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Koiuta	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1149 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto does. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Koiuta, Love Song
Ninth Level Of Heaven

Though he said nothing, looked at nothing, Tasha had the distinct feeling that Shino was watching every move she made, as if waiting for her to turn and run. As if he were waiting for the point when he’d have to chase her down.
But she didn’t run, just led at a quick pace, to her apartment. Which, she had to admit, was a disaster area. The most she could do with her things were to keep them in distinct piles -- clothes in one corner, food on the table, towels in the bathroom. And her katana trio, hanging on the wall.
When she shut the door behind him, she had another distinct feeling: of being the sheep who walked into the lion’s den.
She gestured the room, saying, “Welcome.”
Greetings, it seemed, were far from his mind. He snapped, “Why did you leave?”
She leaned back against the door, frowning. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“We were working on solving that problem!”
“And you,” she shot back, “I can’t imagine it really took you eight weeks to find me. It took me less than a week to get here. Care to explain that?”
For a moment, he remained silent. “Tsunade-sama wouldn’t tell me anything. Neither would the guards at the doors. I had no leads.” In a kind of furious move, he yanked his overcoat off and tossed it behind him. Without it, she could see he was sweating, probably horribly uncomfortable from the heat. She wondered why he bothered wearing such layers.
She swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting that from her,” she told him.
“She was waiting,” he explained, “until we had something to show.”
“About the bug problem?”
“It’s not a problem anymore.”
She narrowed her eyes. As far as she was concerned, the bug problem would never go away -- not as long as she could absorb his chakra. Didn’t Tsunade tell him as much? “How do you figure?”
“It’s dead.”
So now there was a dead bug somewhere inside her? She couldn’t hide her shudder. That was a disturbing thought. She only hoped her body had taken care of the corpse right away.
He looked surprised as he continued, “They only live about a week.”
She shook her head. “How kind of you to have told me that before. Oh, wait. . .” she added sarcastically.
He looked away, then back at her. “So, it’s not a problem anymore. You’re coming back with me.”
She tilted her head, gracing him with a skeptical expression. “Really.”
She could almost see him tense, could feel the air around him darken with his mood. “Yes.”
“And I don’t have a choice in this?”
“It was your goddamn doing that caused this whole thing!” he blurted, gesturing wide.
She glared. “I think it’s time I told you why I left in the first place, since Tsunade-sama didn’t.”
“It was the bug,” he said, his tone suggesting his already knew.
“It’s the chakra jewel,” she disagreed. “When we’re close, it absorbs your chakra, too.”
He was taken aback by that, from the looks of it. “You didn’t know it would happen.”
She shook her head again. “No. But then I’ve never had my face so close to someone else before. And certainly no one who could threaten my life just by being there -- this is the weirdest situation ever,” she added to herself. Because of the chakra jewel, she could absorb others’ chakra as well as her own. Because of Shino’s bugs and how they were linked to his chakra, she could draw them to her against her will. And because the bugs themselves fed on chakra, someone who wasn’t born with them might very well die from the experience.
After all, once your body runs out of chakra, you die. No exceptions.
She’d thought long and hard about it before. Eventually, it led to one very big epiphany -- her father had lied to her all these years. The jewel wasn’t solely for her bloodline. Which begged the question: if her father had lied about the jewel for her entire life, what else could he be lying about? She was glad to have left him, but now she lacked the ability to gain any answers from him.
She noticed, then, that Shino was staring at the floor, deep in thought. Hands in pants pockets instead of the coat’s, he looked casual, if not for the crease on his brow. One hand was jingling something metallic in the right pocket. She wondered if that was a nervous habit of his that she’d never noticed.
She felt apologetic, she really did. After all, she had known she would be torn to bits by forcing herself to leave, but she’d never stopped to think it would be as terrible on him. No, it had to have been worse; she had all the answers, all the reasons, and he didn’t. She hadn’t told him anything, left no note -- though it had been a surprise to find that even Tsunade held her tongue on the matter. It probably had driven him insane, not knowing why she’d left or where to start searching for the answers.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “About this whole thing. I had no idea any of this would happen -- I don’t mean to make excuses,” she added, realizing that’s what it sounded like. It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t do it, don’t blame me. “I’m just sorry.”
“You said you loved me,” he replied quietly, and she cringed at the betrayal in his tone.
“I do.”
He seemed to think on it. Eventually, he said, “I don’t think you know how much that meant to me. From you, I mean,” he clarified. He took his hand from a pocket to take off his sunglasses, looking at her. “Most people are disgusted by my clan. It’s something I had to grow up with, knowing that.”
She brought her brows together in confusion. What was he getting at?
“I thought you were beautiful from the first time I saw you,” he told her. “But I was worried, for a long time. About the bugs, about how you would feel. It was such a relief when you told me you loved me, when you accepted me.” His face grew pained. “And then you left, without a word.”
No more than halfway through his speech, her heart had started to ache again. Now, at the end, the pain was stifling. She clutched her fist to her chest, knowing it would do no good but needing to do it anyway. She regretted that she’d left, that she’d had to, even. She might even regret her decisions that led to this point, starting with her sensei and abandonment of her home country. The problem was the weight of the issue -- was the pain she felt now truly worth the few days of euphoric love she’d felt with him?
Would those days of love hold the same weight years from now, having felt this pain every waking minute?
“It shattered me to do it,” she said now, trying to make the words sound like a promise. She didn’t want him to doubt, for a second, that she wouldn’t agonize forever for what she’d done. “But it was still. . .” she shrugged, “the best choice. Everything else was totally unbearable.”
He held her gaze, silent, as she’d spoken. It was like he was searching for something in her eyes -- something he must have failed to find, because his gaze dropped. It made her already-screaming heart only hurt worse, as though acid were now a part of the equation.
He took a step closer, drawing his hidden hand from his pocket. It was fisted. For a moment she feared rage was going to get the best of him, that he would beat her as a way to relieve his own pain. But instead, he took her hand and placed something in it. He didn’t step back again, so she looked down.
Her open palm was now bearing a necklace and pendant. Carefully, curiously, she picked it up to see it better. It was a gold link of three separate chains, brought together at the clasps and pendant. The pendant was a butterfly, both wings blue near the body and fading to violet at the edges. It was lovely.
But it wasn’t the loveliness that brought tears to her eyes -- it was the object itself. She’d never received a gift before, or not anything that meant something beyond ‘good job, daughter’. A memory resurfaced, from a time that felt so very long ago, of her standing in his room. Of a cage with a butterfly in it. Of her fascination with its beauty, its energy.
She grimaced on a smile, agony streaking through her. When had he gotten this? Had it been that same day. . ?
It sounded so much worse in her own head that way.
“This. . ?” was all she could say, looking up at him.
This close, holding her gaze, he looked in control of himself, but the worry lines on his face told a different story. She read them, between the lines as it were, and concluded he must be in the same plane of despair as her.
“I sought out my father, first thing,” he explained. His voice sounded rougher, though she couldn’t think why. “I told him we were going to have to redouble our efforts, that I couldn’t keep apart from you.”
When he paused, words fell from her mouth. “What did he say?”
His fingers trailed up her arm to her shoulder and back again as he answered. “He told me to go to town, to cool my head for a while. Visit the shops, talk with Kiba; anything that would keep me distracted for a while.” She swallowed then, realizing how close she’d come to passing him on the street and having to explain herself. “I found a jewelry shop. It made me think of your jewel. I was curious, to see if they had any gems that matched its color. So I went inside, and found this.” His eyes fell on the pendant, briefly, before he went on.
“You seemed to like butterflies, so I got it. I was making plans as I came back to the clan -- corny plans, stupid plans,” he added to himself, “-- of presenting it and saying how I loved you.” A shudder went through her at what she’d missed. “But you weren’t there. I panicked,” he laughed to himself. “I went to see my father, to see if he’d done anything with you. No one knew where you were. Then one lady told me you’d gone to see Tsunade-sama.”
It took effort, a lot of it, to hold back the sobs clawing at her throat. Every second with him was growing more tortuous, especially so while he spoke. Especially while he spoke this story. Especially with that pain in his eyes. Lord above, what had her foolish plan done to him?
“She wouldn’t tell me anything, besides that you’d left for your own good. Without the intention of coming back.” He shook his head. “She encouraged me, though. Said you really loved me, that she felt for our situation. But that she wouldn’t let you come back into danger -- that I had to be able to prove you weren’t in danger with me.” He paused. “I wonder if she thought I knew the whole situation, and that’s why she didn’t tell me the jewel was at the center of it.” Almost to prove to himself it still existed, he lifted his hand, touching it lightly with a fingertip. It made her eye close reflexively.
She pushed his hand away. She could already feel the chakra being pulled from him; she didn’t need this again. They were too close as it was, the proximity allowing for a slow, sure stream of chakra to be siphoned into her jewel. She shouldn’t be allowing them to be this close.
But his warmth, it felt so heavenly. How had she ever gone without it for eight weeks?
“You shouldn’t touch it,” she said quietly, surprised she had enough of her voice to say anything at all.
It was such an easy movement and he caught her hand. For a long moment neither of them moved, nor spoke, nor breathed deep breaths. They were just staring, one of her hands clutching the necklace, the other held tight in his hand. She missed him so much -- but was it really worth it? She’d been trying to sew the remnants of her life into something livable for eight weeks. Could she really let herself be swayed by him now?
What are you thinking, something livable? her mind retorted. He’d torn that all down in a second.
She hated that inner voice, the severity with which it spoke. But, damn it, it was right. Even if the encounter ended and -- gods forbid -- they went their separate ways once more, she’d never be able to live here again. The messy, cold room that had been her home for two months would forever remind her of him, a harsh reality she couldn’t survive remembering.
It was this same knowledge that forced her to leave Fire Country. And now it would force her to leave Water Country.
When he leaned in to kiss her, she knew she had to stop this -- or break. “Don’t,” she whispered, the word wavering, fragile.
He hesitated, then said, “Stop me.”
Impossible.
She closed her eyes. With it, a tear fell, because with it, her resistance ended. That simple, two-worded challenge was too much for her. All the clumsy walls she’d been trying to build around her were nothing more than mist before him. Not solid, not an obstacle, not even something he’d have to step over -- hardly a shroud. Would she always be so bare before him?
What a stupid question, she thought as their lips met. You know your weakness.
She lifted her arms, winding them around his neck, kissing more firmly. Her heart was going wild in her chest, starting a shaking in her body. She didn’t understand her reactions to him -- never had -- and had a moment of premonition, as if she knew what was about to happen. But it was nothing more than a feeling: despair.
When she felt his arms go around her, pulling her closer, she could take no more. Guilt was tearing her apart, now knowing what her disappearance had done to him. Sweet love was trying to battle it within her, healing the wounds. Every other emotion she’d ever felt were running rampant, throwing her mind into chaos. She couldn’t think clearly -- senses on him, but her mind infinitely further away.
With a kind of choked sob, she collapsed, clutching at her heart with both hands.
She must have caught him by surprise with that maneuver, she realized. She heard him say her name, take a step back. And then his hands were on her, trying to get her to sit up. But she was crying now, and it was an epiphany: she hadn’t cried. She would’ve thought she would, having been apart from him for eight weeks. Yet she hadn’t, until now, when she was back with him.
And she realized the reason behind the lack of tears was because, quite simply, depression and despair, so strong, were preventing it. With him back, she could feel again, clearly. All of the agony and loneliness she should have been feeling all this time were returning, rushing back in one incredibly painful moment.
She cried, slowly becoming less and less aware, until it was just the pain, the relief, and the necklace still held tight in her hand. She focused on that, her gift from him, trying to turn all her senses to it. It was real, it was solid; it was proof.
Proof that he was back, that he loved her, that he’d found her. Her hand was throbbing from the steady pressure of her grip, but she refused to let go. Even when she realized her palm was wet -- with sweat, with blood, with tears; she wasn’t sure -- she kept holding on. Because if she let go, maybe all this would be nothing more than a dream.
A dream that would kill her, she admitted.
But still only a dream.
She must have fallen asleep, she realized, as she opened her eyes. There was no sunlight in the window. If not for faint reflections, there was no light at all. She was warm, relaxed, and -- changed? Her clothes felt looser. She was wearing her pajamas, a set she bought for the simple act of fitting her acting role, shirt and pants.
Her pillow was breathing.
She sat up quickly, staring down at what she already knew she’d find: Shino. He was laying out flat, one arm thrown over his head, the other on her hip, having fallen from her back when she sat up. Though it was dark, only showing shades of grey, she could tell his chest was bare, and she knew that he looked up at her.
And then he smiled. “Feel better?”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Her thoughts hadn’t returned yet. They seemed to still be recoiling from this recent discovery. For one long moment, she couldn’t figure out why this scene felt foreign; she loved him, after all. It was only logical she’d wake up in his bed.
No -- not his bed, her mind shot back. She was in her own bed. In Water Country.
Her jewel.
She reached a hand up to touch it, swearing in her mind. She’d left him to keep that jewel away from him, to keep it from absorbing his chakra, to keep the bugs from confusing them -- and she’d been asleep, for hours, on his chest?
On his -- on his naked chest?
Her eyes glued too him. Good god, she loved those muscles. Her fingers were already starting to twitch with the urge to touch him.
He moved to sit up, keeping an arm around her. “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. “I’ve been keeping everything under control.”
She shook her head, not to disagree, but at the situation as a whole. “And how long do you think you can keep that up?” she asked, honestly wanting to know.
When she looked up, his face was solemn. He wasn’t answering, and she had to assume he didn’t know.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, hardly a breath. She lowered her head.
He leaned closer, held her to him. His words were just as quiet, as though speaking too loud would ruin everything. “I couldn’t leave you. Not while you were crying.”
She couldn’t help but melt into him. Like two magnets, she was drawn to him. She almost laughed at the next analogy to come to mind: like a moth to a flame. She the moth, he the flame, and the end result as lethal. She shouldn’t even be within a meter of him -- not just to keep ample distance, but also to fight off the pulls of temptation.
When she went to hug him back, she opened her fisted left hand -- and hissed in pain. Drawing back, she found with surprise that her palm had been bleeding from the necklace. There was an odd-shaped, thick scab on it, the necklace stuck to it in two places, hanging. It was grotesque, in a way.
She huffed at it. Because she knew to get it fixed without hurting herself would require getting up and going over to the sink. Stepping away from Shino. It was a stupid, illogical thought on her part; she should be thrilled at the idea of having a reason to keep a distance from him. Even if only briefly.
It seemed he had a solution that didn’t cross either of her thought trains. He caught up her palm and attached his mouth to it, licking and sucking to try and loosen the scab.
She shuddered, not just because the move was sweet, but because she could feel those licks -- elsewhere. It was erotic, making her body throb for him. As he kept this up, slowly but surely achieving his goal, she found it increasingly hard to sit still. If nothing else, she had no control over the occasional twitch from one of her legs.
She had to wonder if he was oblivious to this. She banished the thought as soon as it surfaced; of course he knew. This was Shino, after all, the only person she knew who could read into her feelings without any hints from her. Which begged the question: was this means to an end, for him? Was he planning on making love to her again, and this was just a way to make her open to the idea?
Like it would take such work on his part. She was defenseless to him, utterly under his control. If he had caught her that day she’d left and told her to stay, she would have. Hell, if he had told her to strip down naked right there in the street, regardless of the reason, she probably would have done it.
She gasped, not sure why. The necklace fell from the scab, released, as it were. It left behind a pleasant feeling, which was quickly replaced as he kept stroking her palm with his tongue.
She whimpered. This was driving her crazy. “H-hand back,” she managed, tugging on it. “I think that’s enough.” Good lord, was that her voice, so breathless?
He let go, looking back at her. He said, “Tasha, I never got to say this before. I love you.”
She shivered.
“And you love me, don’t you?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Say it.”
Such a calm, quiet order it was, but the compulsion to obey was overwhelming. “I love you,” she said.
He had both of his arms around her now. “Say it again,” he told her, leaning close.
She bit her lip. “I love you.”
She thought he shivered, so close now that she could feel his breath. “Again,” he ordered.
“I love you.”
“And my name.”
“I love you, Shino.”
“Again.”
“I love you, Shino.” Her voice was wavering now, growing more quiet with each time she spoke. What was he doing, having her repeat this over and over? What was he thinking?
“Say it again.” His voice, too, was growing increasingly quiet. Just as he was leaning marginally closer with each second.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She was shaking, though the reason why eluded her.
“Say it again,” he repeated, the order stronger.
“I love you, Shino,” she managed, almost strangled the words out. A whimper followed it.
“Then don’t you ever leave me again,” he growled, punctuating the words with a kiss. Fierce, demanding, yet somehow gentle enough to coax; she was drawn in and trapped in less than a second.
Like she could have ever fought him off in the first place. No, now her analogies pictured him as a spider on an intricate, impossibly strong web, and she a butterfly, caught there. But this spider didn’t want to eat her, just keep her there.
It was strange, how she loved him so much, and yet her mind kept coming up with comparisons that would lead her part to the same unhappy, even lethal endings. And yet, eight weeks without him had been much, much worse.
She wondered if her imaginations would turn brighter once the jewel was no longer a threat. She wondered if she would always feel trapped under his power, loved and cared for, even if the jewel had never factored in. She wondered if she would ever gain some of that power for herself -- or, could it be? Did she have that same power over him, and had never realized it? Was it her power that made him search for her after she’d left?
What a thrilling thought. The two of them, equally powerful and equally caught.
He leaned her further back on the bed -- backwards, she might add -- until she was out flat. Mouths devouring each other, she had one more thought, before all thinking would be impossible: did he really have enough control over the insects to eliminate the threat?
She supposed she would find out before the night was over.
And it was, truly, the best night of her life. So far.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Koiuta