Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

The Price of a Portrait and its Privacy	By : c0p13r Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 71 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own naught NARUTO and make no monies.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
ccc
            “Tsuchikage-sama granted us license to sell out here!” Even Iwagakure merchants with zero ninja training were gruff and fierce, not budging an inch to the squadron of Genin sent to handle the issue. He held up the form, and sure enough, it had the stamp of approval from Kurotsuchi’s desk mocking the kids.
            Inojin looked worriedly at his comrades. He was taking point in this mission, but mostly because the other two were so disinterested. “I say just let him sell,” Chocho dismissed casually, inspecting her fingernails. “If he’s bringing rare spices and clothes from Iwagakure, why not?”
            “No one’s buying from him anyway,” concurred Shikadai lazily, slouching and gloomy ever since he had to put down his console to go on this assignment. Ignoring the merchant’s swear at his audacity, he mentioned that the best thing was to leave him alone and let him peddle elsewhere. His lesson would be learned, and there’d be no need enforce the law when the rulebreakers understood that they would not prosper.
            Desperately, Inojin pivoted to his team, waving the scroll handed to him from the Hokage office. “But, Shikadai, your dad gave us this assignment personally!”
            “He’s a hypocrite,” Shikadai said lazily. “The Seventh probably wanted him to do this himself, but he’s too lazy and put it on us. That’s what Mom’s always saying.”
            “I’d do it if the Seventh asked me personally,” swooned Chocho, getting off track with her infatuation with the bold and blonde Hokage.
            Hopeless. Inojin sulked. He wasn’t good with these verbal altercations, and being pretty puny, it was hard to be imposing to a thuggish man of Iwa. No physical altercation was the rule of the D-rank mission. Aside from Chocho, their team had means of body manipulation. Inojin, however, wasn’t so well-versed in the Yamanaka Mind Destruction that he could implant a suggestion that would make this guy turn around and leave peacefully.
            “Now listen!” The merchant had had enough and seized Inojin by his shirt front, effortlessly yanking him off the ground. Shikadai and Chocho shouted, suddenly anxious as their teammate was hoisted from his feet. “You brats have pestered me long enough! Time for you to get outta here before I…!”
            A bandaged hand clamped over his offending wrist, and he turned heedlessly to confront his aggressor. But when he saw the familiar face and shock of spiky yellow hair, he stayed his hand and stowed his temper somewhat. The Hokage was smiling genially at him. “What’s the problem?”
            Chocho fawned immediately, Shikadai lost a relieved smirk, and Inojin stopped flailing. “He’s so cool,” Chocho gushed. “He came to rescue me!”
            Shikadai gave her a sidelong stare. “You’re not the one in danger.”
            The merchant lowered Inojin onto his feet and let go, but his posture didn’t deflate. It was at least enough to make Naruto release his hand. “These brats are interfering with my business! Is this how you treat visitors, Hokage?”
            “You’re a visitor,” said Shikamaru, coming up to back the Hokage, “but you have no right to sell here. Not unless you get the Hokage’s permission first. And you didn’t.”
            “Don’t you think that sounds a little stingy, Shikamaru?” asked Naruto, looking back at him. Shikamaru clicked his tongue and murmured that they could discuss this later.
            “Rules are there so foreign nations can’t take advantage,” Shikamaru told the agitator firmly, but in an even tone. “You should have told them at the gate, and you could have filed…”
            “You Konoha punks! I oughta…!” The man made a stupid move, stepping forward and raising his fist. Only Naruto did not flinch, holding his passive smile as the fist the size of his face launched at him in anger.
            His expression changed to surprise when the fist stopped an inch from his face, though the blowback did ruffle his short hair. Had the man actually had a last-second show of clarity and control? Yet he stood frozen, as if puzzled. Naruto awkwardly leaned his head to one side to peek around the oncoming fist. “You okay?”
            Drool began to form at the man’s clueless mouth. And suddenly – and it made even Naruto flinch, enough to duck behind his arm – the burly man turned spritely; uncharacteristically so given his weatherbeaten face, gruff beard, and deep-set eyes. Those eyes were sparkly now, and it creeped Naruto, Shikamaru, and the kids out. “I oughta go to the nearest flower shop and buy some bouquets for my darling at home!” He bent forward and clutched Naruto’s hand passionately. “Please tell me where I can get some beautiful bouquets!”
            “Why, they’re at the Yamanaka flower shop!” harped an approaching woman. Everyone turned and saw the radiant Yamanaka Ino approaching with that magnificent wag in her step; a wag that was starting to strike Naruto dumb. She strode through the children and stopped in some subtle, glamor pose and pointed one way with her finger. “Just go down the road and then make a right. You’ll find it. My husband is watching over it at the moment. But please, leave your wares behind.”
            “Of course!” The merchant unsaddled himself of the rucksack and let it thud on the ground. With a gracious farewell, he pranced down the street in a way that made the casual passersby confused.
            Naruto was baffled himself.
            “Ino,” sighed Shikamaru in exasperation. “You can’t use that kind of technique on a civilian. Least of all on a foreigner.”
            “Why not? He was causing trouble and would have hurt Naruto if I hadn’t.”
            “I wouldn’t have been hurt,” Naruto said immediately and with perhaps too much denial. He cleared his throat, reining in his emotions. “But Shikamaru is right. You shouldn’t have…”
            “Are you alright, Inojin?” She ignored him to coddle her son, patting his head and telling him that he was very brave. Inojin didn’t think so, being bullied on a D-rank mission. But he did his best and didn’t back down, she reminded him.
            Shikamaru was less encouraging to his son. He gave him a stern look, and Shikadai just dismissed it with a huff of indignation.
            “Naruto♪” she sang as she straightened herself, standing perpendicular to him to twist her body as if to display her curvaceous assets. “How was the ramen? I hope you enjoyed it!”
            “Y-Yeah, it was,” he answered with a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks.
            “Because you did that,” grumbled Shikamaru, “Naruto wants to do his office duties at Ichiraku. Don’t do it again, Ino.”
            “Don’t be such a killjoy.” Ino flagged him off. “It’s no wonder Temari-san looks forward to her visits alone to Sunagakure every month.”
            Shikamaru wrinkled his nose. Shikadai didn’t care; no Mom meant no nagging.
            Unperturbed by Shikamaru’s scowling, Ino bounded to Naruto with bright steps; steps that caused concern when they rippled at her bust and gave Naruto’s watchful gaze the impression that she was without support in her revealing top. Her naked shoulders and open arm holes gave a good dose of imagination to the men who ogled her, and though he hoped to avoid it, he could appreciate the slight spillage of breast meat.
            It was the celibacy! Naruto’s curiosity of women had been fulfilled by Hinata, but the current rut they’d found themselves in was making him more and more appreciative of a woman’s company. Every day, it was Hinata, worn down and apprehensive of the kids’ unpredictable presence, and Shikamaru, who didn’t have the keenness of women that someone like Kiba or Konohamaru had.
            “So you’re going to lunch.” Ino groped Naruto’s arm, clutching it to her body, forcing a smile upon him. “I’ll join you! We can discuss the business over some tea and pudding!” She was already pulling him along.
            “W-Wait a second!” Naruto turned. Ichiraku was to the right, not the left! He didn’t want to drink tea!
            Shikamaru started to say something on Naruto’s behalf, but again, he was met with dismissal. “You won’t be needed, Shikamaru,” she said with motions of her hand to shoo him away. “How about you clean up the office?” She hugged Naruto’s arm, much to his embarrassment when it sunk between her breasts. “It’s getting messy in there.”
            Shikamaru growled, and then turned around, brought out his cigarettes and put one in his mouth. “Troublesome,” the kids heard him grumble as he trudged past them. Maybe it was a dereliction of duty, but how wrong could a tea with Ino go? By the time it was over, Naruto would likely barricade himself in his office to avoid her ranting and raving.
            But the troop of Shikadai, Chocho, and Inojin were paying attention to something else that had happened. Inojin was pretty stupefied by it, it had happened so fast and suddenly. It was Shikadai who said it out loud, “Your mom was acting pretty weird.”
            Chocho was more blunt and seemingly angry about it. “Your mom was totally flirting with my Naruto!”
ccc
            “Do you serve any ramen?” Naruto asked the server with a forlorn smile.
            The woman blinked and looked over to her husband who prepared the food. He couldn’t help but give a helpless shrug of his own. They served treats and tea here, not meals. Even so, this was rare patronage from the Hokage, who seemed to be exclusively contracted to Ichiraku. They couldn’t pass up this opportunity, so the wife forged a weak smile at him. “W-We’ll see what we can do.”
            Naruto’s hopes were just as high as theirs, but he thanked them all the same and returned to Ino. She was resting her chin in her propping palm, smiling at him as they sat at the table together. “You still have an obsession with ramen,” she teased with a playful chuckle.
            Naruto made a face and said, “You knew that when you brought me Ichiraku.” He looked off, lamenting that he could have been comfortable at the bar of Ichiraku, taking care of business while eating ramen.
            Ino giggled some more, which unsettled Naruto. For him, Ino was rarely the ‘giggly’ type. Maybe she’d stoked on him since he got his act together, but they were much too different to be casual friends like this. This was akin to going out with another Kage, a pretense for negotiation. He tried to ease himself and feel casual, eyes wandering across the teashop. The openair restaurant put him in a pretty vulnerable spot; easily accessed to passersby and visible for rumors to start.
            But this was Yamanaka Ino he was sitting across from. Not Sakura-chan. Therein would lie a scandal.
            “How’ve you been lately, Naruto?”
            His sights returned to Ino in a blink. She was watching him intently, but with a sneaky sort of smile, like she was working him out in her mind.
            Naruto quirked his lips and leaned on the table, confronting her joviality with stern authority. As much as he respected his friends, he really couldn’t take a day or even an hour off work to chew the fat with her. “What do you want, Ino?” he asked straight out. “Is this about the art show? I’m considering it”—He pressed a finger down on the table between them—“but I haven’t made a final decision. You saw what’s going on with unlicensed peddlers. I have to handle that before…”
            “Oh, Naruto!” laughed Ino behind a hand, waving off his explanation. “You’re so serious now! Is that because you’re Hokage now, or because of Hinata?”
            His mouth snapped shut, lips drawn in.
            “Not everything has got to be about business.”
            “But you suggested the art show in the first place to attract business to your shop, tebayo.” Naruto didn’t say this with any accusation. Business was business, but she shouldn’t gussy it up.
            “This isn’t about that,” she shot back with a subtle flare of the temper he was more familiar with. Frightening, yet it gave him the ease of familiarity to relax upon. He wound up smiling in spite of himself.
            Sighing, as if resigning the pleasantries, she put her cheek on her fist, bunching up her face in a way that would normally concern her for wrinkles, and stared out to the street. “It’s just… we could all use a break, right?”
            “… Huh?”
            Ino looked back at him, her eyes deadpan. “Is married life all you expected it to be, Naruto?” she asked. “And having kids?”
            Naruto felt his throat clutch. It was everything he’d ever wanted growing up! Yet managing it was entirely different. He expected kids that erupted with joy at the sight of him returning home, a wife who couldn’t wait to embrace him, a job that had people cheering! No one was cheering – but the occasional nods of approval were something – his wife was oftentimes too exhausted to meet his needs, and half of his kids hated him and the other half had a name difficult to pronounce.
            Trying to look at it from Ino’s point of view, Inojin was a pretty good kid, if not a bit softspoken. Sai, well…
            Naruto forced out a chuckle. “I guess Sai’s kinda strange, huh?”
            Ino smiled back sardonically, in on the joke. “He’s not so bad,” she replied honestly and fondly. She certainly didn’t hate him.
            Then she put her hands together, stretching them out with a throaty groan; forward, and then up and then out.
            Naruto watched her.
            She really was strikingly beautiful.
            “But getting what you want,” Ino went on, once again putting her hand beneath her face, this time turned over, fingers drifting and her body leaning askance. She looked provocative like this. “Sometimes, you want a little more, right?”
            Naruto didn’t know what she was talking about, but he only wanted more of two things at the moment: sex and ramen. The latter, he’d take care of at the office since Shikamaru was likely filling his supply now, and the former, he’d figure out with Hinata.
            “Well, no!” lied Naruto, covering up with a great, big smile, putting his hand behind his head. Try as he might, it showed the he was uncomfortable saying it. Maybe it wasn’t a lie; not wholly, anyway. More wishful thinking.
            Ino smirked as if she could read his mind. She could read his mind, he realized and dialed back the intensity of his smile to seem like there wasn’t any need for mind probing. Her smirk lingered for a while, and then she looked unsatisfied with his answer, playing a part of an unconvinced skeptic. “I don’t know, Naruto. Cooped up in that stuffy office with Shikamaru seems pretty boring for a guy like you.”
            “Heh-heh. Well.” Naruto couldn’t come up with an immediate retort to that. It wasn’t an entirely accurate assessment, but there certainly was a lot more sitting and typing and stamping than he would have liked.
            “I remember,” she said with nostalgic fondness, peeping at him as she turned toward the roads, “that you liked getting into trouble.”
            “T-Trou…?” Naruto’s stomach suddenly felt tense. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His pupils dilated somewhat to the response of how Ino was looking at him. That was a salacious glance if he’d ever seen one.
            His groin began to tighten. He felt his member awaken, solidifying against the inside of his bare thigh.
            He swallowed and suppressed his bodily responses best as he could. “A little bit,” he confessed with a choked laugh. “But after Iruka-sensei and Kakashi-sensei locked me up for my Hokage training…! Hm!” He affirmed himself and his fortitude with crossed arms and a jerky nod. “I won’t let what they taught me go to waste.”
            “Oh?” Ino’s face was expressive. “Like what?” She leaned forward interestedly. As he thought of where to start, she led him by asking, “How to control yourself?”
            There was an intense pause between them; he felt it just as surely as she must have. Her line of questioning seemed deliberate now. She wasn’t engaging him so casually after all.
            He cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to take his leave. “I should really be in the office,” he said, contradicting the stroll he was taking to Ichiraku earlier. He thumbed over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t leave Shikamaru at the office…”
            “Well,” Ino soured, “if it’s going to be that way, then go.” She waved him off, looking to the side. “I don’t need to tell you anything then.”
            That was just what he wanted!
            Yet…
            His curiosity was a weakness. His common sense made him turn to leave, but he couldn’t take that defining step away from her. He pulled back, holding on himself. As if she would just let it slip randomly, he waited. Obstinately, she turned her head further from him and pursed her lips tighter together, eyes closed.
            He should leave. He should really, really leave. Instead, his foot turned inward, back to her, resuming his seat. “Tell me what?” His eyes were alight with curiosity and concern.
            “No, you have too much to do to worry about me.” She eased her dismissive posture, but hadn’t opened her eyes or fully faced him. Her hand shooed at him. “Go back to work so Shikamaru won’t be mad.”
            Naruto crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head to one side. Sheesh, Shikamaru’s right. She’s such a bother! “I can’t stay long,” he said out loud, to clarify that he was willing to put her back in his schedule – despite his slapdash way of doing things. “If there’s something I can do…”
            She was unresponsive but for her right eye – closest to him – peeking open.
            He held up his hands, giving to her. “If it’s about the art gallery! If it really means that much, I can permit it…!”
            “It’s about that,” Ino answered, switching back to her open and cheery demeanor.
            Naruto grimaced. It was all an act after all, tebayo. It was insulting for a former prankster to fall for such blatant attempts, but he was so agitated by the situations going on.
            “Well…!” Ino shuffled, looking up, thinking of how to phrase it. She grinned, leaning across the table to him, lifting a finger of exclamation between them. “Sai is the best artist in Konoha! But I think, for his masterpiece, he’ll need some inspiration!”
            “Inspiration?” Was Sai the type to need that? Thinking back on their first mission, Naruto could remember how Sai had left his picture journal unfinished until he remembered how to truly smile. It took inspiration for that. And it was a fond memory, so Naruto chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, I guess he does every now and then! So how can I help?”
            “That’s the thing.” Ino laced her fingers between them, grinning, eyeing him with a fullness she hadn’t before. It seemed like it was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back. So she burst out with girlish laughter, her hand waving again to berate his question. “I guess it’s something that can’t be discussed over a quick meeting like this.” She placed her chin onto the platform of her fingers, lilting her head to one side, eyes twinkling at him. That was an art, to catch the scant light in the shade of the shack and put it to sparkle.
            Naruto tightly pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable if now entirely overwhelmed.
            “I wouldn’t want to think that you’re just allowing the showing as a favor to me,” she cooed softly in a sultry manner that he was very hard-pressed to simply ignore. Instinct told him that now was the time to clear the space between the table and kiss her.
            But she’s not your wife, screamed the conscience inside of him, and he angrily agreed with the sentiment. He needn’t reminding, nor did he need to think of how tired and distracted Hinata had been. Kids, kids, kids, every day. He tried to make time for them, but he also wanted time in bed!
            “So,” Ino interrupted his thoughts. He stared bewilderedly at her. She just smiled back. “What time would be best?”
ccc
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Price of a Portrait and its Privacy