Fourteen Dates- fanfic

“What do you think people will say when we get back to Konoha?”

“That I’m a cradle-robber, most likely. That I’m a Svengali—that I’ve hypnotized you with the Sharingan and stolen away your free will. That this has been going on since you were twelve.”

”I don’t think they’ll say that.”

”You don’t?”

“No. Our friends will be happy for us. And I really don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. Life is too short and mean not to grab at a chance for happiness wherever we find it. I think every shinobi believes that, deep down. As for the civilians, they really don’t approve of our kind anyway, do they?”

“There’s definitely a divide between us. There’s respect, but also fear once they learn what our lives are really like, and a sense of loathing, too, I think. Our lives are drenched in blood, and they recognize that, and both appreciate and resent that it is done on their account.”

“Well, if you can’t win, fuck ‘em, right?”

“I really can’t imagine life without you, Sakura.” Kakashi laughed at her relentless optimism, then sighed. “You’re sure it won’t bother you to hear people talking about us behind your back, calling me a pedophile and you a poor, deluded victim?”

“We know the truth, Kakashi. Isn’t that enough?”

“I love you, Sakura.”

“How’s the arm?” She removed her hands from the site of the break, which had healed nicely, she thought.

He flexed his bicep and smiled. “Perfect. It’s stronger at the site of the break, isn’t it?”

“Yes. The tissue is a bit more dense there.”

“Maybe you should break the other one, too.”

“I didn’t realize you were a masochist, Kakashi.”

”Just joking, Sakura. I’m not going to let you live this down, you know.”

“I know, I know. So, what would you like your sex slave to do for you?”

“I’ll leave that up to you, Sakura-chan.”

“I think I’ll just explore, then. Will you tell me if you like what I’m doing?”

“Somehow, I think you’ll know.”

She touched her lips lightly to his, then brushed them gently over the hollow of his cheek, and along the long scar that bisected his eyelid.

“When I first saw your Sharingan, I was so surprised. I had thought you must be blind in that eye—why else would you keep it covered?” She traced her finger along the long scar that might have disfigured another face, but which seemed oddly appropriate—even attractive-- on the face of the copy ninja.

“Did it scare you?”

“Yes, actually. I’d never seen a Sharingan before and the fact that it was blood-red, and turned like a pinwheel was a bit frightening. Then I saw what you could do with it, and I was less scared, because it belonged to you, a person I completely trusted, not Zabuza or another enemy nin.” She gently kissed the scar, and Kakashi’s closed eye. “It doesn’t scare me anymore though. In fact, I find it quite attractive. It suits you.”

Kakashi smiled. “Smitten, are we?”

Sakura giggled. “Absolutely.”

”That makes two of us.”

Sakura moved her attentions to the elite jounin’s neck, seeking and finding the erogenous zone at the nape of his neck. He shuddered in response, moving his neck slightly to provide her better access. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathed in his ear, pausing to nip at its lobe and at the tender area behind the pinna. She ran the tip of her tongue along the curve of his neck, and lower still, along his collarbone, eliciting yet another shudder of delight from her partner.

She touched just the tip her tongue to his flat areolae and sprinklings of surrounding hair, then allowed her breath alone to caress him. She focused, then, on the multitude of scars that crisscrossed Kakashi’s chest and abdomen, pausing to kiss each in turn. “There’s a reason why you keep these, isn’t there?” A medic like Sakura could make short work of these imperfections, but obviously Kakashi sought to be reminded of the battle each scar represented. “Will you tell me the story behind each one, some time?”

Kakashi opened his eyes to regard the beautiful kunoichi before him. He nodded.

“I recognize this one, of course.” She ran her fingers across the long, puckered scar than ran diagonally across Kakashi’s chest. “I thought the kubikiri houcho would be the end of you—I was terrified that we would lose you. I learned a lot about strategy that day, although it probably didn’t seem like it, considering the meltdown I was having over Sasuke.”

“You were certainly a handful, Sakura. I wondered so many times why you were even bothering with training. All you thought about was Sasuke.”

”I wasn’t myself. I guess puberty does that to a person.”

Kakashi smiled as he pulled Sakura on top of him. “So, which scar would you like to know about?”

“This one, I think.” She touched the Sharingan scar again. “It’s the most mysterious. I think I know part of the story, though, from looking at your medical records. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Hmm. You wouldn’t have liked me as a teenager, Sakura. I was an even bigger jerk than Sasuke. A total prick, really. I treated my teammates like dirt. I had something to prove and they were in the way. Obito--who turned out to be my best friend, although I didn’t realize it until it was too late-- Obito drove me crazy, as much as Naruto drove Sasuke crazy. He was a crybaby, he was always late and full of excuses. I always did things by the book—he and his habits were completely alien to me.”

Sakura laughed incredulously. ”You’re kidding, right? You had a problem with him being late?”

“I wasn’t myself. Not the person you know, anyway. Not the person I became.” Kakashi was silent for a minute, as he reflected on the difference between the boy of twenty-odd years ago and the present man. “I had just been promoted to jounin, and I was full of myself—Yondaime, our sensei, had just given control of the team to me, and I was eager to take command and show his trust in me was not misplaced. Then our teammate was kidnapped and I ordered that we not follow her—we needed to put the mission first. Doing things exactly by the book was everything to me back then.”

”Wow. You really had a stick up your butt, didn’t you?”

“You could say that. Obito thought so, too. He told me that people who abandoned their teammates were worse than trash, and left to find Rin. I realized he was right, after a while, and pursued him. Rin was being held hostage. My face was slashed by an enemy kunai, and I lost my eye. Then Obito saved me from a landslide by pushing me out of the way and was half-crushed in the process. His dying wish was that I have his eye. He was an Uchiha, as you might have guessed. Rin was a medic, like you. She did the transplant.”

“I think I would have liked you, Kakashi, if I’d met you when I was twelve or thirteen. Even if you were a prick.” She laughed. “Probably more so, because of it. Your former self seems an awful lot like Sasuke. I probably would have followed you like a puppy dog, and gotten worse with each rejection.” She rolled her eyes at the memory of her outsized and misplaced devotion to Sasuke.

“And I would have treated you like shit. I’m sure of that. The dynamics of our team were eerily similar to those of team seven. Obito loved Rin, but she was stuck on me. I completely ignored her—I had no time for silly things like crushes.”

“Rin died young, didn’t she? I’ve only seen that name a few times in the medical records.”

“Yes, not long after Yondaime. They were all taken in quick succession.”

”You lost your whole team. They’re the ones you remember at the memorial stone.”

”Yes. I’ve never understood why I survived them. Any of them was by far a better person than I am.” She saw the pain in his eyes, and caught his face in her hands as he tried to turn away.

”I can’t agree with that, Kakashi, even though I never met them. You just don’t see the person you are, do you?”

Her openness, her earnestness would surely be his undoing, he thought. Not since he was a child had he been this transparent with anyone. But with Sakura, the words came flowing out, unrestrained and unprompted. “I see something in the way you look at me, Sakura, that makes me think there’s something worthwhile about me.”

“Who gets to live, and who gets to die doesn’t make sense, and it never will. But we don’t need to make sense of it, Kakashi. It’s enough just to be here, together, isn’t it?”

He sighed. ”Yes. I think it is. It’s more than I ever could have asked for.” He pulled her closer and crushed his lips against her. “You are so good for me, Sakura.”

“Lie down. I’m not done with you yet.” Her lopsided, yet somehow sultry smile disarmed him.

“Hai. You’re not going to hurt me again, are you?”

“Do you want me to? Forget I asked that, Kakashi-- I really don’t want to know. Just lie back and enjoy. No broken bones, I promise.” She straddled him, and looked up and down his trim, muscled form. “Now, where was I?”

“You were in the middle of driving me crazy.”

She ran her fingers lightly along his tight, defined abdominals. “Who would guess that under those sloppy, oversized clothes is an absolute god?” She lowered her head to kiss him again—this time along the line that defined the edge of his ribcage, then moved to the soft skin surrounding his navel. He twitched, clearly stifling a ticklish response, and Sakura snickered. “Your weak spot! The famed copy ninja is ticklish, it seems.” She quickly ran her fingernail along his side and was disappointed when there was no response. “You’re supposed to be relaxed, Kakashi.”

”No tickling, Sakura.” His voice was a growl.

“Well, since I’m your slave, I guess I have no choice but to obey.”

”Good answer. You’re learning fast.”

”Don’t I always?”

She ran her fingers along his hips, gently brushing her fingers along the indentation separating the muscles of his pelvis from those of his upper thighs. “So handsome," she murmured, almost too softly to hear, and followed the movement of her fingers with her parted lips. She reached his erect member, touching it gently, reveling again in its surprising feel, then gently ran her tongue along his length. A groan was her indication that her touch was appreciated. Emboldened, she continued her exploration. The tip, she knew, was most sensitive, but she also knew that anticipation would make the sensations she elicited that much more sweet to both of them. She allowed her fingers to caress him, watching interestedly as her touch caused him to swell, then slowly took him into her mouth. She heard his breath catch in his throat at this action, and Sakura smiled inwardly at her power over the seemingly invincible technical specialist. She allowed her tongue to flicker over his member’s most sensitive part, then took him deeper into her mouth, noting with pleasure his response to this simple movement. She mimicked the rhythm she’d encountered twice before, stopping every now and then to caress him with her tongue. She looked up to see an expression of complete bliss on Kakashi’s face. His eyes opened as she gazed at him.

“You’re a goddess, Sakura. How did you learn to do this?”

”Improvisation, Kakashi. And a bit of inspiration, I guess. Suki da yo.”

“Shinu hodo suki.”

“Don’t say that! I want us to be together for a long, long time.”

“Nothing will come between us, Sakura. I promise.” He reached down to gather her into his arms, but she resisted.

“No hands, Kakashi, remember? Besides, I’m still not finished.”

”You don’t have to, Sakura.”

”I want to. Lie back down, and let me show you how I feel.”

Kakashi smiled as he complied, gasping again as Sakura took him into her mouth, more deeply than before, quickly bringing him to his breaking point. He held back as long as he could, savoring every oral caress, but finally he reached the point of complete bliss, losing himself in the feelings she elicited in him. He allowed himself the luxury of savoring the near out-of-body experience, slowly regaining control of his body. Sakura, he noticed, was lying next to him, her fingers playing with a strand of his hair. He seemed to have lost a little bit of time. That was a first for him, he reckoned.

“I like how you taste. It’s not quite what I expected.”

“You never cease to surprise me, Sakura. Most women—“

”I’m not most women.”

“No, you’re not.” He pulled the beautiful kunoichi closer and marveled that his love for her was requited.

“So, do you want to go for a walk?” Sakura sat up and stretched, only to be pulled back to the bed.

“I told you this was an all-day thing, Sakura.” Kakashi’s growl was almost menacing.

She sighed. “Oh. Right. I thought we were finished.” The man was insatiable, it seemed. Not that it didn’t feel good—she certainly wasn’t complaining. But his single-mindedness bordered on obsession. Perhaps that was to be expected, though, given the similar degree of focus he placed on the Icha, Icha books. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, she supposed.

“Your turn, hana. Slide down to the bottom of the bed.” Kakashi left the bed to kneel at its foot, then gently parted his lover’s legs.

“No fair! Why are you out of bed?” Sakura sat up and glared at the copy ninja, furious at the double standard he’d imposed.

Kakashi looked at her with the indolent look she knew well, and spoke with a frustratingly calm voice. “I never said you couldn’t leave the bed, Sakura. I only said we weren’t finished. There are plenty of ways to make love that don’t require both partners lying in bed, and I’m planning on showing you some of them. Well, all of them, actually. Now lie back and let me show you how I feel.”

He parted her soft, warm lips and ran the tip of his tongue from her wet center to the apex of her sex, allowing his tongue to linger there. He felt her swell under his ministrations, and her thighs tighten around his head. He broke from this intimate embrace to admonish her. “Mind that superhuman strength, darling. It would be a shame if you broke my neck. Think of the explaining you’d have to do. Worse still, think how frustrated you’d be.” His words unleashed a torrent of giggles, and he settled back to his task to find her even more responsive than before. He was unrelenting in his caresses and expert in their application. Soon he found she was almost panting. “Come, Sakura,” he silently ordered her, and she did, bucking under him and clutching wildly at his hair.

He stopped for a few moments, then pushed her over the edge again and again, with soft, expert caresses.

“Irete, Kakashi. Please,” she moaned.

He ignored her pleas for him to make love to her, taunting her instead with slow movement of his lips and tongue against her fully sensitized tissues.

Finally, he joined her in the bed, pulling her up to lie fully among its many pillows. He quickly thrust into her tight wetness, but remained still once he did so.

“Kakashi?”

“You feel as good as you taste, Sakura. Are you ready to learn some more about applied chakra control?”

“I can’t imagine it being any better than it already is, but sure. Sensei.”

Kakashi looked at her with a guarded expression. “Not ‘sensei,’ Sakura. I don’t want to be that to you. ‘Senpai,’ maybe.”

“Senpai. Teach me.” Her lips found his.

“It’s like kissing, Sakura. Focus your chakra to your groin, and allow it to flow into me. I’ll do the same. Focus on the nerve endings you find. It should be simple enough for you, considering how skilled you are in this arena.”

“You’re easily as skilled as I am at chakra control.”

”There’s nothing wrong with just accepting a compliment every now and then, Sakura. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Kakashi moved inside of her, and Sakura felt a trickle of the intense energy that was his chakra. It was like stepping into a steaming hot bath, she thought. The heat was so intense that it almost felt cool, the sensation so extreme that it felt as though her body’s wiring was overloading. Yet no pain was involved-- it was incredibly, almost unbearably pleasurable. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to last more than a minute or two without climaxing, but she resolved to try. She focused her chakra, allowing it to pool at the place where their bodies touched, then tentatively allowed a very small amount of her cool, green energy to flow into him. He groaned in response. She let her chakra wind its way through the tissues of his member, noting the many neurons that ran through that terrain. She allowed fine tendrils of energy to enter each cluster of sensory cells, and felt Kakashi’s breath quicken as she did so.

“How does that feel?” She murmured.

Another groan was his only response, as he crushed his lips against hers and met her tongue with his own.

“I want to feel all of you. Deeper, Kakashi. Kudasai.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

He complied with her demand, and felt her tighten around him, as her body began to spasm in pleasure.

“Not yet, Sakura. Slow down and regain control. Do your best to make it last. Let the sensation build.”

“I don’t think I can—“

“Of course you can, Sakura. Use your training. It’s mind over matter.” His voice was dry as he slipped into teacher mode, easily adjusting his breathing as he lectured her, as though this were a routine lesson.

Sakura calmed her breathing and her pulse, backing away from the brink of the abyss of pleasure where she had teetered precariously. He continued thrusting deeply, however, filling the tissues comprising her sex with the heat of his chakra, and soon she found herself back where she’d been only minutes earlier.

“Iku! Iku!” She plunged into the abyss, taking him with her.

It was like she was falling, drowning in an ocean of pleasure, where wave after wave of intense sensation lapped against her skin, filled her every pore, fully permeated her flesh. This was different than before, because she was acutely aware that she wasn’t alone. She felt Kakashi with her, felt his chakra interacting with her own. She felt the turbulence of two such different energies meeting, and the roiling of the waves of pleasure they created. Slowly the waves crested, and built upon each other sympathetically until she screamed in a final release. She was aware of his release, as well, and of his throaty cry of ecstasy. The waves subsided, and she felt his arms around her, his head nestled against her chest.

“Kakashi.” Her voice was raw. How long had she been calling his name? “That was… That was…”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

“Sakura, even if I wasn’t deeply in love with you—“

”Yes?” She looked into his eyes, which were filled with mirth.

“Even if I wasn’t deeply, madly in love with you, I’d never, never let you go after that.”

”I suppose I should be flattered.”

“You don’t have much to compare it to.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Kimi wa tottemo taisetsu na hito nan da. I’m never going to let you go, Sakura-chan.”

”And I’ll never go, Kakashi.” She rolled over and hopped out of bed. “Now, can we get something to eat? I’m starving.”

Chapter 32: Public Displays—Ninth Date, part one

“Well, good morning, sleepy-head.” A chipper Kakashi pushed aside the shower curtain to regard the disheveled, groggy kunoichi who had stumbled into the bathroom.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed. You know I’m not a morning person.” Eyes half-closed against the unnatural fluorescent glare of the starkly tiled room, Sakura pawed through contents of the flimsy plastic bag that held the few toiletries Kakashi had purchased, and located her toothbrush and paste. She’d feel more human, she knew, once her mouth was clean.

“It seems like you’re back to normal, little she-bear.” The curtain closed as he went back to his ablutions.

Sakura paused in her tooth brushing, nearly choking on the minty froth that filled her mouth. She-bear? He wasn’t going to get away with that, Sakura fumed to herself. She quietly filled up a glass of water and threw its contents over the chrome-plated curtain rod and into the shower. A most un-Kakashi-like shriek of surprise was her reward.

“Didn’t see that one coming, Sharingan Kakashi?”

“Obviously not, Sakura.” He poked his head through the curtains again, and smiled devilishly. “Care to join me?”

“I think not, Kakashi. Tempting as it sounds, you’ll probably find some way to punish me.”

”True, but that will happen whether you join me or not. The longer you wait, the less pleasant it will be.”

”I’ll take my chances, I think.” Sakura quickly washed her face, then smirked as she noticed the small, gas-powered water heater bolted above the commode. She quickly exited the room, but not before flushing the toilet. A muffled scream was her second reward of the morning.

A fragrant, towel-wrapped Kakashi left the bathroom some thirty minutes later, accompanied by billows of steam that quickly fogged the hotel room’s windows. “All yours,” was his only comment as he passed Sakura, although he did swat her on the rear.

“I won’t be long. I assume we’re going somewhere?”

An unintelligible grunt served as affirmation, or perhaps negation of her question. Apparently the copy ninja was still a little ticked off.

“You’d think a hotel this sophisticated would have the shower and toilet on different supply lines.” She smiled apologetically at Kakashi’s back.

Another grunt was her signal to leave the room.

Sakura absentmindedly opened both taps full bore, stepped into the bath-cum-shower, and screamed. Kakashi had used up all the hot water. Well, so what? she told herself. She’d showered in worse circumstances on many, many occasions. It was clear, though, that mountain streams were the source of this hidden village’s water. Sakura’s teeth chattered as she quickly lathered up her body and washed her hair. A brisk shower would be good for her, she decided. Her work at the hospital had taken her far from the life she’d led as a genin and chunin. Yes, it was disciplined, focused work, but the fact was, compared to a life in the field it was downright cushy. She needed experiences like this to remind her just what a shinobi’s life was all about. This is a pretty lame punishment, Sakura smirked as she rinsed off under the frigid stream of water. She only wished she hadn’t cried out minutes earlier.

She turned off the taps and pulled back the curtains, reaching for a towel as she did so. Her fingers touched waterlogged terrycloth. Damn him. What had he done to the towels? There had been a tall, fluffy stack on the glass and chrome stand next to the tub—she’d run her hand over it just minutes earlier. But now they were all completely sodden, every last one. Even the thick cotton bath mat, which Kakashi had laid precisely over the bathtub’s lip, was completely soaked. Dripping.

Sakura wrung out her hair and marched into the bedroom, where Kakashi, amazingly, was brushing his own hair. She hadn’t thought he did that. He wasn’t looking in the mirror, however. Apparently that would have served to bring too much order out of chaos. Instead he leaned lazily against the dresser, smiling at the sight of Sakura’s completely naked form, his eyes following the rivulets of water that wandered slowly down her body.

“Give me that,” she snapped, reaching her arm out to yank the towel from around his waist.

“I think not, Sakura.” In a flash, his hand had encircled her wrist. He pulled her close and grazed her cheek with his own unshaven flesh as he whispered into her ear. “This is my towel, and I’m not quite done with it yet.” He smiled as he released her from his grasp. “You can air dry. It’s not that cold in here.” He shifted his gaze to her breasts and smirked. “Oh. I stand corrected.”

“You’re just going to stand there and watch me drip dry.”

"Ee. Actually, I might as well make myself comfortable.” He seated himself on the bed, which, Sakura noticed, was stripped bare—not even a mattress pad remained. She turned and walked to the closet, which she also found was barren. She quickly concluded that only four pieces of fabric remained in the room: the towel adorning Kakashi’s waist, the dark mask he held in his hand, the hitae-ate on the dresser and a rather inflexible-looking window covering.

“You really haven’t left me many options, have you?” She looked at her lover, who was wearing the expression of a satisfied cat, his eyes half-closed as he gloated. “Let me know when my clothes reappear.” She stalked out of the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

“You’ll miss breakfast.”

”Not. Hungry.” Not for a naked breakfast, anyway.

Sakura sat on the edge of the bathtub, after throwing the water-soaked bath mat aside. The freezing-cold porcelain brought out goosebumps, but there was no better alternative. The bathroom was built for cleanliness, not comfort—every centimeter was covered in gleaming white ceramic of one form or another. She’d tough it out, though. There was no way she was going to let Kakashi win.

She heard the bed creak as Kakashi flopped upon it. He’d probably whipped out his copy of Icha, Icha, his long-time, highly fidelic companion. She hadn’t noticed him reading it recently, though. Perhaps real-life was more interesting at the moment. But knowing Kakashi, he’d probably tried to find a way to marry the two. She made a mental note to borrow the book next time he was occupied. She was willing to bet the scene that had just played out had jumped from its pages. Sakura brushed her teeth again and ran her fingers through her still-wet hair, then frowned at the less than satisfactory results. Their only brush was in the room with Kakashi. Sakura sighed. There was absolutely nothing else she could think of to occupy her in this self-imposed prison.

No sound emanated from the bedroom—it was as though she were alone in the small suite. He wouldn’t have left, though. He knew her patience was limited—very limited, and probably guessed she’d come bursting out, yelling at him, any minute. Wrong, she told herself. She’d stay in here until she figured out her next move. This battle was not over yet, by any means. In the quiet, Sakura heard the distant chiming of the elevator, then the smallest clinking of dinnerware. Breakfast! Her stomach growled, despite her earlier denial of hunger. After scores of missions together, Kakashi surely must remember she was voracious in the morning. He’d probably find a way to taunt her with the meal.

She almost laughed aloud at the serendipitous possibility that presented herself, then took a deep breath as she readied herself to pay her lover back. This went against her nature, but truly, he deserved it. She timed her next move precisely and professionally, as perfectly as she’d ever done on a job.

“Kakashi-kun,” she called sweetly, as she opened the door to the bathroom and bounded into the room, “Do you have a razor? I thought I’d shave my legs.”

Three eyes looked up at her, and the same three eyes widened in shock. The cool grey eye of the copy ninja quickly readjusted itself into its usual look of jaded apathy, while the room’s two new eyes grew wider still as they took in the kunoichi’s exquisite, naked flesh. A jaw dropped then, and several utensils, as the busboy who’d delivered the large, western-style breakfast froze on the spot. A small line of deep red trickled from his nose.

Sakura suppressed a smile as she saw Kakashi’s jawline tighten perceptibly under his mask. She strolled over to the mattress and arranged herself on it, then reached across to the bureau to pick up the comb, and languidly untangled her short, thick tresses.

“I think you’re done here,” Kakashi growled at the busboy, whose head had turned to follow Sakura’s slow journey across the room and whose eyes now rested on her two, small, yet perfect forward assets. Kakashi’s voice was quiet, with just the slightest tone of menace to it. “And you’ve already had your tip.” He pushed the livery-clad young man toward the door.

“Wait!” Sakura called out from her perch on the stripped mattress. “Do you think you could bring me some towels and linens? Ours seemed to have disappeared.” She stifled a giggle and struggled to keep her composure.

The busboy was at a loss for words, but bobbed his head vigorously as Kakashi shoved him out of the room, and drove the door’s bolt home.

She rose from the bed to better assess the situation. The copy ninja’s voice was a barely audible drawl as he moved towards her.

“You, sweet cherry blossom, are a very naughty girl.” Mask and towel were quickly discarded as he pushed her forcefully against the rough fabric of the covered windows. “A very, very naughty girl.” His voice rasped in her ear as he plundered the soft flesh of her neck, his still-unshaven skin scraping against her skin. “How am I going to punish you?”

“You always said that a prime rule of our art is to surprise your adversary. I surprised you, didn’t I?” A slight tremor in her voice belied the anxiety that coursed through her body.

He ignored her. “Maybe I should lay you over my knee and warm your gorgeous bottom. You’ve never been spanked, have you? I’m sure you were terribly spoiled, being an only child and all.” He cupped her posterior with both hands, gently kneading her flesh.

“You wouldn’t.” She wriggled futilely in his grasp, then looked up to see him smiling amusedly.

“You’re right. I’d never hurt you, Sakura.” His eyes gleamed in arousal. “But I am going to punish you.”

“How?”

“Oh. You’ll see.”

”Right now?”

“You’ll see.” He led her to the unclothed bed and pushed her against it, laughing as she involuntarily bounced against the firm mattress. He joined her, taking full control of the situation, pushing her arms away as she reached to encircle him. “No, Sakura,” he said softly, “I’m in charge now. Lie back.”

”This is punishment?” A giggle escaped her lips as she settled herself against the pillows, closing her eyes to better focus on the sensations her lover produced in her.

”Did I say that?” was his only response. His lips quickly busied themselves in teasing her flesh, first bruising her lips with forceful, raw kisses, then tracing a path along the sensitive skin of her neck and collarbones.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Kakashi.”

“I think I do, Sakura.” His voice was rough with desire. “And that’s the problem. I don’t want anyone else to do this to you, Sakura.” His teeth grazed her shoulder, then gently pressed against her flesh. He ran his fingers along the subtle welt they left. “You’re mine, Sakura. All mine. Only mine.”

She squirmed against him. “You can’t possess someone, Kakashi. I’m not a tool or a… toy.”

“You know I’m right, Sakura.”

”You don’t own me, Kakashi!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine, Sakura. And I won’t share you. I don’t even want anyone looking at you. Not when you’re naked, anyway.” He turned her face toward his and looked into her eyes. “You understand, don’t you?”

Her viridian eyes sparkled in fury. “I’m not some inflatable doll you keep at the back of your closet!”

“You were looking in my closet?”

“Um… no, actually.” A blush crept to her cheeks. What else did she not know about this man?

“Just kidding, Sakura.”

“Oh.” She blushed still more deeply.

“It’s easy to embarrass you. You know, you completely surprised me walking out the way you did. I never thought you’d do something like that.”

”I know. That’s why I did it. And it worked, didn’t it?”

“So, are you an exhibitionist?” Kakashi trailed his lips across the upper curve of her breast, and smiled as he noted her blush move southward from her cheeks to cover her neck and chest.

“Would you like it if I were?”

He pretended to think for a moment, lifting his head to catch her eyes. “Immensely, Sakura.”

“Too bad. That was a one-time thing, Kakashi. I have no desire to show anyone but you my body.”

”Good.”

“Good? You just said you’d like it if I were.”

”Yes, but selfish desire wins out over idle titillation every time.” He flickered his tongue over her nipple and sucked gently on the flesh.

“You’re not going to bite me again, are you?”

“Should I?”

“If I say ‘no,’ you probably will. And if I say, ‘yes,’ you probably— “Her nervous chatter was cut short with a gasp of pleasure as he gently pulled on the nerve-laden tissue.

“I think you like it when I bite, Sakura,” he growled, as he moved his attention elsewhere. “Let me taste you, Sakura,” were his last words for quite some time, and Sakura readily complied with his request.

“Kakashi, that’s so…” The kunoichi spoke breathlessly as Kakashi brought her to the brink of climax. “Please. Make me--”

Kakashi lifted his head and spoke softly. “No, Sakura.” He moved up to kiss her, allowing her to taste herself upon him, and stroked her gently with his free hand, savoring the feel of her moistness against his fingertips.

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think?” His nimble fingers brought her close again, then pulled back.

“This is my punishment?”

He smiled gleefully.

“I hate you.” She clamped her legs shut, in an attempt to crush his hand.

”No, you don’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure you love me. You’ve said it a few times, anyway.” He spread her legs apart with his thigh and rubbed his maleness against her waiting flesh. “Do you like this, Sakura?”

She groaned in frustration. “Isn’t it obvious, Kakashi?”

He barely entered her, pulling back as he felt her incipient release.

“Why are you tormenting me?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Sakura?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Say it.”

“I love you?”

He chuckled. “No.” His face turned gentle for a moment. “I already know that.”

“Then what?” He was bringing her to the edge again, and she writhed under him, attempting to draw him closer to her.

“It will come to you, I think.” He smiled at the look of wildness on his lover’s face.

“Fuck me, Kakashi.”

”No, that’s not it.”

”Please. I need you.” Her voice held the slightest hint of a whine.

“No, that’s not it either.”

”Then what? What, Kakashi?”

“Say you belong to me.”

“Kakashi—“

“Say it, Sakura. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Kakashi.”

”Louder, Sakura.” He thrust into her, causing her to spasm with pleasure.

“I’m yours, Kakashi. I belong to you. Please, Kakashi!”

He slammed against her as she lifted her body toward his, wrapping her legs around him to draw him more deeply inside of her. She screamed in pleasure as he quickly brought her to climax, and moaned with desire when he stopped to let her catch her breath.

“More, Sakura?” he asked softly as her heart rate slowed.

“Kudasai.”

“Well?” A smile flickered across his lips.

“I’m yours, Kakashi. Always.”

“Good, Sakura.”

…o…o…o…o…o

“So, hungry?”

“Ravenous.” Sakura rose from the bed and approached the abandoned metal cart that held their meal. She lifted a chrome plated cover from a dish and turned up her nose. “Yuck. It’s congealed.” She held a slice of bacon up and nibbled on it tentatively. “Still tastes good, though.” She moved the plates of eggs, toast and bacon to the room’s small table, and picked up the odd implements that accompanied the meal. “These look like surgical tools, don’t you think? Where are the hashi?”

“This is a western-style breakfast. This hotel is known for its cuisine—I thought we’d be adventurous.”

“Hmm.” Sakura returned the plate’s metal covers to the cart, and noticed the small, leather portfolio that lay next to a carafe of orange juice. Embossed on its cover was a very familiar-looking kamon—a triangle containing a highly stylized dragon. She held up the folder. “Kakashi, do you recognize this? I know I’ve seen it before.”

The shinobi looked up from his breakfast, which he apparently found quite appealing, solidified fat and all. “It’s the crest of the daimyo that owns this place, Sankaku Eki. He owns about a third of snow, as well. It’s kind of strange for a feudal lord to own a piece of a hidden village, but his clan is exceptionally powerful. Didn’t you notice the logo when we walked into the hotel? It covers almost every surface. He’s not one for subtlety.”

That must have been where she’d seen it. Somehow, though, the kamon unsettled her. The dragon was not particularly menacing-looking—in fact, it was well-drawn and quite aesthetically pleasing. But something about it was unsavory.

“So, what are the plans for today? When are we going back to Fire?”

“I thought you might like to see the village. I’d like to see how well you hold up to some light walking before heading back.”

“Would you mind if we did a little shopping? I’m really tired of having only a single pair of underpants to wear, and I need a bra. Where are my clothes, anyway?”

“Under the bed. You really need to brush up on your skills, Sakura.”

Sakura retrieved her garments, affording Kakashi a very pleasant view of her posterior. “Do you know where my medical scrolls are? I probably shouldn’t leave them here, considering that they’re contraband.”

”Grab my clothes, will you? The scrolls are in my vest. Memorize them now. We’ll destroy them before we leave the room.”

Sakura quickly retrieved the jounin’s attired, then dressed and sat on the bed, unrolling a scroll as she did so. She read aloud softly, smiling at the many procedural details Snow’s head medic had written.

“Toss me one.” Sakura obliged, but frowned, puzzled, as Kakashi pulled up his hitae ate and scanned the scroll.

“Why are you memorizing it?”

“Fairly standard practice. I assume these are important—Junko wouldn’t have risked her career otherwise—so it makes sense for both of us to commit these to memory.”

“You’ve already memorized that one, haven’t you?”

“Mmm. You’re no slouch yourself, Sakura, and yours is a natural talent.”

“I can only memorize what I hear, and it takes me several passes. I’m done with this one, though.” She tossed it to her former sensei and got to work on a third scroll.

A small pile of ash was added to the remains of the breakfast, and the two Konoha ninjas walked down a thickly carpeted hall to the waiting elevator. The crest, Sakura saw, was indeed everywhere—woven into the carpet, carved into the mahogany walls of the elevator, and worked into the mosaic patterned floors of the hotel’s grand foyer. It must have cost Sankaku a small fortune to have such custom work done.

“We’re in the heart of the commercial district. There’s a department store not far from here, if memory serves.” They quickly found the building and were greeted immediately by a number of saleswoman and an overenthusiastic perfume sprayer, whom they successfully dodged. Sakura abandoned Kakashi, and made a beeline for the clothing section, but was disappointed in the selection that awaited her. The colors were drab, the necklines too high, and the fabric unforgiving. A bit of stretch was needed in a kunoichi’s outfit, and these garments failed miserably in that regard. What was the point in a dress that grazed the ankles, anyway? Maybe she was in the matron’s section. These clothes were completely unsuitable for someone her age. And where was the lingerie section of the store? Sakura looked around for a salesgirl, and saw instead Kakashi grinning (at least that was what his eye indicated) from across the sales floor. He was bundled, Sakura saw, with a small mountain of clothes, which he dumped atop a nearby table.

Sakura pawed through the proffered items and scoffed. “I am not wearing this.” The dress she held up would expose almost no skin, and was quite heavy as a result of the many folds of figure-obscuring fabric that fell from its shoulders.

”Why not? It solves your problem of having nothing else to wear, and my problem of people looking at you.”

“You’re joking, right?” His smile reassured her.

“You did notice that people dress a bit more conservatively here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but all I’ve seen are middle-aged women. I thought they were just acting their age. Where are the young girls, anyway?”

“Inside, I’d guess. They still do arranged marriages here, Sakura.”

”But the women work, don’t they? There were women in the hospital…”

”Did you notice that the only female medic was Junko? The rest were nurses.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t noticed that there were no male nurses. “Right. So how did Junko…?”

“Things were different when she was young. Snow embraced technology and everything else associated with modernity. Then something changed—there was a backlash led by the daimyos, and the culture reverted to what people remembered as the good old days. They kept the technology, though, as you can see. They’re still the world leader in that, and wealthier, per capita, than any other country.”

“Thanks for the lecture, sensei. Am I going to be arrested because my skirt is too short?”

“As far as I know, there’s no legal code concerning clothing. Yesterday, I noticed a few women dressed more…”

“Attractively?” The man had a wandering eye. Just great.

“Modernly.”

”So where do they shop?”

“How would I know?”

“Help me find a salesperson.” She grabbed Kakashi’s arm and began to wander the seemingly deserted clothing section of the store.

“How about this?” Kakashi pulled a brightly colored skirt from a nearby rack. “It’s short. It’s flirty. It just screams, ‘Sakura,’ don’t you think?”

“That’s a child’s skirt, Kakashi.” She looked at the tag. “This would fit a four year old.”

Kakashi rolled his visible eye. “Some of your clothing is at least that small, Sakura.”

“You’re not helping, Kakashi.”

”How about this?” He held up a pair of child’s bunny pajamas. “There’s this fantasy I have—“

“Go away. Don’t you have some errands to run, or something?”

“Well, actually, I do. Shall we meet in an hour?”

“Sure. How about in the park across the street?”

“Ee.” He disappeared in a flash of smoke, surprising the friendly-looking saleswoman approaching Sakura. The woman smiled conspiratorily as Sakura presented her with her problem. She pulled out a pad of paper and scribbled an address, then pressed it into Sakura’s palm.

Chapter 33: Public Displays—Ninth Date, part two

Kakashi strode through the streets of Yukigakure, looking for the shop he’d visited two days earlier. He’d been purposeful in selecting it, choosing an older mom-and-pop-style shop over the more modern, stylish stores that were in abundance in this part of the town. His reasoning for doing so was impeccable, as usual, and threefold: the newer stores were much more likely, in this technology-enamored state, to have video surveillance equipment; Snow was renowned for its ability at trade; and Kakashi had no desire to improve upon the shadowy image which currently appeared in enemy bingo books.

He walked into the store, smiling to himself as low-tech jingle bells attached to the front door announced his arrival. An elderly man parted the indigo-dyed noren separating the main room from what was apparently a work area and walked slowly toward the counter, loupe and polishing cloth in hand. He paused and squinted as he came within range of Kakashi, then smiled warmly as he recognized the ninja.

“Ah! Leaf Shinobi. It is good to see you again.” The proprietor leaned over to remove a small box from a locked drawer beneath the counter, and sighed as he creakily straightened up. “I think you will be very pleased. This is some of my best work.”

Kakashi opened the box presented to him and removed its contents, holding them up to the light that streamed in through the many paned windows. She would be thrilled, he was sure of it, as sure as he was that she would say, “Yes.”

“Where did you say you found those stones? I haven’t seen ones of such quality in years. They’re almost flawless.”

Like Sakura.

”Rock country.” Something about this man made him feel quite comfortable, and Kakashi found that for once, he wanted to talk. “I bought them a long time ago, and have kept them with me since-- they remind me of someone precious to me.” As he spoke, Kakashi worried the small hole he’d created in his vest in order to release the rare stones. It had felt strange to do so—the garment and its hidden treasure had rarely left his side in the eight years since he had sewn the stones into the padded lining of the vest. He’d therefore, some weeks ago, been beside himself when he’d awakened from his coma to find his clothes gone. Yes, his scrolls were important, irreplaceable, actually, but he was also well aware of the value of the beryls he kept on his person, and being a somewhat frugal person (that was a much nicer word than “cheap,” he thought), his heart had skipped a few beats until he’d located the vest which held the loose stones. Thankfully, his well-worn jounin vest had not been burned with the rest of his bloodied clothes.

”And now you’re giving one to her?” Kakashi glanced at the jeweler, distracted. “The person so precious to you? She must be a very special person, indeed. I went ahead and appraised them for you—no charge—it was a pleasure spending time with them. They’re each worth more than a diamond of that size and grade. Even as cabochons they refract the light beautifully— but you’d expect that, wouldn’t you?” Kakashi looked at him blankly. “They have almost no inclusions—so rare for this type of stone. Well, enough jeweler talk—I’m boring you, aren’t I? It’s just that I rarely see gems of such exceptional quality. Let me wrap this up for you.”

”No need.” Kakashi snapped the small box shut and pocketed it, sliding a fairly thick stack of notes across the counter as he did so.

“Come again, please.” Kakashi lifted his arm in a lazy good-bye gesture as he left the small shop and headed toward the open-air market. He’d seen the perfect container on the walk over—he was sure it would delight her. And of course, he couldn’t forget himself. He giggled as he thought of several items that would delight him.

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura examined the address scribbled on the sheet of paper she held and compared it to the address carved into the lintel of the very expensive-looking door in front of her. “3209 N.E. Tsuiki Drive.” But this location did not appear to be a store. There was no sign, and no window display, nor was there any other indication that retail transactions took place there. It was clear that this was the most fashionable, expensive part of town, from the width of the street, to the well-maintained plantings of winter-blooming bulbs adorning the curb. But this building looked as though it might house a lawyer’s office, or a doctor’s or that of any other successful business person. “Businessman,” Sakura corrected herself, remembering Kakashi’s description of the regressive social structure of Snow.

She raised her hand to rap on the thick, frosted glass pane of the door, an apology at the ready, then spied a small, discreet push button, just above an equally discreet brass plaque. She moved closer to read the tiny writing. “Noriko’s Secret,” it read. She pressed the doorbell and was immediately ushered inside the foyer of what looked to be an expensively-decorated residence-- a very pink, satin-upholstered residence.

“Welcome,” said the well-preserved, well-endowed woman who greeted her with an appraising smile as she waved her inside. “It’s not often we have foreign visitors such as yourself.” She touched her hand to her expertly coiffed platinum blond hair, then smoothed her well-cut, yet prim suit. Sakura self-consciously did the same to her own hair and clothes, suddenly realizing how travel-weary and sloppy she must look to this paragon of Snow country style.

“Excuse me, but how--?”

“My friend Kimi called ahead from the depaato and let me know you’d be stopping by. She said I should wait for a lovely pink-haired kunoichi, and here you are.” The woman smiled brightly as she waved to a brocade-upholstered chair, indicating that Sakura should sit. “May I get you some o-cha?”

“If you insist--yes. That really would be nice.” The saleswoman bustled away, leaving a trail of high-priced perfume in her wake. Sakura took the opportunity to glance around the room. This was certainly the least commercial store she’d ever visited—not a single product appeared to be on display. If she hadn’t been directed here for her stated purpose, she’d never have guessed that this place was a lingerie shop. It seemed more like someone’s home, and the home of an older, single woman, at that—there was absolutely nothing gender-neutral about her surroundings. Sakura stood and walked slowly around the room. Every single item—from the pair of small, matching settees placed perpendicular to the heavily carved mantle, to the fringe-trimmed lamps, to the rose-patterned, hand-hooked area rugs—was pink. Even the room’s illumination was a warm rose.

You would have loved this when you were twelve.

Yes, but I would have hated it by the time I turned thirteen. I feel like I’m standing in a jar of gari, or inside a giant stomach. Blech. It’s like a pack of psychotic cupids were set loose on the place. Hasn’t this woman been introduced to the idea of subtlety?

The saleswoman, who identified herself as the eponymous Noriko, returned with two western-style teacups, each balanced on a thin porcelain saucer. The tea service, at least, was cream-colored, not pink, Sakura noted, although the tiny, hand-painted fuchsias on each kept to the room’s general theme. Sakura sipped her tea as Noriko smiled, again gazing at her appraisingly.

“So, tell me. What exactly are you looking for?”

“Just some basic lingerie, I guess. My luggage didn’t arrive here with me, and I’ve been making do. I don’t need much—we’ll be leaving soon. Just a bra and panties, I guess.”

“I’ll need to take measurements, of course. I can usually tell which undergarments will be suitable just by looking at a woman. I’d guess you’re about a 70. I see you in palest pink, to match your hair, with lots of lace. It will play up your innocence, I think. And since you’re rather flat-chested, (no offense, sweetheart, but facts are facts, you know—you’re not even wearing a bra, for heaven’s sake), I think I’d like to try a push-up bra, with light padding, to embroider a bit on what nature gave you.”

Flat-chested? I'm not flat-chested! I'm petite! Sakura did her best to control her burgeoning temper.

”I’m pretty happy with what nature gave me, actually. And I prefer black.” Sakura abandoned any pretense of politeness, setting her tea aside, and looking the saleswoman squarely in the eye.

“Well, then.” The woman stood, looking a bit disappointed. “Let’s get started.” She led Sakura into a slightly more commercial-looking (though still pink) space, although the number of wares on display was a bit disappointing. Sakura guessed that more were hidden in the several armoires scattered around the room’s periphery. How strange, she thought. What type of store kept its goods hidden from view? Perhaps this had something to the unusual mores of Snow’s people.

Sakura was soon installed in a rather spacious dressing room, which, like the first room, resembled more a household room than a business space. It was like a small bedroom, minus the bed, with a cheval mirror, small table and overstuffed wing chair. It prompted a long-forgotten memory of a book Ino had loaned her years before. It had been Sakura’s first romance novel, read before she discovered her attraction to Sasuke, when her friendship with Ino had been strong and unsullied by competition over boys. How old was she then—eleven? Unlike the precocious Ino, she’d barely hit puberty. Sakura had laughed at the book and the main character’s complete absorption with the cold, brooding man of her dreams, and the eleven-year-old kunoichi-in-training had vowed never to become so silly over something as trivial as a man’s affection. Of course, she’d completely forgotten that vow only months later, when she’d fallen head over heels for Sasuke. Not only that: she’d changed completely into the very type of girl she’d despised, a girl who defined herself in terms of another. Sakura smiled wryly as the memory of the poorly-written novel came back to her. The main character had spent most of her time pining away in a boudoir which Sakura realized greatly resembled the room in which she now stood.

This explains a lot. This woman must be a romance junkie.

The saleswoman’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Why don’t you get undressed? I’ll be back with some suitable items.” Noriko began to exit the small room, then turned back with a smile upon her half-pursed lips. “Hmm. Is there a man in your life?” She laughed as Sakura’s body responded affirmatively with a blush. “Are you married? Engaged? Oh—not yet? You know, the right undergarments can do a lot to advance a relationship. Have you ever tried role-playing? It could tip the scales in your favor.”

Sakura blushed more deeply. “I thought-- I mean, I heard that Snow was fairly conservative—“

”Oh, we are, no doubt about it. We’d never allow men into a store like this, for instance. It just wouldn’t be appropriate. But in the privacy of one’s home, things are often different. There’s a saying in Snow that a woman should be a perfect saint in public and a perfect whore in private -- pardon my language, dear. Our men do like to be entertained, and we women don’t like them to stray.” She winked at Sakura, then pulled out a measuring tape, which, for a just a moment, appeared to Sakura to take the form of a whip.

Sakura was flummoxed, unable to respond to Noriko’s comments as she took her measurements. The woman had seemed so staid and proper when she’d answered the door, but now she seemed much more like… a madam. And the room in which she now stood suddenly bore a closer resemblance to a bordello than a middle-aged woman’s saccharine fantasy in pink.

She finally found her voice. “I’m really just looking for something simple. I’m pretty boring when it comes to clothing, really.”

Sakura demurred when the saleswoman returned, accepting the black, silken items presented to her, but insisting to the woman that indeed, dressing was something she would be able to accomplish herself. She felt the woman hovering outside the door, however, which thankfully had a lock.

“All of those have matching panties, darling. I’ll place them by the cash register in the main room, and you can pick out the ones that match what you’ve selected. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to try a push-up bra in pink? I’m sure you’d drive your honey crazy with just a little bit more effort. Or maybe some cream-colored Alençon lace? I have a bustier and garter belt that would fit you perfectly and set your skin off. He won’t be able to resist you—“

A muted doorbell rung, and the saleswoman hurried off, eliciting a sigh of relief and a whispered “thank you,” to the local deities of Konoha who surely were looking out for the frustrated kunoichi. Sakura checked the door once more, to ensure she’d be uninterrupted, and set to work.

The very first garment fit perfectly—apparently Noriko did know her trade—and Sakura quickly set it aside to be purchased. She really should buy several—it was hard to find simple, well-fitting underwear. Things in her size were usually overdone or completely girlish. Neither of those were her style. These garments, on the other hand, were elegant and classic—a reflection, she realized, of the many differences between the cosmpolitan Snow and the down-to-earth Fire. Sakura picked up another garment, sighing as she did so. It was a lace-embellished push-up bra, something utterly impractical for either field or hospital work. It was beautiful, though, and it did meet her criterion of being black. And it wasn’t insultingly padded, either. She might as well try it on. Sakura fastened the hooks and eyes behind her, then leaned from the waist to adjust the brassiere, fussing with the straps as she did so.

“You have the most beautiful ass, Sakura,” a soft voice growled behind her. “Absolutely perfect.”

Sakura jumped, nearly hitting her head on the tilted mirror that stood before her. “K-Kakashi? Where did you come from?” She turned to see the jounin leaning against the still-locked door with an animal look in his visible eye. “How on earth did you know where to find me?”

“I could smell you.” He said the words in a bored, matter-of-fact tone, as though locating ones lover through olfactory means was an everyday occurrence.

”You could…smell me?” Sakura was almost overtaken by a sudden, strong urge to sniff herself. Did she stink? The fact that he was able to track her by her smell was completely humiliating.

“I love your scent, Sakura. You smell like spring.” His wolfish smile was evident through his mask, and in the certain crinkle of his visible eye. “And a little bit like me, of course.”

His aside was not lost on her. Like an animal marking his territory, she thought. He can be absolutely infuriating. She let his comment slide, however, as she was curious to find out exactly how he’d found her. “But how did you know to come here? You can’t smell me from a kilometer away, can you? And this can’t be the only lingerie store in this village.”

“I wasn’t looking for you, actually.”

“Oh?” Sakura noticed he was holding several items in his hand, items similar, no doubt, to those worn by the nameless females scattered through the pages of Icha, Icha. “Noriko actually let you in? She said men aren’t allowed in stores like this.”

“Henge. She took a liking to me when I stopped by to pick up your nightgown the other day. My doppelganger will be keeping her busy for a while, I think.”

“I have to see this.” Sakura moved toward the door, eager to get a view of a female Kakashi.

He reached out his arm to stop her. “Don’t. I can show you later.” He smiled as a thought occurred to him. “In fact, that might be… pleasant. Sakura, didn’t you say Ino offered to show you how to kiss? Did you ever take her up on it?”

”Nani?” Her eyes widened.

“Never mind. Come a little closer, hana. I want to get a better look at you. Do you have any idea how incredible you look in black? The contrast with your skin is breathtaking. You almost glow.” He set the items he was holding onto the table, then moved toward the still-confused kunoichi. His lips touched hers lightly through the silken fabric of his mask, then moved quickly toward her prominently displayed breasts. He moved his mask aside and ran his tongue over the rich fabric of her garment, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from his lover, followed by an immediate stiffening of her back.

“Kakashi—I can’t purchase a bra that’s wet with your saliva.”

“Oh, you’re definitely buying it. You can just give her the tags to ring up and wear it out. Don’t be a spoilsport, Sakura.”

“I am not a spoilsport.” A note of petulance colored her voice.

“No? Well, then. Try these on. He grabbed a pair of marabou-trimmed mules from the items he’d placed on the table and handed them to his lover.

“Kakashi—these are—“ she attempted to span the height of the heels with her fingers, and failed. “These heels must be at least 18 cm high. I’d break my ankles if I tried to walk around in them.”

“Who said anything about walking?”

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “What would be the point of buying them, then? Oh. Hentai!” Nonetheless, she slipped on the black satin mules, and smiled in surprise upon discovering that they fit.

“Look at yourself.” He turned her so that she stood in profile before the mirror, and slowly scanned her reflection with a lazy, yet appreciative eye. “You really do have a gorgeous ass,” he murmured, approvingly noting the way the tall heels changed her posture somewhat, highlighting her posterior. He ran his hand down the small of her back, resting it on the smooth fabric of her panties. “It’s not perverted to appreciate how beautiful you are, Sakura.”

“You’re insatiable, Kakashi.”

”Only around you. By the way, why are these damp?”

“I had to wash them out in the sink this morning. It’s the reason we went shopping, remember?”

“Aa. Put these on, instead.” He removed a small black garment from small pile on the table and handed it to her, his eyes fixed on her face as she examined his offering. The glint in his eye belied his anticipation of her expected response. He was not disappointed.

“Kakashi? Why do these panties have… four openings?” She blushed as she examined the garment more closely. “You have got to be kidding. These are completely—“

Ridiculous.

“-- impractical.”

He did his best to suppress the smile that played at his lips. It was amusing to shred the last vestiges of her innocence-- her last expression had been priceless. ”On the contrary, Sakura, they’re very practical.”

Sakura flushed crimson at his words. “You really don’t expect me to wear these, do you?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Kakashi wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against the papered walls of the outsized dressing room, caressing her near-naked form with light, expert touches until he felt her pulse quicken and her breath grow shallow. Then, in a lightning quick series of movements, he grabbed a kunai, pulled her panties clear of her body and cut them into a reasonable facsimile of the rejected pair.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Sakura tried in vain to push the copy nin away.

“Well, you said you were tired of them. Plus, this way you can keep them on.” Kakashi returned the kunai to its pouch, and ran his lips along the curve of Sakura’s neck. “I want you, Sakura. Right now.”

She struggled to hold on to her indignation. His touch was distracting, inebriating. ”I didn’t say I was tired of them, Kakashi! I said that I was tired of wearing the same pair.”

He looked at her blankly, and shrugged one shoulder, apparently not discerning the difference between the two statements. “Fine. I’ll buy you new ones.” He ran his hands along the curve of her hips, breathing in her heady fragrance as he did so. “It would be my pleasure,” he said softly.

“You’re so generous.”

“I have lots of good qualities.”

“You could have cut me, Kakashi.”

”I think we both know that would never happen.” His fingers caressed her newly-exposed flesh, delighting in its satiny wetness. “I also think you enjoyed it, Sakura.” He moved his hand to his mouth and one by one, licked each finger clean.

“Hentai.” She nearly spat out the word. “You didn’t have to ruin them, Kakashi. If a quickie is what you’re after, I would have been more than happy to take them off.”

”Really?” Kakashi’s eye widened perceptibly. “How do you know about quickies, Sakura?”

She rolled her eyes. “Ino, who else? I’ve learned way more about her sex life than I ever wanted to.”

“Hmm. But you said you weren’t an exhibitionist. Noriko-san might hear.” He had thought she might need some persuading. Once again, she’d surprised him.

”You’ve corrupted me.” She pressed her lips against his, and allowed her tongue to find his.

He savored the feel of her, and her definite lack of reticence. She was a quick learner, as he’d known for years, and it seemed her competitive streak applied even here, to their sexual relationship. Despite her inexperience, he was certain she’d soon give him a run for the money, skill-wise. But there were still some things she didn’t understand. “You’re missing the point, though, Sakura. Part of the fun of a quickie is keeping your clothes on. Especially those clothes, Sakura.” The wolfish expression returned to his face as he disengaged from their embrace her to regard the contrast between her skin and undergarments.

“Oh.” She contemplated this for a moment. “So, you’re planning on remaining fully clothed, while I stand here wearing slashed up panties, a see-through bra, and shoes a prostitute might own?”

”I don’t think most prostitutes would be able to afford those shoes, Sakura.”

She looked at him for a moment, an appropriate retort on her lips. But she had no desire, she realized, to delve into his knowledge of prostitution (which was probably encyclopedic and quite possibly first-hand). She said, instead, “Strip.”

“Hmm?”

”I said, ‘Strip,’ Kakashi. Now do it.”

“But—“

It was amusing to put him on the defensive, Sakura found. ”I’m guessing another part of the fun of a quickie is the thrill of possibly getting caught. This will add to the pleasure, don’t you think? I’d think it would be completely humiliating to have someone walk in on you while you were buck naked and in the throes of passion. Which should make it all the more exciting.” She smiled. “Oh. And I’m certainly not going to take part in this if I’m the only one who’s undressed.”

Kakashi complied, as Sakura’s reasoning did make a lot of sense (damn her intelligence!), but a newfound passive-aggressive streak caused him to take an inordinate amount of time to carefully fold his clothes, setting them carefully on the table with the other items he’d intended to purchase. “Happy?” he said, finally, as he stood before her, wearing only his hitae-ate.

“Very. That was quite a show.”

“Good. I’m glad you liked it.” She almost didn’t hear his whispered response as his lips found her own, as he slowly and inexorably began to pleasure her. He pressed her against the striped, moiré covered walls of the almost-bedroom, instructing her sotto voce as he did so.

“Wrap your leg around my waist.” The black satin shoes, Sakura realized, were more than some idle fetish of the copy nin—they actually were functional. With several centimeters in added height, she came much closer to approaching Kakashi’s height, and physically, that made things much easier. Kakashi entered her easily, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from his beautiful kunoichi as he did so. He quickly grabbed her other leg, wrapping it around himself, then moved his hands to support Sakura at the waist and lower back. He gently lifted her again and again, smiling as he felt and saw how easily he brought her to the brink of exquisite release. She let out a soft, throaty cry of pleasure as he pressed her more closely against himself.

“Quiet, Sakura. You don’t want Noriko to hear, do you?”

“Wha?” Kakashi’s words cut through the fog of pleasure that surrounded Sakura, allowing her the briefest glimpse of propriety. She was lost again in a moment, however, as she sank back into the clouded bliss her lover instilled in her. “I’m pretty sure I don’t care, Kakashi.”

“Oh?” Kakashi smiled as a plan crystallized in his mind. Moments later, the door to the dressing room rattled, and a familiar voice was heard.

“Is everything okay in there? I really didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. Hello? Are you okay?”

Sakura’s eyes widened as she snapped back to reality. Kakashi, however, kept moving her against him in a languid, yet persistent rhythm.

“I—I’m fine. I’m almost…done.” The last word caught in her throat as she struggled against a strong spasm of pleasure. Sakura reddened as she heard Kakashi’s quiet chuckle in her ear.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“No, no, I’ll be done—“ she almost screamed in release. “—soon.”

A crash was heard some distance away, and Sakura sighed in relief as Noriko scurried off.

“What was that?”

“One of those lamps in the front room.” Kakashi smiled lopsidedly. “You can thank me later. On second thought, now would be a good time…”

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

”Broke the lamp? Uh-huh.”

”No.” Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “You sent her down here somehow.”

”Why would I do that, hana?”

“Because—because—it brings you pleasure to—“

”Everything about you brings me pleasure, Sakura.” He pressed her against the wall as his movements became more urgent. “You bring me such pleasure.”

Sakura felt a sudden influx of blue-white chakra as Kakashi overloaded her wiring and joined her in the extreme bliss she felt. She clutched him tightly, her cry of absolute pleasure muted by the pressure of his lips against her own.

“How is it, Kakashi,” she asked minutes later, “that every time we do this it gets better?”

“I don’t know, Sakura. But it’s certainly worth investigating further, don’t you think?”

“Un.” She watched lazily as her lover dressed himself, unwilling to follow his lead just yet.

“I’ll meet you in the park. I don’t think Noriko would appreciate it if we walked out of here together, do you?” He turned away and disappeared, leaving the smallest breeze in his wake.

Sakura dressed slowly, smiling to herself as she did so, then gathered the simple items she planned to purchase, as well as the small stack of items Kakashi had picked out. She set the feather-trimmed mules on top, and lifted the bundle before her. He might be a hentai, but he certainly knew what he was doing. She’d be happy to wear whatever props he picked out. And, she realized, she really did like the shoes.

Chapter 34: An Idle Afternoon —Tenth Date

“Osoi. What kept you?” Kakashi looked up from his luridly-clad novel as Sakura approached him.

“I can’t believe that you of all people are accusing me of being late. Your doppelganger is what kept me, Kakashi.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrow. “My doppelganger? I released the jutsu when I left.”

“You should have seen Noriko. She was livid about the lamp. She kept going on about how expensive it was, how she wouldn’t be able to find another one to match its mate, how inconsiderate it was of you to break it, blah, blah, blah. She couldn’t understand how you’d disappeared, either. She ran to her cash register and counted the till over and over until she was satisfied that you hadn’t ripped her off. I think she forgot I was there for a while.”

“Didn’t mean to cause a commotion.” He shut his book and slipped it into his shuriken pouch, turning to the kunoichi as he did so, and eyeing the oversize bag she carried. “Did you get everything you needed?” He managed not to smirk at the sight of black feathers peeping out of the bag.

“Yes. When will we be leaving Snow, Kakashi?”

“I’m still not sure you’re ready to travel. How about a walk through the park, or around town, so we can see how well you hold up?”

“Do you really think I won’t be able to manage a simple hike?”

“Sakura, you were at death’s door only days ago. And I promised Junko I would make sure you were in good health before we left. Surely you’re not suggesting I go against a medic’s orders?”

Sakura glowered as she shook her head slowly, then flopped down next to him on a painted wooden bench that faced the park’s snow covered lawn. Three kids were playing not far from them, she noted, in an improvised three-way snow battle. They couldn’t be more than ten or eleven years old, but displayed the easy grace of friends who have known each other for years. All three were underdressed for the weather, Sakura thought, but perhaps in Snow the current weather qualified as spring. Patches of green were showing on the lawn, after all, as rugged blades of grass poked their way up through the snowy blanket covering them. The girl had recently gone through a growth spurt, Sakura surmised, noting the poor fit of the clothes on her elongated, skinny frame. She was almost a head taller than her two companions, and seemed to dominate them, rubbing snow into the collar of one friend’s jacket, and tackling the other. This didn’t discourage the first, who ran circles around her like a hyperactive toy dog, while the second merely ignored them both.

“So innocent.” Sakura sighed as she turned to the copy ninja, whom, she noted, had an unusual look in his eye.

“Hardly, Sakura. They’re shinobi—genin, by the looks of them. The training fields aren’t far from here. They were wearing their hitae-ate when they arrived.” He looked out across the lawn, and Sakura’s eyes followed his. Sure enough, she saw, they’d abandoned their snow fighting and now were practicing their jutsu on each other.

“They allow the girls to train with the boys? I wouldn’t have thought so, considering what you told me earlier.”

“They’re taught together until they become teenagers. Then they’re segregated.” He observed the gamine, who was easily more skilled than her male counterparts. In two swift moves she’d disarmed her closest companion, and pinned the other to a tree. “Once they do so, the girls are trained as kunoichi—old style kunoichi, that is. That girl’s obvious talents won’t be put to use. And to make it worse, being a kunoichi is seen as less than honorable here.” There was that look again. Was it wistfulness?

Sakura said nothing. She’d learned over many years that Kakashi did not respond well to probing questions, particularly about his emotions. True, he’d been very open to her recently, but nonetheless she felt uncomfortable pressing him on such matters. If he wanted to tell her what was on his mind, she decided, he would do so, eventually. She sat peaceably next to him, feeling his stillness wash over her. It was tinged with the slightest trace of sadness, she realized.

“It’s funny how easy it is to underestimate someone,” he said finally.

Sakura looked at him questioningly, but still said nothing.

“In this case, an entire sex. It’s easier to pigeon-hole people than to take the time to find out their individual strengths and weaknesses.”

“Those of us who are underestimated need to be more like Naruto, I think.” She grasped his hand with her own, and rubbed the knit fabric of his gloves against his skin in a soothing rhythm.

“She reminds me of you.”

“I guessed that.” Sakura gazed critically at the younger kunoichi, comparing the genin to her mind’s image of her own former self. This girl was much prettier than she, with shining, dark hair and emotive ebony eyes. She was as beautiful as Ino, really. Or Sasuke. Sakura nearly giggled aloud at the thought of the preening peacock on whom she’d wasted countless hours of her teenage years. He really was about as pretty as the young kunoichi scrimmaging on the lawn. In Sakura’s mind, the only thing her younger self had in common with this girl was domineering behavior (which was definitely not of the classical kunoichi mold), a diminutive frame and coltish, gangly legs. Sakura remembered hating her skinniness and concomitant angularity at that age. She’d felt so clumsy and ugly compared to others. This girl obviously did not seem to feel the same way. She was at home in her skin—she was flirtatious in a pre-teen, wholesome way, and she appeared to have none of the self-doubt that had plagued Sakura for much of her life. How was it that Kakashi saw a similarity between them?

Sakura turned to try to better read her lover’s face, and was surprised by the force of his embrace. It was crushing, powerful, and completely unexpected in such a public venue. He’d even pulled down his mask, she realized, which surprised her, given the need he’d expressed to keep the details of his features out of the bingo books. Thankfully, the slight wind moved her chin length hair into a curtain that partially obscured any view a passerby might have of his face.

“I love you, Sakura.”

“And I love you, Kakashi.”

He replaced his mask, then fumbled within his pants pocket and withdrew a small box. “I bought this for you earlier.”

She accepted the small container and gasped as she realized what is was.

“Himitsu bako da yo! How did you…” Sakura’s eyes welled with tears.

“I saw it in the market and recalled that you had a collection. Did you get rid of them? I don’t remember seeing them in your apartment.”

“No, I packed them away when I moved. I couldn’t look at them—the memories of my parents were still too strong.” She smiled as she brushed away her tears. “Each New Year’s my mom made me a temari and asked me to find its formula, and my father gave me one of these boxes. Each year the ball was more complex and the puzzle was a bit harder, but I was always able to figure out the ball’s pattern and open the box, even if I had to stay up all night. How many steps does this one have?”

Kakashi laughed as he regarded the small, inlaid puzzle box. “I don’t think I’m going to tell you that, hana.”

Sakura held the box to her ear and shook it gently. “Nothing inside, is there?”

He shrugged. ”Again, I don’t think I’m going to tell you that.”

She ran her fingers along the box, searching for signs of the first kannuki. The pieces were fitted together seamlessly, however, and not even hairline cracks showed when Sakura held the box so that the cold, bright sunlight fully illuminated it. There was no evidence of sliding panels anywhere on the box.

”It doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out by sundown. It can’t be any more difficult than the last one my father gave me. That one had forty-five steps.” Sakura turned the small box in her hands and marveled at its craftsmanship. “Did the vendor tell you what type of wood it’s made of?”

“Ebony, Ash, Katsura and Hoo.”

The sides of the box were covered with red and cream yosegi in a repeating asa pattern, while the top of the box had fine muku inlay. The foreground was bisected diagonally by a flower-laden sakura branch, while in the background was a beach scene, showing tiny birds running in and out of the surf. Sandpipers? She looked more closely. Chidori, of course. Sakura smiled at the symbolism of the gift. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“I’m glad you like it, Sakura.” Kakashi rubbed his hand across the crown of Sakura’s head in a gesture he hadn’t made for years, then stood and stretched lazily, smiling at her pique at having her hair mussed. “Ready for that walk?”

They walked slowly, arm in arm down the park’s central path, then took a side path into a more secluded area.

“I thought it might be a good idea to review the content of the scrolls Junko gave you. No one’s here-- I already checked.”

“Why bother if you memorized them with your Sharingan?”

“Humor me.”

Sakura sighed as she began to recite the text of the first scroll. The words rolled automatically off her tongue in a near monotonous tone. Her eyes widened, though, as her memory lapsed. “This has never happened before. I’ve always been able to remember perfectly.”

Kakashi looked at the kunoichi with concern. “Do you think this could be a lingering effect of your illness?”

“I… I guess so.” She closed her eyes as she tried to recall the missing content, and opened them a moment later in frustration. “It’s gone. I’m glad you memorized them, Kakashi. What a waste it would be otherwise.” She kicked the ground in irritation with herself, scuffing her boot in the process.

“Have you forgotten anything else?”

“It’s hard to know that, isn’t it? How can I know what I’ve forgotten?”

“Good point.” Kakashi scratched the back of his head as he thought. He’d expect her memories to be spotty for the time during her fever, so it probably wasn’t worth asking about that time. But had her long-term memory been impacted? “Do you remember the ryokan?”

“The inn where we stayed? A little. I don’t remember its name. It had quite a few lamps outside, didn’t it?”

“What was our room like?”

Sakura was nonplussed. “Our room? We shared a room? Oh, wait a minute, no we didn’t.” She restrained herself from punching the fork-tongued copy ninja. “I had my own room—we shared a suite. It was sukiya style, wasn’t it?”

”You tell me.”

“Hmm. I remember tatami, so it must have been. And there was a kind old lady who dressed me in your mother’s kimono, and I remember sitting under a beautiful sakura with you… that’s about it.”

“What about the barbecue place?”

”Where the little girl threw up on me and I got angry at you? Clear as a bell. Well, almost. The girl’s face is a little fuzzy.”

“Will you do that for me again?”

”What?”

“Wear a wet t-shirt. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands off you.”

“You’re a pig.” Sakura shook her head as she considered Kakashi’s lascivious nature. “Let’s walk. I want to prove to you that I’m ready to leave this place.”

…o…o…o…o…

Kakashi inspected the array of hand weapons he had carefully laid upon the room’s small table. He picked up a kunai, and ran it lightly upon the pad of his thumb, noting with a frown that even with more than gentle pressure, it did not draw blood. He opened his kunai pouch and retrieved a small bundle, unwrapping three small whetstones of varying roughness. He picked up the largest stone, the areto, and carefully began to rub it at a precise angle along the edge of the carbon steel blade. It was satisfying work, he’d always thought. Some might think it monotonous, but actually it was a meditative act, in which one could focus solely upon the task at hand. He held the blade up to the light, and satisfied with his work, switched to the second, finer stone.

“I guess I have my answer.” Kakashi hadn’t realized Sakura had crept up behind him, intent as he was on honing the blades. She’d been sitting on the bed, last he noticed, examining the puzzle box and swearing softly at it every now and then. When was the last time anyone had been able to creep up behind him, he wondered. Then again, when was the last time he’d allowed himself to get this close to anyone? Twenty years, at least. Kakashi realized with a smile that it was becoming second nature to let down his guard around her. He felt almost as though she were an extension of himself.

“To what?” He leaned his head back against Sakura’s warm frame, delighting in the soft resistance of her breasts.

“You wouldn’t be sharpening your kunai unless we were leaving. Where are mine, by the way?”

“I didn’t think to pack them—I wasn’t in the clearest state of mind when we set off for Snow.”

“You thought to dress me in these.” Sakura kicked her leg into Kakashi’s view to point out the knee-high boots she was wearing.

“Well, I always did like boots, Sakura.”

“You are such an incredible hentai, Kakashi. You have a foot fetish, too?”

“Sakura, I chose the boots because it’s cold in Snow, and your only other shoes were your sandals. Plain and simple. You really have no sense of humor, do you?”

Sakura unzipped her footwear and kicked it aside. There was nothing more unpleasant than feet made hot, sticky, and pungently aromatic by hours trapped inside boots. “I need to shower. Someone told me today that I smell. Would you order dinner?”

“Only if you promise not to come out naked when the bellhop arrives.”

”Deal.” She turned to enter the bathroom, only to be interrupted by Kakashi.

“You know, it’s only three hours until sundown. Do you think you’ll have the puzzle box opened by then?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Hatake-san, and wipe that smirk off your face.” She turned on her heel and closed the bathroom door firmly behind her.

“I stopped underestimating you quite a long time ago, Sakura,” Kakashi said softly. He picked up the phone to order an elaborate dinner, then returned to his sharpening. He used the finest whetstone, the shirato, to hone the kunai’s blade to a razor-sharp edge, while listening to the sounds of the shower. Was she singing? He had to witness this.

He quietly entered the bathroom, unheard by Sakura, whose mezzo-soprano voice was quite a bit more mellow and sultry than her usual speaking voice. Her voice was slightly off key at times, he noted, but not unpleasantly so. He stripped down as she continued to sing, then quietly filled a glass with ice cold water and pitched its contents into the shower.

What a beautiful shriek she had—he’d never noticed how melodic it was. And those eyes—they really were a match for the stones he’d tucked inside the himitsu bako, especially when they flashed with anger. He smiled to himself as his eyes met hers and stood up to their baleful glare. She really had no chance of solving its puzzle tonight—it was far too complex. There were at least 1000 permutations possible, once the first kannuki was slid, and Sakura hadn’t even found the first sliding key. Apart from that, he planned on keeping her busy.

“I thought we were even, Kakashi.”

“We are-- that was just for fun. You really need to be on your guard, Sakura. I could have been an enemy nin.”

“If you were an enemy nin, that would mean my lover was lying wounded or dead in the bedroom. That doesn’t seem likely, Kakashi.”

She trusts you completely.

”Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He looked so playful and innocent, with his hands tucked behind his back and a lopsided smile gracing his face. It was hard to reconcile the man standing before her with the elite assassin he’d proven himself to be.

“You’re not one to take no for an answer, so go ahead.” Sakura parted the curtains for him, and stepped aside to allow him access to the shower stream. To her surprise, Kakashi immediately knelt down.

“What are you doing?”

“Give me your leg.” He patted his thigh as he looked at Sakura expectantly.

“My leg. Why?”

“You said you needed a shave, Sakura.”

“And you’re going to shave me? With what?” Kakashi removed his hand from behind his back and held out the recently honed kunai.

”Trust me. I’m an expert at this.”

Sakura's voice was dry. ”Kakashi, what evidence do you have to support that assertion? You wear a mask. You could slash open your face every day, for all I know.”

“Please?”

She relented, and he smiled victoriously as he grabbed the soap and lathered up her leg. It felt nice to feel his attention in this way, Sakura realized. He was meticulous in his actions, running the blade only once over each area of skin, moving with care over the hills and valleys of her ankle and knee, and carefully avoiding nicking her with the tip of the blade. The simple act was luxuriant, she discovered, and completely sensual. She felt the blade caress the tender flesh of her inner thigh and sighed. How was he able to arouse her by performing such a commonplace task?

Kakashi set her leg down, and beckoned for her to replace it with its mate. She obliged, smiling as she noticed the small rivulets of water coursing down the tangles of hair that half-hid his face. He was oblivious to them, it seemed, focused fully on the task at hand. She allowed herself to feel it just as fully. All too soon it was over, though, and Sakura looked down with the slightest bit of disappointment, to see Kakashi looking up at her with another unreadable expression on his face.

“May I see that kunai for just a second?” Kakashi handed the weapon/shaving implement to her and she quickly ran it across her underarms, which were embarrassingly forested. She nicked herself several times, but that was okay. There was no way she was going to allow the copy ninja to take on this particular job. She glanced down to see her lover still looking up at her, with the slightest hint of a smile.

"May I have that back?" She returned the kunai to its rightful owner, noticing the glint in his mismatched eyes. “Sakura,” he asked, raising his hand to the intersection of her thighs and playing with the short pink curls adorning it. "Do you think--"

"You want to shave me there? With a kunai?" She looked at him in disbelief. "Why?"

“Well, it would make certain activities a bit easier.”

“Oh. All…over?” He nodded. “Do you have any idea how irritating it will be when it starts to grow back in?”

”Sakura. You’re a medic—the best in Fire. Surely you could come up with something to address that problem.”

“I never thought of that." Her eyes sparkled to match his own. “Fine. But that means I get to shave you.”

”You want to—“ Kakashi looked at her in surprise-- not that he wouldn’t let her do it. He just hadn’t expected that she’d ask.

”Your face, silly. I don’t trust myself enough to use a kunai on your…um…nether regions.” Sakura blushed furiously at both the thought of doing so, and at the ridiculously euphemistic term she’d used.

I sound like my mother. Ewww. Strike that.

“Oh. Sure. That seems fair.” Kakashi did his best to sound nonchalant. There would be time enough in the future to divest her of that particular facet of her innocence.

Kakashi was a man of strange sexual appetites, Sakura decided as her hair was further shorn. Not that she thought shaving such a place was strange—she’d often depilated her bikini line, and Ino had convinced her once (only once) to try waxing—she’d just always considered it a rather private act of personal hygiene. That Kakashi was eager to take on this duty seemed just a bit weird. But certainly it was harmless, she told herself as she watched small pink clumps eddy in the water accumulating in the tub’s drain. All of the quirks he’d demonstrated so far had been harmless, and as he had years of reading Icha, Icha behind him, Sakura was sure that there were many more quirks to come. She really needed to read up, she decided, to have a better idea of what was in store.

And now what was he doing? The man was absolutely sex-obsessed.

“Kakashi, it’s slippery in here. Don’t you think it would be better if we—oh!”

“I want you, Sakura. Make love to me.”

“But I want to shave your face. You promised.”

Kakashi sighed. “Fine. But I’m too tall compared to you for it to work in here, and I’m tired of kneeling.” He turned and shut off the taps, then grabbed an oversized towel. “At least let me dry you off. Then you can have your way with me.” He ran the towel through his hair, then quickly adjusted it around his waist and stepped out of the tub. He turned to the dripping wet kunoichi and beckoned. “Come on out.” He gathered her into a second towel and gently began to rub her dry, lavishing her with all the attention he had bestowed on her legs.

How does he make something so mundane feel so good?

Sakura sighed as she felt her body responding to the copy ninja. His tongue lightly touched each place he dried, making his first efforts useless, but Sakura found that she didn’t mind. He was more than she ever imagined a lover could be, treating her as though she were the only person in existence, as if she were everything to him.

“Sakura. Would you really rather shave me?”

”Mmm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Kakashi scooped her up and easily carried her to the bed, allowing both of their towels to drop to the floor as he did so.

“I don’t understand how you do this to me.” His voice was muffled as he deposited her on the bed, then climbed in to join her, all the while kissing her lips, her throat, the nape of her neck.

“I love you, Kakashi.”

”Show me.”

“How?”

“Surprise me.”

She mounted him, easily taking him inside of her, but sighing with pleasure at the sensations she felt as she did so. She noted with delight the expression of sheer bliss on her lover’s face as he nodded his approval.

“Gently at first, Sakura. Take it slow.”

“I think I know what I’m doing, Kakashi.”

”Do you, now? Well, I’ll just be quiet then, and let the master student display her skills. Such a fast learner, my little Sakura.”

“I’m observant, Kakashi. Even without the Sharingan, I think I know what you like.” She moved slowly against him, grinding her pelvis against his. She laughed aloud at the strangled groan this elicited. “See?”

“Do that again, Sakura. And again. Don’t stop loving me.”

”Kakashi. You know I never will, right?” She leaned in to gaze into his eyes, and saw the slightest hint of worry, which she rushed to dispel. “Kakashi, how could I ever stop loving you?” She stopped moving against him, and looked at him with concern.

“Sometimes I think I’m not meant for love. That this—that “us” is happening seems like a dream.”

“But it’s not a dream, Kakashi. And nothing is going to change that, you know. I don’t think I could stop loving you, even if I wanted to. I wish—“

He looked at her, eyes intent.

“I wish I’d fallen in love with you a long time ago, Kakashi-kun.”

“I know. I wish that, too.” His eyes closed, and Sakura saw tranquility creep across his features. “Make love to me, Sakura.”

“As you wish, Kakashi.” She moved slowly at first, teasing him, allowing the soft, wet warmth of her body to caress him fully as she lowered herself onto him, then slowly raised herself up. She felt his hands on her hips, seeking to guide her rhythm. With a smile, she brushed them away, and increased her movements slightly. She heard him groan, and she smiled again in satisfaction.

“Tell me what you want, Kakashi.”

”I want this to never end.”

“This? Or us?”

”Both.”

”Touch me, Kakashi.”

His hands caressed her with practiced skill and within moments she felt herself at the edge of abandon.

“Kakashi, I—“

“Let go, Sakura. Let me see you let go.”

“I—“ She thrashed against him, moving more rapidly now, drawing closer and closer to temporary oblivion. She didn’t hear the knock on the door, though Kakashi did.

“Room service.”

He ignored it. Surely the bellhop would go away if no one answered.

The rapping increased in intensity.

“Excuse me? Is someone there? Your dinner is here.”

Sakura was panting now, moaning in ecstasy, and Kakashi felt himself drawing close to climax. Surely the bellhop could hear them. Even their movement in the bed was noisy as Sakura rode him relentlessly. Couldn’t the bellhop take a hint and come back later?

The rapping sounded again, and Kakashi saw the doorknob jiggle. Thankfully the door was locked, though he hadn’t thought to slide the deadbolt into place. He heard the jangle of keys and made a lightning fast decision, reluctantly removing his hands from Sakura to make the necessary seals.

“Shit! What the hell?!” The doorknob on the bedroom side of the door glowed red hot. Its heat had traveled quickly, as brass is a fairly good conductor of both heat and electricity. Kakashi heard the sound of smashing glassware as what he assumed was their dinner crashed to the ground, followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps.

He returned his gaze to Sakura in time to see her lose control. She was beautiful, in every way he’d ever imagined a woman to be. Her skin glistened with perspiration from her efforts, like dew on grass at the start of a hot summer day. The warmth that tinged her fair skin testified to her diligence, as well as to her arousal. Kakashi marveled at the curve her neck made as she threw her head back and moaned gutturally. He couldn’t have asked for more in a woman, he realized, although he’d never dared to ask for anything at all. He lost himself in her and climaxed explosively, crying out her name as he did so.

“Kakashi?” He opened his eyes to see Sakura lying next to him contentedly, stroking the scar that bisected his eyelid and upper cheek. “Why is the doorframe... charred?”

He scratched the back of his head as he sat up in their bed. “Um… I’ll tell you later. Oh, and about dinner? It looks like we’ll be eating out tonight.”

Chapter 35: Feet to Fire—Eleventh Date, part one

“Put me down.” Sakura had grown tired of being carried piggyback by Kakashi as he moved through the heavily forested terrain of northernmost Fire. She pummeled his back in an effort to cause him at least a small amount of discomfort. “Put me down, Kakashi!”

“Fine.” Kakashi abruptly released the kunoichi who dropped in a most graceless fashion squarely onto her rump.

“That is not what I meant!”

“But it’s what you deserve, hana.” He walked onward without a backward glance, causing Sakura’s eyes to widen with indignation. She searched the ground for something to throw, and, locating a rock of adequate size, lobbed it at the copy ninja. Without turning around, Kakashi sidestepped the incoming missile, catching it blindly in his outstretched hand. He swiveled around and looked at Sakura amusedly.

“This is what I get for carrying you 20 kilometers? A kiss would be more appropriate, I think.”

Sakura stood, ineffectively brushing a murky mixture of half-melted snow and mud from her skirt and legs. “I didn’t ask you to carry me. I would have been perfectly fine walking.”

“Sakura, you were clearly exhausted. And you’re obviously still grumpy.” She’d fallen several times, and had displayed beyond a doubt that she was not completely recovered. However, they’d traveled too far by then for it to make sense to turn around and head back to Snow. Carrying Sakura the rest of the way had seemed the most reasonable solution. Kakashi almost regretted it, despite his fainéant, patient nature. Sakura was in some mood today.

“And you’re condescending, Kakashi. Why do we have to travel at this pace? Couldn’t we just slow down?”

Kakashi sighed as he gathered the reserves of his patience. “We’re moving quickly for the same reason we always move quickly. You never know when or where an enemy might be lurking. Best to get to our destination without delay.”

Sakura couldn’t argue with that, and really, she shouldn’t be arguing at all. Kakashi was right. She was grumpy. She had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, and Kakashi’s announcement that they would be leaving at 6 a.m. on the dot hadn’t helped things. He’d said this on waking her, at 5:45. Normally it took her a good two hours to get going in the morning. The first hour she’d spend alone, and the second might be spent with others, although in silence. Her colleagues (and even her patients, a few days after admittance) were well aware of this, and did their best to communicate with her as little as possible until she’d gotten her bearings each morning.

This morning she’d trudged into the suite’s bathroom, glaring fluorescent light blinding her (how could a hotel this expensive not invest in softer lighting?), and had quickly stripped to shower, as showering was one thing that helped to get her moving, even if the time spent under the water was frustratingly short. The bathroom hadn’t even had enough time to steam over by the time she stepped out in search of a towel. Of course, they were missing, and this time with good reason. She and Kakashi had spent a fair amount of time in the bathroom over the past day. The towels that lay crumpled on the floor were too soaked to be useful, but Kakashi had a likely candidate draped over his shoulders when he’d woken her up. She’d just have to retrieve it from him. She paused in profile before the bathroom door to take a critical look at herself before exiting the room. Her behind was too big, she thought, but Kakashi had said nice things about it, so she guessed its size really didn’t matter. Her breasts were too small, she knew. Coupled with her current shaven state, she looked like a twelve-year old on the cusp of pubescence. How was it possible that Kakashi found her attractive? She growled at her reflection. If only she had the figure of Ino or Hinata. They weren’t overwhelmingly endowed, like Tsunade, but Sakura was sure that men were immediately aware of her two friends whenever they entered a room. She had witnessed it, actually, on many occasions. If Sakura walked into a bar with either or both kunoichi, all heads turned in their direction. The same did not happen when Sakura entered alone. Well, maybe one or two heads, but not the entire bar in unison.

Sakura had left the bathroom in a mood more dour than when she’d entered, her expression eliciting a sonorous laugh from the copy-ninja, who was busy inspecting their belongings before placing them into a new backpack. He’d claimed he could see the black cloud roiling over her head. That certainly hadn’t helped her mood, although she’d tried to shake it off. She hadn’t complained when he’d given her only five minutes to dry her hair (a task that would normally take 30 minutes, minimum), and she’d put up with the glares and odd looks the hotel staff had given them on checkout, after being informed about the state of the door to their suite. What’s more, she’d been quite content to breakfast on the run on onigiri Kakashi had somehow acquired from the hotel’s kitchen. She’d broken her bad mood, she thought, until she stumbled on the trail. They’d been running for a while—she reckoned they’d gone about 30 km, and Kakashi, true to form, had pushed them onward with no more than two five minute breaks in the hour and a half they’d been running. That slave driver hadn’t so much as broken a sweat. In contrast, she was drenched and panting for breath. It was no wonder she’d hit the ground and fallen right back into her earlier foul mood. She hated not measuring up, hated the ample evidence of this that had always surrounded her. Kakashi wouldn’t stumble if he were blindfolded and suffering from the flu. Showing physical weakness was not something he did. This irked her to no end, she realized, although it certainly wasn’t his fault.

And Kakashi was right to be concerned about her health, the medic inside told her. Sakura knew she was exhausted, as well she should be after the illness she’d endured and subsequent lack of exercise. She always got this way when pushed to her limit. She’d be close to tears hours before a coming down with a cold, and she’d be extremely irritable, to boot. The same was true when at the brink of exhaustion, but she was loath to admit this. It was a lot easier to bicker, bitch, and take out her immediate unhappiness on the nearest suitable candidate. But Kakashi didn’t deserve it.

“Kakashi?”

”Yes, my little she-bear?”

“Forget it.” She turned away, livid. And she’d been about to apologize.

“Sakura?” His strong hand rested on her shoulder as he moved closer to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing you’d understand.” How could he? He was never anything less than perfect.

“Is this some type of f—“ His mouth clamped shut, and his eye acquired the furtive look of someone who is almost positive he’s said too much.

“Some type of what?” He did not immediately answer. “Say it, Kakashi.” If you dare.

He was actually blushing, she noticed, as he struggled to find words that would not offend. “Er, you don’t normally seem this… irritable. I was just wondering if maybe it was… your time of the month?”

”What?!” Her voice echoed through the trees, dislodging a small flock of crows which noisily voiced their disapproval. “Why is it that any time a woman is feeling less than wonderful, men assume it’s “female problems”? It’s not my “time of the month,” Kakashi. The birth control Tsunade has us take does away with monthly periods. So that lame excuse you men use to avoid responsibility for your callous comments is gone. And good riddance. Do you have any idea how denigrating it is to have a huge slice of your personality assigned by others to your uterus?”

Kakashi’s voice was calm as he walked to a large fir and sat down in the tangled nest made by its partially exposed roots. “Well, no, Sakura, I don’t, but then again, I don’t have a uterus. Please, Sakura, sit down. We need to talk.”

“Now we’re going to take a break? What happened to getting to our destination as quickly as possible?”

“Any ninja within a 5 km radius has been alerted to our presence, Sakura. Come to think of it, they may have even heard you in Konoha. We could make a run for it, but that really wouldn’t be possible, as you’ve refused to let me carry you. Or we can wait here, and take them on, should any enemies appear.” He pulled out his canteen, and took a long swig of water. “Let me know when you want to talk.” With a quick movement, he unsnapped his kunai pouch and pulled out his trusty, orange-clad friend. Books, at least, didn’t wake up in completely irrational, over-the-top moods.

“May I see that for a minute?” Sakura sat down next to him, and reached her hand out toward the volume.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d probably tear off the binding and rip it to shreds, Sakura.”

“No. I’m ready to talk.” She leaned back against the tree’s shaggy, reticulated bark and sighed.

Kakashi replaced the book in his pouch and turned to Sakura. “Will you tell me what I’ve done to make you so angry at me? Because this is more than run-of-the-mill, early morning grumpiness, isn’t it? And whatever I’ve done, I’d like to fix it.”

“I’m not angry at you, Kakashi.”

”That’s not what it seems like.” He tentatively moved his hand toward hers and was relieved when she did not swat it away. Rather, she clasped it in her own and sighed again.

“I’m angry at myself for being inferior to you.”

“Inferior? You’re joking, right?” One look at Sakura’s face told him otherwise. She was furious again, but also close to tears. She bumped her head repeatedly against the tree behind her as she struggled to control her emotions. When she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper.

“I don’t understand what you see in me. Why would someone like you even tolerate me, let alone be in love with me? It doesn’t make sense. I see pretty clearly just who I am and what I am, and I see even more clearly who and what you are. And the two don’t match, Kakashi. There’s no comparison.” She was crying now, and even angrier with herself for demonstrating so clearly the inferiority of which she spoke.

Kakashi looked at Sakura for a few moments, then silently drew her to him and kissed her gently. “Lie down,” he said, beckoning to her to lay her head in his lap. She did so, and he caressed her hair as he spoke to her. She was an angel, he thought, with her delicate features, otherworldly eyes and dawn-blushed corona fanned out around her face-- an angel with an absolutely demonic temper.

“What brought this on, Sakura? Me carrying you? Falling?”

She nodded miserably. “Both.”

“In what way are you inferior to me?”

“In every way I can think of, Kakashi.” He looked in her eyes, and saw that she felt her words to be the truth.

”Such as…?”

“Physically, obviously. You have the stamina of a category five hurricane. You’re a genius at ninjutsu, and taijutsu… and genjutsu.”

“Naruto has the stamina of a hurricane, Sakura. Not me. And I have another person’s eye. That explains most of my so-called genius.”

“It explains the ninjutsu, sure. Although I think that even without the Sharingan you’d be at the same level. How old were you when you made jounin?”

“It explains the other techniques, too. Genjutsu can be copied. And I wouldn’t be as good at taijutsu without the Sharingan to help me see more clearly.”

“Except you usually don’t use it in battle. So your skills are your own. Really, there’s no need for false modesty.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of false modesty before.”

”That’s not surprising, considering how completely laconic you are. No one could accuse you of false modesty, because no one ever has a clue what it is you’re thinking about. Apart from porn.”

”Which should tell you something, shouldn’t it?”

”About what? Your love of literature?”

”I’ve opened up to you, Sakura. You’re the only one. You must be pretty special for that to have happened.” He ran his index finger along her lip, savoring its petal softness. “Okay. I’ll give you that I’m superior to you in those three areas. So what? You’re superior to me in so many other ways. You’re stronger than I am. You’re smarter than I am.”

Sakura snorted. “I am not smarter than you. No way.”

“You’re more intelligent than me, then. I grant that I may be a quicker thinker, but you understand things more deeply. You’re also the most gifted medical specialist Konoha has ever known. Your jutsu are on a completely different level than any other medic, with the exception of Tsunade. I have basically no medical jutsu, and even if I were to use my Sharingan on you, I wouldn’t be able to pick them up, because they’re dependent on something at which you greatly surpass me—chakra control. Your ability at chakra control was similar to mine when you were twelve, Sakura. I was twenty-six then. I’m sure you’d surpassed me by the time you were thirteen.”

“Hmmph.”

“Is that “hmmph” because you don’t agree with me or because I wasn’t there to be surpassed by you?”

She didn’t answer.

He suddenly understood.

“I should have been there, Sakura. I made a stupid decision when I decided to train Sasuke. I was serving only my own ego, though I didn’t see it at the time. He seemed most like me in temperament and ability, and I read too much into that. I was still pretty green as a teacher, and I made a rookie mistake. It’s easy to think you’re a good teacher when you focus only on the ones that will make you look good with minimal effort. That’s what I did, and in the process, I completely underestimated you and Naruto. You more than Naruto.”

”I know. But you continued his training. You pretty much wrote me off, apart from the missions we all did together. And Team Kakashi was at Tsunade’s behest, not yours.”

“Sakura. Stop for just a moment and listen. Please. Not so long ago, you accused me of turning white into black. Isn’t it possible that you’re doing the same thing here? I take responsibility for what I did to you. I underestimated you, because you were a girl, and I didn’t understand you. You seemed like another species to me, with your own rituals and language and way of interacting. I just didn’t get you. My gut reaction to you was that you were a person to protect, someone to keep out of the line of fire. When push came to shove, that’s always what happened. I didn’t see you as someone with talents to harness and mold. I did completely write you off, and I shouldn’t have done so. I’m sorry for that, Sakura. I’m sorry that it contributed to feelings you’ve been carrying around all this time. But I always cared about you. Always. I love you, Sakura, and I always have.”

“It’s hard not being as good as you or the others, Kakashi. You--” Tears were in her eyes again. It was difficult to hear him say what she’d always known to be true, that he’d thought her to be less than her teammates.

“Let me finish, Sakura. When you and Naruto did the second bell test, you completely blew me away. I should have told you then. I saw the incredible shinobi you’d become and I realized you’d done it without my help—and that you could have, should have done it with my help. I realized you were well on your way to becoming a jounin, and that as a teammate, you would be my equal. I stopped underestimating you that day. I truly began to see you differently.”

“But Team Kakashi wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, Sakura, but does it matter? Most of my ideas revolve around finding a quiet place to read. I hadn’t thought of reconstituting our team, but I was glad when Tsunade suggested it.”

“Why would you want someone who was clearly a liability on your team? I was completely outclassed by you and Naruto. Admit it.”

Kakashi sighed. ”You haven’t been listening. All shinobi—all of us have unique abilities—as individuals and also by sex. We each fit in, but in different ways. That’s what made Naruto and you and me a good team—the fact that we complemented each other. Sakura, it’s your compassion and your openness that make you a good medic. So does the fact that you cry easily. It means you have empathy. Maybe that’s not the best attribute for the battlefield, but it doesn’t mean you are any less important, or any less talented than someone who focuses on fighting hand to hand. In some ways it makes you even more important. What good is it to be a shinobi if your mind and body remain ravaged after an attack? I know that I’d be nothing without your skills.”

Sakura turned her head to avoid his eyes, only to feel the gentle pressure of Kakashi’s gloved hands as he reversed her movement and gazed into the deep green irises that had entranced him for years. “I think the thing that you’re forgetting is that there’s always someone better. Each of us will be surpassed. I was surpassed by Naruto when he was fifteen. Remember what he was like at fifteen? Still a total blockhead. It was humbling. But it’s a good thing for a student to surpass his teacher. You’ve surpassed Tsunade, and our village has benefited. And someday, you’ll be surpassed, like it or not.”

“There’s another reason for me to feel inferior.”

”Hmm?”

“You’re always right.” She half smiled.

“I lived a little bit longer than you.” Kakashi leaned down to kiss Sakura, then pulled out his book again. He didn’t open it immediately, however, as a sudden thought distracted him.

“You know, Sakura, we talked about this once before. About me not being your sensei. I tried to apologize to you, but you said that things ended up the way they did because Tsunade’s skills were a better match for yours.”

”I know I said that. And it’s true, to an extent, but not completely. When Sasuke left, and then Naruto left to train with Jiraiya, I kept waiting for you to come to me, to at least tell me that you didn’t want to be my teacher any more. But you never did. So I went to Tsunade and told myself it was for the best. And then when Team Kakashi was formed, I was so happy to be with the two of you again, that it made it even worse when you took him on as student again.”

He kissed her again, then wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. ”I’m sorry I hurt you, hana. I wish I’d known this a long time ago.” At the moment, he felt he was as clueless as Naruto when it came to women. He wondered about Sakura’s capacity to love and forgive. It seemed more immense than he’d ever realized. She’d come to him, despite how he’d treated her, in her times of greatest need. She’d opened herself to him when she’d ended things with Sasuke and when she’d lost her parents, each time seeking reassurance and comfort. He’d been there for her, in a minimal way, but then he’d abandoned her, tearing her as surely as if he’d used a kunai. How was it that she was still able to love him?

“It’s okay, Kakashi. I think I understand, now.” She took a deep breath and smiled, though not with her eyes. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

“Why don’t you relax for a little bit? You’re still tired, aren’t you? I don’t think you’re up for the run.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’ll know if someone’s approaching, long before they find us. Don’t worry.” He held the book inches away from his face, as his idle hand continued to caress Sakura’s hair.

“Read to me. Please?”

“I’m a bit ahead of where we left off, I think. Where were we exactly?”

She sniffled. “I think Jinrai was about to do Midori for the first time.”

”’Do’? You talk like a sailor, Sakura.”

”What would you call it?”

“Well… I’d call it ‘do’, too, but that’s a little different.”

”Why?” She pushed his book aside so she could watch him squirm.

He looked at her and shook his head. There was no way he was willing to light the fuse she’d just set before him. “Fine. ‘Do’ it is.” He paged through the book to find the appropriate passage. “Here we are.”

Jinrai lowered her to the ground, tearing off her ruined garment as he did so. He caressed her bruised flesh gently, and honored her with passionate kisses. He’d make her forget her pain, for a while, at least. She deserved nothing less. He rained kisses as gentle as hummingbird wings along her jawline, then moved lower to caress her exquisite collarbones. She was so fragile, her bones so small, yet she moved, he noticed, with the grace of a strong-boned panther. She almost purred in her passion, her marvelous green-gold eyes half-closed.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, offering herself to him. She didn’t need to ask twice. Jinrai moved closer to her, and lowered his lips to her breast, suckling at one, while teasing the other with his highly skilled fingertips. She moaned softly as the apex of each half-globe hardened under his ministrations.

Sakura smiled as she felt Kakashi’s idle hand slide from her hair to the zipper that held her shirt closed. He unfastened it slowly, then traced his finger over the fabric of her bra.

“You bought that one? Good girl. I can’t wait to take it off you.”

“Read, Kakashi.”

For just a moment, Jinrai hesitated. This was a friend’s niece—a paying client’s niece. She was so young, and clearly emotionally wounded. This wasn’t something he could do. He sat up and buried his face in his hands.

“Midori—“ his voice was husky with desire.

“Please. You don’t understand. I need you. Just this once. No one needs to know.” He saw the burning urgency in her eyes, and something within him snapped. In a moment, he was inside of her, feeling the searing heat of her flesh against his, her raging desire matched only by his own.

Kakashi licked his finger, then slipped it back inside Sakura’s shirt, this time pushing the bra away to expose her skin. He felt her tissues tighten immediately at his touch.

“I thought you wanted me to rest.”

“You’re the one who asked me to read. Do you really think I could resist touching you while reading this?”

“You’re the one with the supposedly infinite reserve of willpower, Kakashi. Are you really saying you couldn’t resist me if you tried?”

He moved his book aside and noticed, with a feeling of relief and pleasure, the renewed sparkle in her eyes. She was tricky, appealing to his competitive spirit. This was Gai’s method. Kakashi had said “yes” to far too many inane contests as a result of such maneuvers. Yet he picked up the rope again.

“What do I get if I win?”

“Anything you like.”

“And if I lose?”

“Anything I like. Maybe I’ll have you do housework naked.”

“You know, Sakura, we already have another bet going. Are you ready to lose twice in a row?”

“Your cockiness will be your downfall, Hatake.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Read, please.”

Jinrai had been with many women—many, many women, but there was something special about the first time with a lover. His eyes drank in the subtle curve of Midori’s hips, and the more pronounced curve of her breasts. His hands memorized the feel of her satin-velvet, ivory-pale skin, and his nose imprinted her fragrance, redolent of mock-orange and ylang-ylang. Though scratched, even mud-splattered, she was a deity in his eyes.

She rocked against him, eyes closed.

“Love me,” she cried. “Make me forget.”

He did his best to appease her, matching her rhythm with his own until he brought her to the brink of total exhilaration.

“Sakura?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Just settling in a bit. Getting more comfortable. Continue, please. I can’t wait to find out what happens next.”

“Two can play at this game, you know.”

“I don’t think so, Kakashi. There’s really no way I can lose.”

He lifted up his hitae-ate. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

Sakura looked in awe at the Sharingan that he’d set spinning slowly. Even now, years later, she realized she was still a bit afraid of it. “You wouldn’t! That would be cheating!”

“I think not. We didn’t set any guidelines, and hypnotizing you would be a very easy way to make sure you didn’t try anything.”

”Fine! Fine. I’ll stop if you stop.”

”Deal.” Kakashi smiled to himself as he resumed reading. Her presence continued to distract him, however. Something as simple as the warmth and pressure of her head against his thighs aroused him almost uncontrollably. Coupled with the text he was reading, he had little doubt how things would end.

He snapped the book shut abruptly. “We need to go.”

”Why?” She looked at him suspiciously for a moment. Then her eyes widened. “Did you sense something?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t quite a lie. He’d sensed plenty in the past few minutes.

“I really don’t think I can run, Kakashi.”

”Carrying you isn’t the worst burden I’ve ever shouldered. It’s only ten more kilometers to the ryokan.” He stood and quickly replaced Icha, Icha in his kunai pouch. “Hop on.”

…o…o…o…o…

“We can’t go in there looking like this.” Sakura peered out from behind a tree at the hotel complex that lay nestled at the bottom of the hill on which they stood.

”Good. You remembered.” Kakashi removed his hitae ate and vest, and dug in the pack for his jacket. “You’ll need to change, too. You have mud all over your rear end and legs, you know.”

“Really? What exactly should I wear? Those panties you picked out for me? A nightgown? You know full well I have nothing else to wear.” Sakura glared at him as she grabbed the pack, rummaging until she located a washcloth. She wet it and set to work rubbing at the stains running down the back of her legs, then turned her skirt back to front to scrub at the cloth. “Maybe they won’t notice,” she muttered to herself. “At least it’s black.”

She looked up to see Kakashi transformed into the dark-haired man who’d called himself Jinrai Taiheya. Sakura’s anger dissipated immediately at she gazed at him. It wasn’t that he was more handsome as Jinrai. It was just that the change in his coloration made her more aware of how remarkably gorgeous he was each and every day. He needed an eyepatch, though. Sakura removed her medical kit from the pack and rummaged through it, finding white tape and an oval of gauze. She caressed his skin as she applied the patch, then kissed him squarely and firmly on the mouth.

Her mood is all over the place. She must really be exhausted. It can’t be much past 9 a.m., but I feel like I’ve been through the ringer.

Kakashi linked his arm through hers and they slowly descended the hill to the inn.

You, my darling, sorely need a nap.

Chapter 36: Feet to Fire—Eleventh Date, part two

Kakashi looked tenderly at Sakura’s sleeping form. He had been right, as usual-- she’d desperately needed a nap. On arriving at their suite, he’d convinced her to take a bath in the heated spa outside of the bathroom. He’d joined her, and had sat behind her, massaging her neck, shoulders and arms until she’d nearly dropped off in his arms. He’d lifted the somnolent kunoichi out of the pool and tenderly dried her off, placing her naked onto the futon on which she now lay, and covering her up with the kimono-shaped kakebuton that served as bedding. Despite the fact that they were 60 kilometers south of Yukigakure, it was still rather chilly in this part of Fire. He’d been careful not to wet her hair as they’d bathed. The last thing she needed was a cold.

Kakashi lifted back the brocade-edged sudare that hung before the window and gazed at the sky. It was close to noon—he’d been watching Sakura sleep for the past two hours. It was easy to do so. He doubted he’d ever tire of looking at her, even as they grew older. It wasn’t just her beauty that entranced him-- there was so much more to the woman by his side. A peacefulness emanated from her as she slept—something he rarely picked up on during waking hours. Right now she looked fragile, as though cast from fine porcelain. It was hard to reconcile this impression with the incredible strength he knew she was able to harness. Like all kunoichi, Sakura was tough, and as with most kunoichi, it was hard to see this strength at first glance. Underestimation by others, after all, was the key weapon for a kunoichi, especially when dealing with non-shinobi. For someone as petite and seemingly mild as Sakura to unleash the power of her chakra-laden fists was always a surprise. He smiled as he remembered the shock and wonder he’d felt the first time he’d fallen victim to her forceful punch.

Sakura, he realized, had missed a key lesson somewhere along the way: one’s greatest weakness can also be one’s greatest strength. Yes, she’d been underestimated. But it was also true that as a woman she would continue to be underestimated. Why not use that to her advantage? Kakashi chuckled. She’d so wanted to be like the boys that she’d underestimated herself, as well. She didn’t seem to understand that her femininity was a tremendous resource. He certainly valued it.

It had been a difficult morning, and Kakashi looked forward to a more straightforward afternoon. He’d been anxiously waiting for Sakura to open the puzzle box, as he wanted so much to ask her to be his wife. He had created a few scenarios in his mind of just how she’d react when she saw the twin rings. In the first, she gasped with delight, and turned to him as her eyes filled up with tears, a tremor in her voice as she softly said “yes.” In the second, she tackled him with her enthusiasm, and kissed him passionately. It turned into a more regular Kakashi fantasy from there. He smiled as he indulged himself for a moment, then frowned. Reality, to his dismay, did not seem to be approaching either of these scenarios, as in real life she hadn’t made much headway with the puzzle. To be honest, this wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t really tried to solve it, but he was equally to blame, distracted as they both had been by each other’s presence. He reached into their shared pack and located the small, inlaid box, then set it atop a note he’d scrawled. He brushed her lips lightly with her own, then stood and silently left their suite. He was absolutely ravenous, and had a lot to accomplish before she awakened.

The concierge, Kakashi noticed as he entered the lobby, was the same elderly man who had been so helpful on their first visit to the ryokan. Kakashi bowed to him and thanked him profusely (for Kakashi, that is) for his help during their last visit and after. The man had secured for them the very same room they’d stayed in previously, and on entering their room, Kakashi and Sakura had found their belongings waiting for them, just as Kakashi had left them.

“It is only my job, Taiheya-san. Your fiancée is well, I trust? I have been very concerned about her and have left offerings and lit incense for her every day.”

“Yes, she is much better, though still not one hundred percent. She’s tired and needs to rest. I had hoped to take her someplace this afternoon where she might be surrounded by beauty. Someplace isolated and natural, but close by. She loves the woods, and flowers—“

“Mizuhiki!” The concierge’s eyes sparkled as he exclaimed.

“Dogwood? Isn’t it too early for them to be in flower? In our village, they don’t bloom until late June.”

“That is true of our native tree, kousa. But we have a grove planted years ago by a botanist

who acquired them from the most western edge of rock country. They are blooming right now. They’re on private land, but I know the owner—the botanist I spoke of. You’ll be completely alone—he’s off collecting plants in Mist, I think. It’s decided then?” The concierge clapped his hands together in anticipation. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare you a bento. Leave everything to me—you won’t be disappointed. Will three o’clock work for you?”

Well, that takes care of this afternoon, Kakashi thought, as he settled onto a zabuton in the ryokan’s dining room. I thought I’d have my hands full. He lifted the lid on his bowl of miso soup and tucked in with relish. It certainly was good to be back in Fire, eating familiar food. It was funny how certain foods seemed to be the very definition of comfort. This was almost his perfect meal, though they were too far from the ocean for saury to be on the menu, and it was still far too early for nasu. Gohan and miso soup would do nicely, however.

Kakashi autographed (as Jinrai Taiheya, of course) the slip of paper brought to him precisely as he finished his meal, then strolled to the restaurant’s street exit. It wasn’t far to the video store he’d visited their first time here. It should be good for at least an hour’s browsing. He’d then go back to Sakura, and wake her gently, leaving plenty of time for her to acclimate before setting out on their picnic. He’d learned his lesson about her aversion to sudden changes just after awakening, and the black moods that could easily result from mishandling. She was a bit like a tagged kunai, really, needing careful handling and attention to detail. But, as with tagged kunai, the benefits of keeping her by his side were certainly worth it. She was as brilliant as any explosion, and far more exciting.

Kakashi parted the noren shading the video store and saw the proprietor look up from the catalog he perused. The man smiled immediately.

“I recognize you!” This was typically not what a visitor wanted to hear when entering a store of this type, but Kakashi took it in stride. “And how were the Icha, Icha videos?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Pretty much as I expected. True to the book.” The best movie I’ve ever seen. He headed to a shelf stocked with videos and pulled out a case to survey its cover. He’d seen it, though he didn’t quite remember the plot. The cover had served to remind him that there were other, more memorable assets in this particular film. He sighed as he scanned through the other titles on this shelf. He’d seen them all, in Konoha’s local theater, or while on the road. Moreover, he doubted he’d be able to convince Sakura to watch any of them with him. Even the Icha, Icha ones he already owned would be a stretch, although she’d admitted to liking the volume they’d been sharing. There really was nothing here worth purchasing. He turned to the proprietor, who was looking at him quizzically. “Is there a book store in this village?”

”Depends on what you’re looking for, really. There’s one just down the road, but it sells… family-oriented literature.” He noted Kakashi’s crestfallen look, then reached under the counter and pulled out a thick, plain-bound book. “I do have something you might find interesting, however.” Kakashi slouched over to the counter and picked up the book. It fell open to the frontispiece, which held an incredibly detailed and accurate black and white drawing of… Sakura? He looked more closely at the drawing. There was no doubt that it was she. Jiraiya had captured certain aspects of her figure that Kakashi had been sure only he was aware of.

“What exactly is this?” He wasn’t sure if he should feel titillated or offended. Surprisingly, he found that he felt a mixture of both.

“My cousin works for the publishing house that puts out the Icha, Icha series. This is a galley of the latest book—its working title is Icha, Icha Teisatsu. They weren’t expecting his next book for another six months, so they were a bit surprised when the manuscript arrived, but Jiraiya claimed that the muse had inspired him—“

Kakashi interrupted gruffly. “How much do you want for it?”

“Well, as I was saying, it’s an early galley-- a publisher’s copy for proofreading and such. The actual book won’t be out for months, and as you can see, the illustrations are still in black and white. Still, I’d say 3,000 would be fair, considering the trouble my cousin went to in acquiring it…”

Kakashi retrieved his wallet and pulled out his remaining cash. He had 2,800 left, the last of the money Tsunade had sent. Of course, he had emergency funds sewn into the lining of his jounin vest, but the store owner didn’t need to know about that. “Here’s all I have. Do we have a deal?”

The proprietor handed Kakashi the volume with a wide smile. “I can tell you’re a big fan. I had a feeling you’d be back, so I saved it for you.” Kakashi didn’t hear, however. He was halfway out the door by the time the man had finished speaking, in search of a secluded bench where he might sit and read for a while. He didn’t dare go back to the ryokan—if Sakura saw the book, he was sure she would flip, particularly after the experience of being surveilled by her neighbor. There was no way she knew anything about this book, he thought as he flipped through the tome, examining its many illustrations. She never would have posed for drawings such as these. They were quite graphic, although the most detailed ones did not depict any sex acts, per se. They had in common the fact that in each drawing Sakura was alone and fully naked, whether bathing, standing near a window, or lying atop a bed. They were such as might be drawn by a voyeur, and Kakashi had no doubt that this was how Jiraiya had obtained him. She’d mentioned a visit to the sannin, he remembered, when she’d given Kakashi the previous volume of Icha, Icha. That must have been when this had happened.

He couldn’t let the book be published, he realized, but there was no reason he could think of that precluded him from reading the copy he held in his hands. He still had some time before he needed to return to the inn to wake up the real Sakura. What better way to spend a beautiful spring afternoon?

He began reading and immediately laughed aloud. As usual, the main character was a silver-haired man. Jiraiya couldn’t resist casting himself in the lead, it seemed. But Kakashi found, as he read on, that this man appeared to be a bit younger than typical. And his name was Toriodoshi Hojou? Those were synonyms for scarecrow and field, respectively. Had Jiraiya remembered the drunken monologue Kakashi had given many years before, in which he’d obliquely mentioned his feelings for Sakura, or was this Tsunade’s work? Their on-again, off-again relationship must be on-again, he realized-- hence Jiraiya’s decision to model the female lead on someone other than Tsunade. He paged ahead. As if to drive the point home, as if the spot-on drawings weren’t enough, the female’s name was Danki Ume. As there was no synonym for “cherry blossom,” the author-illustrator had gone with “plum”. “Fine work, Jiraiya. Subtle as usual,” Kakashi drawled sarcastically. Just when was he planning on publishing? Hopefully not before Kakashi could get to him, or the press, whichever was more expedient.

Once he got past the shock of he and his future wife being portrayed in a novel that would likely be topping the best-seller list, Kakashi found himself engrossed by the text, and even more so by the illustrations. The way the drawn “Ume” held her head was just exactly the way Sakura held hers, and the arms lifted over her head had the same graceful curve that Sakura’s had displayed as she’d lifted her hair off her neck while entering the bath this afternoon. Even the damp tendrils clustered on her neck were a perfect match. And the perfect curve of her breasts-- Kakashi snapped the book shut. What was he doing sitting out here reading about Jiraiya’s fantasies of his lover, when the real thing was only steps away?

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura woke slowly and lay for a while in complete relaxation, as narrow bands of bamboo-filtered light flickered across her face. It must be two or three, she surmised, based on the quality of light entering the room. The suite itself was perfectly quiet, and the only sounds she could hear were the whispered conversations of the softly swaying fir trees that sat on the ridge surrounding the inn. She was still tired, but definitely more rested than she’d been this morning. It puzzled her that just a few kilometers of running had so thoroughly exhausted her. Hopefully, Kakashi would be amenable to training with her for the next few days. She desperately needed to get back into condition.

“Kakashi?” Apparently he wasn’t here, and that was just as well. She didn’t want to reprise this morning’s events, and as always, she needed a little time to herself. She rolled over and saw the puzzle box and the note it sat atop. The note was mostly illegible, but she could make out “himitsu bako,” and “back by mid-afternoon.” Wisely, he hadn’t written an exact time. She knew he considered mid-afternoon any time between one and six p.m.: this way he could be back when promised. Apparently he wanted to avoid rankling her further.

“Smart man,” she said softly as she rose from the bed in search of her backpack. It was in the room next door, she found. She quickly unpacked it, eager to finally wear something other than the black skirt and matching skirt she’d worn in Snow and on the journey back. She settled on the chartreuse dress she’d worn once before, then returned back to the other bedroom to collect her new underthings. She had a surprise in store for Kakashi. After a bit of cajoling, Noriko had convinced her to purchase the Alençon lace-embellished set she’d been pushing on her. Sakura unwrapped the elaborately folded washi paper that Noriko had packaged the garments in and tried them on. They were the exact same color of her hair, and like her hair, set off her skin dramatically. She was sure Kakashi would be tickled to see her wearing something so impractical as this. She hadn’t owned any pink clothing (or any other item, for that matter) since she was thirteen. She’d decided around then that the color was too girly, too feminine. It was bad enough to be saddled with hair that caused people to refer to her as a doll or a valentine—she hadn’t wanted to encourage such statements. Somehow, though, she felt differently now. Despite their pink color, she’d listened to Noriko and bought the two items, although she’d said no to the matching garter belt, seeing absolutely no use for it. She second guessed that decision now. Noriko did seem to know her stuff, and Sakura realized there was nothing more she wanted than to please the copy ninja. It wasn’t just that she was in love with him. He did something to her—he made her feel sexual, wanted, wanton. She loved how she felt every time he touched her. She craved him, she realized.

Sakura smiled as she slipped her dress on and looked at herself in the full-length mirror secured to one of the sliding closet doors. She actually had cleavage. She traversed the hall to the bathroom directly across from her former bedroom and set out her toiletries and makeup. Just a touch of blush and mascara was all she wore on the rare occasions when she did decide to wear makeup. Today however, she put a bit more effort into her toilette, lining her upper lid with a smudge of moss green, and applying a touch of cherry pink lipstick.

Now came the waiting, a fundamental aspect of any interaction involving Kakashi. Sakura returned to the bedroom she would be sharing with her lover (there was no question about that, despite the presence of an extra bedroom in the suite) and retrieved the himitsu bako, then settled herself in a sunny patch of the courtyard adjacent to the bathroom. She quickly made headway with the puzzle, although there was no way of telling how close she was to completing it. She’d slid 15 kannuki so far, three of them twice. For a box this small, she’d guess she was at the half-way point, but knowing Kakashi, he’d probably purchased the most complicated one the vendor had. It was funny how he still lapsed into teacher-mode occasionally, but then, old habits did die hard.

“Working hard, I see.” She looked up to see Kakashi smiling at her. “For a moment, I thought you’d left. Then I thought to look outside.”

”Where would I go?” She looked down at the puzzle which had confounded her yet again. Kakashi took the box from her and turned it over in his hands.

“Looks like you’re about a third of the way there.” He’d memorized it with his Sharingan, apparently.

”Oh. Just a third? So it has 60 keys?” She looked at him and frowned. “Just why are you so eager for me to unlock it? There’s obviously nothing inside.”

”Have you had any challenges lately, Sakura?” There he was, lapsing into teacher mode again. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

“Have you, Kaka-sensei? Not since you were a teenager, I’d wager.”

“You’ll never win a bet against me, love. Actually, you’ve been quite a challenge, recently.”

“Sorry about that.” She suddenly realized she hadn’t properly apologized for her behavior that morning.

”We all perform at less than our best when on the brink of exhaustion. There’s no need to apologize.” He smiled as he reached out his hand. “Are you up for a very short walk? There’s some place I’d like to take you.”

It wasn’t far to the land-holding the concierge had described, and soon Kakashi and Sakura approached the oversized, wrought iron gate that restricted access to the property. The Sharingan-user produced the key and pushed the unlocked gate open, noting how smoothly it moved on its hinges. Apart from the gate itself, there was nothing spectacular about the property at first glance, but this was probably by design. The presence of the locked gate itself suggested visitors were not normally welcome here. As the couple moved several meters down a narrow, bark chip-covered path, their senses were overcome by a heady mix of floral scents and vivid colors. In the dappled shade provided by the tall, coniferous canopy was a field of bluebells, its blooms nodding randomly in the gentle spring breeze. Climbing through the understory were native clematis, on the verge of blooming, and vigorous Wistaria, which threatened to overpower the redbuds and witch hazels they used as support.

“This is…amazing.” Sakura’s voice was soft with delight and wonder. Kakashi released the henge jutsu as she spoke, quickly fading into his usual, silver-haired self.

“It’s all ours for the afternoon. Keep walking. Our picnic is up ahead, or so I was told.” They quickly came upon the grove of mizuhiki the concierge had praised, and the dinner-laden blanket spread under one of the largest specimens. The concierge had promised bento, but this was much more, a kaiseki meal, from the looks of it. Kakashi knelt across from Sakura and stopped her as she began to lift the lids off the numerous lacquer and porcelain containers.

“Let me serve you.” He poured her a cup of sake, then found two small, square plates and lifted the lid off what he assumed was the first course, sushi. As they were some distance from the ocean, the sushi was made of local offerings: apart from the sake rolls that Kakashi prized, there was fried and stuffed tofu, crayfish, and tamago sushi, as well as nigiri-zushi that layered raw beef over rice.

Sakura devoured the food on her plate mere minutes after being handed it. She hadn’t eaten since 6 a.m., after all, and it was now well past three. Once she’d polished off the last of her sushi, she turned to Kakashi and looked at him curiously. “Why are we here?”

“On Earth? Damned if I know. To live our lives fully, I guess.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. Why are we here, having a picnic?”

“I wanted to make it up to you, since the last one turned out so poorly.”

She still couldn’t fully remember the events of that day. She recalled only glimpses—some quite pleasant, others mortifying.

“Well, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

”I’d love to take credit, but I can’t. The concierge set everything up.”

”Hmm.”

”Still hungry?” Sakura nodded, and Kakashi set out several small dishes that comprised the second course. There were fiddleheads braised in soy sauce, sato imo cut into elegant hexagons and served in dashi, tiny quail eggs lying in nests of fried somen noodles, and miso-dressed asparagus, as well as iwana no kotsu-sake—a local fish browned, then steeped in hot sake.

“Everything is so elegant,” Sakura said softly. The worst of her hunger satisfied, she savored the dishes Kakashi set before her, taking tiny bites of each to compare the composition of textures and flavors the chef had assembled.

Eventually, they finished, and set to work on the final dishes—the traditional third course of miso soup, rice and pickles. Sakura found she wasn’t hungry, though she finished her rice out of politeness ingrained at an early age. Kakashi on the other hand, had no qualms about relieving her of her uneaten miso soup. He sighed contentedly when he finished.

“I really don’t understand how you stay so slim.”

”You should talk. Sakura, come sit by me.” Kakashi looked up his self-appointed task of clearing away the dinner dishes and placing them into a hamper that had been set behind the closest tree.

“Do I have to sit? I think I’d rather lie down.”

”As long as you’re next to me.”

Sakura used Kakashi’s lap as a pillow as she lay down perpendicular to his body. She had a marvelous view, she realized—not only of Kakashi’s warm gaze as he smiled down at her, but also of the starlike dogwood flowers that hovered above them both in a dark green sky. She could lose herself in the beauty that surrounded her. The riverside park had been similar, she suddenly realized. An image flashed into her mind of pale pink petals falling slowly to the ground, like falling stars. She’d been sitting with Kakashi, not lying on his lap, of course, but she’d felt comfortable nonetheless. What had they been talking about? The memory seemed serious. She reached for the details but failed to grasp them.

“Why don’t you work on that puzzle for a while?”

“Oh. I didn’t think to bring it. It’s sitting on the dresser next to my backpack.” She paused for a moment, and looked at him quizzically. “You really do have a one track mind, you know.”

”There are advantages to being able to maintain a singular focus, you know.”

”Such as?”

”I believe you’ve already experienced some of them.”

Sakura blushed scarlet. How could the man turn the simplest of comments into a sexual innuendo?

“You’re so beautiful when you’re embarrassed.” He leaned down to kiss her, then ran his hand over her décolletage. “I forgot to tell you earlier how devastatingly gorgeous you look this afternoon.” He caught a glimpse of pink peeking out from the neckline of her dress. “What’s this?” A devilish smile accompanied the words.

“A surprise. Make love to me and see for yourself.”

“Un, zehi. But not yet. We need to talk first.”

Sakura heard an unfamiliar tone in his voice. She sat up quickly as she tried to place it. It wasn’t anger, or frustration, but there was an urgency to it. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing is wrong. Far from it.” He took her hand in his own and looked into her eyes. “Sakura, I can’t imagine you not being in my life. You’re everything to me. You realize that, don’t you?”

She didn’t respond. Her body felt frozen, paralyzed.

“You know that I’ve never loved anyone but you.”

Yes, he said that in the hospital. But… Sakura’s mind spun as a fresh image manifested itself in her mind. She was sitting with Kakashi on a park bench and they were talking… about love. Sakura’s eyes glazed over as the memory replayed itself.

‘Kakashi, have you ever been in love?’

A long silence, and then, ‘Yes.’

‘Will you tell me about her?’

‘What would you like to know?’

‘Why did you love her? How did you know you were in love?’

‘Why did I love her?’ His words slowed. ‘Let’s see. She was... smart as a whip, kind and generous to a fault, but a bit prickly. Completely industrious, a perfectionist, the type of person who trusted completely once she bestowed her trust, and the type of person who deserved your trust. She put her whole self into every thing she did. She committed fully and completely to the things she cared about. She was passionate, in every sense of the word. Hot tempered, but also so very loving. Not the type of person to hold back.’

“Sakura? Sakura?” Kakashi was looking at her with concern. “Is everything okay?”

She didn’t answer, as she couldn’t hear him. The memory continued to play out and she focused fully on it, memorizing each word.

‘Wow. She sounds special.’

‘Yes. Definitely.’

‘And how did you know you were in love?’

‘It crept up on me. We were friends first, and slowly I began to see her differently. I knew all of those things about her already, and I already loved her because of them, but slowly, things changed until suddenly I saw that I was incomplete without her.’

“You don’t look well. Do you need to rest?”

“Kakashi.” Her voice was almost inaudible, but her eyes showed the kindling of a growing fury. “Why are you lying to me?”

Chapter 37: Feet to Fire—11th Date, part 3

“Nani?” Kakashi looked incredulously at Sakura. Here he was, in the midst of proposing to her, and she accuses him of lying to her? He had decided it couldn’t wait. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t found the rings—they were only a token, anyway, just a sign of his affection. The hour had seemed perfect. She was flushed with enjoyment, so obviously enchanted with the location, dinner, and him. He’d decided to live dangerously for once, to embrace the spontaneity he usually avoided. It had blown up in his face. He really should have known better-- the day had started off abysmally, after all. But could it possibly get any worse? He’d thought not, but he’d been proven wrong. Spectacularly. Maybe next he could get struck by lightning, or carried away in a flash flood. Either would be a fitting conclusion to a day of similar disastrous proportions. But perhaps the day was salvageable-- maybe this was a simple misunderstanding. Considering he was dealing with Sakura, it seemed very likely. She jumped to conclusions—the wrong conclusions—so easily. How was it possible that she could excel in a cold, logic-driven field such as medicine?

He found his voice and addressed the irate kunoichi. “Sakura, what are you talking about? I’ve never lied to you—“ And that was true, almost. He’d never lied to her about anything of consequence. This assumed of course, that lies of omission were discounted.

Her voice was sharp as she interrupted. “You obviously have. You told me that you’d been in love before. We were sitting on a bench, under the trees, during the festival. When I asked you point blank, your exact words were ‘Yes. Definitely.’ That’s pretty emphatic.” She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. “So, which was it? Were you lying just now, or did you forget all about your first love for a minute?”

“By any chance do you remember the entire conversation?” This is what she’s angry about? Kakashi breathed more easily, and tried his best to maintain a calm face, though he wanted desperately to burst out laughing. He subdued his rising mirth. He knew that so much as the smallest giggle would incur Sakura’s wrath.

“Yes-- the memory just came back to me. You said it snuck up on you. That you were friends first, and that you loved her as a friend, but that gradually you began to see her differently. It was Rin, wasn’t it? Why can’t you be honest about that? Do you really think it would make a difference to me that you’d loved someone else? You’re almost 40, Kakashi. It would be kind of creepy if you had never been in love until now.”

“What else did I say?” He looked at her intently. “How did I describe the girl I fell in love with?”

“You said she was smart, and trusting and a perfectionist. That she was passionate and didn’t hold back. That she was loving. And prickly… and hot tempered…”

”And that doesn’t remind you of someone?” He gave her an encouraging half-smile.

Sakura looked at him, eyes alight with righteous indignation. “I don’t know anything about your past love life. How am I supposed to know who the hell you were talking about? You were probably a teenager at the time. How would you expect me to know anything about the people you hung around with twenty or twenty five--”

“You.”

“What about me?”

He rolled his eyes, both bandaged and visible. For someone so intelligent, she certainly could be dense at times.

“I was in love with you.”

“What?!” It was her turn to stare in wonder, mouth agape. Her mind whirled as she considered the implications. She was quiet for what seemed to Kakashi to be only seconds less than an eternity. But when she did speak, her words were not what Kakashi expected to hear.

“How long.” Her words were flat in intonation and hollow, as though her voice were somehow disconnected from her body.

“I’m not sure. As I said, it crept up on me.”

“Recently?”

“No, Sakura.” He paused. “The truth is, I’ve been in love with you for years. Forever, almost.”

“Forever.” Her face went blank as she tried to comprehend. “You’ve been in love with me forever.”

”Seems like it, yes.”

“I see.” She sat silently for several minutes as she considered his words, then slowly got to her feet.

“Sakura?” There was no outburst, no swinging of fists, no typical fiery-tempered Sakura reaction. She was strangely subdued. And now she was turning away, as if to leave. From her posture she seemed beaten, crushed down, almost forlorn.

“Sakura.”

“I can’t talk to you right now.” Her voice was even and soft, displaying neither the tremor indicative of oncoming tears, nor the constriction and rising pitch that often preceded a full-on scream. She turned back to gaze at him for a moment, her emerald eyes slightly bluer and cooler than usual, unaccentuated by the tiny muscle twitch he usually saw just before she exploded. Then she closed her eyes as if gathering her resolve to do an extremely difficult task.

“Matte kudasai. Sakura, please stay. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

”I don’t know what to think. I need some time.” She turned away, and walked slowly along the rough path that wound through the understory, and out of the garden.

Kakashi leaned back against the tree and tried to make sense out of the non-argument they’d just had. The angry, spitfire version of Sakura he understood. Even in her irrational moments she made a kind of sense, once he abandoned typical cause-and-effect thinking, and approached things more holistically. But this deadly calm, almost cold Sakura was a different story altogether. What could she be thinking that would drain her of emotion, her very lifeblood?

You left her, stupid.

It came to him suddenly. That had to be it.

How would you feel if you were Sakura? If the person who had abandoned you when you lay broken informed you that when he’d done so, he’d been deeply in love with you? How would you feel if the person claiming to have been in love with you “forever” revealed himself to be a damned coward?

How would he feel? Drained? Confused? Betrayed?

Shit.

He needed to talk to her, needed to make things right.

He half rose from his seat, then sunk back down again as he realized how futile it would be to pursue her immediately. Talking to her before she’d had a chance to think things through would be foolish, strategically thinking. It was possible, no, probable that she’d reach an unwarranted conclusion if left to her own devices, as that seemed to be her forte, but if he interrupted her beforehand, there would be hell to pay. If he had learned anything during this horrible day it was that sometimes Haruno Sakura needed her space. It would be best, he saw, to honor that request.

Kakashi packed away the remainder of the dinner items, then shook out and folded the cloth that had served as their dining room. She’d need at least a half-hour, he thought, before she’d be ready to talk and more importantly, to listen. In the meantime, he might as well work on his apology, and a suitably phrased explanation for the long delay in letting her know of his feelings for her. He picked up the loaded hamper and began to walk toward the entrance to the secluded space that had served him so poorly as an idyll. He produced a kunai and cut bluebells as he walked. A massive bouquet of the fragrant blooms would do no harm, he thought. And maybe some chocolate would help, as well. It always worked in the Icha, Icha novels, anyway.

He was halfway down the village’s main street when it suddenly occurred to him. The book. He’d placed it for safekeeping in the backpack they’d shared. If she were to find it-- an image of a sudden, devastating pyroclastic eruption filled his mind. He sprinted back to the inn.

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura was halfway back to the ryokan before she realized she had no key. She had no intention of using any ninja arts to open the door. She had nothing on her person that could serve as a pick, and she had no desire to be dressed down by this staff for another damaged door. At least she wasn’t crying, she thought bitterly. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, but having to do so with a puffy, tear-stained face would be too much to bear.

She located the concierge after removing her boots at the entrance, and quietly explained her needs. Apart from being locked out, she felt a headache coming on, and needed to make some herbal tea. The concierge was solicitous, however, and tactful, as well, as one would expect at an inn of this caliber. He quickly procured a vacuum flask of hot water and the extra room key she needed, and limited his conversation to vague comments about the weather forecast. Sakura sighed as she entered the elegant suite she had yet to enjoy, then locked and bolted the western-style entrance to the room. After setting the flask on the small living room’s kotatsu she entered the bedroom she had planned to share with Kakashi. Small chance of that now, she thought. She was too confused, and too hurt to want to spend time with him, let alone be intimate. She knelt by the backpack Kakashi had prepared before leaving Snow and began to remove items as she searched for her medic’s kit. Hopefully it contained some willowbark or another herb that might avert a headache. Kit located and set on the futon, Sakura repacked the bag, which contained mostly Kakashi’s clothes, a couple of bags of potato chips, and little else of interest. She smiled wryly as she moved a dark blue t-shirt from the pile of items, uncovering a white-bound book imprinted in simple, small katakana: Icha, Icha, Teisatsu. At least he’d have something to keep him company tonight. She set it on the low table that served as nightstand. Hopefully, he’d understand the implied suggestion.

Kit in hand, Sakura exited the bedroom, grabbed the flask of hot water and hastily made herself a tisane of willowbark. She gulped down the bitter brew as quickly as possible. It was nauseating, but should be an effective prophylactic. She needed to think things through logically, and a headache would slow down this process considerably.

She flopped on the futon and struggled to figure out, first of all, just what she was feeling.

She was angry, to be sure, but this anger felt different from her usual intense, but short-lived rage. It was deeper, and ragged, as though she’d rushed headlong through a plate glass window, embedding shards deep within her body. There was hurt, too—she felt tremendously let down, as though something she had counted on had never been there. It was trust, she realized. She’d misplaced her trust.

He’d loved her, he said, forever. Almost forever. What did that mean? They’d known each other for half her life. Did forever start at the beginning of that time, or when she was older? They really hadn’t interacted that much in the past twelve years, and it had been in short bursts each time. Her first year as a genin had been under his tutelage, then three years later they’d reunited as senpai and kohai, as near equals on Team Kakashi. They’d interacted for two years, that time. Then he’d disappeared from her life again. They’d almost never crossed paths until that day in the woods only weeks ago. So where did forever begin? There were only two choices. Had she been fifteen or even sixteen when he’d begun to fall in love with her? If so, why hadn’t he told her? She’d been a chunnin by then, a highly respected member of the village, a key staff member at the hospital—an adult in almost every aspect of the word. She’d lived alone, as an adult did, and had killed people and been wounded as a soldier for the village. She couldn’t legally drink alcohol yet, but the ability to make all other key decisions had been entrusted to her well before that time. She could even marry with her parents’ permission. Furthermore, Kakashi had made it clear to her and Naruto that he was no longer their sensei, which meant that the student-teacher taboo was no longer relevant. Not that the taboo was really an issue, considering that Tsunade herself was the offspring of such a liaison.

The situation just didn’t make sense. If he loved her as deeply as he said, surely he would have told her when he realized his feelings. She was certain of it. Kakashi had proven again and again that he didn’t care what people thought of him. The man read porn in public, after all. He was always late, even to meetings with the hokage, and for most of his life he’d put up with constant questions and comments about his mask. Falling in love with a fifteen-year old wouldn’t have bothered him. She was sure of this. Besides, it was well known that certain jounins favored younger kunoichi. Ino had been with several of them her fifteenth year. An image of Genma, grinning smugly, with her best friend draped over him like an accessory sprang unbidden into her mind. He hadn’t cared—it had been a point of pride for him, in fact, that he was able to attract such young beauties. So why would this have been an issue for Kakashi? The answer was: it wasn’t. There was just no way.

Added to this was the fact that fifteen or sixteen was not far at all from eighteen. In only two or three years she would have reached her majority. If the fact that she was a minor really had been a concern, he could have waited two years and told her of his feelings when she reached what society defined as adulthood. Or he could have treated her like his equal, like the adult she essentially was, told her of his feelings, and waited by her side until she reached adulthood. But he hadn’t done either of these things. She was twenty four now, and the meeting that had set current events into motion had been purely accidental. If he loved her as much as he said, why would he have waited so long? Why would he have left things to chance? The Kakashi she knew didn’t act in this way. He made his own future.

So where did that leave her? What could she reasonably infer from all of this? The answer seemed clear. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted them to be together. Furthermore, it was reasonable to conclude that he hadn’t fallen in love with her during their second period of time together—the actions that would have ensued didn’t fit his character. The only other time she’d associated with Kakashi had been as genin—was that what this was all about? Was it possible that he’d fallen in love with her that long ago? That he’d seen his attraction to her as wrong, and had distanced himself to keep things from progressing?

No. That can’t be.

She laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it.

But does the evidence fit? Use Occam’s Razor. The simplest explanation that fits every fact is the best explanation. What other explanation can you think of?

She thought of the girl she’d been twelve years earlier-- a girl consumed by puppy love and entirely focused on someone incapable of loving her in return. A girl with gangly arms and legs, an oversized forehead, and a boyish, still underdeveloped figure. A girl not that different from that genin in the park.

He’d kissed her so passionately after looking at that girl. He’d told her he loved her.

And that evening, he’d shaved her.

Sakura stood and slowly undressed, then turned to examine herself in the full-length mirror. She had a woman’s body, to be sure. But it was less curvaceous than most kunoichi’s, much more boyish and muscular, less padded and soft. More childish. It really wasn’t that different from when she was twelve.

She felt dizzy, as image after image converged in her mind, crystallizing her hypothesis.

“She reminds me of you. I love you, Sakura.”

“You, sweet cherry blossom, are a very naughty girl. How am I going to punish you? Maybe I should lay you over my knee and warm your gorgeous bottom. You’ve never been spanked, have you? I’m sure you were terribly spoiled, being an only child and all.”

“What do you think people will say when we get back to Konoha?”

“That I’m a cradle-robber, most likely. That I’m a Svengali—that I’ve hypnotized you with the Sharingan and stolen away your free will. That this has been going on since you were twelve.”

Sakura collapsed on the futon and finally began to cry.

…o…o…o…o…

The bolt securing the door held back Kakashi for all of thirty seconds. He rushed into the bedroom and knelt over the backpack. He’d hastily wrapped the book in a t-shirt, then set it on the very top of the stack of items within the bag. Where was it?

Kuso.

He flopped onto the futon. He’d just added fuel to the strange, cool fire that had been smoldering within Sakura. How was he going to explain possession of a semi-pornographic novel that featured her as a central character? It would have been hard enough to bring up the topic out of the blue, but he’d figured he’d have a bit of time before she needed to know about it, or that he could somehow make the problem disappear by quietly confronting Jiraiya and appealing, if necessary, to his romantic side. Surely he wouldn’t publish the novel if he knew they were getting married.

Kakashi rolled over onto his side and saw the novel resting on the nightstand.

Shit. Shit.

Then he heard her sobs. They were different from those of this morning. Her tears then had been born of frustration, of feelings of inferiority, and of simple exhaustion. These, he could tell, were full of despair and loss. He’d heard her cry like this twice before. The first time had been when she’d given up on Sasuke. The second time was when she’d lost her parents. That time had been worse—she’d almost drowned in her grief. And that’s how she was crying now—as if someone dear to her had died, as though she’d lost her most precious person.

In a moment he stood outside her room.

“Sakura?”

She either didn’t hear him or chose not to answer.

“Sakura? I’m coming in.”

“No.” He heard a staccato inhalation as she tried to calm herself. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Please, Sakura. I need to explain some things to you. I need to apologize to you.”

“You’re not going to go away, are you.” Her voice was flat. “Give me a minute, then.”

He waited, as instructed, then slid back the fusuma to see Sakura’s small figure under the thickly padded kakebuton. She looked fragile, almost invalid, her bare arms nearly white against the deep indigo of the quilt. He placed the armful of flowers he’d collected on her beside table (he’d foregone the chocolates after remembering about the book), then sat gingerly on the edge of the futon and reached out to touch her. She shrank back in pain, as though he’d touched her with red hot tip of a cigarette. She turned her face away from him, the curtain of hair that hid her features quickly dampening with freshly shed tears.

“Sakura…I’m sorry.” Kakashi reached out his hand to touch her again, but abruptly stopped, leaving his hand poised above her as he grasped for words. “You know—“

“That you’re a hentai?” She turned to face him. “I’ve known that since the day I first met you. But I didn’t think-- I thought it was harmless. They were just silly books you read to pass the time. I thought they were amusing, once we started reading them together. I was even willing… I was even willing to take part in whatever fantasies they’d inspired in you. Did you know that?" She smiled ruefully. "But this is different. This perversion centers around me—around us. It takes something that should be beautiful—almost spiritual—and turns it into something rank and base. Something disgusting that has to be hidden from the light of day.” Her expression was bleak as she searched his face. “I thought you loved me, Kakashi.”

”I do love you!” How could she think otherwise?

“No. You love some image of me, some perverted fantasy of an innocent girl who doesn’t exist, and never did.”

“No, Sakura. I love you.”

She threw back the kakebuton, revealing her naked body to him. “Look at me.”

She really didn’t have to issue that command, as his eyes were already scanning her gorgeous, unblemished flesh, appreciating the subtle curve of her hips, and the perfect half globes that were her breasts. Was there something in particular he was supposed to be considering? She was an absolute goddess, his very definition of femininity. Even now he wanted to take her, to show her again and again how much he loved her.

“I’m not that girl, Kakashi.”

He shook his head in disbelief. She was every bit the woman portrayed in Jiraiya’s drawings. How was it possible that she could compare herself to them and find herself lacking? She was clearly distraught, beyond consolation. He cursed himself for his lack of self control in buying the book. What could he do to fix things?

"Sakura, you are that girl. You're the girl-- the woman-- I love."

Her eyes widened and tears began to cascade freely over their red-rimmed lower lids.. "You... you really don't think there's anything wrong with..."

"With loving you? No, Sakura."

She turned away as her body shook. What was going on? Kakashi wondered. This had to do with her neighbor spying on her-- that had to be it. But why was she so upset with him? Other than the obvious reason, of course. He really should never have purchased that book.

“Sakura, I meant to tell you. I—"

She stared at him, incredulous. “Did you really think I would be okay with it? Did you really think that I would be okay with you making love to me while entertaining some sick fantasy of me?”

What was she talking about? The pictures weren’t sick—they were beautiful, actually, more tasteful than most of Jiraiya’s previous work. The text—well, he hadn’t actually gotten too far into it. Had the sannin gone farther than usual in his descriptions? Damn him for screwing this up.

“Sakura, you may find this hard to believe, but I had your best interests at heart. I always have, hana.”

She started crying again. “I can tell you really believe that.” She pulled the quilt over herself and huddled under it, as if trying to shleter herself from him. “Please go, Kakashi. We can talk more in the morning.”

Kakashi reluctantly left her side and retired to the bedroom that was now his alone. He stretched out on the futon and stared at the ceiling, wondering how in just one day his life had gone from perfection to shit. Sakura was at the point of no return—he could sense it. Naruto could have sensed it. He had no doubt that she’d leave him in the morning. Worse still, he couldn’t think of a thing he could do to stop her.

He stared at the ceiling’s imperfections until the light faded from the room. He started as he realized with a pang of guilt that he hadn’t even apologized to her, or offered an explanation for the wide gap between the realization of his love for her and his proclamation of it. He half-rose from his bed, then dropped down again. Difficult as it was, he intended to honor Sakura’s request. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk to him until morning.

Now he just had to get through the night. He didn’t want to read Icha, Icha Teisatsu—in fact, he’d contemplated burning it until he realized it might be one of his only mementos of her. Icha, Icha Takutikusu, Volume 12 was similarly off-limits. It reminded him too much of her. He heard her voice when he read it, her bell-like laugh as she’s poked fun at its various plot holes and her exclamations of shock when they’d reached particularly juicy parts. She’d ruined his favorite hobby, he realized, but he also knew that he would gladly give it up if doing so would fix things between them.

Kakashi closed his eyes and tried to sleep without success. Even meditating didn’t help. He wanted to hold her so badly. He imagined his arms around her, comforting her, taking away the pain he’d caused her, doing whatever it took to prove to her that he loved her. Because he did love her. Despite this horrible day, her several foul moods and near hysterical behavior, he loved her, as he’d never loved another. He allowed himself the dark luxury of imagining his life without her and found himself experiencing, momentarily, the despair he’d heard in her sobs.

It was too much. He switched on the television and rummaged through his belongings for an Icha, Icha film. If nothing else, it would distract him from the inevitable for a couple of hours.

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura lay in bed, completely exhausted, yet unable to sleep. Her room was quite dark. At this time of year in the far north of Fire, the sun still retired early. She guessed it was at least eleven p.m. A breeze had picked up outside. The rustling of the plantings along the inn’s foundation, as well as the occasional sound of a leaf hitting the window were a comforting distraction, though not soothing enough to calm the thoughts that raced through her head. She heard the low murmur of the television in the bedroom next door. Kakashi was watching a movie, she guessed, based on the occasional swell of music she heard. That said something about his level of discomfort, she thought.

She lay in bed until the movie ended, then listened carefully for signs of activity. It was hard to discern any, as a light rain had begun to fall outside, and its constant patter masked sounds that were not loud or intermittent. She closed her eyes and focused instead on her erstwhile lover’s chakra, noting its even, steady flow. He was either asleep or meditating, she surmised. Either way, his powers of detection were at less than one hundred percent. Sakura rose from her bed and quietly dressed in the clothes she’d worn earlier that day. She loaded the backpack she’d carried to the inn the week before, and swore softly as she realized she had no provisions. She slid open her room’s fusuma, and stood motionless as she waited for any response within the room next door. Five minutes passed before she walked the short distance to the bathroom, locking that door behind her, and sat on the tub’s edge as she buckled on her sandals. She then opened the door to the small courtyard outside their suite, and sat in a rain slicked chair for a while as a fine mist beaded her hair and clothes. Satisfied that the copy ninja remained unawakened, she carried the chair to the edge of the courtyard, and used it to assist her in scaling the fence. As a ninja, she shouldn't have needed such an aid, but then again she was operating at less than full efficiency. Sakura poised for a moment, balanced like a cat on the narrow strip of wood that framed the upper edge of the lightweight bamboo fence, then dropped down lightly, and walked into the rainy night.

Chapter 38: Flight

“Sakura!” Kakashi woke up drenched in the cold sweat of a nightmare. This was the first time he’d had that dream outside of the hospital, a sure sign, he realized, of his distress. He still felt the cloying, deadening scent of formaldehyde in his nostrils, and still saw the blood congealed on her wrists, deep maroon against the lifeless alabaster of her skin. Once again it had been Sakura, not his mother, who had been laid out on the cold, stainless steel slab, Sakura whose features were cast into harsh relief by the glare of the single overhead lamp.

Kakashi stood and leaned against the windowsill, forehead to glass, as he tried to clear his head of the vivid imagery of the dream. It still clung to the edges of his consciousness, blending the limits of reality with itself. The glass, Kakashi noticed as the room became more real to him, was clouded with his breath. He wiped the condensation away and peered through the glass. It was raining steadily outside, and still dark, although the sky had lightened slightly to a metallic grey at its easternmost edge. There was no way he’d be getting back to sleep-- he might as well get the day started. Sakura had said she would be willing to talk in the morning, and it was almost dawn, now. He wondered how long it would take for her to rise. There was no way he intended to prod things along—not after the rushed awakening of yesterday and the pursuant cascade of events. Kakashi extended his chakra to examine the quality of her sleep, and realized with a jolt that Sakura was not in the suite. As he rushed down the hall, his stomach clenched. The bathroom door was closed. Locked too, he realized as he shook the doorknob. It deformed in his hand as he forced chakra into it. Lock compromised, Kakashi battered his shoulder against the door and shoved it open.

She’d been despondent last night. The look he’d seen in her eyes was one of complete devastation, a look he had recognized and connected with immediately. He’d felt that way so many times in his life, each time he’d lost someone. He remembered seeing brief flashes of that same look in his mother’s eyes as well, although she had always done her best to hide it.

Kakashi pushed the shower curtains aside, heart in his throat, and offered a urgent plea to a nameless deity. Please, please don’t let this have happened. This was how his mother had taken her life. He’d heard the whispers of his neighbors about the horrible mess she’d left behind, and he himself had seen the results of her self-brutality. This was despite the many layers of gauze that had been wrapped around her cold body’s wrists and ankles in an attempt to hide her wounds from him.

Kakashi heaved a sigh of relief and willed his heart to resume its usual slow and steady beat. The tub was empty, and as sparkling white as it had been the day before. Gone he could deal with, as he could always hunt Sakura down—he had no doubt that he would find her. Dead, though… he would have died, as well, there at her side. And as bloodily.

He noticed the door connecting the bathroom to the patio was ajar, and pushed it open with his foot. Immediately he saw the chair set close to the bamboo fence edging the small space. It was clear this had been her exit route, and it was also clear from the presence of the chair that she still wasn’t feeling up to par. Even wounded ninja didn’t resort to props such as this—it was a matter of principle and pride. This told him a lot. She had been so eager to leave, despite her body’s poor condition, that she was willing to forgo her pride. But her physical state meant she wouldn’t be hard to track. It would be a morning’s work at most, assuming she had left early the prior evening.

But Sakura, despite her occasional feelings of inadequacy, was a proud person, and rightfully so. She had struggled long and hard to refine her talents and grow into the successful kunoichi Kakashi knew. She never took the easy way out, and hadn’t since her epiphany upon Sasuke’s abandonment of Konoha. So why had she been so eager to leave that she’d swallow her pride in this way? Was a drawing of her in a smutty book really that intolerable? Intolerable enough to make her run as though abandoning a burning building? Was it the fact that Kakashi owned the book that he'd seem to sanction her portrayal in this way? Things just didn’t make sense.

Kakashi returned to his bedroom, hastily threw his belongings into the large backpack he had carried from Konoha, then entered the adjacent room where Sakura had spent at least a few hours the night before. The bed was made, he noticed, as though Sakura had been reluctant to leave the chamber maid extra work. He nearly missed the small pile of items that lay in a neat stack upon the dark indigo blue kakebuton, as all of them were black. He picked up the lace-trimmed bra he recognized from their romp in the lingerie store, and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of her, delightfully so.

Her fragrance sparked a reverie. He imagined kissing her, feeling her satin-soft skin against his own, her petal-like lips against his neck, her fine, blushed hair intertwined in his fingers. He breathed her scent and marveled at her quiet beauty and ability to love completely. He marveled that she loved him. Because he’d never been in love, he’d never understood how people seemed to change throughout the course of an infatuation, nor how people who did find real love seemed to settle into each other as their love matured. He’d thought the changes of infatuation superficial, and the more subtle changes of mature love to be dull and confining. He’d therefore never thought it possible that one person might change him as much as Sakura had. What’s more, he had not wanted it to happen—the possibility of losing his autonomy had been frightening. But Sakura had changed him, immeasurably, more than he had realized. These alterations, he now saw, were irrevocable, and he was glad of them. The moment he’d touched her, even sex had evolved for him. It was no longer about release, about satisfying overriding and primitive sexual urges. It was now about showing her what she was to him, about making her feel the ecstasy she induced in him. Their passion, their acting out of their love for each other had crystallized for him an understanding of what life could be. She’d affected the way he viewed the world. Now he saw everything through her eyes, or their eyes. He wasn’t alone anymore, as he’d been for most of his life. He was completed by her, perfected by her love. And for the first time in his life, he considered the future.

But now she was gone. He saw clearly that he was only half a person without her, if even that. He was suffering a gaping wound, as though he’d been mauled by a ravening beast, as though a limb or major organ had been brutally torn away. He was bleeding profusely. This was nothing a tourniquet could staunch, and not something that would heal, even slowly, given time—the piece she’d taken with her was vital. She was vital. Kakashi saw that he wouldn’t be the same until they were reunited as lovers. He might exist, but he wouldn’t live. This was abundantly clear to him.

He smiled slightly as he noticed the feather-trimmed mules she’d set next to the stack of lingerie. He had guessed she had bought the frivolous shoes when he’d seen black feathers poking out of the bag she’d carried. Recognition of that small act had thrilled him. It had showed that not only was she tolerating his sexual playfulness, she was willing to participate, at least a bit, in acting out his fantasies. Apparently, she had second guessed her purchase. She’d thought better of all of this, he realized as he touched each article of clothing she’d left behind. Some were new to him—it seemed that, on a whim, she’d purchased several other items. A short, black silk chemise caught his eye. He shook it out in front of him and regarded it, imagining Sakura filling it out, the thin, near-translucent fabric doing little to hide her small, firm breasts, the cool satiny smoothness of the fabric stirring her nipples to erection. A ripple of arousal passed through him, followed abruptly by the cold slap of reality. It was obvious that after they’d made love in the dressing room, she’d been inspired to buy this. Yet she’d left it behind, a not so subtle rejection of that day and those that followed. How could a simple book have accomplished all of this? Had she been uncertain all along? Were the book and its drawings the tiny grains that tipped the scales against him, giving her the excuse she needed to run away from this commitment?

Kakashi scratched the back of his head as confusion stirred inside him. He’d always been the one to run away before, always been the one to avoid even the merest suggestion of attachment. Hence the mask, the ever present semi-pornographic novel, the penchant for being late-- suggestions to others that he had better places to be, more important things to do and no need to interact with others. It was ironic to be on the receiving end of such actions. His eyes moved next to the low table that flanked the bed, and he saddened as he noticed the pile of wilted bluebells. Their death had been unnecessary. Next to the flowers was the himitsu bako. Here was another sign of her complete rejection of him. Kakashi sighed as he picked up the small treasure and pocketed it. He then gathered the rest of Sakura’s belongings into the smaller pack he’d brought from Snow and readied to leave.

…o…o…o…o…

“I’ll go south. The rest of you, fan out. Pakkun, you’re to head east. Signal me when you find her, but don’t make contact with her, any of you.”

”What’s going on?” Pakkun looked at Kakashi with concern. It was clear this situation was not life threatening, but Kakashi was giving off an unusual mixture of scents—confusion, plus hints of exasperation and anger. Sadness, too. “She’s not sick again, is she?”

”No, she’s not sick. I’ll let you know what’s going on once we find her scent. Do you think you’ll be able to pick it up?” Although the night’s rain had tapered into a fine mist, it was evident that at least a couple of centimeters had fallen overnight. The road leading out of the village was topped with a thick layer of mud, and droplets of water still hung from the clusters of pine needles above them, natural prisms that split the cloud-filtered light into small blazes of color. It was a beautiful morning, really, one of the type Fire produced in abundance. Unfortunately, Kakashi was in no mood to appreciate it.

“Do you have something of hers that we could smell? It would help to have her scent fresh in our minds. I doubt we’ll pick up anything right away, but the rain might have been localized. There’s a good chance one of us will track her scent once we get into new terrain.”

Kakashi rummaged through the smaller pack and pulled out the black lace bra, offering it reluctantly to his longtime team.

“Nice. I take it you bought that for her? It doesn’t quite seem her style. She’s a no-frills kind of girl, isn’t she?” There was no response from the copy ninja. “Why is it in your pack and not hers? Is it a trophy? Something to add to your collection?” Pakkun saw Kakashi’s eye narrow and decided not to share his next comment, one related to underwear fetishes and the collected works of the ero-sennin. This scrap of clothing was obviously a sore point for the copy ninja—the way his body had tensed when Pakkun had joked about it said volumes to the pug. Pakkun’s voice softened a bit from its customary growl. “You’ve had a fight—a serious one, I’m guessing. You humans make things so difficult. Love is simple, really. You find a bitch whose scent drives you crazy, you claim her, she gives you lots of puppies and you live happily ever after. End of story. How hard is that? Instead, you humans quarrel, and blow things--”

“Spare me the editorializing. Just get moving, Pakkun. And the rest of you.” Kakashi frowned at his group of ninken, who seemed surprised by the lead dog’s audacity, and Kakashi’s lack of suitable, dry rejoinder. After a cacophonous chorus of howls and sharp barks, his pack dispersed, and Kakashi headed south.

Most likely, Sakura was headed back to Konoha. If so, she’d probably backtrack over the trail they’d forged. Her first stop would therefore be the mountain town of Otenka where she’d picked up her illness. Kakashi stayed on the ground, foregoing the faster progress he would make if he traveled the canopy. It seemed unlikely to him that Sakura had taken that route, considering her physical condition. Tree running required a constant flow of chakra in order to maintain balance, particularly when branches were slick with moisture. If she were as tired as she seemed, she had little chakra to spare. Kakashi moved quickly, though he tracked carefully as he did so, eyes alert for the smallest disturbance on the forest floor. He saw no evidence of her of her, however. The rain had washed away any footprints, and although his sense of smell was better than even the Inuzukas’, there seemed to be nothing here to pick up on. Moisture-laden ferns rubbed against his lower legs as he hurried through the undergrowth, folding back on themselves as he crushed them in his rush. Kakashi noted no similarly damaged plants in front of him, however. He doubted Sakura would have thought she had the time to move carefully through the forest, particularly on a rain filled night with almost no visibility. Her objective would have been to put distance between herself and Kakashi. She had to know he’d pursue her as soon as he realized she was gone. It was possible, of course, that Sakura’s path ran parallel to the one he was forging, but Kakashi’s gut told him more and more clearly that she hadn’t come this way.

He turned abruptly and headed northeast, on a path to intercept Pakkun. If she wasn’t headed south, she must be headed east. It made sense, now that he considered it. In his run to Snow, a delirious Sakura had said she’d wanted to see the ocean. In fact, he had promised to take her there. He pushed himself to run faster. Between the cherry blossom-filled village of Kawahana and the sea was a danger Sakura did not know of.

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura woke and stretched slowly, careful not to lean out too far from her resting place high above the ground. She was hungry and thirsty, as she hadn’t packed supplies, but she comforted herself with the reminder that at least she wasn’t cold and wet, too. She’d been so, hours before, but after reaching the lee side of the mountain she’d hiked, she found the land to be untouched by damp. She was in a rain shadow, she realized. The very height of the mountain she’d traveled caused the air to cool as it rose along the uplifted land. This, in turn, caused the air’s moisture to condense and precipitate. By the time the air reached this side of the mountain, very little water remained in it. This had made it easy for Sakura to find dry kindling and small branches for a fire, and she quickly treated herself to its luxurious warmth. But not for long. A fire could easily get out of hand in a place as dry as this, so once warm, she’d quickly extinguished the flames with a mound of dirt she’d crushed from a nearby rock. She’d carefully combed over her campsite, making sure it looked as natural and untouched as her surroundings, before finding a suitable tree in which to spend a few hours. Unfortunately, these trees, like those on the western, damp side of the mountain, were also evergreen, though of a different species. Like all evergreens, however, they shared the characteristics of rough bark and sticky sap. . It would be an uncomfortable perch, but it would be a dry resting place, and Sakura had gladly settled into a much needed nap. She’d made good progress in the time she’d been running, she’d thought as she nodded off, although the level of her fatigue surprised her.

She still felt it now, she realized, even after several hours of rest. There was nothing she could do about it, though, apart from finding food and drink. She’d made the right decision in leaving, she told herself, and the fact that she was tired was something she’d need to work through. Sakura jumped from her perch and quickly walked down tree’s immense bole to the forest floor. She’d slept for three hours, she reckoned. It had been almost dawn when she’d finally settled in to nap. Kakashi was probably waking up then, early riser that he was. She wondered what he’d done when he’d realized she was gone. Why did this have to happen?

Sakura’s vision blurred for a moment as she fought back tears. She loved him. She couldn’t deny it, and she knew beyond reason that he loved her, with a passion as true and deep as her own. He was hurting right now, assuming he was awake. Perhaps he was frantic. She understood how he felt, because she felt it, too-- a tremendous pain that almost suffocated her senses, spreading a thick, desolate blackness that blotted out all light. She loved him, and he loved her. It seemed so simple when she said the words to herself. But it was anything but that. Yes, he loved her, but not in a healthy way, not in the way that adults love each other. He was in love with something she had been years ago, a twelve-year-old girl. Contemplating it sent a shiver of disgust through her, which was compounded by the realization that it was as though he had been cuckolding her. But instead of finding another woman in his bed, Sakura had come upon Sakura. He’d been cheating on her, with her, using the present Sakura to make love to the memory of his sexual attraction to the Sakura she no longer was. The thought made her retch, made her fall to her knees as she brought forth acid, then bile.

With nothing left in her system to purge, Sakura stood and started running. She needed to wash out the sour taste in her mouth, and she wanted to wash away the shame that clung to her like filth. The humiliation she felt at the recognition of this deception was worse than she felt upon realizing that Jiraiya was spying on her, and worse, also, than viewing the edited loops of tape her neighbor had made of her private daily activities. She felt dirty. Used. Humiliated. But she still loved him. Despite the fact that he loved another, he had her heart as well. Despite the fact that he had dragged her to a level of humiliation lower than anything she'd ever suffered, she wanted him next to her, holding her.

She ran toward the sound of bubbling water and dropped to her knees when she found its source, splashing water down her throat, then over her face and arms. It tasted sweet and pure and felt refreshing. She felt cleansed of her misery, if only for a while. Sakura rested by the natural spring and considered her actions. Maybe she shouldn’t have left him. Perhaps she’d overreacted. She wanted to think so—it was unbearable to consider her life apart from his.

Was it wrong to be in love with a man who loved someone else? What if that someone no longer existed? Sakura argued with herself. He hadn’t done anything wrong— Kakashi’s attraction to her younger self had been merely that—an attraction. He hadn’t broken any laws, in fact he’d stayed well away from her, most likely to keep from doing so. People (men, that is—she had no idea about women other than herself, as Ino had not been forthcoming on this particular subject as it related to women) harbored all sorts of strange inner fantasies, each connected to sex and pleasure. Did it matter exactly what the fantasy was, if it remained just a fantasy? Was this any different from dressing up as master and servant, or housewife and repairman? Did it really matter if Kakashi imagined another Sakura when he held her and caressed her? It was this Sakura that he loved, wasn’t it?

No.

It did make a difference, Sakura saw, as she headed east again. The difference between fantasy and this situation was that fantasy wasn’t real and never would be. The excitement of role-playing (she was guessing here, although she had no doubt she would have experienced it first hand, soon enough) was precisely that it wasn’t real. It would be thrilling to dominate or submit to another during sex play if doing so was different than real life. It would be exciting because it wasn’t real, and because to do in real life was forbidden. But the younger Sakura was real. She no longer existed, but she had. This was different than dressing up in a school girl’s uniform, and pretending to be something she was not. This was her lover pretending that she was something she once had been. For Kakashi to love her former self was like a man thinking of his deceased first wife while making love to his second. That couldn’t be explained away as a healthy fantasy, because it wasn’t a fantasy at all. It was simply living in the past, at another's expense.

This hurts so much.

She kept running, occasionally noting the slow progress of the sun as it climbed into the sky. Her stomach announced its needs to her clearly. She had hoped to come across some place to find sustenance, if not a village, than perhaps an isolated cottage or shack. She’d seen no signs of human life, however. What’s more, it was still too early in the year for berries, and this side of the mountain had little undergrowth. She’d seen nothing worth eating so far--

You never even asked him.

Sakura stumbled as the thought came to her from nowhere.

Asked him what? When was the last time she had heard from her inner self? She’d grown too strong, too forthright to need her counsel.

If he was into little girls.

It was obvious, baka. I didn’t need to ask—his responses verified everything I had inferred.

That doesn’t mean anything.

Of course it does. There’s no other explanation for his behavior.

No. The words you use don't mean anything. It’s amazing how you can choose words that totally strip your ideas of emotion. You act like you’re a machine, but you love him, you know. How does that figure into your cut and dry equation? Doesn’t he deserve more than this? Aren’t you in this together? But you, alone, made the decision to cut and run. Because you had all the facts. You’re judge and jury. Executioner, too, looks like.

What was I supposed to say? ‘Kakashi, did you want to do me when I was twelve?’

Yes. What did you have to lose?

My dignity. It’s bad enough to think this of him. I couldn’t bear to hear him tell me that.

But maybe he wouldn’t tell you that. Would you give up the best thing in your life just to avoid having your fears confirmed?

I can’t hear him tell me that!

She pushed her thoughts down and kept running.

…o…o…o…o…

Sakura was drenched with sweat by noon, and glad of the cool, westerly breeze that had begun to blow. It carried on it the faint smell of smoke, a smell that Sakura was glad of. Where there was smoke there was indeed fire, but more importantly, humans. Sakura moved more slowly now, checking the sky for signs of a telltale plume. She saw nothing, but soon the smell grew stronger. It was a stale smell however, not the smell of a fresh-burning fire, but the smell of stirred up ashes.

She noticed ruts that could only have been made by heavy wooden wagon wheels, flanked by the quick growing plants that tend to volunteer in disturbed areas. Intrigued, she followed the tracks into a less wooded area. What she saw surprised her. Out here, in the middle of nowhere stood the remains of a long, low, factory-like building. It was merely a burnt-out shell now, its roof collapsed, walls crumbled in several places. There hadn’t just been a fire here. Sakura noticed the tell-tale signs of well-placed explosive tags. A master craftsman had brought down this building-- she could certainly learn a few things about deconstruction from him. Sakura picked her way over a pile of debris to see if she could ascertain the function of this building and why it had been targeted for destruction. If nothing else, she needed a break, not only to rest, but to think about something other than her failed relationship with Kakashi.

Within the remains of the building were several toppled tables, their soapstone tops cracked and split. Rusted iron supports littered the floor, as did piles of thin glass shards and larger hunks of porcelain. Several cracked bottles lay in the assortment of debris, a couple with unscorched labels. Sakura noticed the names of several strong reagents, not normally seen outside a laboratory setting. Just what had been manufactured here, so close to the border with Snow?

A dripping tap affixed to an interior wall reminded Sakura of her thirst. She was tempted to quench her thirst here, but thought better of it, after considering the amount of spilled chemicals that might have leached into the groundwater. She was hungry, too, almost ready to strip bark from the closest tree. Not that there was much nutritive value in the flaky, woody bark of a conifer.

It seemed unlikely that this building was completely isolated. There had to be some community nearby. Even if it was an unfriendly one, they would likely trade with her, particularly if she removed any signs of her status as ninja. Sakura removed her hitae-ate, her shuriken pouch and kunai holder, then carefully unwrapped the bandages around her right thigh and lower legs. With the simple green dress she still wore she looked more like a normal citizen of Fire than an elite jounin. At least, that was what she hoped.

Sakura traced her steps back along the rutted trail, and followed it further. It should lead up to a main road, she figured. She was right. Not ten minutes later, she found herself before a small cottage. Perhaps cottage was too kind a word, she thought as she stowed her gear high in a nearby tree. This building had never seen paint: its board and batten walls were silver with age, and its windows cloudy with grime and dust. It had the air of being lived in recently however, although no one seemed to be about. She wouldn’t need to break in—she grinned as she saw the large pump close to the house. A pail filled with water hung from it, to assist in priming it. She eagerly ran to the pump, lifting its handle high in the air as she poured water down into its spout. It coughed up a sad, brown stream of water at first, but as she pumped more vigorously the stream became clear and cold. She ducked her head to take a long drink, and nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard a low voice behind her.

“I wouldn’t drink that. It’s not potable.”

She turned to see a man of about her own age smiling at her. He was good looking in a non-descript way, the type of person usually described as “cute,” but not “handsome.” His eyes were warm, though, and Sakura immediately felt at ease around him.

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was at home.”

He shrugged off her apology. “If it was any good, you’d be welcome to it. We have a tap inside that connects to a cistern of rain water. That’s what we use for cooking and drinking. You’re welcome to come inside, if you’d like.” He motioned to the small house, then called out in a louder voice, “Rumiko! We’ve got company!” A woman’s face appeared at a grimy window, then at the door. She waved to Sakura, also welcoming her. Her smile was as warm as that of the man who had greeted her, and her eyes as friendly. She was stunningly attractive, though, her features fine and regular, her eyes an unusual shade of light brown, to match the amber tone of her hair. Sakura wondered briefly about the relationship between the two residents of the tiny cottage. She was definitely out of the man’s league, and certainly at least a few years older.

“Come in,” the woman said. “I hope you’ll let us serve you lunch. We have plenty to go round.”

Sakura eagerly accepted the offer, hurrying as fast as Naruto might were Ichiraku to give out free samples. She left her sandals outside the door, and found a seat at the bleached wood table that served as work surface and eating area in the simple building’s small and dingy kitchen.

“We’ve already eaten, but there’s plenty of rice. I’m Rumiko, but I think you’ve guessed that. That’s my husband, Dai, by the way. I’ll bet he forgot to tell you his name, didn’t he?” She winked at Sakura as she dished up a large bowl of rice, which she set before Sakura., along with a cup of green tea. “We finished the miso soup, but it will only take a minute to make more. You don’t mind dashi no moto, do you?”

“No, of course not,” said Sakura between huge mouthfuls of rice. This woman must think her a barbarian. She hadn’t even had the courtesy to mutter, “itadakimasu,” before letting her inner glutton take over. She tried to make up for it now. “Please don’t put yourself to any trouble. The rice is plenty, really, and I greatly appreciate it.”

“The water’s already boiling. This is about as close to convenience food as you can get out here in the country, you know?” She took the pan off the single burner and stirred in the contents of a small packet, then pulled tofu and miso from a small ice chest.

“Mmm hmm. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

”We don’t get a lot of guests, and I’m sorry to say that I get lonely.”

“You’re here full time?” Sakura blushed. From the simple kerosene stove and lack of furnishings, she’d assumed this was some kind of rustic retreat, perhaps a weekend hideaway for rich, eccentric newlyweds. The building wasn’t even electrified, and despite their shabby surroundings Rumiko and Dai had the mannerisms and speech patterns of the very well off.

“Oh, no. Only every now and then. Dai’s hobby is hunting, and this is a great location. Soup’s almost ready.” She stirred the miso into a small amount of the stock, then back into the pan, then ladled a portion of the finished soup into a chipped but serviceable bowl.

Sakura slurped the soup gratefully. Kakashi was right when he’d claimed this as his favorite meal. It was comfort food, plain and simple, and almost impossible to get wrong. Kakashi… Why had she left him? It had seemed so clear only hours before. Now all she knew was that she wanted to be close to him. And she wanted to sleep. Her head felt heavy, all of a sudden.

“You haven’t told me your name, you know.” Rumiko had sat down opposite Sakura, elbow propped against the table and chin in hand. “Or why you’re traveling alone. It’s not safe, you know.”

“I’m Sakura. I left my… husband this morning. My brother lives on the coast. He’ll take me in.”

Rumiko smiled at the groggy, sad young thing that sat across from her. Her innocence was arresting, and would clearly be marketable under different circumstances. “You poor thing. I’ve never placed much stock in love. It’s tied too closely a belief in unerring fate. I believe we make our own fate, don’t you? Although you walking into our lives was clearly a stroke of luck. Dai won’t have to go out tonight. I hate it when he leaves-- he always comes back smelling of sake and cigarettes.” The auburn beauty rose from the table and cleared away Sakura’s empty dinnerware. “Look at my manners. I hadn’t even noticed you’d fallen asleep. Dai?” she called in a voice too loud for someone in the presence of one slumbering. “Dai? Can you help? I can’t carry her by myself.”