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."]
Author's Note
I'm back!
I'm so sorry for being over 3 weeks late to update. I had been called back to work, much to my frustration, and ever since, I've been working 6-7 days a week, 13 hours a shift. It's been so exhausting both physically and mentally, that on days where I do get home "early", I'm falling asleep as soon as I see my bed. Even now as I write the last few paragraphs of this chapter, I'm struggling to stay awake. Thankfully, I'll be back to a normal, 8 hours a day, 5-day work week as of tomorrow.
That said, I hate to admit that I've also been struggling with something else these past few weeks. Some of you may know that I have a service dog named Brownie. She helps with detecting my anxiety attacks, stimulating my nerves, retrieving water and things like that; these past few weeks, she's been struggling to walk and eat. I had taken her to the vet, just to learn she had torn her Cranial Cruciate Ligament (the dog equivalent of the ACL), which is extremely painful, and that she will need surgery to repair it. Because of her injury, she hasn't been as attentive as she usually is, and its been very hard on me in so many ways. So I've started a Gofundme that's already raised $400! Any little bit would help, even if its just $3, and I would greatly appreciate it.
However, I do feel weird about asking for donations and I know that some people don't like using Gofundme, so I've decided to do commissions in exchange! I've created accounts for Ko-fi, Venmo and , so if you're interested in a oneshot, you can message me for those details!
Because of this, I may not be able to update Kamen or Okinotayuu as frequently as once a week, but only once every other week now. I'll of course try to update whenever possible, but I can't promise updates as close together as it was during the shelter in place order.
I'm sorry everyone. I hope this intense chapter makes up for the long time away!
Kamen
Chapter Fifteen
Sakura wouldn't say she was the most patient person in the world, but neither would she say she deserved the title of the most impatient, either.
As a medical professional, she had to have a certain level of forbearance when it came to others. And having Naruto, Sasuke and Sai as teammates trained her to ignore the urge to stomp around and scream—well, most of the time. But that being besides the point, her squad—Kakashi-sensei, Obito-senpai and Yamato-taichou included—could attest to just how patient she could be.
But as Sakura stood in her kitchen, rubbing absentmindedly at her stiff shoulders, she couldn't help but growl to herself in frustration.
The rhythmic titter of the living room clock was beginning to ebb away at her composure, mocking her with vigor as she involuntarily counted the minutes ticking by. Every bit of her ached, from the crests of her shoulders, to the swell of her hips, and the backs of her calves, despite the hour-long soak she had in the tub just minutes ago. She could've healed the indigo bruising smattering her forearms and the lingering pain from where she had hand-stitched her injuries, but her chakra was still a little too low for comfort, and doing so would've tired her out even more.
Bracing her hands against the edge of the counter, Sakura bowed forward, stretching out her back, head dipping down. She twisted her hips until they popped, then rolled her shoulders with a relieved exhale.
She winced as the remnants of a particularly nasty, but mostly healed laceration below her left breast pulled taunt—her mentor's reminder as to why evasion was so important.
Once she had worked out the kinks in her back, Sakura returned to her original position with her elbows propped against the counter and hands combing through her damp locks. Tiredly, she reached for the saucer of sake waiting for her and threw it back in one go, sighing contentedly as the creamy liquor soothed her throat. She should've been in bed, curled up in the sheets and lost to the world, because everything hurt and she was so, so tired; but when she laid her head down to sleep, her thoughts had drifted back to the forest.
Flashback
The next two and a half days flew by much faster than expected, and while Sakura wouldn't quite say it was with a heavy heart that she and her team would be parting ways with the Iwa group, she would admit that she did feel it was too early to leave them. Deidara's injuries weren't even remotely close to being considered treated. His burns, while healed, left his fresh skin tender and was susceptible to irritation, and even though the poison had been extracted from him, the lingering traces of it—the nausea, the dizziness, fatigue—remained, and would continue to for another two or three days at the very least. His teammates were also still recovering from their own fits of dehydration, and as much as Sakura wanted to trust that they'd follow their aftercare instructions, she knew that two of the three Iwa-nin were too bull-headed to care.
It was an unfortunate truth, but the moment their groups separated, it would no longer be her problem to worry about.
Still, she hated leaving patients half cared for. It made her work appear sloppy and half-assed, as if she didn't care about every single person she treated. It made for a poor reflection of her as a medic, of her as the Hokage's apprentice, and of Tsunade in general.
She wanted to stay an extra day to do a bit more hands-on work with Deidara, or at least, wait to leave until morning, when the mist had lightened, but Okami-taichou insisted that they were due back, and Deidara didn't seem to care either way. Or so he tried to lead on. The blond had waved them off over dinner, stating his team had planned on leaving anyway once they finished with the rabbit they were digging into, and his act of indifference was so believable, she almost bought it. But Sakura heard the annoyance in his voice when he dismissed Okami, saw the way he regarded her with a touch of consideration and a pulsing in his jaw. But he also didn't say anything about it to her.
She wouldn't say the two of them had become best friends or anything. They may have gotten about as close as two enemy ninja could get, seeing as how he didn't seem to mind pushing her back and making snide comments about her village, but there was certainly a change in their relationship. He clearly held some semblance of respect for her. She saw it in the way he'd silently listen in on Kurotsuchi's complaints, but would be quick to admonish her the moment the dark haired kunoichi said anything particularly rude about her or Tsunade. Any comments he had about Konoha or even about the Anbu squad that surrounded them (which was many), he freely spouted, but he never had anything to say about her or her mistress. Sakura supposed it was because as a Kage's apprentice himself, he recognized that she wouldn't tolerate anything said about the Hokage, or because any wrong word could potentially lead to another war between their nations; or maybe it was because in a way, their relationships with their mentors bound them together.
Whatever the reason, Sakura was thankful for their mutual understanding, because she really didn't have the patience to deal with him otherwise.
It wasn't that Deidara was a nuisance to be around, or anything. Sure, he seemed easily annoyed and a little too concerned about appearances (both his, and that of his village), and he was dangerously close to rude, often times giving his opinion on just about anything and everything; but he was an interesting character. He was very proud of his village and his heritage, as proven by the braid loosely woven into the side of his head and the bold, insular knots embroidered at the hems of his clothes. And according to Akatsuchi, Deidara was a skilled player of Tsuchigakure's illustrious horse-head fiddle, able to play its strings into the sound of a horse's whinny. All in all, the blond genuinely seemed to enjoy the reactions and emotions of others, studying them the way an artist would their newest masterpiece, which was probably why he purposely annoyed everyone every now and then.
So as Sakura fastened her cloak around her chest and adjusted her pouches on her hips one last time, idly listening to Okami relay their travel formation with his squad, she was only obscurely unsettled when the team of Iwa-nin actually approached her.
"Oi, Haruno," Deidara called, prompting her to turn around.
From her peripherals, she noticed the minute stiffening of Okami's silhouette and the twist of the shadows that stretched across his mask, but beyond that, he didn't so much as skip a breath in his speech. Still, Sakura knew he was watching her. He was always watching her, because for some reason, the Anbu Captain did not like Deidara.
The tension between the two of them had been suffocatingly thick these past few days, more so than when they all first met, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Maybe it was selfish of her, but some insanely dangerous part of her liked how riled up her captain had become. When Deidara turned his attention to her, Okami-taichou made a point to brush his shoulder against hers as he walked by, the knuckles of his fingers grazing against her side, her arm, the underside of her wrist. Or when she knelt over Deidara, hands aglow with soothing chakra, running over the scars carved into his skin, Sakura felt the sharp smolder of Okami's gaze on the back of her neck, trailing feather-light kisses along her shoulders and whispering promises against her skin.
The sheer possessiveness her captain displayed for her, made Sakura feel incredible.
She liked his attention—loved it, actually—because whenever she did catch his gaze, the grin painted on his mask would sharpen into something absolutely carnal, and it made her stomach flutter with the anticipation of what was to come.
Crossing her arms to hide her growing titillation, Sakura shifted her weight to her right leg. "What, Deidara?"
He shuffled on his feet, his jaw clenched and his glare looking everywhere but at her. He reached for his hair, likely out of habit, and traced his fingers along the braid nestled in it. Then, after an almost awkward moment of fidgeting, Deidara finally raised his hands and balled them; he pressed the knuckles of his fists together, fingers facing him and elbows locked, then bowed with his gaze to the ground—a formal gesture of Iwagakure. Akatsuchi mimicked him, and when Kurotsuchi made no move to budge, Deidara reached up and clutched the kunoichi's vest, forcing her into a crumpled semblance of a bow despite her indignant huff.
"Thank you for your assistance, hmm," He grunted as he straightened to full height.
Had she been expecting that, Sakura would've snickered at how uncomfortable he appeared and waved him off, but since she didn't, all she managed to do was falter over her words. "Y-yeah—you're welcome."
The blond clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes before outstretching his arm—the sleeved one—towards her. Sakura hesitated, a suspicious glance flickering from Deidara's proffered hand to his face, but at the insistent jerking of his arm, she took it, only to find the body of a scroll separating their palms. She enclosed her fingers around it, but didn't pull away; he didn't either.
"So the rest of the flock doesn't bother you. You know, in case you're ever in my neighborhood," He simply said, his tone just as pedestrian as usual. Deidara released the scroll at her nod, then began walking away, only to halt a few steps out. He turned back to her with an appraising glint in his visible stormy eye. "The Tsuchikage will remember this, hmm."
A smirk tugged at Sakura's lips as she studied the bronze spades at the ends of the scroll, her thumb running over the ocean blue cord that sealed it. She considered thanking him, but knew Deidara would just dismiss it with a grimace, so she instead teased him, "Don't think that this means I'm paying for your drink."
He scoffed, "Cute." He went on to say something else—"If anything, you owe me a little more than a drink, birdie."—but his eyes flickered away, glancing at something a ways behind her, before returning to her a little more narrowed. Sakura resisted the urge to tense, slowly but casually depositing the scroll into her right pouch. Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi had backed off a fair distance from them, looking every bit as indifferent as they had been, if not slightly more focused. Behind her, Sakura could vaguely hear the gradual shift in her Anbu squad's movements as their light footsteps gradually turned silent.
Lifting her chin, Sakura inhaled through her nose, the edge of her tongue pressing against her upper lip.
Her lips tasted like blood.
Cobalt orbs met hers then, conveying a silent message that the haze obscured. He dipped his head slightly, raising a hand to push away the bangs that curtained his face, and with that movement, the mouth on his palm parted and expelled what appeared to be a handful of tiny cranes. At the same time, Sakura pinched her knuckles around a few shuriken; she held her breath, counting, waiting, and then, as if in sync, Sakura planted her left hand on Deidara's shoulder, pushing him aside whilst pitching a flurry of shuriken while he released his birds.
The songs of battle drummed around her in the forms of sword against sword and struggles in dirt. Her shuriken made a home in an unknown nin's chest, downing him and hindering another, while small explosions nipped at the back of her neck. The ground rattled as stone spikes erupted from the ground around Kurotsuchi while Akatsuchi used Doton to swallow their attackers down to the neck. Genjutsu scented the air, glittering like threads of silk so thick, Sakura could snap them with her fingers.
Twirling on her heel to avoid an enemy's kunai, Sakura caught a glance of Nezumi and Inu engaging three shinobi in blue cloaks; she plucked the knife midair then fired it into the neck of a kunoichi that tried to get the jump on them. She didn't see Okami or Kitsune, but the whir of wire and the falling tree branches told her they were high in the trees.
A body suddenly appeared before her, proudly sporting gray and blue—Kiri again?
Taking a step back, Sakura jerked her head to the right to dodge the fist aimed at her face, then lifted the foot closest to her enemy, hooking it around his ankle and making him stumble. She spun on her heel, taking the man by the back of the neck, and flung him backwards onto the ground so fast, that the rest of his body flailed to keep up even as he hit the ground. Before he could even make an attempt to get up, Sakura delivered a swift kick to his head, knocking him out with a grunt.
"On your six!"
A clay bird zipped over her shoulder, its wings fluttering against her cheek tauntingly. The creation smacked into the face of the man behind her and adhered to it, swallowing his panicked shouts. The man clawed at his face, trying desperately to scrape the sticky bird from his person as he stumbled back against his partner, and with a single seal from Deidara, the bird detonated, ensnaring both shinobi in its carnage. Tossing a glance at Deidara, Sakura nodded in thanks; he acknowledged it with a huff and set off another explosion all the way across the remnants of their camp, disappearing into the resulting smoke.
"Haruno!" Hearing her name, Sakura whirled around. Kitsune dropped down beside her with his tanto, dripping with blood, drawn before him. "Stay close."
She ducked beneath another shinobi's incoming punch whilst pushing it to the side with her left hand; she twisted her wrist so she could grip the man's arm, whipping him around just as Kitsune angled his tanto sideways, impaling the man through the throat. "Right, because I was totally going to wander off," She huffed, haughtily.
Using his foot to dislodge his sword from the gurgling Kiri-nin while also placing himself between Sakura and a kunoichi with a sword, Kitsune grunted but didn't respond to her sarcasm. There were twelve enemies darting around the clearing, five of which wielded swords, outnumbering their combined team of eight. Two of them worked in tandem, their katanas connected by a long, barbed chain that they used to try to entrap Deidara with while three attacked Akatsuchi in sporadic, unorganized movements and a kunoichi took on Kurotsuchi. Nezumi and Inu had disappeared, most likely joining Okami in the trees, leaving two bodies behind in their stead.
"Let's go!"
A powerful burst of chakra reverberated through the clearing, whipping at her back and seeping into her clothes like a torrential rain. She whirled around with a stumble just as a large white owl appeared in a suffocatingly thick plume of smoke, crushing a Kiri-nin that couldn't scramble away fast enough beneath its weight. Deidara hopped onto the creature, a hand reaching out to help Kurotsuchi onboard while Akatsuchi leapt onto the bird's back. Mighty wings flapped, causing all of the shinobi surrounding it stumbling, and then it rose high into the air, disappearing into the sky moments later.
"Those fuckers ditched us," Sakura hissed to herself as Kitsune steadied her on her feet just as Inu, Nezumi and Okami appeared. They surrounded her the way they would the Hokage, their backs pressing against her shoulders and the mountains of her fists, creating a barricade that not even the wind could get through, and it would've been a lie if she said a small part of her didn't enjoy the way it made her feel.
"Are you really that surprised?" She heard Inu grumble from her right, the full-length katana in his hand twirling over his wrist in anticipation.
"Quiet," Okami, who took up her immediate front, hissed, stepping back a little closer into her form as the Mist-nin slowly stalked towards them. She couldn't hear everything the surrounding shinobi said, but from what Sakura could make out, Deidara and Kurotsuchi had been their initial targets—"But the Hokage's apprentice will have to do."
End Flashback
There was something so incredibly gratifying in knowing he had pretty, little Haruno Sakura so wound up.
Seeing her shuffle around her kitchen in faux indifference, acting as if she wasn't anxiously waiting for him to appear—waiting for him to fuck her—was every bit as amusing as it was flattering. So for a while, he just watched.
He watched as she poured herself another shot, idly swirling the sake dish a few times before bringing it to her lips, and wondered what mint she would taste like. He watched as she bowed over the counter again, her fingers swimming through her hair in a way that conveyed her building frustration, and when she tugged at her own locks, groaning, Shisui fought to resist the shiver that clawed at his back.
His stomach fluttered as he studied the incurve of Haruno's hips, imagined his fingers painting violets into them. In a few minutes, it would be his hand combing through those petal pink strands, his hips pressed against hers—his cock in her mouth—all while she peered up at him with those salacious wildfires she called eyes. Absently, Shisui's arm shifted on its perch above his knee, and he lazily ran a hand along the front of his pants. His member twitched in response to his light touch, coaxing a huffed breath past his lips, so he gripped himself a little more firmly, picturing her more feminine fingers in place of his own.
He let his lashes lower with a broken sigh, lower lip taken by his teeth, and replayed every single moan he had tore from her, reimagined every mile of land she had demolished and every bone she broke with those disceptively dainty hands.
Flashback
Shisui had always respected the ninja born out of Kirigakure.
They were beastly opponents with insatiable appetites for death. And they were tough—and he meant tough, not in the way the Iwa sheep liked to think themselves—and bloodthirsty, resilient. They weren't the type to back down from a fight regardless of their opponent, even if it was the most logical thing to do, and it was that perverse resilience that made them a real pain in the ass. Sure, they weren't exactly the sharpest kunai in the set, and they didn't have much control over their tongues, but those were all things he could look past.
What he couldn't look past, however, was the arrogantly callous way the pair with the cropped, white hair and lilac eyes regarded Haruno—as if she were second best. And to the Tsuchikage's apprentice, no less!
Initially, Shisui was going to send her off or teleport her away from the battle, but after that comment, well, who was he to stand in the way of a woman and her honor? She was the Hokage's apprentice, her legacy, and the disciple of their village's next leader. By that description alone, Haruno was considered one of the village's most important citizens. So to brush her off as something lowly, was a fucking insult to her, their Hokage, and to him.
One look at Haruno's miffed reflection in his sword told him she wouldn't have left without a fight, anyway.
He would give it to them though—they nearly caught him off guard. Normally, such a heavy fog would've been a dead giveaway to their appearance, but as luck would have it, the forecast called for a bit of gloom. If not for the fact that the mist born out of Kirigakure tasted like blood and betrayal waiting to happen, Shisui might have never noticed.
He clicked his tongue in frustration. A mist this dense could only be the work of a Swordsman.
"Ah, so you're the one who roughed up Kisame-senpai," One of the brothers appraised, hefting his massive broadsword over his shoulder. "I heard you killed Zabuza-senpai, too, a long time ago."
The second brother rose from his crouched position, mirroring the first in stance but still retaining an admiring glance over Haruno. "Suigetsu, stay focused."
Hearing the name, Shisui silently cursed to himself. Suigetsu was an accomplished member of Kirgakure's elite squad of Swordsmen, apparently possessing a unique Kekkei Genkai that proved to be quite an annoyance on the battlefield, and if he was here, that meant the other Swordsman was his elder, even more formidable brother, Mangetsu.
Everyone knew one Swordsman was a challenge. Two was a death wish.
Harrumphing, Suigetsu reached for the canteen secured to his hip, then began swirling it with a loose wrist. "Lighten up, Aniki. I wasn't going to kill her. I have more restraint than that," He admonished, rolling his eyes and moving to take a large gulp of his bottle. He paused just as the rim of his canteen pressed against his lips, and his eyes took on a feral, cat-like sharpness that made chills wind up the fissures of Shisui's spine. "I was just going to take one of her arms."
Barring his teeth, Shisui inwardly scoffed. He'd like to see that Cod try.
He felt Haruno shift behind him, straightening out of her defensive stance and cocking a hip. His heart sped up in anticipation as he felt her chakra roiling with warning, seeping deeply into the ground and twisting into the mist. It was filled with such surprisingly dark intent, and when Shisui drew his tongue across his lips, he could taste the displeasure that darkened her aura. But unlike the last time she flared her chakra, her wrath was unrestrained and genuine, powerful even without the strength of her seal.
"Come and try it," Haruno goaded, punching her right fist into her palm. And with the impact of the gesture, her chakra exploded, lashing out at his skin and tangling in his hair, coaxing his chakra into dancing with hers.
The Kiri-nin stood in place for a breath, forefronted by the white-haired brothers who seemed to be calculating their chances or conjuring up a strategy with a shared, pleased glance. Their heads canted to the side in an eerie sync, tongues drawing over the points of their teeth in taunt. Then, slowly, the pair took a few, confident steps back, completely melting into the miasma, followed soon after by the rest of their gam.
For a whole, uneasy minute, all was still, tense, silent—the perfect hunting grounds for sharks.
Warily, Shisui encouraged his chakra to seep into the mist but before it could intertwine with the air, he felt it—the mocking caress of wind against blade.
Shisui brought his tanto up, turning it sideways and bracing the edge of the blade against his left palm to block a katana from above, then sent his enemy stumbling back with a strong push kick to the stomach. He adjusted his grip on his sword, rotating it into a reverse hold, then back-slashed at the nin, who shrugged back. He twirled his sword back over his wrist, blade out and fingers towards him, his left hand set against the kashira, then drove it into the shinobi's shoulder.
Manicured nails licked at the back of his neck, coaxing a soft breath of surprise from his lungs, and then Shisui felt the collar of his shirt tug against his throat, guiding him a step back just as a shuriken carved into the snout of his mask. Instinctively, he plucked the well-camouflaged, metal star from the air and whirled around to pitch the weapon over Haruno's shoulder, indifferent over whether or not it made a home in someone.
Even though the contact hardly lasted longer than a second, and even as the battle raged on around him, gradually pulling his squad away from his immediate reach, Shisui could feel the warm prickle of Haruno's chakra seeping into his skin, nipping at the base of his neck and murmuring impish promises along his spine. It wasn't intentional, he knew—just residual, untamed chakra that spilled out without her permission, but perhaps it was that raw candidness that made her touch all the more endearing? With the softest purr he could manage, Shisui sunk his teeth into his lower lip in response to the familiar heat that pooled below his navel, not exactly unwelcome, but troublesome at the very least.
A ringed katana dug into the bracer of his left arm next, opening up his opponent's guard just enough for Shisui to drive his tanto into his chest. As he removed his blade, Shisui loosened his grip, making his weapon swing down and back into a reverse position, smoothly and abruptly lodging into the lower back of the Kiri-nin Haruno had shoved towards him. She yanked the man off of his sword, tossed him across the field as if he were little more than an ill-placed pebble, then with one rough—"Jump!"—in warning, her fist sunk into the ground.
All at once, Shisui felt her chakra fertilize the soil, coating every thread of grass and every fallen pine cone in pure, destructive chakra; and it rippled, menacingly vibrating beneath his feet in that split second before he leapt. He only had moments to trill to his team, but admittedly, all of his attention was on Haruno—on the satisfied smirk that tugged at the edge of her lips and the pleased pep in her step as the earth blossomed around her.
But as much as Shisui would've loved to watch her take control of the land and make those Codfish choke on their words, he had a job to do.
And he wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity to dance with Jonin Haruno.
He launched his tanto in the medic's direction, spearing it into the ground at her feet. His fingers fluidly moved through a series of seals, evoking a different, but similarly comfortable river of fire in his navel. It unfurled within him, floating up the fissures of his spine and curling around in his chest. His shoulders stiffened, his spine curved back, and then flames bloomed from the snarling maw of his mask. Wild at first, the golden inferno screeched, illuminating the darkness of the sky and licking at the tips of his fingers as he fought to tame its feral dance, until it finally wove under the spell it was sparked into.
An ophidian dragon roared, its long barbels flittering and dripping molten emerald-tinged droplets, and fiery claws digging into into what remained of the ground as it gracefully serpentined its way through the clearing, setting everything it touched ablaze. Uncaring for his creature's raging warpath, Shisui dropped back into place beside the rosette, arm raised to guard against yet another sword just as it came down upon her from the right. Almost immediately, the flat of her boot pressed against his left hip, using him as a foothold so she could vault off of him and into the arms of her enemy. She hooked her knee around his arm and grasped his neck with the crook of her elbow, using the momentum to take him down to the ground and snapping his neck with the abrupt jerk of her arm.
At the same time, Shisui knocked his opponent away with a push-kick to the chest, then followed up with a series of jabs, skirting under the notched blade that cleaved away at him. He batted the weapon away with the backs of his bracers, allowing it to carve its taunts into the metal, and bypassed the swordsman's guard with a quick succession of elbows to the chest. Finally, Shisui slammed a palm into his throat, sprinting back towards Haruno without waiting for the choking shinobi to recover.
He could feel the faint pulsations of her chakra with every punch she fired and every kick she executed, brushing against his skin so lightly, that he could have mistook it for the wind. And each time she got a little too close, and he had to duck away to avoid the friendly fire, he could vaguely feel his chakra reacting to hers, seeking her out without his permission.
But then the aroused spell was broken by the cascading rain that blanketed the night with an extra layer of oppressing darkness. Only the flames of his roaring dragon remained to guide them, but a minute later, that too sizzled out, along with the warmth of Haruno's chakra. Clicking his tongue, Shisui encouraged his Sharingan to activate, only for the red sheen of his vision to fade away within a blink, and for a moment, he panicked. His eyes shot towards his teammates where he saw the quick scarlet flicker of their own Sharingan dying away. Experimentally, he formed a few seals for another fire technique, but the flames that he summoned hardly burnished brighter than that of a match before dying out completely.
He tsk'ed. Kirisame—one of Kirigakure's more annoying hidden techniques—was able to absorb the chakra of anyone caught in it, which meant that Ninjutsu and Genjutsu weren't viable options for him. However, that also meant that the Kiri-nin wouldn't be able to utilize them much either.
And unfortunately for those Kiri-nin, his squad wasn't chakra reliant.
The clinking of metal caught his attention then, and when he canted his head towards Haruno, his lips quirked into the beginnings of a grin. "You're not going to dismiss me again, are you, Taichou?" She asked, with a challenging lilt to her tone that summoned a bark of a laugh from his throat. Glinting steel was curled around her right fist, limp in her left. She whisked the chain, maneuvering on her feet in a way that made the weapon flick out towards him. He caught it at the tail end of its swing, wrapping it around his knuckles and giving an impish, but meaningful, tug.
Feeling a little daring himself, Shisui cast a cautious glance at his teammates, considering the distance between them, then lowly purred, "Not if you can keep up, Haruno."
"I don't need chakra to use my strength," She hummed in response, rolling her head from side to side with a menacing crack. "And I don't need chakra to kick their asses."
Shisui grinned beneath his mask as the aroused embers in his stomach flashed again, compounding into tightly wound coils, then rolled his shoulders in anticipation. He adjusted his stance into something wider, more stable, and with one transitory, affirming glance, Shisui pivoted on his feet, casting her out and away from him, using her as his weapon.
Haruno rammed her shoulder into the chest of their next opponent: Suigetsu. Not having expected her to have noticed him, Suigetsu hummed appraisingly and sheathed the blade of his sword into the earth to keep himself upright. Sprinting forward, Shisui pushed Haruno's shoulders down and rolled over her back, stealthily fishing a kunai from her pouch, and delivered a forward roundhouse that sent the Swordsman stumbling back. He flickered behind Suigetsu, fisting the back of his vest and instinctively pitching the stolen kunai to deflect one flying towards Itachi. Haruno darted forward and past the nin, her kusari-fundo pulled taunt. Noticing, Shisui secured his end of the chain around his elbow, then kicked Suigetsu's knee out from under him, allowing the chain to catch against his throat. Suigetsu's hands shot up to his neck, nails digging at the chain but he and Sakura strained against him, refusing to give him an edge.
But then Suigetu's struggling ceased all at once, his hands dropping to his sides, then he grinned, proudly displaying his sharp teeth. "Well that could've been bad," He taunted as the chain phased through his skin. Suigetsu twisted on his knees and raised his arm towards Haruno, thumb and forefinger extended. His arm jerked, wrist locked and fingers twitching, then water shot from his fingertip.
Thinking quickly, Shisui whipped the chain forward, launching Haruno away just as some upturned shards of earth ruptured in her place. He clicked his tongue, shifting to accommodate the tug of the kusari as his partner came to a stop behind him. In those few moments, Suigetsu managed to reclaim his Kubikiribocho and was rushing him again, but this time, with more fervor.
Shisui deftly wove in and out of Suigetsu's attacks, shrugging back and twisting, relying on the muscle memory of all the battles recorded by his Sharingan to keep him uninjured. Feeling a major slack in the chain, Shisui bowed forward, ducking the wide back-swing of Suigetsu's next strike, allowing Haruno to vault over his back. The brief weight of her hand against the shoulder of his armor stroked something dangerous within him, something absolutely primal that only grew more incensed as the Cod stumbled back from her unexpected kick. As soon as she had rooted herself, Haruno spun on her heel, stringing along a back-kick that Suigetsu blocked with the flat of his blade.
And when Haruno said she didn't need her chakra to use her strength, she wasn't lying.
While nowhere near as devastating as what he had seen from her before, her kick made the steel crack upon impact—a feat that made Suigetsu curse—"Oh shit!"—and put distance between them. Unwilling to let Suigetsu move any further, Shisui forced his chakra into a flicker, appearing on the other side of the Swordsman and tugging Haruno forward. Suigetsu positioned the blunt edge of Kubikiribocho against the back of his neck and twisted on his heels, dropping to his knees and re-extending his sword at the tail end of his spin so Shisui couldn't get close, and so he could brace his blade against his palm, forcing Haruno to coat the soles of her boots in chakra as she landed on its edge.
She kicked off of the weapon with a grunt, releasing a shaky breath as what little chakra she likely had left immediately melted away.
Ignoring the reprimanding burn of his chakra, Shisui flickered behind her before she could stumble. He wrapped an arm around her waist, maneuvering her behind him to block the powerful, downwards strike of Suigetsu's sword with his bracer, then dove under the next swing so he was behind him once again. In concert, the two of them stitched combinations together, forcing Suigetsu into more defensive maneuvers, using the kusari to keep one another so close, that he couldn't extend for a swing, as well as pull each other out of the way when he did manage to break through their strategy.
And while there were clear flaws in their teamwork, Shisui had to admit that it was so easy to fall in place beside Haruno. They moved well together, complimented each other's movements and dancing in and out of divagated sword strikes and daggers from both comrade and enemy alike, but somehow still managed to find one another through the chaos.
He met her eyes then—tempered steel melting against malachite—and for the briefest of moments, he saw the beginnings of an intoxicated wildfire and barbed innuendos. Her thumb flicked kittenishly against the tip of her nose, her forward hand waving at the furious Suigetsu in challenge—and fuck did it make his chest tighten.
Maybe it was the thrill of the fight that riled him up so much, because seeing her slip into Suigetu's guard, her thighs locked tight around his neck, it shouldn't have made his cock twitch. But it did.
And when she found her way to his abandoned tanto, used it to carve a bloody mess into the Kiri-nin's thigh, it shouldn't have made him want to pick her up and push her against a tree, ravish her throat with his tongue, his lips, his teeth. But it did.
And when she leapt off of Suigetsu's sword, impaling his tanto into the ground beside him so he could pick it back up, he shouldn't have wanted to reward her—to tangle his fingers in those pretty, pink locks of hers and pull, just the way she liked.
He was so hard for her right now, and that shouldn't have even been a thing because the line between work and foreplay was gradually becoming a fine one. But it was.
And honestly, he didn't completely mind.
End Flashback
It was when she jumped onto the counter, that he finally appeared.
She hadn't even completely settled onto it before she felt his hips between her knees, his fingers bearing purchase at the back of her neck and—her breath shattered.
He was already hard for her.
"You're late, Taichou," She chastised, teasing in how she curled her tongue around his rank, yet already breathless.
Behind the mask, Shisui huffed with laughter, twisting her hair around his knuckles and yanking in reprimand. "I'm a busy man, Haruno."
She responded with a snort, but didn't comment on it further, too engrossed in the thumb that rubbed soothing circles into the nape of her neck. Sakura canted her head back, gazing at the Anbu Captain with caliginous eyes so full of unfiltered want, wordlessly challenging him with the edge of her tongue against her lips.
At the kittenish display, Shisui growled, lowly, his hips rolling against her thigh with intent. "Remember that you started this, Sakura." Her name rolled off of his tongue pleasantly, and he reveled in the way her lusty gaze glittered with approval. "You say red," He paused, the fingers of his other hand feathering up her thigh, her hips, her arms, evoking goosebumps along her skin. "And this stops."
Sakura hummed in response, more focused on entangling her fingers in his inky curls. She tugged, roughly, greedily, making him grunt and tilt his head back to accommodate, but he didn't mind.
Fuck, he didn't mind at all.
"You say yellow," Shisui slipped his hand beneath the hem of her top, stroking just above her hips with the backs of his knuckles. He met her eyes, biting down on his lower lip as he caught the dark starlight in her stare. "I'll back off."
He made a show of things, reaching into his pouch and fishing out a slip of paper detailed with seals. He slapped it into the counter beside her, smoothed it out with slow, meaningful strokes, then formed a lightning seal—a sound suppressor.
Shisui snapped his hips forward, grinding against the heat between her thighs with a wicked smirk. "I want to hear every little sound you make. Do I make myself clear?"
Sakura reached for his vest with a hum, curling her fingers around the straps over his shoulders; she gripped them tightly and yanked on them, forcing him to stumble into her. Shisui grunted less at the roughness, and more so at the undeniable throbbing of his cock. He'd been waiting for this—dreaming of this—for far too long.
"Say it."
Her responding, drawn out moan—"Yes, Taichou."—was devastating.
He took hold of her hips with bruising force, then pulled her to the edge of the counter, groaning in encouragement when he felt her knees tighten against his waist; and once he had all of her against all of him, he lifted his mask just enough to purr into the underside of her jaw, "Good girl."