Black Flame Eclipse

by My Story Sounds Edgy But Isn't

I wrote this for my girlfriend, who wanted me to post it. When Sasuke Uchiha is cast into a world where gods walk as men and power is both feared and worshipped, he finds himself bound to an impossible mission—one he barely understands but cannot afford to fail. Only two questions remain: Is any of it worth his happiness & will Naruto's dream survive?

The sword hilt flared like freshly lit incense, the blade embedded in the rogue shinobi's eye socket, an unmarked cenotaph to a nameless death. Sasuke wrinkled his nose against the acrid stench of burning flesh, his fingers lightly brushing the chokuto's guard. He waited a moment longer, letting the heat of charred leather dissipate before wrenching the blade free with a sharp tug.

A brisk wind slammed into his back, sending his tattered cloak whipping about his slender frame.

"Should I bury you?" he muttered, his voice nearly lost in the rising wind; his onyx eye met with the remaining corpse-grey iris of his victim. Strands of dark hair danced across his calm face, his feet skimming over pooling blood and dew-laden grass.

He turned to leave but hesitated, something unseen tugging at him. 'Bad enough to leave unburied? ' His gaze drifted to the thunderclouds brewing over the mountain pass. 'If I died… would anyone bury me? Would I even care? Or would I rot as another charred, rain-soaked corpse? '

Sasuke exhaled sharply, a muttered curse slipping through his lips as he dropped to one knee beside the fallen shinobi. His lone hand clawed at the damp earth, fingers stiff and unyielding against the stubborn ground. A fleck of dirt struck his Rinnegan, and he blinked it away, his jaw tightening. The phantom weight of his missing arm tugged at his consciousness, a hollow ache that refused to fade. 'I'm getting soft, ' he thought, the words bitter. But beneath the acrimony, a flicker of something else stirred—doubt, perhaps, or the faintest hint of regret.

The damp earth clung to his fingertips as Sasuke pressed his hand against the freshly turned ground. The wind howled through the mountain pass, tugging at his cloak and scattering loose mud across the grave's surface. For a moment, he stood motionless, his dark eye fixed on the disturbed soil. Then, with a sharp exhale, he turned and began his climb.

The path to Kumogakure was a jagged ribbon of stone, slick with rain that coiled through the mountain's ribs. Thunder rumbled overhead, its voice chasing his creeping shadow. His raggedy mantle fluttered weakly in the biting wind, the hem catching on rocks and sodden grass.

His gaze stayed low, tracing the uneven trail ahead. The hiss of rain striking stone filled his ears, drowning out the steady churn of doubt. Kumogakure's cliffs rose in the distance, their dark edges serrated against the storm-bruised sky. He pulled the cloak tighter across his chest as it rose and fell with rapid breaths.

The storm had caught him when he reached the village gates. Rain streaked his face, mixing with cold sweat. The guards didn't stop him—though some spat and others sneered. Word of his arrival had clearly preceded him.

His boots hit the cobbled paths, splashes catching the glow of village lights. The bustling streets painted warmth over his otherwise guarded expression while the familiar scent of soy sauce and miso drifted past like a faint, nostalgic perfume. Stirring fleeting images of blonde & pink hair, raucous laughter, and humbling insults.

The climb toward the Raikage's office felt like dragging himself up the edge of a cliff, each step an unyielding pull against gravity. 'Keep your eyes forward—no more, no less. ' The mantra churned in his mind, steady as his breath but heavy with exhaustion.

The rain had eased into a light mist by the time he reached the final stretch of the village centre. Near the base of the tower steps, he caught sight of an old man sitting beneath the overhang of a darkened shop. His robes were threadbare, his hair long and greyed, the wrinkles on his face deep with time. A wooden bowl rested at his feet, scattered with meagre coins, though most passersby moved past him without a glance.

Sasuke didn't fully slow, but his gaze lingered. The man was blind—he could tell by how his empty eyes pointed past anything he seemed to be looking at. And yet, he didn't seem lost.

"Standing in the rain never did anyone any favours," the old man mused. His voice was calm, almost bemused, like he was in on a joke only he understood. "Yet here you are."

Sasuke tugged at his earlobe, glancing up at the thinning clouds. He hadn't planned to stop, but something about the man's willingness to speak to him— to acknowledge him —made him hesitate. A stranger wanting conversation was nothing new, but this man had no caution, no wariness.

'Because he doesn't know me. '

Perhaps that was why Sasuke spoke freely when he finally answered.

"I've had worse."

The old man chuckled. "That, I believe." He reached for his bowl, fingers brushing over its rim before he stilled. "Tell me something. Why do you think people hate looking at me?"

Sasuke's brow furrowed slightly. He had seen this before, in every village and city: homeless men and women reduced to background noise, walking past like they were nothing but cracks in the road.

"Because you remind them how fragile their lives are," he said. "They think their homes, jobs, and power will keep them safe. But deep down, they know one wrong moment... one war, one betrayal, one stroke of bad luck... and they could end up exactly like you. Looking at you makes them afraid of what they could become."

The old man was quiet, his hands resting idly against the rim of his bowl. Sasuke was about to move on when he noticed people were giving him more money. Coins clinked against the wooden surface more than before.

"They weren't doing that a minute ago," Sasuke observed.

The old man smiled faintly. "When you spoke to me, you made me human again. What do you think that tells me about you?"

Sasuke didn't reply, only blinking rapidly as the words sunk into his consciousness like ink dispersing in water.

"Go on, then," the old man said, tilting his head slightly. "Your path leads upward."

Sasuke gave him one last glance before stepping past. And though the beggar's eyes were sightless, he still seemed to be watching him as he walked away. ' What did he mean by that... ' he shook the thought off; other matters needed attention.

He sagged his shoulders and exhaled softly, the sound barely audible over the rain, slicking the stones beneath his feet. His gaze remained fixed on the towering silhouette ahead, a distant figure of authority looming against the storm-cloaked horizon. The uneven rhythm of his boots echoed through the quiet, each step a muted protest against the weight pressing down on him. As the rain eased into a faint hum, the silence stretched, heavy and unrelenting.

Sasuke drew a deep breath before stepping into the office. A towering figure draped in a white cloak turned to face him.

The Raikage snorted, letting a dumbbell crash to the floor with a resounding thud. "Uchiha," he rumbled, his voice sharp with annoyance and curiosity. "Back so soon? Either you're frighteningly efficient, or you enjoy testing my patience..."

Sasuke lowered his gaze briefly, taking in the rain-soaked expanse of Kumogakure visible from the Raikage's office. His eyes snapped back to the hulking figure, firm with challenge. "Your tantrums don't concern me," he said, his voice low, almost lost beneath the distant rumble of storm clouds. He began to speak again but stopped short as soft footsteps drew near.

Without another word, Sasuke dropped a rattling bag at Samui's feet. Her eyes widened, and a flicker of shock broke through her composure as a bloodied headband tumbled from the satchel. The Raikage stormed over to his Jonin assistant, seizing one of the headbands beside her sandals. His massive fingers roamed the cold steel as his teeth gritted, and a small smile gradually spread across his swarthy, wet lips.

"Fifty S-ranked rogues," he said, his voice crackling with intensity. "Confirm it with the ANBU, Samui." He shoved the sack into her chest with enough force to make her stagger. She nodded, murmuring a soft "ok" before shuffling away, one hand pressed to her sternum, her expression tight.

Sasuke's weight shifted subtly, his lone hand flexing at his side as he watched the blonde retreat. A faint crease formed between his brows, his lips parting as if to speak, but the Raikage's voice thundered across the room, cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Kumogakure would welcome you for the evening, Uchiha. I never thought I'd consider inviting the man who tried to kill me." The Raikage frowned in thought, squaring his shoulders. "Twice..."

Sasuke's posture dipped, and his fingers absently clutched the space beneath his poncho where his missing arm should have been. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. 'I haven't earned this hospitality. I don't belong here.' He straightened, and his gaze hardened. "I refuse. Responsibility leaves no time for idleness."

The Raikage let out a rumbling laugh, curling his dumbbell with ease. "The Tsuchikage wrote me not long ago... as did the Kazekage," he said, his tone light but edged with curiosity. "Said you've been on the road for months. Village to village. Bingo books shrinking across all five nations." He smirked, jabbing Sasuke lightly with his massive elbow. "You carry yourself like a man who's forgotten how to stop. Stay awhile, boy. Drink. Rest. We could use some Uchiha blood in these mountains. And trust me, the kunoichi here aren't bad company..."

Sasuke flexed his hand at his side, his gaze sharpening. "I don't need rest… or women," he said flatly.

Ay exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You've been rooting out the filth for months. The other Kage want you fresh and sha—"

"Sharp?" Sasuke snapped, his voice edged with something unreadable. "To make sure the knife keeps… dicing. How many heads must I take before this ridiculous dream of Naruto's starts? Idealists always seem to forget how much blood they need for their mortar."

The Raikage's jaw tightened slightly, his massive arms crossing over his broad chest. "War has made the nations weak, Uchiha. You are our best bet at staving off the chaos. Kakashi was right about you. Espionage, assassinations... you name it. You can do it all, and with flying colours. The ideal shinobi."

Sasuke's lone eye flicked up, unreadable. "You can't rely on only me..."

Ay grunted. "I'm well aware. Konoha's playing diplomat, but the cracks are already showing. The smaller villages? Barely holding on. You hunt rogue shinobi like you're stamping out embers, but something's feeding the fire."

"Get a sharper knife then."

The Raikage's eyes narrowed slightly, but then he snorted, shaking his head. "Tch. You sound like Tsunade. Always throwing my words back at me."

Sasuke didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he glanced toward the window, watching rain streak the glass in thin, uneven trails. The silence between them stretched, heavy.

"Even if I keep cutting them down… it won't be enough." His voice was quieter now, but no less firm, "Kaguya should've been a wake-up call for you all. I cannot stop here."

The Raikage snorted, dropping his dumbbell with a crash that echoed through the room. "Well, you see..." He rummaged through the clutter on his desk, his mutterings tinged with amusement. "I've got a scroll here... addressed to you, from the Leaf. Looks important..." He straightened, holding it up teasingly. "I might just keep it… unless, of course, you stay the night. Just putting it out there."

Sasuke's jaw tightened, a sharp click of his tongue slipping out before he could stop it. "Raikage, I've fulfilled my end of the deal. There's no need to drag this out." The words came cold and deliberate, slicing through the tension like a blade. His fingers ghosted over the hilt at his side, a silent, restrained reminder of how easily he could cut through complications, words or otherwise. Yet, beneath his curt tone, a flicker of unease betrayed him for just a moment, long enough for the Raikage's knowing smirk to widen.

"Don't get me wrong, boy... I don't like you," the Raikage said bluntly, his voice gruff as his glare bore down on the Uchiha, "but I can see it... that change. And for that much, you've earned some respect. Relax... I'll have someone guide you."

Sasuke tossed his head back with a huff, mumbling a subtle acknowledgment as he sidestepped the Raikage's towering frame. The older man's tone had shifted. Less a demand, more a command. Sasuke's lips pressed into a thin line, his lone hand curling into a fist. "One night," he muttered, the words clipped and begrudging. Without awaiting a response, he turned sharply and strode toward the door, his feet dragging, the Raikage's deep, rumbling laughter trailing behind him like a distant storm.

The laughter echoed faintly as Sasuke stepped away, his feet moving deliberately. ' That wasn't too bad, ' he mused, a fleeting twitch pulling at the corner of his lips as memories of their last confrontation in the arena flared in his mind.

A shift in movement caught his eye. Samui stood nearby, arms folded beneath her chest, blue eyes steady but softer than usual. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face—brief but unmistakable.

"He has an odd way of showing that he hates you." Her voice was quiet, almost careful.

She started to say more, but he silenced her with a curt wave. She hesitated, her gaze flickering downward for just a moment before she steadied herself.

Rain slid down the curve of her jaw, clinging to strands of pale blonde hair. She studied him, searching for something he wasn't sure she'd find.

Sasuke exhaled slowly. 'What does she want? '

There was something about her at that moment—something restrained and deliberate. Not unlike himself.

And that unsettled him more than anything. He had no reason why he felt such a way, but the sensation continued to gnaw at his spine like teeth sliding across piano keys.

He sighed, his footsteps carrying him into the rain-soaked corridors of Kumogakure. The muted patter of water against the tiles outside filled the silence as Samui's presence hovered in his peripheral vision, her steps soft but steady. ' So she's my shadow for the night. ' He shook his head slightly as said shadow spoke.

"You look…" Her voice faltered as though the words threatened to betray her composure. "…tired. Shall I guide you to your guest house first?" She twirled a pinky through her bangs, gaze lowered but intent, as if gauging him.

Sasuke paused and picked a piece of lint from his sleeve. "I'm fine. I can find a tree," he muttered, the sharp edge in his voice dulling into something unreadable. He mumbled something under his breath, barely audible, before finally adding, "Thanks for asking," though the words seemed foreign in his mouth, forced through gritted teeth.

Samui wavered, her lips curling up briefly, her gaze lingering on his missing arm as if it were her first time really noticing it. "When will it be enough… Sasuke of Konoha?" she asked, voice low but laced with curiosity. Her fingers fidgeted briefly at her side before she distracted herself, inspecting the sharp curve of her nails with feigned indifference.

Sasuke didn't answer immediately. 'Enough? ' His fingers twitched imperceptibly at his side, his gaze fixed ahead. "That is none of your business." His voice was quiet, almost to himself, "What else do I have?"

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint water drip from the tiled rooves outside. Samui didn't press further, but her presence at his side felt like a question he couldn't ignore.

Ahead, the rainclouds thinned, revealing the faint glow of Kumogakure's lantern-lit streets. Sasuke clenched his jaw, his steps quickening. 'I can't stay here long, ' he thought. 'Not with these distractions. ' Samui moved just within his periphery, effortless, composed. He ignored the way her uniform clung damp against her frame as if it were aware of his gaze. 'I'll humour the old man, but then I'm gone. '

Blonde hair swished past his Rinnegan as the cloud shinobi nearly collided with him, excitement lighting up her face. She pointed over his shoulder toward a nearby establishment, its neon lights spilling a vivid glow into the street.

"That's the most popular bar in the Hidden Cloud," she announced, her husky voice cheerful.

He gnashed his teeth, brushing off the odd realisation of her proximity. "This is getting tedious." he huffed angrily.

Samui arched a brow. "What is?"

"Being here. This village."

She hummed, considering. "Then why are you still here? Is a mission scroll that important to you?"

Sasuke didn't answer immediately. He wasn't sure he had one.

A waiter passed by the two, setting a bottle of sake down on a nearby table. Samui followed his gaze and smirked. "Drink?"

Sasuke scoffed, tapping his foot as he pondered. "I'm not... of age," he said slowly.

"Technicality," she laughed, her tone light but edged with mischief. "Your birthday's near the end of the wet season. So, it's either passed or right around the corner. You don't think I would've read your file before this?"

He wilted, irritation building in his quivering lips, "I don't care."

Samui's sharp blue eyes locked onto his, amusement flickering beneath her composed exterior. She stepped closer, deliberate, unhurried. The warmth of her presence pressed subtly into the air between them, her gaze unwavering. For a brief moment, Sasuke thought of Sakura, of her soft, hesitant touch, always holding back. But Samui was different. She was confident and sexy. She had Ino's boldness and Sakura's quiet intensity but none of their restraint.

"You don't... care?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her sharp blue eyes glinting with mischief.

The movement was subtle but deliberate, and Sasuke caught the shift in her effortless command of the space around her. He remained still, his expression unreadable.

Her fingers brushed against his, the contact fleeting but deliberate before she pulled away. "A drink won't kill you," she added, tone light but carrying an edge of challenge. "Consider it… part of the mission."

She paused, her lips curving faintly. "Bee might be there, too, if that makes it easier." Then, quieter and teasing, her lips hovered by his ear as the words poured in like liquid silk: "Or... would you rather it just be us?"

Sasuke's jaw tightened so much his ears popped. 'She's enjoying this far too much. '

"I don't have time for this," he said, kneading his shoulders as if there was an unbearable itch.

Samui let out a soft, unruffled chuckle. "Neither do I," she mocked, mirroring his scowl before she bit her bottom lip. Just... say... yes." She trilled like a cat, and something in him seemed to melt.

Sasuke bit a nail absentmindedly, his irritation flickering. 'I'm used to brushing off teenagers… not whatever this is... '

He reached for his pocket, fingers brushing against nothing. His expression darkened. ' How much does alcohol cost here? ' He barely concealed his frustration as realisation set in. He hadn't a single ryō to his name.

"Do you always let the silence speak for you? It's on the house, hun," she hummed, her sharp blue eyes scanning him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She turned on her heel, gesturing for him to follow, her movements smooth and deliberate. Sasuke hesitated, swaying on his feet as if weighing the consequences of stepping further into her world.

'All this for a fucking scroll. ' he cursed himself as he followed, his heart drumming with an unease he refused to acknowledge.

The bar was warmer than he expected, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. The scent of spiced liquor and grilled meat mingled with the faint tang of rain still clinging to his cloak. Laughter bubbled from a nearby table, oddly foreign to his ears.

He kept his posture rigid, his gaze sweeping the room. A few Kumogakure shinobi spared him fleeting glances, some curious, others veiled disdain. None approached.

Samui slid into a corner booth with the effortless confidence of someone who belonged everywhere. It was a well-hidden, private corner. She leaned back, one eyebrow arching provocatively.

"Well? Will you stand there all night, or will you sit?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. He considered walking out, but the Raikage's scroll tethered him here. Leaving now wasn't an option.

Without a word, he slid into the seat across from her.

A server appeared, and Samui had already placed an order before he could protest, "Bottle of your best sake, please."

Sasuke's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His dark eyes flicked to the window, where the rain-streaked glass reflected the flicker of lantern light. He could feel Samui's gaze on him, sharp and calculating, as if she were trying to unravel the layers of his silence. He didn't mind the quiet; it was familiar and comforting.

Samui lifted her cup in a mock toast when the sake arrived, her eyes never leaving his. "To… technicalities," she said, her voice low and teasing.

Sasuke stared at the cup before him, the sharp scent of rice wine curling in his nostrils. He had every intention of ignoring it. But the weight of the day, the mission, the Raikage's smug prodding. It all pressed against him like the storm outside. He found his hand moving before he fully decided to.

Lifting the cup slightly, he acknowledged her toast with the barest nod before taking a measured sip.

Warmth bloomed in his chest, subtle but present. He slumped, carefully setting the cup down, gaze flicking back to Samui.

She watched him closely, eyes alight with something he couldn't quite place. Satisfaction? Curiosity? Something more unreadable?

The warmth of the sake lingered in his chest, a fleeting comfort that he hadn't realised he needed. He shifted slightly in his seat, his lone hand resting on the table, fingers tracing the cup's rim. The bar's low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of ceramic cups filled the silence between them, but Samui's presence was impossible to ignore.

She leaned back in her seat, her posture relaxed but her gaze sharp. "You like this with the Konoha girls?" she said, her voice low and teasing. Her foot brushed against his under the table, the contact light and deliberate.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, but he didn't pull away. "I don't see the point in small talk," he replied flatly.

Samui's lips curved into a faint smile. "Fair enough," she said, her foot sliding up his calf slowly and deliberately. "But silence can be… boring."

Sasuke's jaw tightened, his lone hand gripping the table's edge. The warmth of her foot was unmistakable, pressing firmly against his crotch, the slow, deliberate grind sending heat coiling low in his spine. His dark eyes snapped to hers, searching for any hint of mockery or malice, but he only found that same unreadable glint.

"Is this part of the mission, too?" he asked, his voice low and vexed.

Samui tilted her head, her smile widening. "Consider it… a bonus. I haven't had this much fun on a mission... in a long time," she said, playing with a lock of hair.

Her toes flexed, dragging over him in a slow, sinful glide, tracing every thick, unyielding inch. "Have you?" The further she stroked, the more her breath hitched, her lips parting in quiet awe.

Sasuke's breath hitched, just barely, but it was enough for Samui to notice. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Relax, Uchiha. It's just a game."

His fingernails left trails of scratched paint. "I don't play games," he said, his tone firm but lacking its usual edge.

Samui's foot stilled, but she didn't pull away. "Maybe you should," she said, her voice soft but carrying a challenge. "You might find it… refreshing."

For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills that neither seemed willing to concede. Finally, Sasuke leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable. "You're persistent," he said, his voice low.

Samui's smile didn't waver. "It's one of my better qualities," she replied, her foot retreating slightly but lingering close enough to remind him of her presence.

Sasuke glanced at the window, the rain-streaked glass reflecting the flicker of lantern light. He could feel her eyes studying him, waiting for a reaction. But he gave her nothing, his expression as guarded as ever.

The server returned, setting a plate of grilled meat and vegetables between them. Samui picked up her chopsticks, her movements smooth and deliberate. "Eat," she said, her tone light but carrying an edge of command. "You'll need your strength."

Sasuke glanced at the food, then back at her. "For what?" he asked, his voice flat.

Samui's smile was all the answer he needed. 'I'm... in trouble. ' he swallowed hard, a single bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

The faintest wisp of steam curled up before she took a bite of her food, her sharp blue eyes never leaving him. "You know," she said, her tone casual yet deliberate, "you're not like the others."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow as he reached for a piece of food, rolling it between his chopsticks before taking a slow, measured bite. The smoky, savoury flavour settled on his tongue, grounding him in the present.

"What others?" His voice was flat, but the flick of his gaze betrayed his curiosity.

"The men in this village," she clarified, the corner of her lips tilting up. "They're… predictable. Loud. Obnoxious. Always trying to prove something. Most would've made a move by now." She paused, considering him. "But you… you haven't."

Sasuke chewed slowly, letting the words settle between them. He wasn't sure if it was an observation or an accusation. "I have nothing to prove."

Samui leaned back, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers. "Exactly. You're cool..." she held back a chuckle as if an inside joke had suddenly just caught up to her, "fuck... I haven't used that word in a long, long while. I was doing so well." She studied him with an expression bordering on amusement. "That's what makes you different. You don't posture. You don't seek approval. You exist... as if the world itself is irrelevant."

Sasuke set his chopsticks down, his fingers idly brushing against the ceramic rim of his plate. "Maybe it is."

A flicker of interest passed through Samui's gaze. "Ah... such honesty. You really think the world isn't worth believing in?"

He exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh or a scoff. "I don't believe in a shinobi world. Power, status, and loyalty are fragile, crumbling the moment someone stronger comes along. For the moment... I'm just humouring Naruto's dream. I'm lying to myself... I don't believe in his dream... just him." He met her gaze, unblinking. "So why else should I concern myself with it? I'm the leaf village's fine china... brought out for the most special of guests ... the ones they can't kill. That's all."

Samui considered his words, taking another bite before speaking. "That's a lonely way to live."

Sasuke's grip on his chopsticks tightened. "I'm a weapon. I annihilate. It's better to be alone."

Something shifted in Samui's expression—not disagreement, but recognition. She took a slow sip of sake before speaking. "I used to believe that, too. That if I were strong enough, I wouldn't need anyone. But strength isn't just about power... sometimes, it's faith. And sometimes, deception is the only way to survive."

She set her cup down, tapping its rim lightly. "Not all lies are meant to hurt. Some are armour. Some keep people at a distance. And some…" She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Some are the only way we can keep moving forward."

Sasuke glanced at her, sceptical. "You think lying to yourself makes survival easier?"

She smirked, but it lacked its usual sharpness. "I think believing in something makes it easier."

Sasuke didn't respond immediately. He reached for another piece of meat, chewing thoughtfully. "And what do you believe in?"

Samui met his gaze, unwavering. "That it's not all pointless." She took a sip of sake before setting the cup down. "That we're more than the sum of our battles."

For a moment, there was only the quiet hum of the bar—the distant murmur of voices, the rhythmic clink of cups, the muted patter of rain against the window.

Sasuke's expression remained unreadable, but his hand, ever so slightly, relaxed against the table.

"And if we aren't?" His voice was quiet, but there was something raw beneath it.

Samui held his gaze for a long moment before answering. "Then I suppose we have nothing left but the next fight."

Sasuke let the words linger between them, then picked up his sake cup. He didn't toast or acknowledge the weight of the conversation—but he drank, nonetheless.

Samui watched him, her expression unreadable but her eyes glinting with something close to understanding.

"You're not what I expected, Sasuke of Konoha," she said, a trace of something softer in her voice. "But I think that's what makes you interesting."

She swirled the last remnants of sake in her cup before speaking. Her pointer finger massaged her lower lip briefly, her azure eyes piling thoughts.

"So... is someone waiting for you back home?" she asked, her tone casual yet slightly hitched.

Sasuke barely reacted, lifting his chopsticks to pick at the grilled meat before replying. "What do you mean?"

Samui smirked. "A woman. A lover. Someone who keeps you tethered to Konoha even when you insist you don't belong there."

For half a second, Sasuke hesitated—just enough for an image of pink hair to flash unbidden in his mind. Then, without missing a beat, he took a slow bite. "No."

Samui arched a brow. "Doesn't sound like a real no ."

His fingers tensed slightly around his chopsticks. "There's someone who... refuses to give up on me."

Samui chuckled. "Ah... used to persistent already, are we?"

Sasuke answered with a roll of his eyes, his chest heaving dramatically.

There was a beat of silence before Samui leaned back, assessing him.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Do you want her to give up?"

Sasuke didn't answer immediately. He set down his chopsticks, fingers absently running along the rim of his sake cup. "I don't know."

Samui hummed in amusement. "You don't strike me as the indecisive type."

He glanced at her. "It's not indecision. It's..." He searched for the right word. "Irrelevance... perhaps even guilt. She refuses to give up on a lost cause."

Samui tilted her head. "Irrelevant? Lost cause? You think love serves you no purpose?"

Sasuke met her gaze, unwavering. "It's only ever given me more problems. I'm a problem myself... I mean, why would I let my selfishness destroy the life of somebody I care about?" Something dark flickered in his eyes.

She studied him briefly before waving the bartender another round, "Dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin... all firing in predictable patterns." She gestured vaguely. "Attraction, attachment, devotion. It's just biology forcing us into social cohesion. Clearly... she needs something from you."

Sasuke frowned slightly, gaze flicking to the rain-streaked window. "If it's all just wiring, then it shouldn't matter. And yet..."

Samui smirked. "And yet?"

His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "And yet I can't figure out if she's simply obsessed... or if there's something else."

Samui leaned in slightly, her voice low, amused. "Obsession… love… hard to tell the difference. But you'll never know unless you try. As many times as it takes."

She juggled her breasts playfully, the mesh armour straining against their sheer size. "You don't think I know the price of obsession? These things are male trash magnets. I've spent my whole life being looked at... and not seen. Just a sex object. I learned to roll with it."

"And you call me lonely..." Sasuke huffed, incredulous.

"Oh, buddy..." she laughed, shaking her head, "It doesn't take a genius to know... that you have it worse than me."

"Doubtful." he retorted with a dismissive wave.

Sasuke's brow furrowed as he turned the question over in his mind. Did he care for Sakura? Of course, in some way. She had always been there, always reaching for him. But was it love? He wasn't sure he even understood what that was supposed to mean.

Samui watched him closely before deciding to push further. "Let's say, hypothetically, that the shinobi world vanished tomorrow. No wars, no villages, no purpose but to exist. What then? Would you take this girl?"

Sasuke glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, tapping her chopsticks against the rim of her plate, "if you had no battles left to fight, no missions, no expectations... just you, as a man, not as a shinobi... would you still think her love is irrelevant?"

For once, Sasuke didn't have an immediate answer.

Samui smirked knowingly. "See? You don't dislike the idea of love. It just hasn't had any room in your life."

Sasuke scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "You're reaching. Projection much?"

"Isn't it the same for all shinobi? We weren't exactly built to last..."

Their conversation lapsed into silence. Sasuke stroked his chin, rolling his lips tightly to the side in thought. He picked up the sake bottle before pouring another shot into both cups.

Samui watched him, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "You're an old soul, little Uchiha. It's astonishing... really."

Sasuke set his cup down, his dark gaze flickering to hers. "So are you."

Samui exhaled through her nose, rolling the cup absently between her fingers. "Funny," she hiccuped, a faint, self-mocking smile tugging at her lips. "Most people think I'm just another dumb little bimbo."

Sasuke tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Because you're pretty… or because you're blonde?"

She let out a short chuckle, shaking her head. "Both, probably. Pretty. Strong. Quiet." She listed them like labels stamped onto her without permission. "Men see the first and assume there's nothing else. My village values the second and never asks if I want to be anything more. And the third?" A wry smirk flickered over her lips. "That one's just easier. People don't expect much from a pretty face that stays silent."

Her voice didn't waver, but she took a slow sip of sake as if washing something bitter from her tongue.

Sasuke said nothing. He just watched her. No dismissive remarks, no empty reassurances. He let the words sit between them.

She set her cup down, rolling it slowly between her palms. "For the longest time, I couldn't picture myself as a mother," she admitted, her voice distant, as if the words were escaping without her full permission. "Not because I didn't want to be one... but because I didn't think I could be. I've had the womanhood beaten out of me—literally and figuratively." Her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line. "I hated my body. Hated how it made men look at me, how it made other women dismiss me. No matter how strong I became or how much I proved myself, I was still just... that. A thing to be ogled, judged, or used."

Her jaw tightened, her gaze hardening as she stared into the distance. "I spent years sharpening myself into a weapon—faster, stronger, deadlier—so I could be more than just... eye candy. So I could be seen as something beyond my body." She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "But it never changed anything. No matter what I did, I was still just a kunoichi with big tits. Still just... a tool for someone else's agenda."

A pause hung in the air, heavy and raw.

"Until now," she murmured, the words slipping out almost unintentionally, as if she hadn't meant to voice them aloud.

Sasuke's gaze remained fixed on her, dark and unreadable yet piercing in its intensity. A long moment passed before he finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "That bothers you?"

Samui let out a quiet, humourless laugh. "It never did before. Hell, I used to take pride in it—turning their objectification into a weapon of my own." She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the cup. "But around you... I did to you what others had always done to me. I reduced you to something... less." She trailed off, her voice softening, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. "Tch. I don't know. It's... complicated."

Sasuke studied her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, quietly, he said, "I don't think anyone's ever seen the real you."

The words settled between them, unexpected, unshakable.

She let out a quiet, rich laugh, something loosening in her chest. "Maybe," she conceded, tilting her head. Then, after a beat, she arched a brow, lips curving slightly.

"Why don't you open me up... and look inside..."

The Uchiha froze. ' Oh no. '

Several sake bottles lay abandoned between them. Heat coiled low in Sasuke's veins, his ironclad control fraying at the edges, softened by alcohol and the weight of Samui's gaze. Her sharp blue eyes glinted—predatory, knowing—as if she saw every crack in his armour.

"Come on, will you?" she murmured, her voice like silk. Are you too drunk to answer, or are you thinking too hard?"

Sasuke exhaled, slow and uneven, fingers dragging over the cup's rim.

"Neither," he muttered, his words slipping out with a faint slur. As the room tilted slightly, he pressed a hand to his temple, the sake's warmth coiling tighter in his chest.

Samui smirked. "Liar."

Before he could react, she was on him, swinging a leg over his lap, settling against him with deliberate pressure. Her warmth bled through the thin barrier of his clothes, impossible to ignore.

"You think way too much," she murmured, lips hovering over his ear. "Maybe it's time you let yourself feel."

Sasuke remained still, but his pulse roared beneath his skin, the sake stripping away his restraint, making every touch heavier, hotter. Her lips brushed his—wet, feverish—strings of desire slipping between them. She caught them with her tongue before biting his bottom lip, drawing a ragged breath from his throat. His head fell back in surrender as her mouth descended on his neck, relentless, each hungry suck syncing with the pounding of his heart.

"You're not used to this," she whispered, her breath warm and teasing. "Someone getting this close... tasting you..."

"The waiters... the other customers..." he muttered, his voice thick, dazed.

Samui's fingers traced his arm, slow and deliberate. "Don't worry... they're all afraid of you..." she mused, grazing the inside of his wrist. "I mean, look at you..." she purred, eyes lazy with lust. "How could a man be so damn pretty..."

His breath hitched—just barely.

"Say the word, and I'll stop," she murmured, lips brushing his pulse. But the slow roll of her hips said otherwise, daring him to break before she did.

"Enough," he growled, his lone hand snapping up, dragging her flush against him.

Samui gasped, a wicked, breathy sound, before smirking. "There you are," she purred, nails scraping down his chest. "Knew you had it in you."

He swallowed hard, dark eyes flickering between wariness and something dangerously close to surrender. "This is your fault..."

Samui smirked against his jaw. "Hmm... what will you do about it, pretty boy?"

Heat thickened between them, intoxicating. Samui slid off his lap, slow and deliberate. Kneeling before him, her fingers traced the inside of his thigh, nails grazing just enough to send a shiver through him.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, his breath uneven as she worked him free. The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat pooling in his veins, and when her fingers wrapped around him—firm and sure—a guttural sound escaped his throat.

"You're already so hard... so big," she murmured, her voice sultry and teasing. She thudded it against her cheeks, "I think he likes me..."

She caught a bead of slick arousal on her lips, then parted them slightly, exhaling warm breath over his aching length. Sasuke's jaw tightened, his lone hand gripping the armrest.

' Dizzy... ' he felt his head hit the back of the booth. His control was slipping, dulled by sake and her touch. He couldn't answer—not that he needed to. The way his body responded, the way his hips jerked slightly at the first flick of her tongue, spoke volumes.

Samui took her time, teasing him with languid licks, lips brushing just enough to drive him mad before pulling back. His fingers flexed, aching to tangle in her hair, to take, but she was in control, and she knew it.

"You taste so good," she purred, breath hot against his skin; she foamed his juices in her mouth, the bubbles dripping down his thick shaft slowly, "sho shweet-"

Then she took him in, slow, torturous. The pressure made his breath snag, his fingers curling into her hair before he could stop himself, guiding her just enough to let her know she was undoing him.

She hummed, the vibration sending a sharp pulse of pleasure through him. Sasuke's muscles tightened, a shudder running through him as she worked him deeper, lips stretched, tongue teasing the sensitive underside. A low, unsteady exhale escaped him as his grip on her hair tightened, heat turning molten.

Samui pulled back with a soft, wet smack, lips slick and swollen. "I could do this all night," she mused, stroking him with slow, deliberate intent, watching his stomach tense beneath her touch.

Sasuke let out a sharp breath, head tipping back. "Then stop talking," he muttered, voice raw.

Samui smirked, dragging her tongue along him in response. A few more minutes of this, and he'd lose whatever restraint he had left.

Sasuke was not a patient man.

With a swift motion, he tugged her up, ignoring her teasing laugh as he flipped their positions, pressing her back against the booth. His hands were rougher now, slipping beneath her clothes without hesitation.

He found her dripping, hot, and ready.

His fingers pushed inside, slow but relentless. Samui gasped, her breath catching. She clenched around him, hips jerking, chasing friction. Sasuke stilled, watching her fall apart, his breath uneven. When her lashes fluttered, and her lips parted in a silent plea, he gave her more.

Then he dropped to his knees.

The first stroke of his tongue shattered her breath.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he worked her open, pace measured, teasing, unravelling her piece by piece.

She whimpered, then gasped, thighs trembling as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers curling with the rhythm of his licks.

"Sasuke—"

She broke on his tongue, legs locking around his shoulders, her body arching as pleasure crashed over her. He held her there, savouring it, slowing only when she shuddered against him.

When he finally pulled back, lips and chin slick with her release, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at her—dark eyes heavy-lidded, still starving.

Samui slumped against the wall, breath ragged.

"Damn," she murmured, lips curving. "Didn't think you had it in you, pretty boy."

Sasuke exhaled, control barely tethered. "You talk too much."

Samui smirked, dragging a finger along his jaw. "Then why don't you shut me up?"

Sasuke didn't let her come down from the high he'd just pulled from her body. His hand was over her mouth, silencing her gasp as he dove back in, his tongue deep and relentless.

Samui trembled against the wall, moaning into his palm, fingers clawing at his wrist. His grip tightened, keeping her at his mercy as he buried himself in her, tongue curling, teasing, tasting.

A choked sound escaped her, hips twitching, thighs squeezing around his head as another wave of pleasure overtook her. When he finally pulled back, her breaths came in short, sharp bursts, her blue eyes dazed.

Samui let out a breathless laugh, her voice husky. "You're... good."

Sasuke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze flickering, waiting, daring her.

Samui smirked. "Fine," she murmured, pulling him back to the floor. "My turn."

She reached for the sake, pouring it over him slowly, teasingly. The cool liquid met his burning skin, running in rivulets down his length. Samui licked her lips, then leaned in, dragging her tongue along the path it had left behind.

Sasuke inhaled sharply, his stomach tensing as she took him in, her mouth hot and wet, contrasting against the sharp chill of the sake. She worked him slow at first, letting him feel every inch of it—her lips, her tongue, the way she hollowed her cheeks, pulling a low, guttural groan from his throat.

He clenched his jaw as she pushed further, trying—and failing—to take more of him. She made a frustrated sound, then moaned around him as her fingers slid between her legs, teasing herself in anticipation.

Sasuke's eyes darkened, watching, taking in every twitch, every needy movement. His lone hand wove into her golden hair, guiding her, letting her push herself to the limit as she worked him over, again and again, until she was nearly drunk on the act itself.

Samui pulled back just enough to breathe, her lips red, swollen, and glistening. "Get back down there," she murmured, her fingers still moving against herself, her body trembling in anticipation. "I want it..."

The warm glow of the restaurant lanterns flickered against Samui's fair skin, accentuating the deep valley of her cleavage where the fabric of her low-cut outfit barely contained her generous curves. Her blue eyes remained half-lidded as she exhaled slowly, willing herself to keep her expression neutral. The waiter stood at the edge of the table, an easy smile on his face, but her focus was elsewhere... on the slow, deliberate touch gliding up the inside of her toned thigh beneath the tablecloth.

Sasuke's fingers pressed against the sensitive skin just above her knee before moving higher, knuckles grazing where she was already heated, already restless. Her breath hitched, though she masked it quickly, lifting her glass of sake to her lips as if nothing were amiss.

Just as his touch grew bolder, a shadow moved at the periphery of her vision. Samui barely had time to react before the waiter stepped up beside the table, his voice cutting through the heated haze between her legs.

"Another round for you?" the waiter asked, oblivious.

Samui forced a smirk, tilting her head slightly, the asymmetrical bob of her blonde hair falling across her shoulder. "I think I'm good for now."

Sasuke's touch grew firmer, fingers parting her ever so slightly, the rough drag of his calloused fingertips sending a shiver up her spine. She swallowed against the rising heat in her throat, willing herself not to react as he traced idle, torturous circles over her most sensitive spot.

The waiter hesitated, either sensing something off or simply enjoying the conversation. "Are you sure? We have a new batch, and it is very smooth. I could bring a sample."

Samui clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around her glass as Sasuke dipped lower, his movements measured, teasing. A sharp pulse of pleasure shot through her as his mouth replaced his fingers, hot breath fanning against her inner thigh before he dragged his tongue along her damp skin. Her grip on the table tightened.

"I—" She cleared her throat, inhaling deeply. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll pass."

The waiter's gaze flickered over her, curiosity evident in his expression. "You seem a little flushed. Are you alright?"

Sasuke exhaled against her, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of heat rushing through her limbs. Samui barely restrained the way her hips jerked, instead shifting slightly in her seat to cover the motion. Her nails pressed into her palm beneath the table.

"I'm fine," she managed, her voice even, though the underlying breathiness betrayed her. "Just… warm."

The waiter smirked, clearly misinterpreting. "Ah, I get it. The Uchiha must not be much company, huh? Sitting there all broody and silent... he wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you."

Samui's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. Her fingers idly traced the rim of her glass as she leaned in slightly. Her voice was low and smooth, laced with quiet amusement. "Oh, sweetheart, you're mistaken. That broody man under the table?" She paused, letting the implication hang in the air, her smirk deepening. Let's just say he's making it very hard to remember my name."

She tilted her head, her gaze sharp but composed, as if she were dissecting him without effort. "Meanwhile, I'd wager the last time a woman moaned your name, it was to ask you to move out of her way." She let the words settle, watching with quiet satisfaction as the waiter's smug expression faltered.

"Some men," she continued, almost conversational, "are born to please. Others?" Her eyes flicked downward briefly, her smile turning faintly pitying. "Well, let's just say it's a good thing you're in food service. At least your hands are useful for something."

The waiter choked on his breath, face rigid for a brief second before he coughed and forced a nervous chuckle. "Well, uh, enjoy your evening then."

As soon as he turned, Sasuke's hand clamped over her thigh, holding her still as he pressed his mouth firmly against her, his tongue sweeping over the ache he had so carefully built up. Samui bit the inside of her cheek, her head tipping back slightly as a slow, excruciating pleasure coiled low in her stomach.

"Sasuke," she hissed under her breath, fingers twitching against the table's surface.

His response was nothing but a low hum against her, sending another sharp pulse of sensation through her already trembling frame. Samui exhaled shakily, glancing toward the rest of the restaurant, knowing she'd have to endure him a little longer or risk giving them both away completely.

With remarkable composure, Samui signalled the waiter again, a smug gleam in her blue eyes as she reached for the bill. Still hidden beneath the table, Sasuke exhaled slowly against her flushed skin, sending another shudder down her spine. She smirked, placing the necessary bills down with a deliberate flick of her wrist.

"Keep the change," she purred, eyes glinting with amusement. The waiter accepted the payment stiffly, refusing to meet her gaze, his earlier bravado nowhere to be found.

Then, with the air of a woman in complete control, Samui slid back her chair and stood gracefully, ignoring the slight tremor in her legs. One hand dropped below the tablecloth, fingers threading into Sasuke's dark locks as she tugged—not too gently—pulling him out from beneath the table. As soon as he was upright, she curled her fingers around the front of his waistband, gripping him possessively.

Murmurs from nearby tables went ignored as she led him toward the exit, her hold firm, her stride confident, flaunting him in full view as if he were nothing more than her plaything. Sasuke huffed a quiet laugh at her audacity but let her have her way, his free hand settling on her hip as they made their way outside.

By the time they stumbled out of the restaurant, the night air did little to cool the heat between them. The sake had left them both flushed, Sasuke's normally sharp gait looser, while Samui barely resisted the urge to lean into him, her head spinning most deliciously.

"You're walking funny," Sasuke murmured, smirking as he steadied her with a firm hand at her waist.

Samui scoffed, her lips curving as she nudged him. "And whose fault is that?"

The streets were quiet, the lanterns casting long, flickering shadows along the path. They didn't make it far before Samui suddenly veered off course, tugging Sasuke with her toward a cluster of trees at the edge of the road. With a wicked glint in her eye, she pressed him back against the rough bark, her hands already sliding up his chest.

"Here?" Sasuke asked, voice hoarse with amusement.

She tilted her head, the asymmetrical strands of her golden hair framing her flushed face. "You're the one who couldn't wait."

His hands found her hips, fingers pressing into the firm curves beneath her short skirt. "Oh, I'm not the impatient one."

She chuckled, her breath warm against his lips. "Says the man who let me drag him through the restaurant by his big fat cock—"

Sasuke silenced her with a sharp tug, pulling her flush against him. Her lips parted with a soft gasp, her chest pressing against his firm torso, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat between them. The sheer mesh of her outfit hinted at flushed skin, the high slit of her skirt revealing toned thighs, still trembling from earlier.

The night was quiet around them.

Samui's fingers fumbled at his shirt, tearing the fabric with a sharp rip, but she barely noticed. Sasuke's grip on her hip was bruising, grounding her as the world blurred into sensation.

Their lips met in a desperate clash—no teasing, no restraint, just raw hunger. His fingers traced her thigh, pushing her skirt up and exposing her golden skin to the night air. Then, with effortless strength, he lifted her, her legs locking around his waist, boots digging into his back. The friction was unbearable, instinct driving her beyond thought.

Sasuke pinned her against the tree, his grip unyielding. His teeth grazed her neck, his breath hot, his hands searching, claiming. She trembled as his fingers slid beneath damp fabric—and then, everything shattered.

The first stroke undid her. Her head tipped back, lips parting in a silent cry as sensation surged through her, electric and overwhelming. He took his time, learning her anew, mapping every way to unravel her. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, nails dragging down his skin as her hips chased his touch, desperate for more.

Pleasure built too fast, her body betraying her, tightening like a bowstring. And then—he withdrew. Her vision swam, her breath catching in a choked whimper, but before she could beg, he was there, pushing against her, stretching her, filling her beyond reason.

There was no time to adjust. He pressed deeper, slow but punishing, forcing her to take every inch. Her body clenched around him, helpless, mind collapsing beneath the sheer force of sensation.

Their eyes met—hers glassy and unfocused, pupils blown wide with pleasure. The sight sent a bolt of heat through him, something primal igniting in his blood. Sasuke's jaw clenched, and his pace shifted—no longer just deep, no longer just hard, but frenzied and relentless.

She shattered. Trembling, falling apart in his grip. Pleasure overtook her, leaving her breathless. He watched her crumble. Her mouth parted in silent surrender. The sheer devastation of it pushed him past the edge of restraint.

Her lips parted, voice breaking in a whisper. "W-what… are you doing to me?" It wasn't a demand or a real question—just the last, fragile thread of coherence unravelling between them.

Language ceased to exist. Thought abandoned her. Only unbearable pleasure remained, breaking over her in relentless waves. Her body sagged against him, pliant, mindless, breath escaping in ragged, shattered gasps. Sasuke wasn't any better—his muscles flexed beneath damp, burning skin, his breath heavy against her throat. He didn't slow. He didn't ease. He chased her, pushed her, his grip bruising, his pace turning ruthless.

Her limbs trembled, her vision blurred, and her body clenched unbearably around him. And then she shattered again. No scream. No sound. Just violent clenching, helpless convulsing, loss of everything but him. And still, he didn't stop. He tore her apart once more, leaving her weightless, ruined, and incapable of thought.

Then, his hand joined his thrusts, fingers pressing against the most sensitive part of her, pushing her beyond reason. It undid her completely. Her body seized, her back arching violently, her mouth opening—but no words came. Only broken sounds, only the tremors wracking her frame. When the final wave hit, she had no choice but to muffle the scream, sinking her teeth into his shoulder, trembling violently as she squirted.

The moment she clenched around him, something in Sasuke snapped. He hadn't meant to thrust that hard—to sink that deep—but the sound she made, breathless and broken, wiped every rational thought from his mind. His grip tightened, his pace turning erratic, driven by something darker, needier. He barely recognised himself, barely cared. He just needed to push her further, needed to feel her break again and again.

"Fuuuuuck," she whimpered, voice breaking as molten pleasure spilled down her trembling thighs. "Y-you're dangerous…" Her words fractured into a choked gasp, another searing wave twisting through her belly. She clung to his shoulders, her bruising grip desperate for something to tether her to reality.

Their eyes locked so close their tattered breaths mingled. A wicked smirk ghosted her lips, pleasure-drunk and taunting. "I bet she couldn't do this… you needed a real woman…" She rolled her hips, grinding down onto him, stealing what little breath he had left. "Not some weak little girl."

Sasuke's wry smirk was all the answer she needed. Samui was no delicate flower. She was a woman. Sakura had the fire, the obsession—but never the will to seize him completely. With her, it had always been a dance. With Samui, it was a claim.

"Want to continue this at my place?" she murmured, her voice husky and teasing. "I promise the acoustics are better…"

Sasuke exhaled sharply as her walls clenched around him, his grip tightening. His dark eyes burned into hers, heavy with hunger, as if even a moment apart would fray his sanity. The scent of sake lingered on her breath, sweet and intoxicating. Even still, he gave a slow yet measured nod.

Samui smirked, licking her lips. "Mmm… good boy."

His fingers clamped around her chin before she could utter another word, his scowl sharp with a warning. "Don't… say that."

A shiver rippled through her, pleasure curling along her spine. But instead of backing down, she held his gaze, her pupils blown wide with devilish need. Slowly, deliberately, her tongue flicked out, tasting the fingers that held her captive.

"Good boy," she purred again, her voice dripping with sinful delight.

Sasuke scoffed as she began to pull him along.

As they moved through the quiet streets, Samui's smirk softened, fingers threading through his with ease. The cool night air did little to temper the heat between them. She led him with quiet confidence, her usual sharp wit yielding to something slower, more deliberate. At her doorstep, she turned to him, gaze warm and searching. "Come inside," she murmured.

In the dim light of her room, she shed her clothes slowly, fabric sliding over golden skin. Sasuke's breath hitched—she was even more breathtaking than his imagination allowed. But as his gaze roamed her body, she hesitated, arms shifting to shield her stomach. A deep scar marred her abdomen, shame flickering in her expression. Without a word, Sasuke reached out, gently tipping her arms away, his fingers brushing the mark with quiet reverence. She looked away, but he didn't let her hide.

"I hate it," she muttered, her gaze low.

Without hesitation, Sasuke lowered himself to his knees, his lips brushing the scar with reverence. He lingered there, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against it.

"I don't," he murmured, his voice steady, unwavering. "Everything about you is beautiful."

Samui's breath hitched, something raw flickering across her face. A moment later, she pushed him onto the bed, eyes glistening. "You really know how to make a woman feel special, don't you?"

Sasuke held her gaze, his fingers grazing her waist. "You already are."

She sank onto him with aching slowness, her breath trembling as she took him in, inch by inch. Her fingers traced his chest as if grounding herself, her tear-bright eyes never leaving his. Every movement was deliberate, savouring him not just with her body but with something deeper.

"A man did this to me," she whispered. "When he couldn't have his way with me... he tried to take it away..." she rubbed her hand over her pouch.

Sasuke stilled beneath her, his breath sharp, fingers tightening on her hips. His jaw clenched, the Sharingan flickering to life, but her hands pressed against his chest, steady, grounding. She rubbed his cheeks tenderly with her hands, her touch soft but insistent.

"The ability to give life," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't think much of it before that man, but now I know how much it means to men like that." She paused, her gaze searching his. "I know you are without a clan. I know you are without family. I know you have no partner. I can be all of it for you."

Sasuke's breath caught, his dark eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, his usual composure shattered by the weight of her request. "Samui," he began, his voice low and rough, "you barely know me. Your body... this isn't something to offer lightly."

Samui's eyes softened, her hand brushing against his cheek in an oddly tender gesture. She didn't pull back, didn't seem offended. "I see you. I've seen enough of you already to understand... don't ever underestimate a woman's instincts..." she said, her voice low yet laced with a quiet intensity. "And maybe you don't want this now. But I can see myself eventually caring for you."

Her gaze dropped to his chest, fingers absently tracing the edges of his muscles, and then slowly, she met his eyes again. "I want to spite him... take everything from the man who thought he could break me. I want to prove that his seed dies with him, and I will raise a new generation in its place. A stronger generation. One that will carry the strength of the shinobi world forward, and it will have nothing to do with him." Her lips curved into a bitter, almost ridiculing smile.

"Why me?" Sasuke murmured, his voice quieter now, "I'm an Uchiha. A leaf shinobi. A man who tried to murder your kage. A man with only one arm. A cripple. A criminal. I'm hardly worthy of love... of family..."

"No." she said, "You're strong. Brazenly strong. You're kind and intelligent. More than people would realise." she perked up with a smug look on her face, "And your cock is superb..."

Sasuke snorted, a flicker of amusement breaking through his usual stoicism. But before he could respond, Samui began to move, her hips rolling slowly and deliberately, savouring every inch of him. Her breath hitched, and her body trembled as she tried to hold still, but the determination in her eyes made his chest tighten.

"Use me," she whispered, her voice husky, hands splayed against his chest for balance. Her hips rose and fell, each motion a perfect collision of control and surrender. Confidence dripped from every movement, yet something deeper lingered in her gaze, raw and fragile. "I'm yours."

Sasuke's breath caught, his lone hand gripping her hip as she arched back, golden skin glistening in the dim light. His cock pulsed inside her, pressing against her abdomen, rolling her scar like waves on an ocean. His gaze lingered there, transfixed.

"Fuck..." she gasped, voice trembling. "How are you so big?"

Her thighs quivered as a deep, guttural moan ripped from her lips, her knees pressed together, locking in place. Her golden hair cascaded around their bodies, a curtain of heat and sweat falling onto his skin as she trembled above him.

Sasuke tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer, his breath uneven.

"Cu-cu—cumming—oh god—" Samui's voice shattered into incoherent gasps as her body seized, pleasure ripping through her like lightning. Her slick heat pulsed, sharp, wet spurts coating him as she ground her hips in slow, desperate circles, riding out the last waves of her climax.

A low growl rumbled from Sasuke's chest as he tightened his grip on her hip. In one swift, effortless motion, he flipped her onto her back. A startled gasp left her lips, but when her blue eyes met his, they darkened with want.

He hovered over her, pressing his weight onto her, a silent promise wrapped in his gaze.

Samui's legs wrapped around him instinctively, heels digging into his back, pulling him closer. She was trembling, her slick heat teasing his length as he hovered at her entrance. A single shiver ran through her spine as he pressed against her, teasing, just enough to make her whimper.

Sasuke's voice came low and rough, his breath hot against her skin. "Beg for it."

Samui's lips curled, a hint of smugness forming—until he thrust into her.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat as he set a relentless pace, each thrust sinking impossibly deep, dragging pleasure from her in jagged, breathless cries.

"Fuck, Sasuke," she gasped, her voice splintering, raw and desperate. "I-I can't breathe, I ca—oh god, oh god, it's too much, don't stop—"

Her body shuddered, a delicate tremor beginning deep within her core and rippling outward. Her knees locked together, thighs trembling as another orgasm overtook her, leaving her limbs weak and her vision hazy. She felt herself slipping, drifting in and out of consciousness, lost in the overwhelming intensity.

"Are you t-trying to kill me?" she whispered, voice shaky. "Please... c-cum. I'm begging you..."

Magma crept through his veins, heat coiling unbearably tight. His body seized, reaching the point of no return as Samui's legs locked around him, her entire body trembling beneath him.

Her hands clawed at his back, nails digging deep, urging him over the edge. "I'm gonna milk you now," she whispered, voice thick with need.

A ragged groan ripped from Sasuke's throat as his grip on her tightened, bruising and possessive. His entire body locked up as pleasure slammed into him, raw and all-consuming.

He came in thick, pulsing waves, heat spilling into her as she clenched around him, dragging him deeper, milking him for everything he had left. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath uneven, ragged, every exhale laced with the remnants of shattered restraint.

Samui moaned softly, savouring the way he filled her, the warmth of him settling deep inside. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him close, her fingers threading through the damp strands of his hair, tracing lazy, soothing circles against his scalp.

Her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths.

"Good boy."

The early morning air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of rain from the night before. The sky was still painted in muted shades of dawn, clouds rolling lazily over the mountain peaks that framed Kumogakure.

Sasuke adjusted his cloak as he climbed the steps toward the Raikage's tower, the familiar weight of his sword resting against his hip. Beside him, Samui walked stiffly. Her uniform was neat, clean, and pressed, but there was still a familiar sexual aroma.

The entrance to the Raikage's office loomed ahead, guarded by two shinobi standing rigid in their posts. When Sasuke approached, their eyes flickered with instinctual wariness. But they said nothing, merely stepping aside to grant him entry.

Sasuke didn't knock. He pushed open the heavy doors, stepping inside with the quiet confidence of someone who had done this before. Samui followed, her presence both an escort and a statement.

Behind the massive desk, the Raikage sat with arms crossed, golden eyes sharp and assessing. Ay was as formidable as ever, broad shoulders squared, his presence demanding attention even in stillness. His gaze flicked from Sasuke to Samui, lingering just long enough for a knowing smirk to pull at the corner of his mouth.

"Didn't expect you to bring company," Ay remarked, his deep voice carrying amusement.

Samui didn't flinch. "I was ordered to escort him."

Ay let out a short huff, something between approval and amusement, before shifting his attention fully to Sasuke.

"Your scroll," he said, reaching for the sealed document on his desk. "Straight from the Hokage. It's been reviewed. I see no reason to keep you here any longer."

Sasuke stepped forward, taking the scroll without hesitation. His fingers brushed over the wax seal, tracing the familiar imprint of Konoha's insignia.

"Good," he muttered.

The Raikage studied him momentarily, then leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the desk. "I assume you're heading straight out?"

Sasuke gave a single nod. "There's no reason to stay."

Ay glanced toward Samui, something unreadable flickering across his face before he exhaled through his nose. "Hn. I'll consider your presence in my village settled, then. Try not to make a habit of showing up unannounced, Uchiha."

Sasuke didn't react. It wasn't a threat—just a reminder.

As he turned, scroll secured, Samui fell into step beside him. The doors swung open once more, the cool morning air rushing in to greet them as they stepped back into the streets of Kumogakure.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, casually, Samui glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "So," she mused. "You're just going to leave without saying anything?"

Sasuke adjusted his cloak, stepping down the stairs without missing a beat.

A slow smirk curved her lips.

"Hn," she murmured, amused. "Cold as ever, pretty boy."

The descent from the Raikage's tower was slow; the village bathed in the pale gold of morning. The scent of damp stone lingered from last night's rain, and the streets—though waking—were far from crowded. Samui walked beside Sasuke, her pace steady, posture composed, betraying nothing.

But Sasuke noticed how her fingers twitched at her sides and how her shoulders tensed ever so slightly with each step.

She hadn't said a word since they left the Raikage's office.

The village gates loomed in the distance, the final threshold between him and the road ahead. He didn't expect a send-off. He didn't need one. He had what he came for.

Then he felt it.

A shift in the air.

Samui stopped first.

"Well, well," a voice drawled, smug and dripping with amusement. "Didn't think I'd see you again, princess."

Sasuke barely turned his head, but he felt the way Samui stiffened beside him—so slight, so controlled, anyone else would have missed it.

The man who approached had a casual swagger and dark eyes gleaming with the kind of confidence from years of never facing the consequences. His features were sharp, but age had begun to etch lines into his skin. He wasn't remarkable—broad-shouldered, mid-rank shinobi build—but something in his smirk made Sasuke's fingers twitch near the hilt of his sword.

Samui's expression remained unreadable, a mask of pure indifference. "You should keep walking."

The man snorted. "Come on now. That's no way to greet an old friend." His eyes flicked to Sasuke, dismissing him instantly. "What's this? You got yourself an escort?" His smirk widened. "Or maybe you finally figured out what your holes are for ?"

Sasuke noticed how Samui's breath faltered—just for a fraction of a second, but long enough.

The man took a step closer, tilting his head. "What, nothing to say? No sharp tongue today?" He clicked his tongue. "Not surprising. You were always better when you shut up and let a real man take charge." His grin turned cruel. "You were such a tight little thing back then… and now? I bet you're pretty loose now, huh?"

Still, Samui didn't react. Didn't even blink. Sasuke watched as her jaw tightened, the muscles in her forearm flexing as her fingers curled around the handle of a kunai hidden in her back pocket. A controlled breath, a shift in her stance—every movement deliberate, restrained. A woman in the crowd lowers her gaze, cupping her daughter's ears.

'A man from this village did this to me… when he couldn't have his way with me.'

The man leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into something lower, something slimy. "I've been hearing things, you know. About how you've been warming up to visitors. Guess even a stuck-up bitch like you would've learnt her place eventually."

Sasuke exhaled slowly, his breath barely disturbing the charged silence. He hadn't moved, and his stance was unchanged, but the space around him had warped.

Heavy. Suffocating. Inescapable.

It pressed against the crowd like an invisible vice, thickening the air in their lungs. A few civilians, who had been pretending not to listen, suddenly found themselves frozen mid-step. Market vendors stalled in their haggling, their eyes flicking toward Sasuke as if waiting for something—dreading something.

The tension crept in, slow at first. Recognition dawned on the faces of a few older shinobi, their postures shifting ever so slightly. Someone whispered his name.

"That's Uchiha Sasuke."

A ripple of unease passed through the gathered villagers.

Samui's fingers twisted together, slick with sweat, her knuckles whitening as her gaze flickered between the two men—sharp, restless.

At first, the man strutted forward, his smirk cocky, his voice dripping with lazy amusement. But when Samui didn't respond—didn't scowl, didn't spit venom, didn't so much as blink—something shifted.

His next laugh was just a little too forced. His words stretched just a little too long as if searching for the same control he always had.

Then the air changed.

He didn't notice it the way the others did. Not like the civilians who stiffened. Not like the older shinobi whose hands instinctively twitched toward their weapons. But he felt it. Some primal part of him recognized the weight pressing in, the suffocating force that turned words to dead air in his throat.

Still, he tried. A weaker step forward. A smirk that faltered at the edges.

"Does an ant ever notice the boot over its head?" Sasuke murmured, his voice calm, unreadable.

The man sneered, stepping closer, breath thick with stale tobacco and rot. "Getting friendly with a Konoha nin, are we?" His smirk widened, venom dripping from every syllable. "Guess that stinking, stretched-out cunt of hers still has some use after all."

Silence.

The man was still grinning, but the shift in the air grew heavier. The crowd was holding its breath now. A woman selling fish wrapped her hand around her child's wrist, pulling them back with slow, deliberate caution. A group of shinobi near a food stall shared wary glances, hands drifting toward their weapons—not out of hostility, but instinct.

"I guess not," Sasuke whispered under his breath. His eyes regarded the man with cold composure, and he smiled flatly.

The man's body hesitated—a fraction of a second. Too late.

A shift. A blur.

For a moment, nothing happened. The man stood there, smirking, his hand still raised in a mocking manner. He lifted his fingers to his lips—only to feel them slip away.

The front half of his head didn't drop immediately. Instead, it peeled —skin splitting from forehead to chin in a grotesque, yawning fissure. The smirk remained, frozen in place, but his eyes flickered with something new—confusion, then terror—as his half-severed tongue twitched uselessly.

Then, with a wet, obscene plop, his brain slid free, spilling onto the ground like overripe fruit bursting from its skin.

The body remained standing, grotesquely intact for a moment too long, as though unaware of its death. Then, finally—it collapsed.

A thick, gelatinous mass of blood and brain matter splattered against the street, steaming in the morning chill.

Sasuke crinkled his nose, flicking his blade clean with a practised motion before sheathing it. He cracked his neck with a bored indulgence.

The street had fallen silent all around them. Civilians stood frozen, wide-eyed, and horror-stricken. But no one moved, no one screamed. No one dared.

There was only the sound of the man's still waggling tongue.

He had made sure there were witnesses. He had made sure they understood.

A few shinobi exchanged uneasy glances. One of them, an older jōnin, slowly stepped forward, eyes darting between the ruined corpse and Sasuke. His throat bobbed with a dry swallow.

"Uchiha…" he began carefully, "... you have murdered in broad daylight. The Raikage will not be pleased to hear about this..."

Sasuke didn't bother looking at him. Instead, he waved lazily toward the body, addressing the shinobi with a callousness that could only come from decades of trained brutality.

"Tough. Just clean it up..."

The jōnin hesitated. Then, without another word, he signalled his subordinates forward.

"He's gotten even worse…" one of the villagers said off-handedly. "The Uchiha always think they can play god."

Samui let out a slow breath. "Huh."

Sasuke turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze.

Her expression was impassive. Almost indifferent. But her lips were parted just a little too much. Her pupils were just a fraction wider than before. She was composed—rigidly so—but how her fingers curled at her sides? The slight flush along her neck?

'Oh, she liked it.'

Sasuke pivoted and walked toward the village gates, leaving the corpse and the gaping crowd behind.

Samui followed, falling into step beside him, her voice smooth, almost amused. "You have a mean streak, pretty boy."

Sasuke exhaled through his nose. "He was going to touch me. It was self-defence."

Samui hummed, her gaze flicking toward him as they left the village behind.

"Yeah," she murmured loud enough for him to hear. "I think I might want to, too."

Sasuke didn't look at her. But the corner of his mouth twitched.

As they approached the village gates, he turned to her with his hand buried in his hair. "I've considered your offer. I will not accept your conditions."

Samui scoffed, her fingers trailing lower, grazing him with deliberate slowness, her eyes dark with wicked amusement. "I was never going to ask for your permission, pretty boy."

A faint smirk ghosted across his lips before he turned away. His voice was low but carried through the cool morning air. "Fair."

Without another word, he strode forward, leaving her standing at the gates as he embarked on his path.

The encounter lingered in his mind, her words sharp, her presence sharper. She was a storm in human form—unpredictable, relentless. He had been tempted, very tempted, but he knew better than to trust her completely. And yet, something about her audacity gnawed at him, a force he couldn't quite dismiss. He shuddered while thinking of her body, those beautiful curves incapable of leaving his thoughts. ' It's always a red-head... pink-haired, blonde... '

His steps slowed.

The homeless old man from yesterday stood unmoving in the middle of the path. Sasuke hadn't sensed his approach or felt him there until now. The air between them grew dense, thick with something unseen, something ancient.

"Who are you?" Sasuke's voice was cold, demanding.

The old man didn't move, didn't blink. His sightless eyes seemed to pierce straight through Sasuke, stripping him bare. Finally, he murmured, his voice like wind through dying embers.

"Seek Hanabi Hyuga."

Sasuke's brow twitched. ' Who the fuck is that? '

His mind sifted through names, his irritation mounting. 'Would Naruto's friend know? She's a Hyuga, too, isn't she? H… Hin something. Hinata. Right. '

The old man's next words sent an involuntary shiver up Sasuke's spine.

"Go now, reincarnation of Indra."

But by the time he looked again—the old beggar was gone.

He stood still for a long moment, jaw tightening.

With a slow exhale, he pulled out the scroll from the Raikage, flicking the wax seal off with a kunai. His eyes scanned the contents.

To: Uchiha Sasuke

From: The Sixth Hokage

— Preliminary reports indicate unnatural lunar activity.

— Potential ties to Otsutsuki relics discovered.

— Priority one: Investigate and confirm the source of lunar destabilisation.

— Priority two: Report findings and await further directive.

— Priority three: Investigate the disappearance of the Hyuga clan head.

— The moon is falling, Sasuke. Please come home. XOXO... Kakashi Sensei.

Sasuke stared.

Then, after a long pause, he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Of course it is."