The morning sun crept through the window, casting a golden glow over the room. Soft light timidly illuminated her face, warming her skin as she stirred. Sakura slowly opened her eyes, her vision hazy with sleep, and the first thing she saw was him.
Sasuke was already awake, lying on his side, his dark eyes settled on her. He didn't move, didn't look away—not yet. It was rare to catch him so unguarded, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt heavier in the morning stillness.
She smiled without thinking, a quiet, instinctive response to the warmth of his gaze.
The moment shattered in an instant. Sasuke blinked, his expression closing off as he abruptly turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Then, without another word, he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"We should go over our plan," he said, his voice steady but just a little too quick, too controlled. He stood, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on as if the movement alone could reset the atmosphere. "We need to be prepared for tonight."
Sakura exhaled softly, sitting up as well. The shift in topic was expected, but it did nothing to erase the lingering warmth in her chest.
Still, she nodded. "Right. The mission."
Sakura sat on the edge of the bed, tying her hair up as she glanced over at Sasuke. He had already pulled on his shirt, his expression composed as he thought over their next steps.
"Do you even know what a red party is?" she asked, raising a brow.
Sasuke barely spared her a glance. "No," he admitted, fastening his arm guard. "But it doesn't matter. What's essential is getting close to the enemy."
Sakura hummed, unconvinced. "It might matter if we walk in completely unprepared." She stood, stretching her arms over her head before tilting her head toward the window. "I saw a shop near the hotel last night. They probably know what people wear to one of these things."
He sighed but didn't argue. "Fine. Let's go."
The shop was nestled between a bakery and a bookstore, its entrance framed by a set of faded red curtains. A small bell chimed as they stepped inside, the scent of incense and old fabric filling the space. Behind the wooden counter stood an older woman, her silver hair twisted into a loose bun. She looked up from folding a length of silk and offered them a warm smile.
"Welcome, dears. What can I do for you?"
Sasuke was about to speak, but Sakura beat him to it. "We need clothes for a red party," she said casually.
The woman's hands froze mid-fold. Her eyes flickered between them, and suddenly, her expression changed. A soft pink dusted her cheeks, and the corners of her lips twitched as if she were suppressing a laugh.
"Oh my," she murmured, placing the fabric aside. "A red party, you say?"
Sasuke frowned slightly at her reaction, but Sakura only nodded. "Yes. Do you have anything appropriate for that kind of event?"
The woman let out a small, knowing hum before turning toward a nearby rack. She pulled out two robes—one deep red, the other black—both made of silk, the fabric smooth and luxurious. Along with them, she retrieved two masks, simple yet elegant, designed to conceal only the upper half of the face.
"These should do," she said, handing them over. "And don't forget—" she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "masks are very important."
Sakura blinked, glancing at Sasuke, who only held the garments stiffly in his hand. The woman never actually explained what the red party was, but her smirk said enough.
"Enjoy yourselves," she added with a playful glint in her eye before turning away to tend to another pile of fabric.
Sasuke exhaled through his nose and turned toward the door without another word.
Sakura, on the other hand, couldn't suppress her smirk. "Well," she mused as they stepped outside, "that was... interesting."
As they stepped out of the store, the sun was still high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the streets. The afternoon air buzzed with the hum of conversations and merchants calling out to passersby. Their walk back to the hotel was unhurried, their footsteps falling into a natural rhythm.
Sakura glanced at Sasuke, tucking her mask under her arm. "You know, I think our story worked," she mused. "About you being a writer. No one seemed suspicious of us last night."
Sasuke gave a slight nod.
She smirked. "I wasn't sure we would be able to pull it off."
He scoffed, side-eyeing her, but before he could respond, he suddenly leaned in, bringing his lips close to her ear.
"Stay in character," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.
Before she could react, he withdrew, brushing his lips against her cheek as if simply showing affection to his wife. It was brief, fleeting, but enough to send a strange warmth curling through her stomach. Her heart started racing.
Sakura knew it was part of the act. That didn't stop her from feeling the weight of it.
They reached the hotel without incident, and as soon as the door shut behind them, Sasuke straightened. "I think someone was following us," he admitted. "I couldn't be sure, but I didn't want to take any risks."
Sakura exhaled, nodding. "Good thinking," she agreed, setting her things down still blushing.
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Sasuke, still feeling the weight of the day, muttered something about taking a quick shower and disappeared into the bathroom.
Sakura pulled out the robes they had been given. She smoothed out the fabric with a critical eye before plugging in the small iron in the corner of the room. The rhythmic sound of steam filled the air as she carefully pressed out the wrinkles, starting with Sasuke's robe first.
The bathroom door clicked open a few minutes later, and Sasuke stepped out, his damp hair clinging to his skin, a towel draped over his shoulders. He ran his hand through his hair before his gaze landed on the neatly ironed robes laid out on the bed.
He paused, blinking.
Sakura didn't seem to notice his surprise as she unplugged the iron and set it aside. "This should be fine," she said, holding up the robe to examine her work.
Sasuke stood there for a moment longer before finally looking away.
"…Thanks," he muttered.
It had been a long time since anyone had done ironed his clothes for him.
Sakura glanced at him, but instead of commenting, she simply handed him his robe. "Alright, let's get ready."
Sasuke sat on the edge of the bed, rolling his stiff shoulder as Sakura gathered a few things from her bag. The silence between them was comfortable, but there was an unspoken awareness lingering in the air—something fragile, something new.
"I'll get ready in the bathroom," Sakura finally said, glancing at him. "Since you already showered."
He gave a short nod. "Fine."
She disappeared behind the door, and he let out a slow breath before standing. He dressed quickly, slipping the black robe over his bare skin, adjusting it as best as he could with one arm. The fabric was smooth, heavier than he expected, but it fit well enough. He ran his fingers through his hair, not bothering to do much else, and sat back down, waiting.
The bathroom door creaked open behind him.
"Sasuke, are you—" Sakura's voice trailed off as she stepped out.
He turned, and whatever words he had prepared to say died on his tongue.
She stood there in the red robe, the silky fabric clinging to her in a way that made his throat dry. Her hair, usually tied back for practicality, cascaded in soft curls. But it was her lips that caught his attention the most—painted a deep, blood-red shade that made his heart do something strange in his chest.
He stared.
Too long.
Sakura's brows pinched together in worry. She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. "I-Is it that bad?" she asked, hesitance lacing her voice.
His eyes widened slightly. "No," he said quickly, too quickly. Then, quieter, almost to himself—"Beautiful."
Her lips parted slightly.
Realizing what he just said, he straightened abruptly, clearing his throat. "I mean—you look… well. Healthy." He winced internally. "I mean, good. Yeah. Let's go."
Sakura blinked, then let out a soft chuckle.
He didn't respond, already turning for the door, but she caught the slight tinge of red dusting his ears. A small smile played on her lips as she followed him out.
There was a carriage waiting for them. The carriage ride was quiet. The clip-clop of the horses echoed in the night, the city lights flickering past as they sat side by side in silence. Benjiro had sent the carriage for them, a sleek black vehicle drawn by two well-groomed horses. The gesture had been a show of hospitality, but to Sasuke, it only served as a reminder that they were walking straight into something unknown.
Sasuke kept his gaze forward, occasionally glancing at their surroundings, while Sakura smoothed down the fabric of her robe, her fingers idly running over the silky material.
When they arrived, the entrance was grand—tall, dark wood doors standing imposingly at the end of a long path illuminated by paper lanterns. A man in a deep red robe greeted them as they stepped out of the carriage.
"Welcome," he said smoothly, bowing slightly before extending a gloved hand. "Your invitation?"
Sasuke handed it over without a word.
The man examined the seal before nodding approvingly. "You may enter. A reminder—tonight, no one is to remove their masks." His voice dropped slightly, a practiced hush that sent a strange chill through the air. "Words are secondary. Let your bodies speak. Enjoy the communion."
Sakura stiffened beside him. Sasuke's fingers twitched at his side.
The doors creaked open.
Golden light spilled into the entrance, and as they stepped inside, the sight before them sent a jolt through Sakura's spine.
Bodies.
Bare. Tangled. Moving.
The room was grand, yet the details of its luxury faded into the background against the overwhelming sight of flesh and movement. Everyone was masked—ornate designs of black, red, and gold covering their faces—but nothing else was left to the imagination.
Sakura sucked in a sharp breath.
A woman in a sleek, dark robe approached them, a knowing smile on her lips. "Please," she purred, gesturing gracefully. "You may remove your robes and join the festivities."
Sasuke stilled. Then, with practiced ease, he brought a hand to his face, rubbing at his eye as if something had irritated it.
"Tch," he muttered, turning slightly. "Damn it."
Sakura caught on instantly.
"Are you okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice as she placed a hand on his arm.
He exhaled sharply. "I just—need a minute."
Without waiting for a response, he tugged her toward a nearby hallway, past silk curtains and flickering candlelight. The moment they found a bathroom, he pushed the door open and shut it behind them, locking it with a quick flick of his wrist.
Inside the dimly lit bathroom, the sound of muffled laughter and movement from beyond the door felt deafening. Sakura leaned against the sink, arms crossed, while Sasuke paced, his jaw tight.
"We can't stay," he stated flatly. His lone hand clenched into a fist at his side. "This is ridiculous."
Sakura exhaled through her nose. "If we leave now, we lose our advantage."
He turned sharply to face her. "You think this is worth it?" His voice was low but sharp, frustration evident in the way his eyes darkened.
"I think," she said, keeping her tone even, "that if we leave, we won't get another chance to gain Benjiro's trust."
Sasuke exhaled through his nose, glaring at the door as if it personally offended him. He hated this. Every part of it. But she was right.
He clicked his tongue. "Fine."
Sakura nodded. "We just have to act like we belong."
Sasuke looked at her like she'd lost her mind.
She sighed. "Not like that. We just… have to be convincing."
His scowl deepened, but he pushed open the door, stepping out with stiff determination.
As they reentered the main hall, the heat of flickering candlelight and murmured conversations pressed against them. The same woman from before gestured toward them, expectantly waiting.
With a sharp breath, Sasuke undid the knot of his robe and let it fall.
His entire body tensed as cool air hit his skin. He focused on the ceiling almost immediately, his jaw locked so tight it ached. Beside him, Sakura was just as stiff, standing with her arms at her sides, clearly forcing herself to breathe normally.
Sasuke hadn't looked at her—not directly—but he could feel her presence beside him like a pulse.
He kept his gaze on the ceiling.
"Sasuke," she whispered. "You need to relax a little."
"Tch."
"You're drawing attention to yourself."
She was right.
Even as he stared at the ceiling, he could feel the weight of eyes on them. A group of masked figures approached, moving with slow, deliberate confidence.
"My, my," a woman murmured, trailing a hand down his bare shoulder. "A little shy, aren't we?"
Another man chuckled, stepping closer. "Don't worry," he mused, voice laced with amusement. "By the end of the night, you'll be having so much fun, you might even grow that arm back."
Sasuke froze.
His entire body coiled tight, his muscles flexing as his mind went blank with cold fury. His eyes snapped toward the man, already calculating how hard he'd have to hit him—
But then he saw them.
Benjiro.
Nora.
Standing across the room, watching.
Sasuke inhaled sharply and forced himself to relax.
Instead of responding, he merely exhaled through his nose, stepping back just enough to create distance.
"Oh?" the woman pouted, tilting her head. "No need to be nervous."
"Are you trading tonight," another voice asked, "or going classical?"
Sasuke didn't hesitate.
"Classical."
Sakura was grateful he answered first because she wasn't sure she would have been able to keep her voice steady.
A figure gestured toward a section of the room lined with sheer curtains, where large, plush beds were arranged in rows, each surrounded by its own drapery for privacy.
"This way."
Sasuke swallowed his discomfort and followed.
Inside, candlelight flickered against the silk walls, and the distant sounds of movement—of whispered words and soft laughter—surrounded them like an oppressive weight.
His stomach twisted.
He stepped into one of the partitioned spaces, the curtains falling behind them, enclosing them in a private bubble of dim golden light.
He refused to look anywhere but up.
Sakura did the same.
Neither of them spoke.
Outside their enclosed space, the sounds of soft gasps and muffled murmurs filled the air.
Sasuke clenched his jaw. "This is hell."
Sakura exhaled slowly, still staring at the ceiling. "We just have to get through it."
Silence stretched between them.
Sasuke exhaled sharply. "Let's make a plan."
Sakura sat beside him, her arms folded as she whispered, "We need to get to Benjiro before he leaves. We can't let this night end without at least speaking to him."
Sasuke nodded, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. "He's the key. We just have to be patient."
The low hum of conversation and laughter buzzed around them, the muted candlelight casting shifting shadows on the silk drapery. As they strategized, Sakura's expression shifted, her posture stiffening.
Sasuke immediately noticed. "What is it?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she hissed, "Lay down. Now."
He barely had time to process before she moved.
Without explanation, she straddled him, pressing her hands to his chest as she leaned down. Her breath was warm against his collarbone, her weight settling against him in a way that sent a jolt of something sharp through his veins.
His heartbeat—already quick from the mission—thumped against her palm. His breathing hitched, suddenly uneven.
A second later, the curtain was ripped aside.
Sasuke's eyes snapped to the figure standing there.
Benjiro.
The man smirked. "Kenji," he drawled. "I would like to invite you to a private meeting."
Sasuke didn't hesitate. He nodded, forcing his voice to remain calm. "Give me a minute to wrap this up."
Benjiro chuckled, his gaze flickering to Sakura before he grinned knowingly. "Of course. Enjoy your beautiful wife."
With that, the curtain fell shut.
The moment they were alone again, Sakura practically rolled off of him, sitting up with a sharp breath. "Sorry," she murmured, her face turned away. "I felt him approaching."
Sasuke didn't move at first. He couldn't.
His pulse was still erratic, his body tense in ways he hadn't expected.
"Sasuke?" she asked softly.
He swallowed, shifting to sit up. He turned his back to her, eyes closing as he evened out his breathing. He needed to calm down.
A few more seconds. Just a moment to steady himself.
"…Are you okay?" she asked again.
His voice was lower than usual when he finally spoke. "Give me a minute."
Sakura nodded, though he couldn't see it. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noticing the way his was covering his face with his hand trying to steady his breath.
She turned away, her face warm.
"…I'm sorry," he murmured.
She wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.
But she didn't ask.
Sasuke took a slow breath, pushing aside the lingering discomfort from before. He had to focus. Turning to Sakura, he kept his voice low but firm.
"Stay here. It's safer. I'll come back for you once the meeting is over."
She nodded, still not meeting his gaze. He wasn't sure if it was because of what just happened or because they were still surrounded by muffled sounds of intimacy. Either way, he didn't have time to dwell on it. He stood and left, making his way through the party.
Before stepping into the meeting room, someone handed him his robe. He put it on, adjusting it over his shoulder as he pulled off his mask. The room was small, dimly lit by lanterns, with only a handful of people gathered inside. Benjiro stood at the center, watching them all with a pleased expression.
"I needed to ensure that I could trust each of you," Benjiro began, pacing slowly. "What you're about to see is the future. A future without the chaos of shinobi, without the fear they impose on others."
Sasuke stayed silent, watching as Benjiro gestured for them to follow. He led them to a hidden passage that descended below the main level of the building. The air turned damp as they walked, the scent of earth and something metallic filling Sasuke's nose. Then, the hallway opened up into a larger underground chamber lined with prison cells.
Inside, dozens of people were crammed together—injured, weak, stripped of their dignity. Some barely moved, their eyes vacant. Others pressed themselves against the bars, their hands trembling as they gripped the metal. Sasuke scanned their faces, noting the forehead protectors that some still clung to. They were shinobi.
One man staggered toward the bars and reached out, but the moment he did, his arm gave out beneath him, as if his body refused to respond properly. That's when Sasuke noticed it—the complete lack of chakra signatures in every single prisoner.
"They're shinobi," one of the men in the meeting muttered, his voice uncertain.
"They were," Benjiro corrected smoothly. "They are no longer a threat. What you see before you is the result of my research. These men and women once wielded power that made them untouchable, but I have found a way to strip them of it entirely. Their chakra is severed, permanently. No more jutsu. No more bloodlines passed down like curses. No more children trained from birth to be killers."
Sasuke's fingers curled into his robe. He forced himself to look interested rather than furious.
"How?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.
Benjiro smiled, pleased by his curiosity. "A particular venom—harvested and perfected. One bite, and their chakra network collapses, never to recover. A slow, irreversible process. We have already begun testing it on young recruits, ensuring they never awaken their abilities."
A better world. That's what Benjiro was trying to create. A world without shinobi.
Sasuke let his gaze drop, allowing his expression to shift just enough. He reached for his missing arm, letting his fingers graze the fabric where his sleeve was pinned. He swallowed hard, tilting his head slightly downward. A tear slipped from his eye.
Benjiro stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I know what they took from you, Kenji." His voice was gentle, coaxing. "But together, we will build something better. No more wars. No more children raised for slaughter."
Sasuke exhaled shakily, nodding as if he were moved. "A dream…" he murmured.
Benjiro squeezed his shoulder. "Not just a dream. A reality—if you stand with us."
Sasuke closed his eyes briefly before nodding again. "Of course. I want that future too."
Benjiro smiled, satisfied. "Then we'll talk more over lunch tomorrow. For tonight, enjoy yourself. You have a beautiful wife waiting for you, after all."
Sasuke barely heard the last part. His mind was already racing, filing away every piece of information. He had to get back to Sakura.
Sasuke walked through the dimly lit hallways with Benjiro at his side, his mind still racing from everything he had just seen. The weight of the conversation settled heavily on his shoulders, but he forced himself to maintain the composure of a man who had just found purpose rather than one who was plotting against everything Benjiro stood for.
They arrived at the secluded section of the room where he had left Sakura. With a practiced ease, Sasuke pulled back the curtain, and the sight before him made him pause.
She was asleep.
She had no robes on, her body draped only in the soft linens of the bed. She looked so unguarded like this, so different from the determined kunoichi who had insisted they stay.
He lowered himself next to her, reaching out with his only hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, his touch barely skimming her skin.
"You'll catch a cold like this," he murmured, his voice quieter than intended. There was something strangely intimate about watching her sleep, about the way he could speak so softly and know she wouldn't hear him.
But she stirred, her brows drawing together before her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked up at him, still groggy from sleep, her lips parting slightly in question.
He pulled his hand back. "Let's go home."
Sakura sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes before nodding. He turned to Benjiro and gave a small, polite bow. "Apologies. It's late, and my wife is tired."
Benjiro chuckled, crossing his arms. "No need to apologize. You should take good care of her, Kenji. A man like you is lucky to have a woman like that by his side."
Sasuke stiffened slightly but forced a small smile. "I know."
Benjiro clapped him on the back before stepping away. "We'll talk more at lunch tomorrow."
Sasuke gave a brief nod before taking Sakura's hand and leading her toward the exit. The ride back in the carriage was quiet. Neither of them spoke, lost in their own thoughts. Sasuke could feel her glancing at him occasionally, as if waiting for him to say something, but he didn't.
When they arrived at the hotel, they both turned their backs to each other. Sasuke discarded his robe while keeping his back turned, and so did Sakura, her robe lying discarded on the floor. They both then changed into their pajamas, still not facing one another.
Once dressed, Sasuke sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze on the floor, avoiding her eyes. He broke the silence with a low, careful tone.
"They're capturing shinobi and using some kind of venom to sever their chakra network permanently." His voice was strained, and he still didn't meet her gaze. "Benjiro wants to make sure there are no more shinobi in the future. He's starting with young recruits… plans to take enough of them that there won't be a next generation of chakra users."
Sakura inhaled sharply. "That's—"
"He's already begun."
Sasuke stood up, walking a few steps away, his back still turned to her. He had to focus on something, anything, to keep himself from spiraling. His emotions were a mess, and he didn't want her to see that.
She sighed, then slipped under the covers, looking at him, but he didn't turn to face her. After a long pause, he heard her voice again.
"Are you going to sleep?"
He stopped pacing, his hands clenched at his sides. "I'll sleep," he said, his tone tired but sharp. "Just give me a minute."
Without saying anything else, Sasuke finally lay down beside her, turning his back to her, the space between them feeling too wide, too unfamiliar. He could hear her shifting in the bed next to him.
His breath, though quiet, was uneven as he tried to calm himself, but the tension didn't leave. He could feel her presence behind him, but neither of them spoke for a long while.
Sakura closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his irregular breathing. She could tell something was off, but she didn't press. They both needed rest, but the weight of everything—Benjiro's words, the dangerous path ahead—hung heavy between them.
And, eventually, they both drifted off to sleep, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts.
They were too lost in thought to think about the peace.