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 || Seven
There were very few things that Sakura can honestly say she hated. Spicy food was one of them. So was being interrupted. Being underestimated, she could understand and usually would use that to her advantage, so she didn't care enough to get upset over it. Then there's back-sass, and people who made too much noise when they ate. But the thing that she hated the most, that she could snarl and honestly take offense to, was being rescued.
She had spent too many God damned years in the shadows of her teammates, and broke too many bones to be rescued. She collapsed from exhaustion too many times, bruised her skin black too many fucking times to be saved. She didn't need saving. Not anymore. Not ever. Even now, as she hung three feet off the ground, struggling to find her breath and seeing spots in her vision, even when blood coated her eyelashes, she didn't need anyone to come sweeping in to save her. Not Naruto. Not Kakashi-sensei. Not even Sasuke.
"No backup?" Her assaulter teased, his fingers tightening painfully around her windpipe.
Sakura continued to struggle in his grasp, her feet flailing in an attempt to kick at him, her nails carving bloody crescents into his hand—anything to find a way to put space between them. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Her mission's base objective had been one of surveillance; they were to study the movements of a couple that were on a crime spree so they could be apprehended by either Anbu or a better suited squad. Team Seven had followed the Bonnie and Clyde team through the northern part of Fire Country for the better portion of a week, trying to figure out their next movements and assessing their skill level, which led to her being here, in this exact moment, held tightly by the neck by this 6'5" beast of a man. She supposed it was partially her fault she was in this situation.
Not that she would ever admit that to anyone.
Naruto and Sasuke were back at the camp they had settled in out-skirting forest, waiting for her with dinner while Obito went off to guard the vicinity. She had gone into the village to scout the couple as they spent their "earnings" at a few shops in the marketplace, and was actually on her way back to their rendezvous point when she came across a face she swore she had seen before. At first, Sakura wasn't quite sure where she'd seen him, or what his name was. She had been struck by just how pale his skin was; in this darkness, he almost appeared to be blue. Part of her was concerned about whatever condition the man had, because as a medical professional she knew that, that color was not a healthy one, but the other part of her was struck with recognition like a bolt of lightning.
Hoshigaki Kisame
That was his name. He had one hell of a reputation in Kirigakure—an uncomfortably bloody reputation that stretched all the way across the lands and into places as far as Tea Country. He was Kiragakure's most valuable shinobi, one of the most ruthless and powerful members of Kiri's Seven Swordsmen, and he was here.
Memories of her first and last encounter with one of the swordsmen flooded her mind then, pulling long-suppressed scenes of Kirigakure's late Kijin. If the man looming before her was anything like Zabuza, then she had her work cut out for her. She should've went on her way. She should've went straight to her campsite and informed her teammates of the man's presence, because that was the fucking protocol, or maybe even pretended that she had never came across him in the first place, but of course, things never went the way we wanted them. He had noticed her anyway. He probably knew she was there long before she came anywhere near his location judging by the way he grinned at her, all teeth. All she knew, was that one moment, she was perched in a tall bishop pine, hidden amongst it's canopy of needles and pine cones. The next, she was flat on her back with the edge of a very strange looking sword hovering just above her nose.
She should have been more scared than she was. But they actually exchanged a few pleasantries, like normal people. Sort of.
"Well, it looks like the little bird fell out of it's nest. Did you break your wing?"
"What business do you have in the Land of Fire, Hosigaki-san?"
"Che. Straight to the point, aren't we, little bird?"
"You are in direct violation of our treaty, being here."
"You know, I rather liked it when you glared at me in silence."
"And I rather liked it when you weren't in Konoha territory."
"Cheeky brat."
And then they were fighting.
Sakura thrusted her foot out, the flat of it slamming into his knee; he nearly crumpled to the ground at that, his heavy sword planting into the ground being the only thing keeping him from falling completely. By the time Sakura managed to scramble to her feet, he too had straightened himself and was on her like a fly on syrup, swinging his massive sword rather quickly considering the combination of his size and his sword's size. While kenjutsu users generally had the upper hand against her, Sakura found that she managed to evade his attacks relatively easily, likely due to the weight of his weapon slowing him down. As she ducked beneath his wide blade and rolled out of the way, she watched his sword effortlessly splinter a tree behind her, silently thanking the Gods for that.
With a grace she never would have expected from a man like him, Kisame released his sword mid-strike, twisting on his heel, and grasped the long hilt with his opposite hand, following through with the swing in one blink. Realizing she was too close to successfully dodge, Sakura raised her arms to block the attack, only to let out a sharp cry and stumble back as she felt the skin of her forearms burn. Her glare immediately shot up to the weapon, whose bindings had unraveled to reveal the sharp spikes running down the blade, coated in her blood. Strangely enough, his sword almost seemed to hum with it's reveal, as if it were an animated being. A grin stretched across the large man's face at the stunned expression that marred her face, shoulder his weapon with a rough bark of a laugh.
"Samehada isn't like other swords," He began, a mocking lilt to his tone.
Sakura lowered her hands, fiery jade eyes set into a deadly glare as she summoned her chakra towards her injuries. She hoped she hadn't revealed her shock—her horror—when she realized her chakra didn't react as quickly, and that her reserves felt rather light compared to just moments ago. She waited for him to say something to follow up his comment, because he seemed like the type who would go on a spiel and it sounded like he had more to say, but he didn't. Instead, he tilted his head back, that infuriating smirk in place as if insisting she attack.
And so she did.
Which, in retrospect probably wasn't a very good idea. But again, she would never admit that.
With carefully planned out combinations, Sakura advanced on the man, buckling trees in her wake. A wild look came upon his expression as she fell the first tree, something akin to joy and dare she say, respect, flashing in those creepily beady eyes of his. She knew her team would've noticed her distress by now if they hadn't earlier, and were likely due to arrive in the next few minutes, meaning she was on her own until then. In the meanwhile, Sakura paid extra attention to the blade that swam uncomfortably close to her. She had taken two more hits by his sword, once experimentally to see if her theory about his sword's abilities was true, and the other resulting in rippling frustration as she learned that even dodging his attack put her close enough for his weapon to siphon off her chakra. She deduced she had to remain at least twelve inches from his blade at all times, which was nearly impossible considering her fighting style demanded she be as close as possible to her opponents. Not only that, but she had to be very vigilant of her chakra; she couldn't afford to waste it on any large ninjutsu or carving craters along the area, nor could she cause so much of a scene that it alerted anyone in the nearby village of their battle. Her targets would flee the moment they heard of shinobi duking it out in the area.
Never had she ever wished to have learned more ranged techniques than now. Or perhaps trained in kenjutsu with Sasuke or taken up a weapon in general. Obito surely wouldn't have minded teaching her how to use that chain whip of his, and that probably would've helped her out if she had bothered to learn. So dejectedly, Sakura relied on flinging shuriken and paper-tagged kunai in his direction.
He was just so surprisingly fast. His footwork was slow, but his swordsmanship was impeccable, his sword coming at her from all angles without much delay between swings. He moved with his sword, using one hand then both, then switching from his right to his left in one continuous movement, almost as if it were an extension of himself. Had this been any other scenario, or had he been within the bounds of their treaty, she would have actually admired his skills.
Switching an exploding tag for a flash-tag, Sakura allowed herself to smirk when it forced Kisame to bring his hand to his face to shield himself from the brightness of the bomb. She sprinted forward, taking full advantage of his temporary blindness, leaping onto and kicking off the trunk of a tree to gain leverage over his towering form, prepared to smash her fist into the side of his skull. She didn't expect his hand to shoot out at her. His fingers dug into her cheeks as he caught her, as he threw her into the ground and proceeded to drag her ten feet into the base of a tree. The back of her shirt tore apart, as did the skin of her back as he dragged her along, then all the breath left her lungs at once when he slammed her into the tree's trunk, showering them with a flurry of pine needles.
And that's how she found herself here, in this predicament.
He slammed her against the tree one more time for good measure, his ridiculously large hand spanning the whole of her neck and her jaw, keeping her in place while she writhed around on the rough bark. She continued to claw at his hands, his wrists, his arms, but he didn't budge. In her mind, she cursed her luck. For her to run into Kisame, let alone any ninja from Kirigakure all the way out here, the chances were slim to none. Then she cursed herself for getting herself caught in this situation in the first pace.
With her air supply now in fumes, Sakura knew she had to act fast if she wanted to survive another encounter against one of the Seven Swordsmen. She ceased her clawing at his skin, instead wrapping her trembling fingers around his wrist. Her voice cracked into garbled nonsense when she tried to speak, and he actually loosened his hold just enough to allow her to, that cocky smirk still in place."I'm sorry, little bird, I couldn't hear you," Kisame taunted, canting his head in mock curiosity. "Could you repeat that?"
This time, Sakura smirked at him, bloody as she was. "I said...I don't...n-need backup...to finish you...!"
His eyes grew wide with bloodlust at her statement, as did his leering grin. Scraping up all the strength she could, Sakura curled her legs upwards, managing to hook her legs around Kisame's thick neck; she tightened her grip so her knees dug into the sides of his jaw. He grunted, stepping away from the tree but then slamming her back into it hoping she'd drop her hold but she didn't. Instead, Sakura struggled to fish a kunai from her pouch and purposefully jabbed it into his forearm. Kisame released her with a curse, causing the rosette to tumble unceremoniously to the ground at his feet. Sakura shakily rolled onto her knees while grasping at her bruised neck, panting heavily in an attempt to catch her breath. Above her, Kisame ripped the blade from his arm and dropped it at Sakura's breathless form. He kicked her side, forcing her to fall onto her back and curl up in agony, then heaved his sword onto his shoulder once again.
"Come on, get up," He goaded. "It isn't very fun kicking you while you're down, little bird."
Wiping the blood from her face, Sakura forced herself to stand on her own, ignoring the nausea that spun her vision blurry. She couldn't rely on Naruto or Sasuke or even Obito right now. Curling her fingers into her palm, Sakura raised her fists into an offensive position, her front hand beckoning him tauntingly. Amused at her show of will, Kisame tipped his head back and laughed wholeheartedly.
"Oh, I like you. What was your name again? I'd like to remember it on the anniversary of your death."
He didn't give her the opportunity to respond, launching at her with his sword cocked back. Summoning all the chakra she could, to the point that her knuckles began to burn from the overload, Sakura thrusted her fist upon the ground, ready to level the whole God damned forest if she had to. She felt the ground undulate, the soil shifting in an attempt at staying together, and then the earth splintered right beneath her feet. She righted herself the moment she could, losing track of Kisame in the resulting storm, but that was okay.
If he could disappear in that cloud, it meant she could, too.
Kamen
For what felt like an eternity, Sakura waited. She kept her back pressed against one of the trees she had upturned, listening but hearing nothing except her heartbeat in her ears. The kunai in her hand began to tremble with the rush of her adrenaline, but she willed her hands as steady as she could.
It had been too long.
Distantly, she was worried about her teammates. They should have arrived by now—a long time ago, actually, but they were nowhere to be found. They had to have noticed the telltale signs of her battle—the earthquakes, the trailing dust clouds, the spikes in her chakra.
She anxiously sunk her teeth into her lower lip. Where are they?
A disruption in the dust alerted her of the downswing of Kisame's sword not a moment too soon. She flipped backwards and away from the small crater Kisame's sword formed, just for the Kisame in front of her to melted into a puddle. Instinctively, Sakura bowed forward just as his sword split the air above her. Still bent over, Sakura twisted her hips and drove her left fist into Kisame's belly with a loud cry—"Shannaro!"—sending him skidding back with his nails in the dirt for purchase. She shot up faster than she anticipated she could with a swift kick aimed at his lowered head but he blocked it with his forearm; his fingers twitched around the hilt of Samehada but he didn't swing with it. She was too close.
Taking advantage of her proximity, Sakura jerked her left knee up into his face, considering the blood that poured from his lips a small victory.
Unfortunately, it was also short lived, as he his form lost it's mass and water splashed against her. The real Kisame appeared behind her, swinging his sword at her abdomen and ripping into her side; but Sakura's body disintegrated into a flurry of petals, beginning where Samehada had pierced through her side. The Kiri-nin grunted, using a hand to wave the petals away in annoyance.
"Come on out, little bird. I'm getting bored of playing hide and seek," He called out, his voice raspy with intent, but Sakura didn't respond. His ear twitched as he heard the quiver of tree branches overhead; he followed the rustling, his dark eyes warily scanning about the clearing, when a shadow on the ground captured his attention. He craned his neck up sharply, just in time to use his sword to block the axe kick Sakura executed; he felt the ground swallowing his ankles from the power behind the strike.
Using Kisame's sword as a springboard, Sakura flipped back and away from him while flinging a shuriken beyond his head. He made to swing his sword but before he could, the wires Sakura had carefully planted snapped against one another like a chain reaction, pulling taunt against themselves, slicing through another, which in turn snapped another. Kisame listened to each snapping thread even as he swung his sword, only for it to snag against a near invisible wire that had been laced higher up through the tree branches. The snag detoured him for just a fraction of a moment, just long enough for the wires to finally tighten around his neck and arms, but it was all Sakura needed. With Kisame apprehended in the wire, she pressed her fingers into a seal, beryl orbs alight with excitement, and then the unnoticed petals that clung to Kisame's vest and sword illuminated, revealing the seals scrawled across the tiny things. He didn't even get the chance to curse her before the miniature exploding tags went off.
Explosion after explosion went off, bathing the darkening woods with gold and white for several minutes, until they finally sizzled out with the last bomb. Sakura would've smiled tiredly in triumph and thanked Sasuke for helping her perfect her wire trapping, if not for the knife pressed into the crook below her jaw.
"That was very clever," Kisame chuckled into her ear, his grin widening when he felt Sakura shiver. His warm breath danced across her sweating neck mockingly. "That could've been nasty, if I had actually been caught in that web."
Glancing back at him, Sakura could see the singed skin and bubbling wounds across his now bare chest, his flak jacket having been destroyed in her attack. Knowing he actually had been caught in her technique made her smirk despite the situation. Not only that, but he had a kunai pressed against her throat, not his sword, meaning it had landed somewhere else.
Thinking quickly, Sakura jerked her elbow back into his abdomen. He took the brunt of it without much more than a grunt, distracting him long enough for her to ram the back of her skull into his jaw. She hadn't used chakra to cushion the attack so her vision immediately began to swim with agony, but she pushed the pain aside in favor of leaping out of his hold. Standing upped the intensity of her growing headache, making her legs wobble weakly, so she had no choice but to stumble back against truck of of downed tree for stability.
"I'll admit: you're quite the interesting kunoichi," Kisame chuckled, rising onto his feet. "Fighting, all the way to the end. Your village will be proud of your effort." Blood cascaded freely from his now-crooked nose. He leered at her, those sharp teeth of this bloody and teary eyes wild with dark intent. Sakura pressed her hands against the rough bark of the tree trunk, her nails digging into it anxiously. Instead of shrinking down or looking away, Sakura defiantly kept her glare leveled with his own, refusing to show him even a shred of fear even as he twirled his kunai with finality.
She blinked, flinched, and then white floated into her vision, but not blindingly.
"Jonin Haruno." A familiar voice acknowledged, eminating from the white cloak in front of her. Blinking away the daze, Sakura leaned to the side to find gold sparks flickering between Kisame's knife and Okami's tanto. Two more Anbu surrounded the Kiri-nin, one hand drawn in a seal and their others armed with their own tanto.
Her head swimming, Sakura swayed. "...Okami...ta-taichou...!"
"Ah, so the whole mischief has arrived!" Kisame teased, but remained rooted to his place, his eyes darting calculatingly from one officer to another.
The Anbu captain didn't face her, but he didn't need to for Sakura to know he was observing her. She ignored the hardly there warmth that suddenly flickered beneath her navel and repositioned her hands for attack. She was beyond exhausted, ready to drop on her feet and in a hell of a lot of pain, but all of that was eclipsed with a new ray of conviction now that she had help. She knew without considering the skills of the shinobi around her, that they could easily defeat Kisame. And the idea of being so close to ninja as intense of the Black Ops, of fighting beside them, prodded at the embers glowing at the bottom of her stomach.
"Jonin Haruno, stand down."
Sakura looked up at him almost incredulously at his command, unsure if she had heard him correctly. She nearly sputtered, "But—"
"Stand down."
The intonation he used broke the will that managed to suppress her shiver. While the conversations with the man before her could hardly be called such, and were few and far between, Sakura didn't think she had ever heard him reserve such a tone for her before. He was usually curt, polite, saying everything he needed in that controlled voice of his without wasting his breath and with a hint of sarcasm. But this...she couldn't even begin to understand it. There was a particular pull in his voice that conveyed a rugged, no-nonsense nature that stimulated a growing heat in her belly, and holy shit was it attractive.
"Haruno-san," One of the other Anbu addressed, although she wasn't sure which one. "Your team is to return to Konohagakure immediately. Your previous assignment has been terminated."
She knew that voice, too, she realized. But like with the Wolf, could not recall how. But that didn't matter right now. Temper flaring at her dismissal and at the mocking wave the Mist-nin gave her despite the presence of reinforcements, Sakura let out a low growl. How could they expect her to abandon them at this point? To run away with her tail between her legs? She didn't need saving. She needed help. So indignantly, she snapped, "This is my fight, too!"
In front of her, Okami's shoulders stiffened at her defiant tone. A sliver of his mask was suddenly revealed to her as he glanced at her from over his shoulder, and while she couldn't see his facial expression, her breath was ripped from her all the same. He didn't respond to her, at least not with words. He clicked his tongue. And then suddenly, flames licked at her cheeks, the heat eminating from the two Anbu behind Kisame as they let loose massive fireballs. The heat and exploding light was so intense that she began to sweat and had to shield her eyes with her bloody arms, and when the light finally subsided, she found herself in awe as she barely managed to follow the movements of her reinforcements.
Sakura tracked Okami's movements as best as she could with her straining consciousness, watching with unfiltered awe as he juggled kunai with the expert flick of his wrist, just as he had during their spar. His movements were so fluid, so graceful, he looked as if he were dancing rather than fighting to the death. Whereas her fight against Kisame was all melee, Okami's fight almost completely consisted of back to back ninjutsu with the occasional clash of steel, but it wasn't any less captivating. He wove seals so quickly, his long, elegant fingers forming the seals for a fire jutsu that sprouted hungrily from the grin painted across his mask, just to weave the seals for an earth technique that entrapped Kisame's legs. And when he used his tanto, his movements were similar to Kisame's in that his blade moved as an extension of him, rather than an addition. However, there was something unique about the way he swung his sword. While Kisame's sword style was powerful and raged like a stormy mountain, Okami's were artistic and graceful—gentle, as if he didn't want to injure his opponent, and employed graceful movements from his entire body rather that just his shoulder. Unusual for any shinobi, let alone someone from the corps.
She hardly registered Okami's white cloak as his form flickered in and out of existence, disappearing and reappearing multiple times in the span of just a blink, to the point that it almost seemed as if there were five of him on the field. He moved so fast that Sakura wondered if his existence was even real, if his body were just a withering genjutsu that refused to break. The two Anbu who had been flanking the rear were already gone, likely disappearing into the trees as a barrage of glinting shuriken were methodically flung around the field. Remnants of genjutsu scented the air, disrupting the natural energy around them each time until was dispelled, and then an eerie mist rolled in, blanketing so thickly that all she could see were their silhouettes and the electric sparks of their clashing weapons. She could hear the operatives communicating through bird calls, and then the brief chirping of lightning, the growl of fire, grunts as strikes made contact. Her eyes widened as a kunai went straight towards her, grazing her cheek before impaling into the tree behind her to the hilt.
She took that as a warning to leave. And she should have.
You're just in the way, the cut across the apple of her cheek mocked, revealing what Okami meant with that click of the tongue.
But as the mist dispersed and she continued to study the battle splayed before her, Sakura came to find that she couldn't move. Whether it be out of exhaustion or captivation or maybe fear, she wasn't so sure, but she knew she couldn't stay there. The bloodlust that filled the air grew with each moment began to smother her, it's invisible fingers inching their way up her throat until restlessness settled in, and the urge to pick up right where she left off felt so right. But her God damned legs wouldn't react.
Even from where she was, she could feel the bloodlust that trickled from the four shinobi as if it was pressed right against her. Feeling the killing intent, the ground-shattering force of chakra seeping into her bones, thrumming in her veins, lapping at her shoulders, was so intoxicating—no, decadent. Like the anticipation of taking the first bite into a slice of chocolate cake.
Those embers in the bottom of her stomach flared, then. This was certainly the most inappropriate time to consider this, but there was something about knowing that this shinobi—this man—as powerful as he was, had been pinned under her just a handful of days prior, made a flush of heat color her pallid skin. She knew he was talented, strong. He had to be if he was a captain in the corps. But seeing the extent of his prowess in person, feeling the intensity of it as deeply as her chest, remembering him trapped beneath her hips, was far more enticing than it should have been.
Normally she would've been furious about an opponent going easy on her, friendly spar or not, but the intent behind it was clear as fucking day:
He let her pin him down because he wanted her to.
Kamen
She had no idea what the hell happened, but somehow, Sakura's body was no longer relying on the strength of a tree trunk and was now engulfed by a warm chest that smelled like cedar and ash. In a blink, she went from the heat of battle, to the heat of another body wrapped around her, with nausea churning her stomach.
"What—?"
"Holy shit! Sakura!"
"Sakura-chan!" Vision clearing from it's previously spotted condition, Sakura was stunned to find herself pulled into Naruto's arms. She felt her knees quake with the threat of buckling so she eased into the blond's embrace, clutching his jacket for dear life. Distantly, she realized her was shaking. How did I get here?
Obito lifted her chin so he could search her eyes for any subtle signs of head injury. "What the hell happened? Kami, Kakashi's gonna kill me!" His hands traveled to her arms, where he gripped her and scanned the rest of her dazed form. Despite his firm grip on her, Sakura could feel his fingers trembling against her skin. "Fuck."
A hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her attention towards her other dark haired teammate. Sasuke's gaze flittered over her form just as Obito's had but with less worry and more outrage, surveying her injuries with only a hint of a frown marring his otherwise impassive face. His thumb wiped at the blood that collected into the crease of her eye while he let out a near inaudible tsk—conveying his consternation in a way only he could. "Can you heal yourself?" He asked her, a subtle hint of concern playing upon the notes of his voice. She hesitated as she calculated the remnants of her chakra reserve, silently thanking Naruto for the canteen he handed her with a smile, then gave a firm nod. Accepting her answer, Sasuke disheveled his hair with a hand. "We've been ordered to abort mission."
Pulling the canteen away from her lips, Sakura grunted, "Why?"
"We're not sure," Obito replied, both of his hands interlocked at the back of his neck, his thumbs massaging the tendons beneath them out of habit. "We heard you fighting and went to assist but an Anbu squad stopped us. They had orders from the Hokage for us to pull out. They said they'd get you—that you'd—then there was all the explosions and—fuck Sakura don't do that shit again! You know better than to engage enemies without backup!"
He reached for her again; she felt Obito's forehead press against her temple and instantly felt the guilt wash upon her like a bucket of cold water. It was extremely rare for the elder Uchiha to get so overwhelmed with sentiment, so for him to get so flustered meant he was genuinely upset with the situation. Not that she blamed him at all.
She had heard the story of how he'd nearly died, crushed by boulders back in his Genin days. He had been trapped, alone for hours with Kakashi beside him, unconscious from chakra depletion while their third teammate, Rin, ran to get help. He should have died, but he survived thanks to Kakashi. Kakashi had used nearly every ounce of his chakra to chip away at the boulder with his Raikiri, relieving the pressure on Obito's body and making it easier for their sensei and a few others to roll it off of him. Unfortunately, the scars that came with his accident ran deeper than the surface of his skin. He harbored an endlessly deep rooted fear of being separated from his teammates, of someone else experiencing the pure terror he felt in the minutes of not only his imminent death, but of being inches away from a dying teammate and being unable to do a thing about it. She didn't fault him for retiring from the field to teach at the academy a few years later. They nearly lost their whole team that day.
Sakura drew her head back, exhaling a broken breath. God, she felt terrible.
"I'm sorry," She murmured, meeting Obito's frantic eyes. His Sharingan whirled in his lone eye, taking in every detail of her abused face. She tried not to look away. "How'd you guys get to me?" She then asked, hoping to wave away the tension forming between them.
Naruto made a face at that, his grip tightening around her for the briefest of moments before releasing her completely. "We didn't. An Anbu threw you at us then disappeared!"
"Threw me?"
"Yeah! We were about to say "fuck it" and run to you anyway but when I turned around, you were suddenly flying at me! Then he told us to get out of here and disappeared!" He crossed his arms over his chest now that Sakura had pulled herself out of his hold, clearly not at all pleased with the transpiring events. She had a sneaking suspicion which of the three Anbu officers had been responsible for literally tossing her into the arms of her squad, and she wasn't sure if she should have been thankful or even more pissed. The weight of Naruto's hand on her arm pulled her from her thoughts. "Are you okay though?"
Sasuke glanced at her, silently asking her the same thing while Obito busied himself with gathering the last of their things. Waving her hand to dismiss the subject, Sakura began walking off in the direction of Konoha with a slight limp in her steps. "I'm fine. Just a little roughed up and a little pissed."
"Good," The blond huffed, relaxing his shoulders. "He's lucky you aren't that heavy otherwise I would've drop—itai!"
"Dobe."
"Usuratonkachi."
Author's Note
So there's not very much ShiSaku in this chapter and its kind of short and it's basically all action, but it was a necessary break between last chapter's meeting, and the next chapter's. Plus we got to see a little more of Team Seven and a little backstory for Obito, and we got to see Kisame! I had actually planned and wrote part of the scene with Kisame vs Sakura some time before I even fully planned this story. And I had considered someone else entirely, but I think this worked out perfectly.
And now, Sakura has finally realized something about the enigmatic Okami-taichou! Oohh~
I'm so excited because next chapter, you guys are getting a treat in it. I won't spoil too much, but I can give you a little sneak peek since you guys are so awesome and patient and because being quarantined sucks so I know you all deserve some entertainment.
Also, I plan on posting two more stories relatively soon. One is an UchiSaku [Shisui/Itachi/maybe Sasuke with Sakura] while the other would be a Madara/Izuna/Tobirama/Sakura one. I'll post more details in the next chapter if you guys say you're interested. I've been working on them for a while but never posted them for some unknown reason. So let me know if you'd be interested in some new, fresh fics!
Anyway here's your sneak peek:
In the Next Chapter...
-"You would be breaking protocol, Jonin Haruno."
-"I would never be so unprofessional," She paused, her tongue appearing to wet her lips. Shards of emerald glinted impishly, accentuated by the shadows her lashes casted against her cheeks. "Captain."
-She rolled her hips forward into his, moaning purposefully into his ear, and he gifted a pleased groan back before his hands swiftly slipped her already undone shirt from her shoulders. With the skillful twist of his wrist, her bra joined her top on the ground, allowing her skin to press fully against his. Their lips met again, hers with an angry desperation and his with a hungry anticipation for what was to come, their tongues brushing with a deep-rooted passion that seared their flushed skins.