Author: Amaya
Editor: Aiko
Characters/Pairings: [Shisui x Sakura]; mentions of [Genma x Sakura] and other minor Sakura-centric pairings.
Categories: Romance, Drama, Action
Rating: Mature [See Warnings Below]
Warnings: 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 || Fourteen
This chapter is dedicated to
Peaches-jpg
for being such an awesome, talented person!
Shisui stiffly counted the minutes as they trickled by, patiently waiting as adrenaline tenderly nibbled at his neck.
He inspected the all-embracing vicinity through the slits of his sallow mask, sure to leave no movement, regardless of how small or natural, overlooked. The wind shifted just slightly against the exposed skin of his arms, altered by some existent force he couldn't see at that exact moment; but he knew it was a large energy. His ears twitched as he listened to the white noise of the forest, memorizing every wind swept tree branch and every bird song, waiting for the slightest change in ambience.
Idly, his fingers worked a knot into the line of wire grasped in his hand.
Compared to the other assignments his team had been tasked with these past few days, this—the takedown of a major black market profiteer and his branch—was the easiest of them all. And frankly, he could use the time away from base camp. Things were tense with the Iwa-nin around, and being in the Corps. was taxing enough without the added stress of an injured team of shinobi from a rival village to add to it. Frankly, he was just about ready to claim an end to their mission, because technically they didn't have to stay. The Tsuchikage's apprentice was healed, as per the agreement. There was nothing in their assignment objectives that stated they had to see to his full recovery.
However, Shisui had a feeling that Haruno wouldn't quite see it that way.
He didn't know how she did it—be so compassionate. Or was stubborn the right word? Whatever it was, he had to commend her for it. He could tell she was beginning to get riled up being around that other kunoichi, Kurotsuchi, but that infamous temper of hers was so far, kept in check—well, mostly. The dark haired woman seemed to have a chip on her shoulder and problems with authority, making it a personal hobby to question and infuriate the rose haired medic, even when she, herself, was being treated.
It had gotten to the point that the two women had come to blows. And normally, Shisui would've been more than okay with letting it play out (because if he were being honest, he would've loved to see Jonin Haruno wipe the floor with that sheep—would've paid for it, too) but the Hokage had put a strict emphasis on the importance of this favor, so he had to step in before things got too out of hand.
His recollections crumbled as a high-pitched chirp similar to a wren's reached his ears, distinct from the other melodies, squeaking out a trill of nine quick beats. After nine, it rolled in a way similar to a purr, then gave three more chirrups at a higher pitch—"Subjects inbound: nine targets, three cargo."
Closing his eyes, Shisui quickly brought his hands together to form the seal of the rat; the darkness behind his lids shifted, morphing into a world of ultraviolet shades linked to his raven's sight. He commanded his bird to leave its perch, steering it through cobwebs of low-hanging branches and between closely gnarled trunks, until he found a small caravan traipsing along a thin footpath. He had his bird circle the group carefully, studying their formation for himself. They traveled in a cross formation; one man took the lead with two behind him. A cage with three captives came after them, one shinobi on either side, and then four taking up the rear.
He glanced at the faces inside the cage, dark with grime and fatigue. Civilians. Cargo.
Breaking the ocular connection with his familiar, Shisui drew his tongue along the roof of his mouth, wetting and repositioning the whistle-plate on his tongue. He hissed twice, each a second long and behind clenched teeth, creating a pair of shrill chirps, then trilled with the vibration of his lips, in askance of Inu's position.
A second song, much more distant and therefore distorted with echoes, replied to him; a strong three-note call belonging to a whip-poor-will, repeated twice—"Group one has been eliminated."
Several moments passed without another note, quickly nipping at Shisui's attention. But he wasn't too concerned; Kitsune was good at what he did. After a tense minute, there came a high-pitched, but soft introductory of whistles, followed by a much louder and deeper succession of chirps, finished with a warbled song—"Group three eliminated."
Adjusting the slip of metal in his mouth again, Shisui chirred his approval and called out his next set of directions—"Move into final position.
Within fifteen minutes, the caravan approached his position; he rolled his knuckles in anticipation. Once three near-identical titters called out to him, Shisui balanced the tiny, metal plate on his tongue one last time and made a soft, flute-like trill—"Go."
The furthest two subjects at the rear of the procession shot up from the ground, hands flailing towards their necks as they were hoisted into the trees by wire nooses. Another moment passed, and then the next two met a similar fate; Inu and Kitsune silently took their places, rappelling down from their hiding places. The two Anbu gestured with a finger to their masks, hushing the captives before they could alert the rest of the group. Shisui watched as the two snuck behind the two men on the sides of the cart; with one quick jerk, their necks snapped and they crumbled into the operatives' arms.
Deftly, Shisui casted the noose in his hands, dropping it over the neck of one unsuspecting target at the front of the procession, and dropped from his perch, simultaneously winching his target up into the air a second sooner than Itachi's—he'll tease him for it later. The final remaining subject, having finally noticed the ambush, whirled around to confront the group of Anbu, just to falter, his body jerking violently in Shisui's arms. Shisui listened to the man's last, rattling breath as it fanned against his neck—to be sure—then unsheathed his tanto from his body, allowing the man to fall unceremoniously at his feet.
Too easy.
"Objective complete. Free the prisoners, then head out."
Kamen
Sakura decided early on that Deidara was the most difficult patient she ever had the pleasure of working on.
First and foremost, his heart was on the other side of his chest. Why? Because there was a fucking mouth where it should should've been. It made no difference when it came to healing him, other than the fact that she had to be careful with the extra mouth since it fed on chakra. And that was when she realized he had two more mouths on his hands. What the fuck.
Apparently those mouths are what created that God awful centipede that had captured her the other day—which, by the way, remained within arms reach of her at all times. And could explode if Deidara, even while unconscious, felt threatened, according to the much friendlier Akatsuchi.
After all that, it had taken two days passed before Deidara's fever broke.
And then three days came and went before he woke up.
She nearly lost him twice. Once during the Saikan Chushutsu procedure—which she had expected—and once a day later as a result of the stress his body had gone through. Sakura grunted as she recalled the standoff that ensued as a result of his almost-death. His kunoichi teammate, Kurotsuchi, had put a knife to her throat, accusing her of purposely killing him, which only resulted in Okami pressing the tip of his tanto into her stomach, not quite puncturing the skin, but almost. And then of course, the other teammate, Akatsuchi, prepared to cast a jutsu, just to be halted from Nezumi's sword against his cheek—and holy fuck, was that tense.
They were all on edge around each other as it was, to the point that she had to be separated after a brief scuffle with Kurotsuchi. Ever since then, at least one of her Anbu escorts had to stay within Shushin range of her at all times just in case. She didn't need the blond bastard dying on her, making it any worse.
So for the past three days, going on four, Sakura remained at his bedside all hours of the day and night, pulsing chakra into his system every other hour just to be sure he wasn't giving up on her. If not for her Yin Seal, she probably would've passed out from chakra exhaustion, herself!
Allowing one leg to dangle from the branch she claimed as her own, Sakura let her head fall back against its trunk, listening to the reassuring bird calls that pierced the forest's melody. If she didn't know any better, she would've assumed they truly belonged to the woods.
Being a country full of woods and forests, the Land of Fire was home to more species of bird than any other country, housing nearly forty-eight hundred different types—almost half of the collective total of known species across all the nations. Eight-hundred seventy genus came from Konoha, alone. Because of this, birds were heavily relied upon for all sorts of things: food, communication, hunting. And like birds, Konoha-nin were bred for the forests. It was noticeable in the colors they wore, in the green of their flak jackets and the rich, autumn reds of their fabrics. Shinobi-to-be were taught to travel through trees, to sleep balanced on the highest, thinnest branches, to memorize the various types of conifers that were native to the land. They stuck together, flocked together, nurtured each other.
And while it wasn't common for the general public, higher classed ninja like Anbu could speak in birdsong. Border checkpoints were full of melodic chirps and flute-like twitters that spoke of returning comrades, while surrounding sectors buzzed with trills of command. And there was no sound more comforting to a tired, dying Konoha-nin than an Anbu's birdsong.
To a Konoha ninja, the chirping of birds meant safety. To foreign ninja, it meant danger.
And just like Kiri-nin were the most feared in the mist, and Suna-nin thrived in sand dunes, there was no place that Konoha shinobi were more dangerous and at home in, than in a forest. And that was why the shinobi of Konoha were called birds.
"God damn birdsong."
And then there were people like Deidara, who believed to be a bird, meant to be easy to scare and quick to flee, to be annoying.
Sakura's attention shot to the blond Iwa-nin the moment she heard his grumble. She abandoned her perch immediately, placing a light hand against his back to help him into a sitting position. He batted her hand away, weakly, but didn't fight her off when she replaced her hand a moment later. "Couldn't you Leaf-nin find a less annoying way to communicate, hmm?"
Sakura shook her head, closing her eyes as if it would somehow alleviate the headache that nibbled at the back of her stiff neck. As exhausted as she was from her three-day battle with injuries, both from the Iwa team and her own, she refused to show it. "Us birds are just doing what we do best," She lightly replied, hoping she sounded as indifferent as she imagined she did. If he was aware, or even cared, Deidara didn't let on.
As soon as he managed to get into a seated position, the blond tensed, head whipping around the small, but cluttered, encampment. His eyes, sharp and cat-like, narrowed into fine slits. "Where's my team?"
Sakura gestured to the kunoichi on the other side of the camp, curled up at the base of a fallen tree and almost completely hidden by a wall of travel packs she had built. "She'll be fine," She assured, seeing the way Deidara's jaw tightened. "Her injuries weren't as bad as yours. Mostly just chakra exhaustion and dehydration so she'll be out for a while. I healed her dislocated shoulder and her burns as soon as I finished with you."
He scanned the area again. "And Akatsuchi?"
"Keeping watch." She flicked a finger towards the east, and after a moment, Deidara's shoulders slackened—almost imperceptibly, but it was better than nothing. "He didn't have much physical injuries to begin with. Just more chakra exhaustion and some bruised ribs. You were the one with all the injuries."
Those stormy eyes finally turned their attention to her, dark and wary; studying her. "You look like shit, hmm."
Sakura's fingers twitched, tightening into a tight-knuckled fist that carved moons in her palm. She wasn't expecting a friendly "good morning" or "thanks for healing me", but she also didn't expect such a rude comment. Years with Naruto at her side conditioned her to lash out at comments like that, and had she been a moment slower, her fist might have reached him—apprentice of the Tsuchikage be damned. But she stopped herself, allowing nothing more than the slight jerking of her right arm. "You don't look much better, sheep."
She didn't normally result to names, but Deidara was a special case, in every sense of the word. His shoulders jumped, chest rumbling as a sound reminiscent of a snort of a snort left his lips and a hand raking carelessly through his knotted gold locks, but he didn't react to her jeer otherwise.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like shit, hmm."
From her position beside him, Sakura took a minute to observe the more noticeable signs of his recovery. His skin had found its color, taking on a much healthier sun-kissed tan that held undertones of peach. Brushing his hair aside, she gently pushed his eyelids back with her thumbs to get a good look at his eyes; his sclera had brightened into a mere off-white while his pupils had dilated to a much smaller point and had lost that sickly, delirious shine, revealing clear blue-gray eyes that eyed her critically.
After a few more minutes of observation, Sakura reached over for the canteen at her side then offered it to Deidara, jerking her wrist persuasively when he didn't accept it right away. "Here. This will help."
Deidara hesitated, eyeing the flask as if it would reach out and bite him, before he slowly took it from her grasp. He removed the cap, pausing to sniff it, then crinkled his nose. "That's not water," He accused, but he was unable to disguise the amused lilt in his tone. Then the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest hint of a smirk, mirroring the praise in his eyes. "You sneaky bird. You're not trying to buy my friendship, are you? Because it'll take a lot more than some cheap Land of Fire sake for that, hmm."
Rolling her eyes, Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. "After the pain you're undoubtedly in—" He snorted at that. "—I figured you could use something a little stronger than water. Most of my patients appreciate it, even if it's not recommended after a procedure like that. So drink up. Doctor's orders."
He swirled the canteen around with a loose wrist, idly listening to its contents slosh around. He was considering it, gauging her reaction it seemed, because of course he wasn't fully convinced it was poison. "I would've never thought I'd be prescribed liquor before, hmm."
"Its the one and only time."
After taking a deep gulp of the contents of the canteen, Deidara shivered, then lowered the container into his lap. He cleared his throat, one hand coming up to press a fist to his chest. Part of her wanted to scoff at him—cheap sake, my ass—but she managed to clamp down on the urge. "Yeah well, this is nothing compared to the sake back in Iwa." He made to hand it back to Sakura but she waved a hand in denial, so he held it to his mouth again. "You ever had Kumis?"
Sakura hummed, leaning back onto her palms, watching as he took another large swig. She assumed Deidara was still feeling a little disoriented from his injuries, either that or he was a major light weight (although she highly doubted that), because he didn't seem the type to be so talkative with others, especially with someone from the Leaf. But she wasn't about to complain about it. "Can't say I've tried anything from Earth Country."
"You're missing out, hmm." He leant back slightly, his face twisting into a grimace as a particularly tender muscle contorted with his movement. He regarded her from the slope of his nose, bordering snobbishly, before gesturing to her with the canteen. "Iwa produces nothing but the strongest."
The underlying crow wasn't lost to her, but Sakura didn't bother commenting on it. She had heard of the various spirits native to Tsuchi no Kuni, and strong didn't even begin to describe them. Tsunade had mentioned that almost all liquors from Earth country had this unique, dry aftertaste that clung to the throat for hours. Sweet wasn't common for their drinks either apparently, but sour was.
"Hmm, I guess I'll have to buy some next time I go to Shion."
He clicked his tongue and looked away, his jaw tightening slightly. "Let's just say I owe you one—If I ever run into you on good terms, hmm."
Had Deidara been in a clearer state of mind, Sakura would've assumed he was flirting with her, and had she been in a better mood (and had he not tried to kill her), she might have flirted back. But she knew better. So she just hummed, encouraging him to talk and drink and talk some more. "So how'd you end up so fucked up while your teammates got by relatively unscathed?"
Deidara shifted to bend one leg, then as he settled his arm on his knee, replied, "Not that its any business of yours." He paused, raking his tired gaze over her, reigning in his joviality as quickly as it appeared, "but then again, I suppose it is since the piece of shit was one of yours, hmm."
Recalling her debriefing with Tsunade and Obito, Sakura remembered that her mentor had mentioned something along those lines. She didn't state a name or a description, but Sakura supposed it didn't matter since it wasn't her priority to go around hunting down nuke-nin.
"Anyway," Deidara grunted, lolling his head away from her. "Those two know better than to get in the way of my art."
A coral brow quirked in curiosity. "Your art?"
With a smirk, he raised the arm he had draped his his knee, revealing that pesky centipede that had previously followed her around. It crawled out of its nest in Deidara's lap and up his torso, antennae convulsing as it turned eerily black eyes on her. Hearing the clicking of its joints made Sakura's nose twist with a grimace, but her discomfort was quickly replaced with fascination. Tentatively, Sakura reached for the creature, hand flinching back before she could touch it and eyes flickering up to Deidara, silently asking permission. He didn't say anything, just turned his head to the side with the rolling of his eyes. Taking it as approval, Sakura held her arm out; the centipede crawled onto her, it's powerful legs scratching at her skin.
As unnerving as it was, having a literal live explosive crawling onto her, but now what she didn't have to worry about it going off on her, Sakura had to admit from a scientific standpoint, it was kind of cool. "Careful," He abruptly warned, when she began prodding at the centipede's maw. "Its not made to bite, but that doesn't mean it won't."
"So it has a mind of its own?"
"Its clay." His retort was short, caustic, but somehow, Sakura could pick out the keenness in his tone, and suddenly, she felt as if she had opened the door for something dangerous. "It does whatever I want it to do."
"Your friend said you made this," Sakura began, canting her head to the right. She could see the tightness in his posture. "With those mouths on your hands?"
The arm that he left outstretched twisted so his palm faced up, and Sakura's brows furrowed with concentrated wonder. The seam along his palm parted after a moment, revealing a pale pink tongue and squared teeth. Without thinking, Sakura reached for the appendage and separated the "lips" further to get a better view of its teeth, immediately yanking her hand back when it nipped at her. The action coaxed a glare out of her, but Deidara didn't so much as look at her; he merely took another swig of the canteen, the tightening of his jaw and the huffing of breath acting as the only indication of his amusement.
"Is this a kekkei genkai?"
"Again, not your business, hmm."
Sakura harrumphed, leaning in closer, wrapping her other hand around his wrist to keep him in place. She poked at the flesh surrounding the mouth, humming contently as the tongue lolled out once again. "So does your body convert chakra?"
He made a face at that, took another breath of liquor. "What?"
She pointed at his chest, gesturing to the mouth over his left pectoral. "When I was healing you, it kept stealing my chakra, like it was eating it." To prove her point, Sakura summoned a trickle of chakra to her fingertips, and watched as the glimmer of it quickly flickered out upon making contact with his skin.
"Why are you—" He faltered, his expression pinching. He was getting irritated with her, she could tell, but she wasn't too worried. "You ask too many questions, hmm."
"I have a morbid curiosity," She replied, lightly, with a little shrug—as if that explained everything. Silence befell for a while, in which Sakura patiently counted the minutes as they passed, her fingers idly gliding over the clattering body of her strange new uh, friend. It was a little over a half an hour later, and lots of back-and-forth, that Deidara suddenly shushed her. His whole body tightened, expression a moue of pain, and then he turned away from her to empty out his stomach.
"A-ah what the fuck?" He breathed, dry heaving again the moment he filled his lungs with air. "What'd you do to me now!?"
"I told you drinking wasn't recommended," Sakura merely pointed out, clapping a sympathetic hand to his shoulder.
He spat into the grass, glaring at her. "Then why'd you let me?"
The smile that stretched across the medic's face was smug, bitten at the corner with poorly disguised mirth. "I needed you to throw up."
Kamen
Shisui wasn't sure what he expected when he and his team returned to base camp, but it certainly wasn't to Haruno making friends with the Iwa-nin.
She was sitting beside the Tsuchikage's apprentice, closely, as if she wanted to, rather than because she had to. Kurotsuchi was stroking the fire, eyeing Haruno with wilted annoyance but appeared otherwise indifferent, while the bulkier shinobi, Akatsuchi, chatted away with Haruno and Deidara. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised him that the rosette would make friends with them. She was raised in a different time, with a team who put special value and emphasis on relationships.
And it should have been a good thing, considering the importance of this mission, but he didn't like it.
The apprentice, Deidara, had finally woken up, and was sitting up in his bed roll while Haruno ran her fingers along his skin. She touched him so tenderly, splaying her slender fingers across his chest, his shoulders, his arms, as she traced his spine with chakra from her right hand. And she was laughing at something Deidara had said.
He knew Haruno was aware of his return; she was facing him, after all, and had met his eyes before turning away, acting as if she hadn't noticed him. He nearly chuckled with his amusement. Her mask was nearly as good as his. He had honestly expected her to slip up, that he'd see glazed eyes colored with lust, or that she'd seek him out late at night when it was his turn to keep watch. He even waited for it, let the invitation hang in the air with the way he'd brush his fingers against her when he'd walk past. He even broke routine by taking the second to last guard shift, just so they'd be uninterrupted should she choose to follow him. But she never did.
Whether that disappointed him, or made him all the more excited for their return home, Shisui didn't care enough to figure out.
Cobalt flashed, clashing against onyx and for a moment, Shisui swore he saw a slash of teeth, but Deidara had already looked away from him. Shisui narrowed his eyes. He still didn't like this—them. He didn't trust those Iwa sheep any more than he trusted a wild snake.
Especially Deidara.
As he thought before, it was strange that the Hokage would send more than two Sharingan users out on the same team, especially as Anbu. He had initially believed it was because of the fact that Iwa-nin were the weakest against Genjutsu, so sending three powerful Genjutsu specialists to defend her apprentice against them seemed logical if not a bit overprotective.
But Shisui was no fool. He learned a few interesting things about their temporary "comrade" when he visited Shion earlier, so of course he had to do a bit more research while he had the chance.
Apparently Deidara was very popular in his home village, with a rumored destiny of leadership after Oonoki eventually steps down. His relationship with the Tsuchikage ran deeper than the official "apprentice" title, with them having met when Deidara was seven years old after an altercation with Kurotsuchi, who also happened to be the Tsuchikage's granddaughter. Under the Tsuchikage's tutelage, Deidara mastered Bakuton by the time he was ten, became the recipient of some highly classified Iwagakure Kinjutsu at twelve, and by nineteen, he became a Captain for Iwagakure's elite Explosion Corps; and was recently promoted to Sergeant.
But all that was irrelevant, as far as Shisui was concerned. The only tidbit of information even remotely valuable and of interest to him, was the fact that by nineteen, Deidara had been responsible for the death of twelve Uchiha in one battle, and by twenty-eight, that number had raised to a staggering twenty-two members of the clan.
Shisui remembered that day, when his aunts cried over their lost husbands while his uncles demanded retribution for their sons. A squad of Uchiha had gone to investigate some suspicious activity near one of the clan's old hideouts, and of the fifteen that left, only three returned. It was a hard day for the Uchiha. And by the grace of the Gods, if not for being assigned a last minute mission, Sasuke would have been amid the massacre.
If that had happened, a war would have no doubt broken out.
And that was why his team was altered. Deidara was Iwagakure's little secret secret weapon against the Sharingan. And based on that one scowl Deidara had given him, that lip-twisting snarl, he knew exactly who—or rather, what—Shisui was.
Had he been anybody else, Shisui might have laughed at the irony of it all, or maybe he would have been furious? Either way, his Hokage either had a lot of faith in his tolerance, or she was insane—because who in their right mind would send the village's most powerful Uchiha to protect her disciple, who was tasked to heal a renown Uchiha killer? The ridiculousness of it all was baffling!
A snort pulled Shisui from his thoughts, and upon focusing on the pair once again, Shisui found himself stiffening. That unnaturally white centipede had wrapped itself around Haruno's neck, jowls opening and closing, sharp pincers wiggling. The colors of the world bled into shades of red without his permission, and with his Sharingan whirring, Shisui could see the heady interest gleaming in Deidara's eyes as he watched the medic handle the animated creature with an almost childlike fascination.
Shisui clicked his tongue, allowing a sharp breath to flow from his nostrils. Haruno was being reckless. Too friendly. And so was Deidara. He saw the way the blond's eyes lingered on the pinkette's neck, how he relaxed into her touch as she coaxed chakra into his skin. And with his Sharingan focused on them, Shisui could read every word that left the Iwa-nin's lips—"It looks like you owe me a drink now, birdie." A hand raised, grasping at rosy locks, idly tugging at them, until Haruno batted it away.
His knuckles popped. His eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure what had happened while he was gone, to make the two suddenly so close, but Shisui did not fucking like it.
He could feel the blond's chakra flickering against his ankles, lapping at his skin with whispers of warnings. Or were they songs of dares? Shisui didn't care, nor did he get the chance to ponder about it further, because suddenly, Deidara moved.
"Haruno!"
"Get down!"
Deidara twisted around, pinning Haruno to the ground beneath him and purposely kicking up dust. Shisui dropped from his cover without a second thought, sword drawn, and he could hear his squad following him. He made to rush forward, to either the pair or to Kurotsuchi, he didn't know, only for a massive white centipede to erupt from the ground in front of him. Four more sprung up, their bodies twisting and crackling, towering over him, hissing at him.
Damn it!
He prepared to launch at the creature closest to him, give his tanto a home in its skull, but it easily avoided his strike, rotating into a coil, and lurched past him. Shisui pivoted, following the beast's movement in time to see it crash into the ground. There was a void between the twists of its body, and with one abrupt jerk of the centipede's body, a series of sickening crackles rang through the encampment, and then the void flickered, revealing a now boneless body in its clutches.
The blues and grays that cloaked the body in front of him were familiar—Kirigakure.
Startled, Shisui relaxed from his defensive crouch, instantly searching the dust clouds for the rest of his squad, just to find them all just as frozen as him. He turned back to Haruno, called out to her. When she didn't respond right away, Shisui made to flicker across the field, only to falter when instinct nipped at the back of his neck. He bowed forward, kicking his right heel up and swiveling on his down-foot, executing a hook kick, but there was nothing there.
He scanned his surroundings with sharp eyes, his Sharingan whirling, noting that Inu and Nezumi now stood back to back while Inu pressed his back against a tree. Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi remained sentinel in front of Deidara and Haruno with kunai in hand.
He expanded his chakra, allowing it to latch onto the wind while searching the settlement for any threads of Genjutsu. He found none. Eyes flickering back to Kitsune, Shisui called out to her again. "Talk to us, Haruno."
He heard a grunt, then the shifting of clothing and then, "I'm okay, Taichou."
The wind shifted against the exposed skin of his shoulder a fraction of a second before a sharp pain stretched throughout his side. With an agonized snarl, Shisui reached down, his fingers coming to encircle the hilt of a kunai, but he did not remove it. Instinctively, he threw his arm sideways, and for a moment, he swore he felt something resisting his strike, but again there wasn't anything physically there. The centipede closest to him screeched suddenly, body straightening, bending so far backwards it was unnatural, and then five more ruptured from underground with shrill titters.
"Whatever you do, don't move, hmm!"
Despite impulse demanding he move out of the way, Shisui remained as still as possible, allowing the centipede to curve over him. It moved so quickly, so unnaturally, that Shisui couldn't help but suck in a breath. There was a foreign voice, cursing, then a wetness splattered against the back of Shisui's neck; the centipede reared back over him again, its jaws clearly wrapped around a body that began to waver in and out of visibility, then it burrowed back into the ground, along with the other centipedes.
There were screams, loud but muffled, as if smothered by pounds of dirt. And then the earth groaned and rattled, chunks of stone blossoming as explosions racked the area, sending supplies flying. Shisui leapt away as an explosion cracked the surface right beneath his feet, and from the fissure it created, blood oozed out.
Finally, when all the explosions died down and ran their courses, curses filled the air. Deidara and Kurotsuchi were snarling, complaining and mocking the Mist for their weak attempt at an ambush. Shisui inwardly scoffed—damned Iwa pride.
And then sapphire clashed with scarlet.
A taut silence befell the two groups of shinobi, turmoil brewing beneath stung skin. Adrenaline fueled the tension between them, so potent, Shisui was sure his Sharingan would pick up its silk cobwebs flittering through the clearing. In fact, he was sure if he raised his hand, he could feel the spidery threads resist him, could lace his fingers with them and tear them apart.
"Taichou?"
At the call of his rank, Shisui leveled his gaze with Haruno's. She was still under Deidara, much to his annoyance, so he flashed across the camp and roughly pulled her away from the blond, then flashed them back to his team. He felt her fingers prodding against his side, tentatively ripping at the hole in his shirt to get a better look at the blade impaled into him. He willed away the flinch that threatened his spine, swallowing his grunt as he felt the weapon shift inside of him.
"Let me fix that," She murmured, so quietly Shisui almost hadn't caught it. He could see her peering up at him from his peripherals, but he refused to look away from Deidara. He couldn't.
Picking up the light growl that rumbled in Haruno's chest, Shisui jerked his head in the direction of his squad. "Later. My team first." He felt her stiffen beside him, perhaps so she could argue with him, but then Haruno pulled away.
Author's Note
Ah, Anbu lore, one of my favorite things to write about! In order to make complicated bird calls, they carry these little metal whistles. They're flat, half-disc shaped plates that rest on the tongue. Depending on the placement on the tongue and the way you blow, the sounds change. This is a real thing. I really want to buy one to annoy my neighbors during quarantine. And so I can command an army of birds.
Secondly, Deidara mentioned a drink called Kumis when he was talking with Sakura. Kumis is a fermented mare's milk native to Mongolia. It's sour in taste and has a small percentage of alcohol; however in Iwagakure, its made as strong as a high-tier vodka. (I like it chilled, rather than hot!) To be honest, I love the idea of Iwagakure having a partially Mongolian-inspired culture to them, like with the colors and the music and the food. Kinda like how Suna would obviously have a sorta Australian/Middle Eastern mixed with Japanese-inspired culture. But that's just me.
And lastly, for those of you who asked about the "bird", "sheep" and "mountain goat" stuff, they're just what other shinobi from countries call each other, derogatorily. Sheep is to reference their their blind, nationalist faith in their Tsuchikage, while mountain goat is a jab at their aggressive, quick to fight personalities. Just thought it'd be kind of fun to add. Oh, and Kiri-nin are totally referred to as cod or codfish, haha.
But yeah. Angry/Jealous Shisui vs Angry/Flustered Deidara was so much fun to write! Sorry there wasn't much ShiSaku, except for at the end, but next chapter is full of intense Anbu!Shisui/Sakura moments. Like, it's nothing but them, to make up for this! I promise.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you in the next one! Stay safe out there!