one grape from his grasp.
Heat crawled under her skin, exacerbated by the many layers of her kimono. So far their exchange had been pleasant and she was more than flattered by all the small intentions he had for her, but this fire deep inside kept raging and pulsating hard and bright, demanding for relief. Her patience was running dry. The Uchiha was increasingly intoxicating the more she remained by his side.
A strong shiver ran up her spine when he placed a hand on the crook of her back. Through the thickness of the fabric his touch felt firm and determined as it travelled up to meet with her waist. His fingers wrapped around it in a secure grip, gently pulling her towards him. She struggled to keep her composure when she felt his warm breath brush against the crook of her neck.
"Roses…" He whispered to her ear, earning a content sigh from her. "Suits you…"
The moment his lips brushed against the sensitive skin she melted into his embrace. Her chin instinctively lifted, allowing him more room to play with. With a low growl Madara pushed the piece of kimono away to reveal her smooth shoulder and nibbled hungrily at the tender flesh, a grin spread on his face as he felt her trembling. She had given in so easily and he liked that. Aino whimpered as he licked his way up and down, stopping at well chosen spots to suck on them and kiss her some more. In her daze her hand found his hair and she pressed him closer, encouraging him to continue this sweet torture.
Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks. Aino groaned with disappointment while he chuckled at how flustered she had become because of him. "What a tease…" She panted, the frustration transpiring in her words.
Madara smirked at the hot mess of a woman beside him, his tongue gliding slowly on his wet mouth. "Am I to understand you want more?" He leaned closer. "Because if it's the case… I have a suggestion for you."
She threw him a questioning glance. "A suggestion?"
"Yes. Something I've wanted to try for a while." He held her chin up, meeting with her teal eyes. "And you're the one I want to try it on."
The purr in his tone coupled with his intense gaze added to her restlessness. "Interesting… What is it?" She whispered, her lips almost touching his.
He grinned. "Let me bind you."
Images of the genjutsu and herself at his mercy resurfaced in her mind and she trembled with another peak of arousal. She had heard about lovers binding each other during foreplay for heightened sensations and stronger orgasms, but she had never tried it herself, that or anything of the like for that matter. She was the kind of person to want the main course right then and there, and that included her handsome host. Yet his suggestion appealed to her. To let him experience on her, with her, to let him savor his catch in more wicked ways before the final blow... It sounded different and not in a bad way. Besides, anything preventing their encounter from ending too soon was good to take.
"What do you say?" He muttered, his thumb brushing her lower lip.
Smiling against the rough fingertip the seamstress freed herself from his embrace and sat up on her heels. With her gaze holding his, one hand reached for her head piece and the other went for the two pins holding her buns together. In unison they removed the decorations from her head, letting plum colored locks unravel and fall on her shoulders and back in a cascade of long loose curls. To have her hair down in front of him was strange, yet empowering. Dignified women of Konoha, no matter married or not, would never wear their hair like this in public. It was too wild, too sensual.
Exactly how she wanted to feel tonight.
"Do it." She answered in a lustful voice, putting down her things on the table.
Madara smirked, satisfied with her answer and her bold eagerness. "Very well. Come with me." He stood up and outstretched a hand at her to help her up. She gladly accepted it, and held it tight as he led her out of the living room.