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Covenant
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Synopsis: Four years into the Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru offers to turn.
He all but requests Sakura by name to be the contact.
It is, quite clearly, a trap—least of all because he's supposed to be dead.
But what is a losing side to do except take the hand that's offered?
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16. The Shiver
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WHEN THEY arrived back in base, they met Suigetsu in a large, open room on the first floor. The space was crowded and lively. Chairs and sofas arranged around the room in small circles. A lounging area.
She found it strange that an underground war base would house an oversized living room.
Suigetsu made a show of beckoning Sakura over, patting the stool beside his own. The dozen male shinobi grouped around him made way for her with smirks—but not before they all bowed with a practiced Uchiha-sama.
"This is Rei," Suigetsu announced, draping an arm around her shoulders when she sat to his left. "I picked her up in Wind."
Sasuke took a seat in a cushioned chair on her other side.
She was surprised that he'd steered them in here. They could've easily returned to the room to sleep. It was evening now, they'd traveled earlier, and he had to be tired from the training. No one would've found their retiring odd. Plus, Sasuke wasn't one for social interaction—and wasn't she supposed to avoid unnecessary attention?
The enemies contemplated her cloaked frame with curiosity and hunger. None of her features were visible, yet they coveted her because of Sugietsu's public interest. Typical.
"Can't see much with the hood," one grumbled.
Suigetsu laughed. "She's a bit shy. Part of the appeal, ain't it?"
Then he was tugging her hood off. Long, silky brunette hair slipped out around her face. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as she turned to a smiling Suigetsu. Purple twinkled playfully back. What was he doing? She held in the curses that would fly at him on any other occasion in favor of telepathically informing him what a colossal idiot he was.
A wave of unexpected fury consumed her, then blinked away. Controlled.
"Pretty, right?" Suigetsu asked the group.
The men's reactions were immediate. Most quickly dropped their gaze. Some cheeks dusted pink with shame. A couple curious stares evolved into longing, her youthful appearance not bothering them in the least—enticing them, even.
A shinobi across from her scoffed. "This is who you've been jabbering on about? You're sick."
"Sick? What's sick about it?" Suigetsu's arm fell back around her. "She's obviously gonna blossom into a beautiful flower."
The words of flattery were bizarre in Suigetsu's voice, and more than one man recoiled at his bold cajolery.
"That's called grooming," someone whispered to the shinobi beside him.
Sakura inwardly agreed. Her hands gripped each other in her lap so they wouldn't swing into Suigetsu's face. She understood it was for show, but the credibility of his acting was off-putting.
"Aren't you like twenty, dude?" another one asked.
"Twenty-one."
There was a collective grimace from all but two.
"You're sick," the first man repeated, nodding in her direction. "Looks younger than my daughter."
"She won't for long, considering your daughter's dead."
Sakura clenched her jaw against the gasp. Others were less successful. The air turned frigid—tensing her muscles into fight or flight despite it not being her conflict. Her stare burned a hole straight through her lap.
"Only sixteen, right?" Suigetsu plowed over the stunned silence. "How sad. Maybe if Iseto hadn't been so weak—"
A hand slammed into a coffee table. "Don't speak her name! Don't you fucking dare say her name, fish fucker!" the man bellowed, now on his feet. "Or is that what they called your whore mother when your worthless existence tore out of her?"
"Good one!" Suigetsu picked at his teeth with a pinky nail. "Never heard that before. Very original."
The man took a step in Suigetsu's direction; it'd be a fight, then. Sakura didn't blame him, either—Suigetsu deserved it. Hoping he got a good beating, she leaned toward Sasuke to escape the line of fire and give the man more space to cause damage.
"Enough. Take it outside or shut the hell up," Sasuke snapped, voice menacing.
The mandate halted the man's advance. His face was nearly purple with wrath. If looks could kill, Suigetsu would be a thousand scraps of meat and bone—though he was surely smirking beside her without care instead. She knew it without even seeing.
She had no idea his plan for this little scenario, but Suigetsu wasn't vile enough to start this whole thing solely to rile everyone up.
…Right?
Wrath contorted into something else across the man's face. Something deeper. Something haunting—a feeling Sakura was too intimately acquainted with to look upon. Her sights fell back to her lap just as the man turned to storm from the room, his own head ducked down.
Sometimes on the battlefield, the real battlefield, it was easy to think of the enemy as Other. These ninja forsook the ways of the shinobi world—fought those they grew up with and devastated the lands they'd once called home. Their side started the war—it was their fault the whole world was enduring this bloody, endless crusade.
When they cut down her allies and friends, it was natural to think of these men around her as less than human—as Other. As something wholly different than herself.
It certainly made killing them easier.
The reality was so much more nuanced.
Here, confronted with the truth, she couldn't pretend Madara's army weren't people just like her. They held different belief systems and made different choices, yes. But these shinobi were trapped on the same battlefield that haunted her back, somewhere far on the opposite side of the rotting corpses, as stuck and powerless as all the Allies.
Maybe they'd lost people to their village or their Kage, and it turned them to Madara in the first place. Maybe they'd been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and found themselves caged by Madara's overwhelming power.
Beyond the leaders she chose to follow, was there any tangible difference between herself and the man who lost his daughter?
Tenten materialized in his empty seat—she sensed the chocolate gaze coaxing her to meet it. Her heart stuttered, then took off like a falcon. She squeezed her eyes shut, begging Tenten to leave.
Not forever! she mentally shrieked. Don't leave forever! Just for now, Tenten. Please.
Tenten couldn't be here. Not in this enemy base. Not when Sakura absolutely couldn't break.
Tenten's voice was soft over the roar of the meeting hall—until we die or everyone we love dies. So we go and kill people who have loved ones of their own, hoping maybe it'll save our loved ones...
"You have to leave," Sakura whispered.
Suigetsu glanced at her. "Huh?"
...It's all pointless in the end. My whole team's dead, and no matter how many enemies I kill, they're never coming back... There was a dango skewer in front of her nose. These are your favorite, right?
Sakura's head jerked away from the food—and there she was. Sitting in the chair, the world slowed around her hazy form. Her kind chocolate eyes. The curve of her nose. Her full, pink lips curved in a stunning smile. The two buns atop her head.
Enchantingly 22 forever.
Looking Tenten head-on like this was taking a sword to heart. She choked on the ache that tore through her chest, a wound so fresh it seemed no time had passed at all.
I know Lee and Neji are waiting, and...
Sakura tumbled off her stool, gasping for air. She thrust herself away from the smiling Tenten, crawling backward like an injured crab on the stone floor. Tenten's eyes were oozing blood, her body slicing bits of itself off every second. She was half of herself, then a quarter, then nothing more than pieces—There is Tenten leaving forever.
"Take your pet back to its room already," Sasuke commanded. He cast her a bored glare as the seal buzzed—Calm down!
"Alright, alright." Suigetsu yanked her to her feet with a tight grip around her arm as she sucked in air and turned away from the phantom. The corner of Suigetsu's mouth lifted into a half-smirk. "Let's get some privacy then, little Rei."
Sakura allowed him to pull her from the room, her feet sluggish and clumsy. In the hallway, he released her arm and lifted the hood back over her head. They moved quickly through the winding tunnels, descending to the lower levels. Sakura measured her breathing and thought of medical jutsu.
"What was that about?" Suigetsu asked quietly.
She didn't answer right away. Was it better to lie or tell the truth? The truth might paint her crazy, but devising a lie was too much for the chunk of lead currently acting as her brain.
At least with Suigetsu, it probably didn't matter.
"I saw a dead friend," she admitted.
"Oh, you too? God, that shit gets in the way sometimes. I usually count things around me 'til they go away. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Was worse when I'd just woken up."
Sakura's brows rose. "You—you know what I'm talking about?"
"Sure." They turned a corner. "The hallucinations, right? Orochimaru says they're a common ailment in wartime."
Sakura watched his heels clip against the ground in front of her. She'd never spoken about this problem with anyone before—never spoke it out loud at all. So focused on keeping the dead at bay, she'd never considered why they plagued her in the first place.
For a moment, she wished Orochimaru was nearby to pick his brain about the diagnosis and treatment. Then she rebuked herself for the thought.
Their footsteps echoed in the empty halls.
"...Who do you see?"
"Really? You think I wanna talk about it?"
"You're right," said Sakura. "Sorry."
When they got to their rooms Suigetsu opened his door and held it for her.
She paused. "I'll just go to my own."
"Come inside and don't argue. I'm not getting yelled at or worse for leaving you alone."
She entered the room in awkward defeat.
The last time they'd been alone was months ago, in the dark forest that bordered field medical. Dead and unconscious shinobi haphazardly lay where they'd fallen from the trees behind them. Suigetsu had still been masked, then. Such a short time in the grand scheme of things, yet it felt like a lifetime ago in the war.
Sakura smirked at the memory as she glanced around the room. "Remember that time I kicked your ass?"
"Nope," he said, shutting the door behind him. "Never happened."
Suigetsu had gotten someone to summon a stone table and wall shelves by the bathroom door. Once she finished the short recognizance, Sakura turned and leveled the smirk directly at him.
"Yeah it did. In Sangosho."
He rolled his eyes so theatrically it could've rivaled Ino. "Oh my God, you're still on that? I stood there for like a minute straight—"
"Right, right."
"—with my arms crossed—"
"Uh huh."
"—not fighting back even a little bit—"
"Sure."
"—and let you wail on me! No real shinobi would consider that a fight!"
She hopped up to sit on the desk, her legs dangling. "Sounds like poor decision-making to me. No real shinobi would let an enemy hit them for over a minute."
In the next instant, he stood in front of her, the tops of his thighs brushing her knees. He lifted a lock of auburn hair between them, fiddling it in his fingers. Amethyst danced as he hovered over her smaller frame.
She leaned back with a frown.
"You should be more mindful of who you're teasing and where you're teasing them, kid. Do you understand the position you're in right now?"
Scowling, she reached out to shove his chest, only for her hands to sink through water. He chuckled and drew closer.
"Suigetsu, you can't be serious right now. Cut it out."
"You know, I'm picturing your true form as we speak, and..." He lifted her hair to his lips. "Well, the real thing would be better, but my imagination would do for now."
She pushed back on the table until she hit the wall, expression turning to a grimace. A lecherous grin revealed the sharp tips of his teeth, the red backdrop of his tongue outlining their brutal edge as it slid along their backs—a predator unhinging its jaws.
"Get the fuck away from me," she hissed. Using her enhanced strength inside the base was too huge a risk—it'd give her presence away immediately. Plus, the damage would probably crush her at this depth, and with the suppressors, she hadn't enough usable chakra to bring the place down and heal. But—it may be worth it if he didn't back off. She'd at least take him out in the process. "I mean it, bastard."
Suigetsu's cheeks puffed out, his eyes cinched, and he stepped back with a howl of laughter. Sakura deadpanned at the scene before her.
"Your personality is absolutely appalling. Has anyone ever told you?"
"You—Ha! You should've seen—hahah—your face!"
She loathingly watched him clutch at his stomach, unable to catch his breath. What an awful joke—not funny in the slightest.
In that moment, she thanked God Suigetsu was suppressed when they arrived—although God hadn't done much else for her as of late. Imagine if Sasuke had ordered her to stay in Suigetsu's room the whole time under the plan's guise! She shuddered at the thought.
"Oh, chill out. As if I'd ever do that for real. I enjoy living. Anyway, I'm gonna clean up. Entertain yourself." He chuckled his way into the shared bathroom.
The shower droned into life behind the door as she wondered what to do. Her bag and Sasuke's books were in the other room, and her nosying concluded that Suigetsu brought only clothes and weapon seals. It left her with her thoughts—which was dangerous in its own way.
Her mind groped for a topic to latch to, eventually landing on Naruto.
Naruto was always a safe space—as long as her mind didn't stray to why she couldn't be with him. As long as she didn't think of Tsunade, didn't think about how the last words she might ever hear him speak were a plea for her safety.
So she carefully navigated around what was permissible.
He hadn't replied to a letter in a couple of weeks, but with Gaara's recent assurance, she wasn't worried. Gaara wouldn't lie about Naruto's safety. The jinchuriki base went on frequent lockdowns, and secret correspondence with every base deployed was difficult. She was sure he'd write as soon as he could.
What would Naruto think about the situation she was in right now? Undoubtedly, he'd be yelling at her to get the hell out of here—and she'd bet her life strict orders were in place forbidding any news to him that she was trapped in an enemy base.
And what would he think about Sasuke? Did Naruto know Sasuke was alive yet?
There was no way the Kage could keep that intelligence from him forever. Naruto was privy to the large-scale battle debriefs—even Naruto could read between the lines well enough to connect the injuries and battle patterns to Sasuke's jutsu and fighting style. But, of course, maybe the Kage weren't fully reporting.
Sakura remembered the astonishment she'd felt learning Sasuke was alive. The overwhelming relief that he hadn't died a traitor. The suffocating hope she'd quickly shut down. The fragile excitement that Sasuke was on their side again. It wasn't fair to Naruto to hide this from him.
She resolved to tell him in her next letter. He deserved to know. A smile bloomed across her face at the thought of Naruto opening the letter and learning his brother wasn't dead. She imagined the way he'd shout and jump and probably lift Hinata from the ground in a bear hug. How he'd reply, I always knew he'd come back to us!
Sakura loved that quality of his the most: his unwavering faith in bonds. She may even tell him she was Sasuke's contact—how would Naruto respond to that?
Maybe something like, He better be keeping you safe, tell him I'm gonna kick his ass if not.
Or, I know you love him, but can't you give him a bit of a hard time for me?
Or maybe just, Bring him home.
She laughed at herself for that thought. Sakura Haruno bring Sasuke Uchiha home? The world would end before that happened.
But rather than letting it go, her brain examined the abstraction several times over. Technically the world was ending. And, well, something else was in the equation now, wasn't it? Something that tilted the odds in her favor.
Her seal thrummed like it knew she was thinking about it. It will make him more loyal to you, Tsunade promised.
A lightbulb went off in her head.
She boarded in Sasuke's room, and no one could enter without permission. There was nothing to do here except wait to leave—even Sasuke couldn't go as he pleased. Most importantly, he couldn't send her many places in this base without his accompaniment.
Would there ever be a better opportunity to complete the Hokage's mission?
A warm shyness swept through her. She was a Konoha kunoichi; obligation bound her to the Hokage's orders. It was easy to hide behind an assignment like that—easy to say it was a job like any other—but wasn't it also true that she wanted—
Sakura left the thought before a blush could bloom. If she was going to follow orders, she couldn't let her mind run wild. And regardless of the mission, Sakura was a damn good kunoichi. One of the best in the whole world. The Hokage had assigned her countless assignments she'd hated and countless she'd enjoyed—all completed with equal professionalism.
There was a knock. "It's me," came a muffled voice.
Sasuke.
She jumped from the desk and quickly opened the door, shaken by the satisfied feeling washing across her at his return.
Wait, no. She was supposed to be upset with him. The door opened to his expectant silhouette in the hallway.
He nodded for her to follow and opened his bedroom door for them. While they'd been gone, someone brought a second sleeping mat and laid it a few feet from the original. A tiny stone desk now carved out of the wall, much like Suigetsu's. Sasuke laid his sword atop it. The additions made the room feel even more cramped.
Seeing the careful way he unarmed himself, she suggested, "Why don't you lay down and let me finish healing?"
"Who's around?"
She pushed chakra through her feet into the ground. Suppressed as she was, the technique wasn't as effective as it typically would be. She couldn't discern specific chakra signatures and was certain the base was much larger than she could scan with her small amount of accessible chakra.
"A few people a corridor away."
"Mm." He turned to frown at the sleeping mats. "Since you're incapable of fully healing it there's no point." He stepped over them to knock on the bathroom door. Suigetsu had been running the shower for half an hour.
She sighed. Being physically able to heal him yet contextually unable to do so gave her heartburn. By oath, a medic wasn't supposed to leave injuries untreated if it was within their ability to help.
"Hurry up," Sasuke spoke at the door. The water shut off immediately.
"Give me fifteen," Suigetsu called back.
Sasuke turned to rummage through his pack. "What happened in the meeting hall?" he asked, his back to her, breaking the silence she'd thought would overtake the room.
With Sasuke, it absolutely mattered whether she told the truth or lied. He'd already seen one of her panic attacks and questioned her ability to perform the agreement. Honesty was risky, but she doubted whether a lie would fool him.
It was better to change the subject. "Why'd you take us there anyway? I thought the plan was not to draw attention."
"You're supposed to be Suigetsu's, but you can't be left with him outside of our rooms until his suppressor's removed."
Sakura hastily connected the points he left unsaid. "So you wanted him to escort me back here all along?"
"Aa. There'd be rumors if I brought you here without him."
She hummed in agreement. Leave it to Sasuke to be two steps ahead. His quick mind made her plan more complicated, though it seemed he was allowing her to sidestep his original question this time.
She pulled The History of Juinjutsu from her pack and settled on the floor with it.
The book was just a front—Sakura turned a page every 30 seconds for show while her mind worked. She'd already decided in Suigetsu's room: tonight, she would try Tsunade's way again. It was as good a time as any since he appeared in one of his talkative moods.
Well—talkative for Sasuke standards.
What was the best way to go about it?
She turned a page. Dictating the seal with thoughts had some success in the past, though it hadn't worked the last time she'd invoked this specific command. Unfortunately, no alternative option was jumping at her.
She thought, Kiss me, and forced it into the seal. Turned another page. Conjured images of people kissing and pressed those in too.
But Sakura wanted—more. It'd be satisfying to fulfill the mission in more ways than one, sure—but she wanted to win. She craved to hold something over his arrogant and brutal nature; wanted to coax him into her hands then make him bow to more.
What she truly wanted was Sasuke Uchiha to pay, little by little, for leaving her on that bench—only to fall right back to her in the darkest hour. The air in the room shifted as she accepted the vengeful part of her nature.
Sakura would be successful tonight.
"Ne, Uchiha-sama. You said you'd train me if I found out about that seal you were looking into, right?" Kiss me.
He was resealing his kunai and shuriken. "Did you find what it was?"
Kiss me. "I've found what it can do."
He turned to her after a few seconds, patience thin on his brow. "Tell me."
"I'll show you—after I shower."
"Fine." He returned to his sealing scrolls. "But training offensively is pointless if you plan to be a medic, and I doubt I have anything to teach you about healing."
"I don't need to train offensively." Kiss me. "I merely wish to improve my current style by sparring with you."
"Defensive counter-attack?"
Her brows quirked in surprise. "Yes, Uchiha-sama." She turned a page, but her eyes moved to his back. "Have you seen me fight, perhaps?" Kiss me.
"I've heard reports."
Sakura grinned at the quick and thoughtless way he admitted that.
She was going to succeed. Now that she understood the seal more, it was shockingly apparent Sasuke wasn't fortifying very well against its influence. In hindsight, it was obvious. He was still cruel and ruthless for the most part, but when they were alone, his softer side slipped out more than he seemed to realize.
"Mm. Reports on an unknown mercenary from Wind?"
She watched his shoulders tense as if realizing he'd given her an unintended gift. "Reports from Suigetsu. Now stop talking to me."
Kiss me, she thought over and over. Sasuke eventually commandeered the bathroom. Sakura thought of everything related to kissing she could. Even Kakashi's wretched book. And every thought was funneled into the seal, along with a bit of desperation.
She was going to succeed... But—if this didn't work tonight, she feared another opportunity might not come.
Sasuke was a genius. It almost guaranteed that he'd notice something was happening at some point in this plan of hers. He'd probably leave her to Orochimaru in any other situation, or port her away completely. Here that was impossible—he couldn't force her out, couldn't leave her alone.
It was perfect. And there would never be another chance like it. If this didn't work, he'd foil her scheme and raise his defenses in the future.
Or he may even request another contact entirely.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there on the floor, mindlessly staring at the same page, thinking about lips and tongue and making out. Long enough that she'd run out of creativity by the time a shirtless, soaked Sasuke exited the bathroom, looking disgustingly good for not trying.
Her eyes drank him in. He wore black sweats and a white towel draped around his shoulders, catching the water droplets from his hair. His skin was soft cream in contrast to the toned muscles that rippled beneath. Scars littered his arms and chest, marring the perfect painting they adorned with history and resilience—the sharp cut of his Apollo's belt dove below his pants in hiding.
"Go shower," he said gruffly, startling her.
Sakura averted her gaze with a blush, reaching for the simple black dress he'd secured earlier in the day. Discretely pulling underwear from her bag, she hid it under the gown in her hands. It was a silly action, she realized, walking into the bathroom. If she hoped to seduce him, she couldn't be so prudish.
The bathroom was thick with steam, having no ventilation this far underground. Sakura scrubbed her body in the shower and thought about kissing. Washed her hair and thought about kissing. Brushed her teeth and thought about kissing. Tugged the black dress over her head and thought—if anyone were reading her mind right now, they'd think her downright mad.
The frock ended at her knees and was a baggy, cotton thing, but at least it wasn't the type of clothing they expected healers to wear.
Kiss me, she thought for what felt like the ninetieth time as she opened the bathroom door.
So long as her mind focused on that singular task, it left no space for the embarrassment lurking in the recesses. She'd already resolved herself to it—feeling shame over the means to end a mission was pointless.
Sasuke was sitting at the desk, hunched over old parchment. With a steadying breath, she made to his back, peeking over. It was the same unknown language she'd seen him read before, but depictions of different hand signs this time.
"What're you reading?"
His shoulders were rigid. "Dojutsu scroll."
"What language is it?"
"A written one known only to the Uchiha."
Under the pretense of taking a closer look, she slanted over him. Kiss me, you dense man!
"I've never heard of anything like that," she said, voice honest. It was fascinating. The symbols were unlike any of the three languages she knew how to read. Her mind almost veered away from the mission to decipher the scroll.
Almost. She sucked her teeth, bemused that she might rather learn something new than potentially make out with the man she'd been in love with since childhood. Ino would literally cry if she ever found out.
Sakura turned to ask Sasuke if he'd teach her—
Only to find he was staring at her. With her leaned over him like this, their faces were only a foot apart. Yes, Sasuke. Kiss me! If she blurred her vision and focused on the spot in the center of his forehead, his beauty in proximity didn't overwhelm her.
She let a slow smile settle. "Yes, Uchiha-sama?"
His eye turned red and her mouth went dry.
"Don't stand so close," he growled. "It's strange when you're a child."
There was a tell in his dojutsu—in how he seemed conscious of her. So many times before this, he'd fooled her. Perhaps, before this night, he hadn't needed to fool her at all. Maybe she hadn't ever truly penetrated his defenses. Maybe. But tonight, the stiffness of his spine filled her with a feminine assurance. Sasuke couldn't swat her away this time, nor would she allow her doubts to force a withdrawal.
She straightened but stepped imperceptibly closer. "What if I wasn't a child?"
His hand balled into a fist on the table. "Don't stand close either way."
Tsunade was beside her, whispering in her ear. It will make things much easier than you think. She curiously tapped her seal with her chakra—a wave of lust rolled through her. Her hand shot out to steady herself on Sasuke's shoulder as her knees nearly buckled.
"Fuck," she mumbled under her breath. What the hell was that?
When she lifted her head, she met spinning dojutsu. Sakura stared into the Rinnegan without fear. Kiss me.
She blinked—and her back struck the wall. Her mind swam in shock—there was a hand across her neck. A thumb on one side and index finger on the other pushed her jaw up until her head craned to meet Sasuke's gaze. He stood now, pinning her to the wall beside the desk.
"You're doing something," he seethed.
"What do you mean, Uchiha-sama?"
His grip tightened and her seal throbbed under his palm. Kiss me, she thought, weaving it into his boiling chakra within it.
The room around them melted into an inky abyss, dissolving everything except the two of them and the wall her back dug into. Her transformation fell away and made her taller. Their faces were only half a foot apart. The tomoe in his birthright spun slowly.
Smirking with confidence she'd never felt before, she dared, "Now what, Sasuke?"
His lips slammed onto hers, so suddenly she gasped, and he took it as invitation to slide his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of mint; his stubble tickled her chin.
Sasuke Uchiha was kissing her.
Sasuke Uchiha was kissing her.
The kiss was fire and impatience. His fingers were tight on her neck, pressuring under her jaw, forcing her mouth to his. An arm snaked around her waist and tugged her flush to his firm body.
She stood frozen under the onslaught, blown away that it'd fucking worked, mind stalling once, twice—
And then she dropped the thoughts altogether and responded. Arms wrapping around Sasuke's shoulders, she moved her tongue against his—even though she'd no idea what she was doing. Even though she'd never done any of this before—it didn't matter. Her body already knew what to do.
This was the most natural thing in the world—the most basic human instinct. As if the only man and woman to ever exist were Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno; as if they were always meant to be here, doing this; as if there'd never been any other viable outcome.
Her heart raced like a wild, mercurial animal—one second with the excitement of a lion pouncing on prey, the next with the fear of the deer being caught.
Fingers dug into the flesh at her waist, and she groaned into his mouth.
Sasuke froze. His body stiffened under her, hands locking into place. Peeking, she met his wide-eyed stare, like he'd just woken from a dream, lips still on hers. His eyes pinched shut.
Though he kept her clutched tight and pinned to the rock, his head inched back until their mouths were half a foot apart again.
"Is it the seal?" Slightly out of breath, his voice was dark with a warning.
She knew instantly he was testing her. She could lie and say no and lose this opportunity forever—or she could show her hand, let him win, and—
"Yes," she admitted, also out of breath, blood hammering in her ears.
He studied her with chaotic calculation, mind scattered behind his gaze, which drifted to her lips. She wanted nothing in the world more than for Sasuke to lower himself into her again. Madara could win. She could be captured and tortured and give up everyone she loved. Gods, even if she had to give up Naruto—
Her next thought, Kiss me now, Sasuke, rang out all around them.
"Is that what you want?" The words fanned across her face as he asked, mouth creeping back towards hers.
"Yes."
It was all she'd ever wanted—ever since she was a child. The arms she'd wrapped behind his neck pulled desperately, hoping to hasten his approach. She whimpered as Sasuke ground into her.
Grazing his lips to hers, eyes closed, he murmured, "It's just the seal, though. It's not real."
"It feels real."
He touched their lips together and let his sit there inert, eyes opening to study her response. Sakura's body flushed hot as a volcano—she'd never felt the weight of so much emotion at once. It was excruciating: his mouth motionless on hers like a trial she was destined to lose, like her personal second circle of hell.
She could kiss him. Move her lips against his—breathe life into this lifeless contact.
She could kiss him, and she was confident he'd return it for now. But this was still a test, and if Sakura moved first instead of ceding him the control he demanded, she'd fail. Lust spread through her abdomen and into her core like poison.
The hand at her neck loosened, dragged up. He cupped the side of her face, long fingers slipping over her ear into her hair, curling around the base of her skull. His thumb ghosted over her cheekbone. She shuddered.
His hot gaze closed again, a small reprieve. "It's just the seal," he repeated on her lips.
More, Sasuke, rang out around them.
"Yes, it's just the seal," Sakura readily agreed.
She'd agree to death if he asked it of her. The mission was on the verge of slipping through her fingers—she was never recovering from this. She'd miscalculated. Heat pooled in her chest and throbbed under her navel with unbearable force, begging them to continue. Demanding that he claim her.
Claim me, bounced about the darkness.
Sakura focused on his possessive grip at her waist—how he held her head firmly in place to receive his attention. Lips connected but not kissing. The ghost of his breath on her cheeks. Everywhere but the shame she might feel later for thinking such a bold wish.
Please.
Sasuke yielded.
His mouth opened and sealed over hers again with a growl. She kissed him back with unbridled fervor. His hands dropped to pull the dress' fabric up Sakura's thighs unhurriedly, pooling it on his wrists as deft fingers slid to the back of her thighs to lift her against the wall.
Pressing her into it, his left hand spread out by the juncture of her thighs to support her weight, his right glided the length of her leg to grab her ankle and pull it behind him. Wrap them around me, his actions ordered.
"Good girl," he praised into the kiss as she complied.
Then both his hands were on her ass, gripping so hard there'd be bruises if this weren't a genjutsu, and he fit himself between her parted legs like a puzzle piece.
His tongue licked across her bottom lip for entry instantly granted. Her head tilted back to deepen the kiss on its own accord. The world disappeared; the war disappeared; everyone she loved tumbled into a forgotten corner of her mind like dust.
Sasuke's touch wasn't rain in the desert or shelter from the storm. It was flame over grasslands—all-consuming, demanding. Ravenous. Sakura stood in the center of the dry field, and nothing existed beyond the inferno raging on all sides.
He was rough. He nipped her lip and drew blood, then kissed his way down her jaw to the side of her neck, where he bit down so hard she shrieked. His hand flew from under her to clamp down over her mouth, shoving her head into the wall and turning it to expose better the spot he sucked on. His tongue was scalding and claiming against her delicate skin.
Vision watery from need, she whimpered into his palm. It felt so good. It felt so good. She was putty under him; her whole body was alight. The pleasure and craving were unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. But it wasn't enough—
I need more.
Sasuke ground into her again, his excitement large and unmistakable, and she moaned into his hand. She needed that.
Fingertips digging into her cheeks, he forced her lips into a pout. His wrist rotated so that his palm moved down to cup her chin.
He abandoned her neck and pulled her face to his again, skimming his lips on her own as he panted. She was held tightly in place between his fingers. His sharingan spun as he watched her with unadulterated passion—the most emotion she'd ever seen Sasuke show at once. He looked nothing like the man she knew in this state. Breathless and hungry.
He fit his body to hers until it felt like not even air could pass between them. His long fingers under her thigh danced at the bend of her groin, surely wet from proximity—if he moved just centimeters in—Keep going—keepgoingkeepgoingkeepgoing—he laid a light kiss on her pinched lips—
"... Someone's knocking," he muttered, sliding his fingers down to latch around her neck again. He shot chakra directly into her seal from his palm. Sakura shut her eyes with a moan, clenching her legs around his hips.
Clutch tightening until she almost couldn't breathe, he hissed quietly.
Then like ice water, the abyss fell away into brownstone. Sakura was still against the wall; Sasuke's hand still clasped her neck. Unlike the near-painful way he'd molded her into his body, though, they were a foot apart in the room.
And she was a teenager.
His eye faded to black as he removed his hand, but his gaze stayed on her. She could see the cogs turning. Knew he was assessing the trap he'd just fallen into and likely labeling it a terrible misstep to never happen again.
Sakura could barely think beyond how she never wanted it to end.
True to his word, there was an incessant pounding on the door.
"Hurry up, man. You know we'll be punished if we're late!" Suigetsu yelled from the hallway.
Sasuke's chest rose and fell harshly. He didn't step away.
"Madara's back and calling the upper ranks for a meeting," he told her. Suigetsu must've been shouting for him in the hallway for some time. "Don't leave this room, and don't open it for anyone."
Nodding, she fisted her hands in her skirts to avoid reaching out. Her heart clamored, breath ragged. It'd been a genjutsu, but her real body was slick with desire. Her slit slid on itself when she shifted to the side. The panties she'd only just changed into were soiled.
"Okay," she whispered, careful not to let the craving permeate her voice.
"...Don't play that trick again, or I'll remove you as the contact. It's a threat to the agreement. You'll only hurt yourself in vain." The tone was vicious, and he regarded her with a severe warning. He wanted her to kneel to his command and seemed intent on compelling her into it with cruelty.
But it was too late.
Here he stood before her, barely scolding and not denying. Explaining to her what was happening when he didn't have to—when he wouldn't have months ago. Winded and close enough to touch.
It was too late for him.
She'd seen the spin of his dojutsu. The darkness of their hue. Felt the possessive dig of his fingers. Heard his chest rumbling in response to her moans. Knew the way he'd grazed his lips on her skin was far from detached—Sakura knew well what detached Sasuke looked like. In the genjutsu, he'd let slip a side of himself she'd never known before...one she knew no one else in the world knew, either.
He warned her not to do it again. Not because he didn't want it—because she'd get hurt. He warned her not to do it again for her own sake.
Sakura held his gaze. She'd been worried that her mission backfired—that all she'd done was seed a stronger loyalty within herself. But Sasuke made an irreparable mistake just now.
She'd succeeded.
Something must've passed across her face because his sights narrowed suspiciously the next second.
"Don't do it again," he warned a second time.
She dipped her head to hide her victorious expression. "Yes, Uchiha-sama."
He'd just shown her the depth of his devotion.
.
.
She was shaken awake.
"What!" she snapped, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. It couldn't have been more than a few hours since she'd drifted off.
Sasuke kneeled beside her. Her navel trembled with the memory, urging her to pull him atop her and test it hadn't been a dream. Suigetsu standing by the door, uncharacteristically stern, was the only thing that stopped her.
"Madara's summoning the base. We need to go," said Sasuke vacantly. He stood and moved beside Suigetsu as her gaze darted between the two men, puzzled. The air was thick with tension, their countenances tight and controlled. "Put the Akatsuki cloak on."
His order settled into the seal. Rising to obey, Sakura pulled the cloak folded on the desk over her shoulders, tugging the hood over her head. Hormones soaked her for the compliance.
"What's going on?" she queried.
The two men shared a look. Finally, Suigetsu nodded and drifted to her side, catching her arm like he intended to drag her if she refused.
"You gotta keep it together for real this time, kid. Don't do anything stupid," he warned. "I'm gonna stay with you, but I can't do it for you."
"What's with that?" Her study drifted from Suigetsu to Sasuke, whose face was still blank as new parchment. Something crawled up her spine that turned her stomach. Something was very wrong. "I've been doing well. Tell me—what's going on?"
It was quiet for so long that she was certain they wouldn't answer.
Finally, Sasuke spoke: "Madara caught an Ally from a team dispatched to a coordinate in Earth Country."
Her heart froze. Shikamaru was on that team.
The room was suddenly alive with shadows. The ground under her feet turned from stone to gelatinized decomposition. Screams of death from miles away were bouncing against the walls.
"Who is it?"
Sasuke leveled a glare at her. "Find some form of control and keep your wits about you. There's no room for a single mistake."
"Sasuke, who—"
"Uchiha-sama," Suigetsu cut her off. Hold loosening, he turned to Sasuke. "This is a bad idea. Leave her here and say she was sleeping."
"No. It'll be too suspicious if we leave her. The meeting's propaganda—Madara's trying to lure out more spies, so keep your mouth shut and your head down." His voice was all controlled fury. The order sank into the seal with a hum. "Do you understand, Rei?"
Her mind was already crumbling. It was in the practiced way the two men gave nothing away. In their ardent warnings. How Suigetsu thought she couldn't do it.
Madara had someone she loved.
She felt the bone-deep tremor pulse through her body like the first shock of an earthquake. The muck at her feet solidified into corpses. Pallid hands were gripping her ankles; blood cascaded down the bedroom's four walls. The battlefield engulfed her and she breathed in the putrid stench of rot and decay. The rancid prayer—Please let it be someone else who got caught—swept through her like a sin. Let it be someone else's loved one. Let it be anyone else.
Sakura pleaded with the devil to take a stranger's life instead.
"Do you understand?" Sasuke repeated.
She understood his command, but...but—
"Who is it? Please..."
Laying her with another stern gaze, Sasuke turned and opened the door. Suigetsu cursed under his breath and tugged her forward. She stumbled.
"Please, Sa—Uchiha-sama, who?!"
He paused with a sigh, eyes sliding to hers over his shoulder. There was something there—something to be deciphered, something not yet legible to Sakura.
Anyone except Shikamaru. Anyone, she begged to any power that might listen.
Anyone? the Gods parroted with pitiless mirth.
"Sai."
ah, so many new readers,
and so many people who are still sticking around!
thank you to all those who are reviewing. you're keeping me going.
hope you enjoyed, have a great week!
thanks to the great beta-reader Leech!