Author's Note
Okay. I hadn't expected such positive feedback in the previous chapter, so I'm pleasantly surprised! I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the creation of my sleep deprived and stumped mind. I know I always say this, but I honestly only manage to write these things because of all of you. I love you all so much. Thirteen years and you're all still just so incredibly supportive. Thank you guys for being here even though I disappeared on you for so long.
Anyway, without further delay, here's chapter two! Enjoy~
Author: Amaya
Editor: Aiko
Characters/Pairings: [Shisui x Sakura]; Uchiha Itachi, Team Seven
Categories: Romance, Drama, Action
Rating: Mature [See Warnings Below]
Warning: This story contains strong language, depictions of violence and mature sexual content including, but not limited to: breath play, superior/subordinate kinks, rough body play, power kinks and so on. You have been warned.
Full Summary: As the most elite of the elite shinobi to ever grace the village, Anbu operatives were easily some of the most frightening and striking characters one could come across. The way they protected the village while cloaked in shadows, appearing like some God-appointed deities when they were needed most and forgoing honor in exchange for anonymity—was as seductive as one could get. But to Sakura, the real allure lied in the deceptive red smiles painted on their masks, and in figuring out who was behind them. ["Don't start things you can't finish, Haruno."]
Kamen
Chapter || Two
It wasn't often that Shisui grew annoyed at someone. Usually, his temper was flexible, able to shift with understanding and sympathy, and take all sides into account. Generally, he reserved the more stoic, stern attitude the Uchiha family was known for, for battles, missions, and clan meetings, and even then he considered himself to be rather lenient.
But not tonight.
He was tired and his body ached from all the traveling he had done in the past two or so weeks. Their mission to River had taken longer than expected and had a few hiccups that should not have happened. Their task was completed successfully in the end, but that did little to soothe his growing temper. For this mission, the title of Captain was passed onto Itachi as he had more knowledge about the area their target was located, than he did. Their fourth, temporary member proved to work almost seamlessly with his team, especially with Genma, but it turns out the knowledge he had about their intended target was due to their past relationship as former comrades—a tidbit of information that was not disclosed to the rest of them. Long story short, their target seemed to have an undying hatred for their temp, attacking him blindly and with a sloppy bloodlust that even the prodigal Itachi seemed to struggle formulating a plan for. His past sentiment could've endangered their mission and their lives. And that's why Shisui found himself fuming silently the whole day and a half trek back to the village.
He would make sure to put a bit more research into all future temps from now on.
After delivering a written report of their assignment to the Hokage Tower's night watch, the team dispersed, leaving Shisui and Itachi to return home on their own. He considered heading to the local watering hole with Genma for a late night drink, but his worn muscles thought otherwise so he silently followed Itachi towards their home. "Well, that was quite a development," Itachi mumbled now that it was just the two of them. His shoulders slacked slightly, indicating that he was more exhausted than he led on.
Shisui grunted, his own aches beginning to fully reveal themselves now that their adrenaline had simmered down. "Yeah, he's never working with us again. I don't give a fuck how skilled he is," He said, quietly, then mumbled more so to himself, "I would've had him written up for withholding information."
The younger Uchiha made a noise of agreement. "Aa, but perhaps the best punishment is knowing that he has been blacklisted from our squadron."
Disheveling his already messy hair with his hand and ignoring the pain that shot up his spine at the movement, Shisui allowed a sigh to escape his lips, then brought that same hand to Itachi's shoulder. "Otsukare, Taichou," He said, smiling beneath his mask despite his sour mood. While he couldn't see it, Shisui knew something resembling a smile was hiding beneath Itachi's mask. He patted his younger cousin's shoulder twice to solidify his thanks, then dropped his hand back to his side, comfortably.
Once in the security of the Uchiha compound, they removed their masks, both nearly sighing in relief as the summer air rushed against their cheeks, unfiltered. He couldn't wait to finally shed his armor and crawl into bed, eat a warm meal and shower; and judging by the thin line forming between his cousin's brows, Itachi couldn't either. Perhaps if he escorted Itachi all the way to the main house Mikoto-obasan would apply some ointment to his wounds before he went home. It wasn't often that he returned home injured, after all. Being an Uchiha meant that he had an advantage over ninjutsu and genjutsu, and while he was currently considered the fastest ninja in the village, he wasn't so arrogant as to say he was untouchable. It just so happened that their target specialized in weapons just like their temp to a higher degree, and it wasn't often that he fought against someone so adept at bukijutsu.
A loud shout reached their ears, making the two Anbu operatives pause, then after sharing a knowing glance, the two begrudgingly re-applied their masks and hurried down the street, towards the rising voices. They shouldn't have been surprised to find Uzumaki and Sasuke standing just outside of the Uchiha's private training grounds, seemingly in the middle of one of their usual arguments when they arrived. The blond's arms were folded across his chest indignantly, nose flaring and cheeks flushed while Sasuke leaned his weight to his left foot, hand resting precariously over his Kusanagi. Despite the slackening of his shoulders, Shisui growled. He really did not have enough patience for this tonight.
"Oi," he barked, startling the two, but not quite enough for them to change positions. "It's late. You're disturbing the peace."
Sasuke jutted his chin into the blond's direction with a scowl. "He's the one making all the noise. He's drunk." The faint glaze to Sasuke's eyes told Shisui that he held a bit of responsibility for the racket, but the eldest Uchiha didn't comment on it.
"You're drunk too, Teme!" Naruto retorted, jabbing his finger into Sasuke's chest roughly enough for the ravenette to take a step back. "Don't act all big and bad now that your brother and his guard dog are here!"
Guard dog?
"You better move your finger before I rip it off, Dobe," Sasuke warned, scarlet flickering in his gaze when Naruto leaned a little too far into him.
"Sasuke," Itachi's voice flittered about, his soft tone disguising his own tired warning. "Come, before Otou-san hears of this." He set his hand atop his brother's shoulder, pushing gently to direct Sasuke towards their home, leaving Shisui alone with the knucklehead.
"Yeah Teme, go before Otou-san hears of this." Uzumaki mocked, waving his hand dismissively. Had he been in a better mood, Shisui would have been pleasantly amused at seeing the tense jump in Itachi's shoulders and the look of pure anger on Sasuke's face as he tried to whip around in Itachi's grasp.
With an annoyed sigh and a sharp pain in his side, Shisui mimicked his cousin's actions of snatching the drunk Jonin by the back of the neck, intent on directing Naruto towards the entrance of the district but without the gentleness Itachi employed. Naruto followed the silent command with a low grumble under his breath, stumbling a bit here and there. Part of the Anbu operative wanted to just let the drunk man fall on his face, but knew it would've been cruel of him, so he made sure to keep a tight grip on the back of his shirt to keep him from falling over.
It wasn't unusual to find Team Seven's members inebriated during their time off, just like it wasn't that unusual for the two young men on the team to squabble, but normally Uzumaki was a friendly drunk and their petal-haired teammate was the peacemaker. She stepped in before anyone else ever had to, reprimanding them with a smack to their heads and dragging the boys by the backs of their necks to wherever it was she took them, so he was more than a bit surprised to see that she was absent. He wondered why.
Naruto suddenly shrugged his way out of Shisui's grip, floundering over his own feet, his tanned hand waving to gesture the Uchiha's dismissal. Shisui's brow twitched. "I'm goin' to Sakura's," Naruto grumbled with a slur, putting a little too much weight on his left foot and nearly toppling over. "I don't need your help!"
Naruto began stalking off, his pace set off by his stumble which only made the Uchiha roll his eyes. He knew that if he took Naruto home, the stubborn boy would've drunkenly wandered back out on the streets to find his female teammate anyway. Who knew what kind of mischief he'd dig his nose into then? And Kushina certainly wouldn't approve of him leaving her son to his own devices, even if he had been dismissed by him. Quickly reaching Naruto again, Shisui grabbed him by the scruff just as Haruno often did and led him more forcefully towards the direction of the rosette's apartment.
Kamen
The knock at her door startled her, forcing Sakura to scurry across her apartment whilst pulling the first article of clothing she could over her head. It was an unusual time of night, nearing morning, she noted upon seeing the moonlight pouring through her living room window, which only stirred her concern further. Anyone who bothered to come by her home this late into the night, couldn't be coming by for a casual visit.
Nearly throwing her door open, Sakura faltered at the entrance when she found herself face to face with one of the most beautiful Anbu masks she had ever seen. It was a variation of a wolf, with short ears pointed in attention at the top of his head. The holes for the eyes were panted widely and with a heavy, feminine slant, appearing to take up a good portion of the face and accented by just a light rim of scarlet that curled upwards at the ends. The forehead bore a red enso formed by a single brushstroke, just like Amaterasu was pictured to have, with red tomoe above each eye like maro-mayu. She stepped back, stunned by the man at her doorstep, and she searched her mind for that mask's design because she knew she's seen it before but she couldn't pinpoint the owner.
"A-ah Okami-san," She all but gasped, bowing slightly. Her cheeks flushed, not just because of her rush or because she wasn't sure whether to address him by his rank or by his mask, but because of her embarrassment at being seen dressed in just an oversized shirt that she was sure belonged to Sasuke, and tiny shorts that couldn't even be seen from beneath it. She wasn't even wearing a bra! Her appearance certainly wasn't an appropriate one, especially when in the presence of a shinobi as prestigious as the one before her. Her heartbeat quickened; if an Anbu member was at her door, then something really bad must have happened.
"Haruno-san," the masked shinobi regarded, now pushing something—or rather, someone—in front of him. "I believe this belongs to you."
His voice was familiar, yet not, as she couldn't think of the face the deep, muffled voice matched. There was something in his tone though that unsettled her. The amount of authority in his voice was piercing, heavy, and it sent chills weaving up and down her spine. That paired with the battle-worn outfit and the specks of blood that had dried to the porcelain of his mask invoked a strange sensation in her belly. Redirecting her attention, she took note of Naruto, drunkenly slouched against the deadly operative's grip and mumbling indignantly. The masked man held him at arms length by the collar at the back of his neck, seemingly being the only thing to hold the blond up on his own two feet at this point. All embarrassment Sakura had for her state of dress flew out the window as she pieced the scene together, and it took almost all her willpower to keep from punching her teammate across the street.
She should have known that at least one of the two would've ended up in her apartment tonight. They had invited her to their favorite bar, Iyasare, or rather, Naruto had and Sasuke silently agreed to tag along while Kakashi went off to do whatever it was that he did. Neither Sai nor Yamato hadn't been there either, as they were both busy with their own respective assignments. She went, enjoyed a bottle and a quick meal with the two but left early since she had an early shift the next day. Well, that and she had some things to take care of at home. She should have known that the two would've stirred up some trouble sometime in the night with her absence. She would have been worried if they hadn't.
Instead of clobbering the drunk man on her doorstep, Sakura grabbed Naruto by the ear, immediately drawing whines of pain and protest from him, then forced him to her side with a fake smile and a glare. "Aha, I apologize for my teammates' actions," She began, laughing somewhat awkwardly despite herself. "I hope they didn't cause too much of a disturbance." She felt Naruto's cheek burrowing into her waist, nuzzling her like a cat, while his hands lazily rested at the small of her back. a little too low on her hip. She resisted the urge to smack him.
The Anbu member merely stared back at her, the smile on his mask appearing more like a sneer in the dim lighting. Without so much as a tilt to his head, the Wolf said, "Please be sure to keep your teammates better leashed, Haruno-san."
Normally, a comment like that would've angered her, especially when it regarded the man currently curled into her side. And it did, just not as much as it usually would have. There was something in the man's tone that hinted towards something more playful rather than malicious, something almost teasing, but was mostly hidden by that stoic voice that all Anbu employed. She brushed the comment aside with the wave of her hand, all but shoving Naruto into her living room with her foot despite his curses. "Of course! My apologies, Okami-san."
Neither of them moved for a moment. Sakura hissed at Naruto from her doorway, trying not to fidget under the unknown shinobi's gaze, while the tall man simply observed her. The air between them was still and thick with a tension that Sakura couldn't quite name. She couldn't see his eyes, as they were as black as the paint that surrounded them, nor did he move his head in the slightest, but she wondered if his eyes were dragging up and down her form. Nervousness made her stomach feel oddly hollow. Could he feel her anxiety? Clamping down on the urge to fidget, Sakura nibbled at her lip, unaware of the flint eyes now studying the action. She tried to find the words to dismiss the man so she could deal with the problem that was Uzumaki Naruto, but found her words stuck in her throat as a faint, coppery sent reached her nose. Her sense of smell may not have rivaled the Izuzuka's or even Kakashi-sensei's, and the breeze pushed the scent away almost as soon as she caught it, but she knew what blood smelled like. And then she noticed that he seemed to be favoring his right leg for his weight rather than evenly distributing it on both feet as Anbu were drilled to do. He was injured. Suddenly, Sakura felt extremely guilty that he had to deal with her squad mates in his condition.
The desire to reach out, to press a hand with warm healing chakra against the masked man's chest was almost overwhelming, but she knew better. Anbu had their own protocols when it came to injuries, and trying to help him would be breaking some pretty serious rules. So she busied her hand by fumbling with the hem of her shirt.
After what seemed like forever, Okami-san finally nodded his head and turned away, his movements somewhat stiff from his injuries. With her heart in her throat, Sakura moved to close the door, preparing to let loose her own flurry of curses at Naruto for his antics when she heard a soft voice reach her.
"Good night, Haruno-san."
She shut the door quickly but quietly after returning the goodbye with her own curt one. Currently, Naruto was dragging himself along the floor, his path seemingly obstructed by one of her boots laying in front of him. As annoyed as she was, she couldn't resist releasing a snicker as the blond pulled her boot against his chest to cuddle, nuzzling it like he had her belly. Stepping over his body to enter the kitchen, Sakura shook her head not just at her teammate, but at herself as well. She tried to tell herself that the voice she heard eminating from the Anbu member's mask was not heavy or breathy, that he did not purr her surname as if he knew what she was up to earlier. Because ninja like Okami-san didn't speak in voices like that.
Kamen
Sakura glanced down at the clipboard in her arms, skimming the information neatly scrawled along the page with a yawn. Her night with Naruto had been a long and exhausting one, and not even in a good way. He kept waking her up in the middle of the night, mumbling and moaning in his sleep, giving her a pretty good idea of what exactly he was dreaming about. Pervert. And then he woke up sometime around two AM. He needed her help getting water, then he was hungry, then he was nauseous and tired and suddenly he was wide awake, asking her to join him in an early morning spar. He didn't even like early morning anythings.
She loved the blond boy to death, honestly, but she had come this close to strangling him. He was just lucky that she loved him enough to keep from locking him out on her patio for the night.
She just hoped he remembered to clean up his dishes and fold the blankets on the couch when he left, although she highly doubted he would.
Sighing, Sakura read through the patient file attached to the clipboard. Her next patient was an Uchiha; they were reported to have multiple lacerations of various severity, mostly confined to the torso and arms. There wasn't any indication of infection in the patient notes, but it mentioned tenderness along the ribs and heavy bruising along the back. She nearly sighed as she brought the paperwork to her chest, already imagining the headache she would be carrying after. Shinobi were always difficult when it came to their health, often avoiding the hospital as if it were the source of the plague, but shinobi from the high clans were the worst. They were always so sensitive and on edge, questioning her every move both silently and vocally, eyeing her with suspicion the moment she entered the room and making their chakra dance as if a show of dominance. The Uchiha were especially troublesome, as they seemed to only come around when in extremely dire situations and even then, they still flinched away from her touch. Hell, they acted as if her healing a broken foot was the same as her examining their eyes. At least the Hyuuga pretended they weren't wary of her presence. They gave her that little bit of respect.
Luckily, Uchiha Shisui was one of the friendlier ones. She had only ever healed him maybe twice before but she could confidently say that he didn't really put up much of a fight, allowing her to check him over with very little, if any, fuss and a hint of mirth. Compared to the rest of his clansmen, he was casual and open, cracking jokes every now and then whenever he was with the Uchiha heir, at least from what she's gathered in their few interactions. He even smiled. She rather liked that about him. Several of the nurses loved him also, and based on the gossip that she sometimes allowed herself to divulge in, he loved many of them too.
Stopping in front of the exam room, Sakura steeled herself and entered, that professional smile in place.
"Good afternoon Uchiha-san," She greeted with a curt bow. Shisui faced her from his spot atop the exam table, a small grin lighting up his features at her arrival. He seemed comfortable, leaning back slightly so his weight rested on his palms, looking as if he were basking on a porch rather than visiting the hospital for a healing session. His shirt and sweats had been removed, crumpled into a puddle behind his body, revealing a series of gashes along his torso, peppered with a few stray contusions along his arms. His legs weren't as abused, with the shins nursing a few reddening bruises and a puncture wound to the left thigh likely caused by a kunai. As for the bruising on the back, the description in the patient notes didn't do the actual injury justice. A multitude of hues that didn't belong on human skin spread from his shoulder, reaching as high as his neck to as low as below the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The blue-black-green splotches were garish against his pale skin, looking far more grotesque than she expected. It made her wonder if he had any internal injuries. She tsk'ed. While they weren't the most disturbing injuries she had ever seen, it didn't take away the fact that they looked awfully painful.
"Ah Haruno-sensei," He returned, his smile warm despite the pain he had to have been in. "I didn't expect that you'd be my doctor today."
She let out an amused hum at his rather cheerful demeanor. "It's not often that an Uchiha willingly checks themselves into the hospital. Surely you can understand why I couldn't pass the opportunity to be the one to work on you." She moved to stand in front of him, clipboard now on the counter a foot away, waiting patiently as her charge adjusted his necklace so the pendant fell down his discolored back before she began observing the wounds on his chest. They weren't particularly deep ones, the edges of the skin sliced cleanly. Judging by the tint of inflammation and the dark color to the top of the raised skin, these were just a few days old and had been treated with soap and water based on the dry flecks of skin around them. A few of the deeper ones also bore the remnants of some on-the-fly stitch work. She surmised they were a few days old, and that he reopened and irritated them while training recently. She resisted the urge to scoff. Typical shinobi.
Gazing out the window, Shisui shrugged despite Sakura's probing fingers. "You get to heal Sasuke-chan all the time," He pointed out, tilting his head back, exposing the length of his neck to her. He didn't miss the upturning of her lips at the nickname. "I would've thought you'd be bored of us Uchiha by now."
Sakura moved to the side so she could observe the bruising. Carefully lifting his arm, she found that the bruising wrapped around his sides, accentuating the dips of his rib cage on the right side. Some of those were angry red smears, meaning those were fresher than the rest. "Sasuke-kun is the worst, I think," She half-heartedly mumbled, more focused on her observations than on their conversation. "He gets so touchy about his injuries, always pulling away even though he's literally bleeding out. It's really annoying."
Shisui vaguely recalled a time when the word "annoying" was used to describe her by the very same young man they were talking about. They hadn't interacted enough back then for him to form an opinion of her former self and therefore couldn't compare the two, but he had heard enough stories to figure she was difficult to deal with back then. He made to respond but was cut off by a wince when Sakura applied pressure against his ribs.
Her jade eyes flickered up to meet his quizzically. "On a scale of one to ten?"
"Ah, eight," He hissed, body ramrod straight from the pain.
A cooling sensation pooled against his skin, kindly warning him that her chakra was beginning to seep into his tissue. He didn't fight it, even when the chill of ghostly fingers wound between the gaps of his ribs, but he did show his discomfort by shifting under her touch. Quickly, the discomfiture diminished however, replaced by a warmer, soothing chakra that bloomed against his skin from the inside out. Shisui's posture slackened with the warmth, but the feeling was fleeting; she withdrew her chakra all too soon and moved away from him completely. Sakura didn't speak to him as she ambled over to the cabinets above the counter, her key unlocking the mechanism. She was so focused on her rummaging that she was completely unaware of the observant gaze that traced over her.
Shisui couldn't help it.
That vexing lab coat hid her from him, obscuring his view of the curves that he never really noticed before. It was strange, because he never would have cared for the soft slopes of her silhouette or for the rising swell of her breasts and hips, if he hadn't seen what she looked like beneath all those layers. Just remembering the incurve of her slim waist, dusted with dirt and glistening with a sheen of sweat, summoned a different kind of heat within Shisui's belly; it swarmed just below his navel, mockingly. Kunoichi in general were often pretty to look at and fun to touch, of that he had firsthand knowledge, so it shouldn't have come as that much of a surprise that Sakura, who was one of the most talented kunoichi in all of Konoha, wouldn't be any different. But it did. Maybe it was because he had never seen her in that kind of light before. He never thought to. And now that he had gotten a glimpse of what was hidden beneath that bulky coat and the baggy red blouse, it was safe to say his interest was piqued.
Then his thoughts wandered back to just the other night, when he had delivered her intoxicated teammate to her apartment doorstep. She was hardly dressed when he arrived, wearing only a shirt that he was certain belonged to Sasuke, or maybe even Itachi based on the length. He recalled the way she shifted when he raked his eyes over her form, how she nibbled at her lower lip, and he had to admit that the little action was enough to stir that familiar heat. He could have sworn her scent was tinged with something but he had barely caught the tail end of whatever it was so he couldn't say for sure if his assumption on what she had been doing before their meeting was correct. If not for having just been with both his cousins, he would've assumed that her skin was flushed because of one of them. It surprised him, to say the least, and he would never admit it aloud and blamed the exhaustion, but a small portion of his composure nearly slipped at the image of Konoha's golden girl all flustered over her own hands.
Almost as quickly as the memory appeared, it disappeared. But Shisui did not look away.
Returning with a little blue jar, a bottle of what appeared to be antiseptic, bandages, a suturing kit and a jar of cotton swabs, Sakura set the supplies on the metal table beside him. It was with the care of a mother that Sakura now moved to examine the wounds on his arms and hands. The surface of her skin was soft, lacking the callouses most shinobi bore, and they brushed against his flesh so lightly that he wondered if she really even touched him. She didn't ask him how he sustained these injuries, seeing as how their profession made it obvious, and he didn't offer an explanation. If either of them had any concerns about poison or infection, it would've been mentioned by now, so Shisui allowed himself to relax as she applied the antiseptic to the scrapes along his forearm. His fingers stung as the fluid nipped at the thin, near invisible cuts on his hands, muscles twitching openly as she reached the deeper cuts. Once she finished disinfecting the wounds to his arms, she moved to his shoulder to examine the large bruise that spread across it like an inky blue pauldron.
Her feather-light touch still reached the hyper-sensitive skin, making him wince. Her touch grew heavier after a few experimental prods, fingers spreading across the top of his shoulder as she applied pressure with her thumb, carefully digging the digit into his shoulder blade. He felt the heat of her chakra pouring into him again at the touch, easing the pain so her light kneading wouldn't hurt as much. Her proximal knuckles rolled over the side of his shoulder blade, digging into his muscles almost uncomfortably. The heel of her right palm twisted into the flat of his wingbone. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees so she could smooth her hands down the plane of his back towards his hips, relishing in the comforting presence of her chakra as it reacted to his injuries. A guttural sigh escaped him without his permission, his lashes lowered and he tilted his head towards the side to give her better access to his tender shoulder.
The sensations her hands brought out in his muscles were welcome ones. But things were different this time. The image of the destruction she had caused to the training fields had been ingrained into his head ever since he stumbled upon her squad's training session nearly three weeks ago. He had seen those delicate hands upturn the earth like it was nothing more than a pile of blankets on a bed. Those hands shattered tree trunks as if they were made of glass. Those deceptively tiny hands were a complete contrast to the ones that eased pleasantly over his body. How hands that could break through mountains could also tear out such pleasurable sensations was beyond him.
It wasn't protocol to heal superficial things like contusions, as it would just be a waste of time and chakra, nor were massages, but Sakura must have taken pity on him. The first and last times that Shisui played patient, Sakura had kneaded him in a way similar to this, just without the chakra. She was grumbling at the time, saying something about shinobi being so careless about their bodies, garnering physical perfection just to ruin their muscles and bones over poor after-care. She claimed that regular massage regardless of how short, not only alleviated pain, but could also reduce fatigue and eliminate toxins in the body, which was why she took the extra measure to do it for her patients, if time allowed it. He wasn't sure just how true all that was, but he definitely wasn't going to argue with her about that.
Impishly, he wondered what else those dangerous hands of hers could do.
Shisui remained silent when Sakura's hands left his skin after a little while, leaving the worked tissue cold despite the heat that swam beneath it. The expanse of his back still ached, but the pain was much duller than it had been. Turning his head, he could see that the discoloration remained, although the darker hue had shrank somewhat in size, leaving behind yellow smudges in its wake. The ache persisted, but was much more tolerable now than it had been.
"I didn't heal all of the bruising," Sakura began, sinking her fingers into the blue jar once again. "It's healthy to let the tissue heal itself for things like that, but I treated just enough of it to alleviate the pain in the more easily agitated places like the shoulder and ribs."
"Thank you."
She offered a small smile in response. After dabbing the disinfectant about his lacerations, Sakura moved on to applying a salve to them. The ointment was icy at first, especially when applied to the larger injuries such as the gash on his left pectoral; the muscles rippled as she carefully smeared the substance on the raised bit of skin and he sucked in a breath in discomfort. She glanced up at him, hand frozen against his chest. "Sorry," She hummed, dabbing her finger against it again albeit even more gently. Her breath fanned over the wet skin, causing it to raise with goosebumps rather pleasantly. He swallowed his grunt when her nail brushed against his nipple. Something within him wondered if that was on purpose, but he fiercely doubted that.
Finished with that particular laceration, Sakura straightened to full height again. Shisui tracked her movements with an openly curious eye that nearly made her shift on her feet. She resisted the wave of anxiety that seemed to crash into her from out of nowhere, her hand flattening against his chest as she encouragingly pressed him down against the cushioned exam table. "Please lay back," She instructed. He did so, a roguish simper now on his lips.
"Ne, Haruno-sensei," He murmured, his fingers enveloping her wrist when she reached for him, rubbing over the thin skin above her veins. Her body stilled at the contact. He could tell she wasn't pleased too with him now. Ignoring the look of warning that marred her face, which honestly only stirred his amusement further, Shisui laid flat against the exam table. "I didn't realize you were so hands on. If you wanted to take advantage of me, all you had to do was ask."
Her cheeks pinkened obviously with her fluster but her brows furrowed in contrast. She didn't respond, but the way her once gentle hand roughly smeared the ointment over the long and awfully tender cut in his side was enough of a response for him. His chuckle dissolved into a grunt, but his smirk refused to leave his face.
Author's Note
And chapter two has now come to a close.
We got quite a bit of Uchiha action here, with Itachi and Sasuke and Shisui all together and even a mentioning of Mikoto. I love writing stuff about the Uchiha Clan. They're so mysterious and interesting, and because so little was known about them in the anime, they're open for my own interpretation! Which brings me to this question: what's your favorite Non-Massacre fic? Doesn't matter what pairing—ItaSaku, SasuSaku, ShiSaku, MadaSakura, WhoeverSakura. I'd love to read it! And it doesn't have to be here on FF either; I'll read it on another site!
And speaking of another site; I created an account on WattPad. I plan on re-posting my stories there as well, especially Naughty Girl, since everyone keeps messaging me even to this day about it. My name on there is Amaya Miyaki, so do check that out!
Anyway, please give me some feedback on how you feel about these last two chapters! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially if you notice a spelling/grammatical mistake or an inconsistency in the story!
Amaya
Note: Otsukare is short for Otsukaresama [deshita/desu] which is basically the Japanese equivalent to "Good work" and is said amongst colleagues.