The Gate Amidst the Ivy

Chapter Eight

(Sakura-chan, I heard that when a boy and a girl care for each other very deeply, they give each other kisses!

What? Really?

Uh-huh! And I thought that maybe since we care for each other so much—

You want to try it, Naruto?

Yep, exactly!

Two smiles, between two friends who absolutely trusted each other. They leaned closer—it was awkward—his nose bumped against hers, and when their lips finally met, their kiss was slightly off-center, so that they had to readjust their positions—

So what did you think, Sakura-chan? Two blushes.

It was… nice…

An understand smile. But not nice enough, neh, Sakura-chan?

Yes, that's right.

Okay! Anyways, so I had the coolest idea for today…)

Sakura needed to escape. She needed her garden, her garden, not Ino's, but that garden was several hours away, in one of the side castles, much too far away…

She'd chosen to wear her light pastel green gown made of silk. It did compliment her eyes beautifully, she'd decided. And blue was the in color of the season, it seemed—half the ladies were wearing some variation of blue, and Sakura was relieved that something about her stood out.

Ino was wearing another sunshine-yellow gown, but this one had frilly hoop skirts and topaz embroidery. Her shining blonde hair was done up in a ridiculously complicated design. As required of her duty as a handmaiden, Sakura followed Ino about, her faithful shadow, serving Ino and introducing her to the other nobles. But still there was the tension between them, the trust-not-quite-trust of two close friends in a horrible argument. Sakura said nothing to Ino beyond what was required in company, and Ino returned the favor.

She noticed the other ladies staring coyly, acidly at Ino from behind their fans. Surely they were wondering exactly what relation Ino had with Prince Sasuke, to have actually been sponsored and then introduced to the court by the Uchiha family. Already she'd heard cruel rumors about Ino that the noble ladies had been propagating, rumors that she was his mistress or that she was with his child or that she had found some way to blackmail him. From the dimming of her cornflower blue eyes, Sakura could tell that Ino heard these discreet rumors, or at least suspected their existence, but she still could not find it in herself to cheer up the blonde girl. She didn't know if she ever could.

She'd found out something new. It seemed handmaidens were expected to mingle as well, if only among the other minor nobles. She had already been asked to several waltzes, though most were pompous, balding old men who thought they could impress a poor naïve servant with their impressive-at-first-glance, if unsubstantiated, titles. Mostly she spent her time faithfully and diligently, if distantly and coldly, attending to Ino.

And now she needed to escape. The crush of bodies in the fancy ballroom, opulently dressed ladies and garishly made-up gentleman dandies, disgusted her. Their perfumes and colognes drifted together, meshed together in a revolting smell that made her faint. Perhaps Ino noticed the pinkette's almost-panic, because she discreetly excused herself to "go powder her nose" and left Sakura free to her own devices.

(Sakura…

Yes, my Lady Ino?

A wounded look. I—I'm going to go—powder my nose and—adjust my makeup. You are free to your own devices for the next hour or so.

Thank you for your generosity, my Lady Ino.)

Sakura had noticed Sasuke throughout the ball—though always out of the corner of her eye, always near Ino but never close to her. He deigned to dance with certain ladies, though only of course the daughters of dukes and viscounts, and awed important dignitaries and merchants. She needed to escape his oppressive presence, the feeling of his eyes boring into her back—or Ino's back?

So she had gone out a side door. The butler had given her a strange look but did not comment, for which she was grateful. She found herself in one of the small, perfectly managed gardens to the side of the castle. It was not quite her garden, but it was a garden nonetheless. And it was outside, away from the press of bodies and grating laughter.

She stroked the petals of a particularly large flower, silvery white in the moonlight but soft as the velvet of her gown. Softer, perhaps. Even now, she was relaxing. There was always something about flowers that relaxer her.

"Hey, guys," she whispered. "I know you're not the garden. But I need to complain, and here you are. I hate parties like these stupid balls," she confided. "I've never gotten used to them."

(Gods, I hate parties like these!

Naruto, don't be impolite!

Hey! You hate them too, Sakura-chan!)

There was the rustle of wind, and Sakura shivered at the slight cold.

She looked up from the flower—and noticed someone else. "Oh—I—I'm sorry to disturb you, good sir," she said hurriedly. What had he heard? Had he heard anything at all? And oh, how stupid of her! To be caught outside, unchaperoned, with an unknown male—that was the stuff of scandal! She'd be the talk of the week! That was exactly what Ino did not need—and Sakura herself would be banished in disgrace, back to Castle Konoha—back to her friends…

Sakura shook herself at the sudden longing in her thoughts.

The figure turned around. Sakura first noticed his impassive eyes, then his chiseled nose, his almost sinful lips, his dark hair. Her eyes widened—

"Your Most Gracious Excellency," she curtsied low. "Forgive me for disrupting your peace. I will take my leave immediately—"

"I know you," he interrupted, looking at her imperiously.

"Ye-yes," stammered Sakura. "I am the chosen handmaiden of the newly introduced Lady Ino—"

"From Castle Konoha," continued Sasuke. He stepped forward, closer to her, drinking in her appearance as though he was thirsty. "The healer."

Sakura set her shoulders but looked down. "Yes, the healer."

"Sakura," he said in his silvery voice, his voice like mercury.

She looked up in shock at him. He had added a certain stress, an accent to her name, that made her innocent name sound positively sinful on his lips. She… liked? enjoyed? disliked? … it.

His lips twitched upwards a bit, but not in a smile. A smirk that promised dark things. She could imagine this man commanding thousands of troops—and he must have, hadn't he? He was the commander in chief of the Konoha army, after all.

He took another step closer to her. They were only a foot apart. "I must say, Sakura," he told her lowly, "I've been quite intrigued by you."

"Really," evaded Sakura. "How interesting. I assure you I'm not a very intriguing person."

"You are a healer. There are precious few of those around. And… you have such a fascination with plants. You wouldn't happen to know of a certain garden at Castle Konoha, would you? It's been locked up for a while. It still should be, but it seems someone has found her way into it anyways. I found a most interesting item in it during my last visit… can you guess what it is?"

He knew. Oh gods. He knew. Sakura stared up at him in terror, at his eyes that were like black shards of steel. Her mouth opened to confess everything, to beg his forgiveness—then she closed it again. He knew something. That much was obvious. But how much did he know? If he thought Ino had been lying, then he wouldn't have accepted her elaborate charade… would he?

She opened her mouth again, then licked her dry lips. She was briefly unnerved by how his eyes seemed to zero in on the motion, how they became almost molten instead of like cold steel. "I don't know what you're talking about, good sir. I understand that the introduction of Lady Ino to the court had something to do with some sort of garden. You'll have to ask her if you have any questions about it. I fear I am entirely ignorant about it—" Her thoughts, any denials she had invented in her head, derailed completely when she looked up to notice him closer than ever before, when she noticed his eyes getting closer and closer to hers—

He kissed her. Sakura froze in the shock of it, then let out a strangled little moan she had never made in her life. His lips slanted over hers, demanding everything she had to give. There was nothing romantic about the kiss at all. It was pure dominance, unadulterated and in its most savage form. He was taking and taking and taking and taking so much, and he refusing to give anything in return. She felt his tongue tracing her lips, ordering entrance, not requesting it. She was dimly aware of his arms coming around her waist, like hot steel, trapping her there. She was crushed against him, ensnared by him. His lips continued to move against hers, nipping and molten, until all she could do was let out a shuddering breath and give into his exploration. Almost triumphantly, his tongue plunged into her mouth, and Sakura melted like butter against him. She was glad his arms were crushing her to him—otherwise, she would have collapsed then and there. This was a man who used seduction for a weapon as skillfully as he used a sword—

Her tongue met his shyly, almost innocently, but then again there was nothing innocent about this kiss—nothing innocent about that unfamiliar tugging in her lower belly. Yet almost immediately the tone of the kiss changed with Sakura's tentative contact. Sasuke let out a soft groan, and Sakura worked up the courage to bring her arms up his chest, to wrap them around her neck and put her fingers in his soft dark hair, to stroke them as she'd secretly wanted to do since when they first met. The two of them fit together more intimately than ever before, more intimately than she'd thought possible between a man and a woman—they fit, and there was a closeness between them she had never experienced, ever, not even with the brief flirtations she'd indulged in with the boys from her village.

He was still taking from her, true, but now Sakura was taking as well. She refused to be dominated by him, giving and giving and never getting anything in return; yet Sasuke was reluctant to give anything of himself. They fenced furiously, both of them taking and demanding until the other had nothing else left to give up. She was clinging desperately onto him, his hands were buried in her hair…

Sasuke broke apart from her. Still caught in that red haze of pleasure, Sakura let out a low, keening, pleading mewl, a sound that would have made her blush if she had heard it from someone else. But now all she could think about was that wonderful completion with him, and all she wanted was more of it, moremoremoremoremore—She felt rather than heard his soft laughter at her obvious need that originated from his chest, pressed against her; and then he dipped his head and began to pepper kisses at the corner of her mouth, down her jawline, onto her neck. Her head lolled to the side, granting him access. She was almost ready to beg him to continue his sweet torture, just a little longer—

Sakura froze again. What was she doing? She was kissing Prince Sasuke—Prince Sasuke! A feeling almost like revulsion was filling her up. Was she really such a loose woman, a woman of such negligent morals that she would kiss the man to whom Ino was Bonded?

Perhaps Sasuke had sensed her mental retreat. He gave her a final kiss, right on her collarbone—she could feel his triumphant smirk against her soft skin—and stepped away. Sakura ignored the sudden feeling of loss she got from the absence of him and stumbled backwards.

"Why—what did you do that for?" she demanded breathlessly, her chest heaving. She was darkly pleased to notice that both of them were breathing hard.

"Pink hair, Sakura?" answered Sasuke instead. The shadows pooled sinisterly in his face—his expression could almost be called a smile, but it was only a foreboding imitation of one.

"P-pink…" Sakura trailed off and realized with dawning horror that her head felt suspiciously light, like the weight of her ever-present wig was absent…

He took a step forward. Sakura wanted to retreat, to take a step backward, to run back into the castle, to run away, but could not. Her legs refused to move. She could only stand there helplessly, ensnared by Sasuke's obsidian stare, darker than midnight. He took another step forward, another, another, until he was as close to Sakura as before, and throughout it all, she just could not move.

Sasuke leaned down again. Sakura flinched in renewed horror when she noticed herself leaning the slightest bit forward in response, and could not help her blush at Sasuke's knowing smirk. At least it was a smirk, an arrogant one reminiscent of Prince Sasuke the lazy noble, not the foreboding smile that was purely Prince Sasuke the dangerous general.

He kissed her cheek gently, a sinister imitation of the tender lovers' greeting. Some small logical part of Sakura still in possession of its logical faculties noticed she was trembling, and wondered how Sasuke felt about it, because surely he had noticed. Did he feel proud? Annoyed? Frustrated? Satisfied?

His mouth moved slightly more to the right, until she felt his hot breath puffing against the shell of her ear. Sakura stubbornly controlled her urge to retreat. Something like that would only give him satisfaction—and she had given him enough satisfaction for the night. Perhaps he thought it was amusing, to torment poor country girls like her so…

"Pink hair," he repeated softly. Against her ear, the hint of his lips against her skin was almost erotic. She wanted to close the distance between the two of them, wanted to revel in the feeling of his lips against hers once again. "A shocking discovery. I was expecting perhaps red hair…"

Sakura looked down at his other hand, which was grasped tightly around her wig. She licked her suddenly dry lips and whispered, "So that kiss… was to distract me…? While you removed my wig…?" Because of course that was what must have happened. While she was busy acting like a whore, a filthy whore, he had taken advantage of the opportunity, and now he knew…

He did not answer. He didn't need to. Sakura could feel the telltale stinging of her eyes. She whirled around furiously, turning her back to him. I should have known. I should have, she berated herself. After all, why would a prince like Sasuke kiss someone like her?

"How—how long have you known?" she demanded, once she was certain her voice wouldn't break. She hadn't the courage to face him, not yet.

"Since I found that wig."

She stiffened her shoulders. At the very least, she could use this disaster to strengthen Ino's story. "I was helping Ino. You can't bring a garden like that back to life by yourself, you know. Ino was the one who discovered it first," she lied blatantly. "I helped her with the healing magicks. I left my wig in there one day. And then when you took it, and you took my boots…" Sakura cut herself off abruptly, realizing that she was babbling.

Sasuke didn't answer her, but she could feel his skepticism in the air. It was galling. She needed to escape. She needed to breathe, and she couldn't do it here, not with him here. Thank goodness she was standing between him and the castle—she couldn't bring herself to walk past him, not now.

"I will be taking my leave now," she said coldly, walking away, not even giving him, the second highest authority in the land, the customary courtesy of a curtsey.

He let her walk a few paces before murmuring silkily, "Don't forget you wig, Sakura."

She stiffened even more at the sound of her name. He gave it a unique roll, a sensuous twist of his tongue that no one else ever had. Even now it elicited unwanted feelings. "Pl-please give it to me, then," she replied, still not turning around.

She heard his approaching footsteps. He stood directly behind her now, and Sakura could smell his unique scent—that of a high-end cologne, and another scent that was uniquely him. Steeling herself, she turned around to accept her wig.

She was unprepared for his closeness. He was so near to her that she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. They were burning, impermeable like black tar but searing nonetheless. His hand reached out and took a lock of her bright, innocently pink hair, stroking it in what was either disgust or fascination. Perhaps both. Their eyes still connected, he pulled the strand of her hair closer to his mouth and kissed it.

Sakura jerked her head away. Her hair slipped through his loose grip, and she retreated yet another step. She was doing far too much retreating today. "I thank you if you would return my wig, sir," she told him coldly, using the most distant language she knew.

Still entirely silent, he handed her her wig. She quickly donned it, adjusting it properly, almost relaxing at its comforting weight. By now she had gotten so used to wearing it that she felt exposed, entirely naked, without it.

Once it was safely on, she fled into the ball, losing herself in the dances and waltzes and gossip. She never saw Sasuke again for the entire night, and she was glad for it.

You will not believe how much research I put into that kiss scene. I've never written one before. I checked out five of the trashiest romance novels I could find from the library and did this total in-depth analysis of the common techniques used and which ones I liked best. It felt really awkward. And I was blushing while I was writing it, and it's not even that steamy compared to some of the scenes of FFnet. Oh god. I hope it wasn't awkward or anything.

Originally, I wasn't going to have the kiss until later on. But then I realized that Sasuke hadn't appeared for like the last four chapter, and I needed something big to make up to you guys for that, and the kiss scene just fit! So there you go. First kiss. Yay. Consider it your 200+ review present! See, reviews can make me generous. :D

Review! I updated so quickly because I couldn't believe that amazing response that I got! TWO HUNDRED REVIEWS! My first two hundredth review ever on FFnet! You guys pwn! –glomp- And I figured I might as well get this chapter out before finals, but now I hope you guys are happy because I'll have to stay up till two doing my math homework now. :P

Anyways, continue reviewing. Be a part of the golden cycle… ;D

Oh, and to whoever asked, I live in America.

published 1.11.10