Hiasobi | By : dragonflyelj Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1324 -:- 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. |
Tsunade stood over Sasuke’s prone form. The straps holding him down were not necessary. He hadn’t moved a muscle since he had been placed in the hospital bed. His physical health was perfect, reflexes on target, charka flow uninhibited. There was just no reasonable explanation for him failing to wake up. And that was not only a problem for Sasuke, but also for Tsunade.
Tsunade prided herself on being the best medic in the world, and that was due in part to never giving up. So caught up in studying her medical books and researching possible causes, Tsunade even forgot to drink. In times like this, if it weren’t for Shizune, Tsunade would surely starve herself. In Tsunade’s younger years, she had almost done so. But there was nothing quite like the feel of making the impossible possible, of making the incurable curable, and to Tsunade, that made it all worthwhile.
But this problem with Sasuke was just puzzling her. Aside from some recent scars, which had no apparent direct connection with Sasuke’s coma, there was nothing. There was no damage to his brain that could be found. Pulling back an eyelid, Tsunade shone a light in and watched his pupil dilate. Normal response. Pressing his neck, she checked his pulse. A frown marred her features as her mind worked furiously trying to think of some cause for this. It was almost like his body was just… vacant.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Itachi regarded Sakura impassively; hatred curled off her in waves. A cynical smile escaped him. “Why do you hate me so badly? Surely it is not because I kidnapped you.”
“You want me to like you?” she asked incredulously.
“Aah, that doesn’t matter.”
“Then why do you care?”
“I don’t really,” he shrugged, turning away from her.
Sakura saw red. How dare he?
She lunged at him, but he seemed as if he were expecting it.
Itachi sidestepped, and her ire was only further fueled. “You bastard.”
He smirked. The jerk actually smirked, fanning the flames of her anger to dangerous levels. She was beyond rational thought, and it didn’t even occur to her he may have been doing it intentionally.
Sakura came at him again, swinging wildly. He easily avoided, pinning her face first to the wall, her arm held at a painful angle behind her back. Unable to move, she venomously bit out, “I hate you for all that you are and all that you have done. But most of all I hate you for what you have done to Sasuke.”
“So much feeling for such a fool,” he murmured, his breath rustling her hair.
“Don’t badmouth Sasuke!” Sakura raged, pushing against him. He allowed her to turn to face him, her left hand pinned above her head. “You have no right to speak his name! You gave up that right when you slaughtered everyone he cared about. You gave that right up when you walked out of his life! You don’t even know who he is anymore!”
Itachi glared menacingly down at her. His eyes seemed to glow with a feral light. “And you know him so well? Did he confide his secrets to you? Did he ask you to train and help him with his knife throwing techniques? Maybe he asked you on a date?”
That’s it! Inner Sakura raged, get that bastard!
Sakura threw a punch at Itachi’s smug face. Instead of connecting with the hard planes of his jaw, her fist was caught in his calloused grip.
Jade met smoldering red and a battle of wills ensued, neither looking away. Sakura’s fist shook in Itachi’s grip with the force both were exerting in opposite directions. Frustrated that she couldn’t outmuscle him, Sakura spat, “Unhand me, Uchiha.”
Instead of releasing her, he pressed himself against her. “No.”
Sakura’s anger wavered as images of his naked body flashed through her mind. She fought the flustered feeling growing inside her, and tried to remember what she was angry about. There was no doubt that Itachi was a good-looking man (inner Sakura was not letting her forget that particular fact). To make it worse, she could feel all of his hardened muscles pressing against her curves. Oddly, she found herself short of breath.
He released her hands and placed his arms on either side of her against the wall, forming a living cage around her.
Sakura’s heart hammered in her ears, and she felt like a cornered animal. What was he getting at? Her eyes fell to his moving lips, but she couldn’t hear what he said over the roar of blood in her ears.
Itachi read the desire that was clearly written on her face. He lowered his head, bringing his mouth closer to hers. He paused at the small click of the doorknob turning, someone was entering their room.
Both Sakura and Itachi turned their heads towards Kisame as he walked in. Kisame paused for half a second, a look of shock on his face, which quickly changed to a leering grin. He clapped Itachi on his shoulder before wandering past and into the bathroom, dropping his things on the floor as he went.
Reality set in for Sakura and with it, her fury. She began to pummel her fists on Itachi, but only got a few hits in before he pinned her again. He leaned forward, and she froze as he whispered, “we’ll continue this later.” Slowly peeling himself off her, his nose grazed her jaw, causing her stomach to do a flip-flop.
Which part does he mean to continue? There he goes being enigmatic again!
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Three masked shinobi stood in the hall, two on one side of the door, one on the other; all three had their backs pressed against the wall. They wore the standard garb of hunter nin. Each was marked as Konoha hunters by the swirling tattoo visible on each hunter’s bicep, as well as the Konoha symbol engraved into the forehead of each unique mask.
Silence filled the hall as they waited. No sound emanated from the room they watched. As one, they moved. No signal passed between them; none was needed, for they were after all, ANBU. A card, filched from the reception desk, opened the door and they entered the room in a swift, silent movement…
…to find it empty.
Sai pulled off his mask as they investigated the room. A pink hair was found on one of the pillows confirming that Sakura had been there. The coffee was tellingly lukewarm. A frown was hidden as he pulled his mask back down. Sakura doesn’t drink coffee.
Finishing the investigation of the room and finding no other helpful clues, Sai pulled out a scroll and painted two birds. Adding a last stroke, he performed a few quick hand seals and they lifted themselves from the canvas. One would report their findings directly to the Hokage. The other was for Naruto.
Sai was the only thing that prevented Naruto from going ballistic when he found out that it was strictly ANBU on this mission. Naruto had stormed in on the briefing, and Tsunade had informed him that he was needed for another mission. Naruto put up quite a fight, but since he was the only one who knew the exact location and layout of Orochimaru’s lair, Tsunade had finally gotten him to agree to go with a larger squad to recover Orochimaru’s body. Everyone in that briefing room was aware that Orochimaru could have the only clue to healing Sasuke.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Itachi, Kisame, and Sakura had spent little time in the room after Kisame arrived before departing again. Kisame had returned with all the provisions they needed for travel so there would be no stops at any stores. Sakura was given a plain black cloak as well as a straw hat similar to theirs, hanging down for the moment on their backs. They traveled northeast at a fast but easy pace.
There was some light banter between Itachi and Kisame as they went along, but otherwise their trip was uneventful. Sakura began to smell the sea long before she could hear it, and heard it long before she saw it. Toward mid-afternoon, a small costal port town came into view. Sakura’s stomach dropped. She had a stinking suspicion that her chances of getting away were about to diminish greatly.
Both men donned their straw hats outside of the town; Sakura took a hint and did likewise. The town smelled of fish and other nefarious odors too putrid to mention. The buildings were rundown and in need of more than just a fresh coat of paint. Refuse littered the streets, and dirty children with no shoes chased mangy animals. Hardened women with vacant eyes and leathery skin went about various tasks. As they neared the docks, Itachi left Sakura standing with Kisame, a warning squeeze to her arm that would no doubt bruise, but left his meaning unmistakable.
Kisame then led her to a seedy looking open-air tavern nearby. He gestured to one of the stools, and she took a seat. He ordered a drink for each of them, unbuttoning the top of his cloak when the drinks were served.
“Where are we going?” Sakura asked quietly, unbuttoning her top button as well.
Kisame smiled, it was still intimidating to see all those pointed teeth bared when he grinned. “You’ll find that out when we get there.”
Sakura frowned her displeasure at his answer, which only made his smile broader.
When Kisame ordered three drinks for the second round, Sakura wasn’t surprised that Itachi seemed to materialize on the stool on the other side of her.
“We depart on the evening tide,” was all Itachi said about the preparations had made for them to leave the country.
As they ate a light meal, Sakura wracked her brain for a means of escape, wishing she had some of Tsunade’s special powder to pour in their drinks. The only thing she came up with was using charka to stick her feet to the ground. Suddenly the conversation between her companions caught her ears.
“Yes, they try to be discreet about it, but once in awhile there is a screamer. They normally just knock her unconscious and carry her like a sack of rice. But it happens all the time here.”
“What happens all the time?” Sakura interjected, not sure she wanted to know.
Kisame exchanged a glance with Itachi, but Sakura kept her attention on Kisame, waiting. “Women disappearing.”
Sakura’s quick mind fitted the part of the conversation she has already heard in, “What do they do with them?” Sakura couldn’t help but ask, appalled.
“Sell them on the black market, of course - slaves, prostitutes, medical experiments, whatever.”
“That’s horrible!” Sakura exclaimed.
“Yes, but it gives an excellent cover if you give a hard time getting on the ship, doesn’t it? Great plan, Itachi.” Kisame grinned.
Sakura turned her glare from Kisame to Itachi. He was always one step ahead of her.
“You do realize that I am the Hokage’s personal student? It doesn’t matter if we leave the country. If I don’t manage to get away on my own, someone will come for me.”
“Aah, if they can find you.” The barest hint of a smirk was visible around the side of Itachi’s cup.
Sakura crossed her arms over her chest and refused to speak further.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Unable to sleep, Sakura lay awake listening to the sound of ocean lapping against the ship’s hull. They were headed in the general direction of Mist from her best guess, but there were also hundreds of islands that they could be headed to.
The situation had taken a turn for the much more serious now. Not only was this entire area foreign to Sakura, but Fire also had no treaty with Mist at the moment. This meant that there would be no help forthcoming from the ninja there, even if she were able to get away.
The soft sound of Itachi’s breathing didn’t change when she rose from the bunk to look out the porthole. If he woke, he gave no signs, not that she cared. The moonlight reflected brightly off the water presenting a soothing visual, and Sakura drank it in.
Sakura wondered for the thousandth time if Tsunade had been able to heal Sasuke, what kind of reception he had received, and where Naruto was at. She wondered if Naruto was ok, who had been sent after her, as well as what all her friends and family were doing. The same thoughts that had been plaguing her since her capture, which brought her mind back to Itachi.
She turned and glanced at him to see the moonlight glint off his eyes, which were watching her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said lamely.
“Obviously,” he replied.
She sighed, looking back outside.
He sat up, turning on the light, and causing her to glance over her shoulder at him. “Come here,” he ordered softly.
Sakura looked at him hard before finally acquiescing. She stood beside the bed, and he pulled back the blanket, gesturing for her to lie down beside him. She flushed, not liking the implications.
“I think I’ll pass,” she said softly, backing up.
Itachi’s arm snaked out, pulling her down on the bed, a small gasp of surprise escaping her. His eyes shifted to red and began to lazily circle. Nu-uh! You aren’t getting me with that! She screwed her eyes closed.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Helping you sleep. Open your eyes.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Wisely. Now, open your eyes.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea. The last time you used sharingan on me, I woke up with a migraine. I don’t care to repeat that experience.”
“I can think of other things to do in a bed if you don’t want to sleep.”
Sakura’s eyes flew open, and Itachi’s smirking visage faded out as the swirling red and black took over her mind as her vision and faded to black.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Itachi, Sakura and Kisame were alert as presences closed in on them. They had landed earlier on what Sakura assumed to be Mist. The sight of morning breaking had been breathtaking. Light slowly crept over the horizon in a varied brilliance of colors only enhanced by the misty fog, giving them a deeper hue. It was hard to tell where the fog ended and the water began. How they had been able to navigate, let alone dock the ship, was beyond her.
They had traveled at least six hours unmolested, but recently they had all sensed some charka signatures nearby. They continued traveling; Kisame and Itachi appeared relaxed, yet stayed close to one another. They prepared for the attack, which they all knew was coming.
Sakura was slightly off to the side when the fight started. She found herself facing off against several enemies who cared little for the fact that she was a hostage in this situation. That she was in present company with one Hoshigake Kisame - escaped Mist S-Class criminal, made her a target.
The fight was intense. It just figures that all fifteen, no… twenty are highly skilled ninja. Sakura felt lucky (not for the first time in her life) that her hands were her best weapons. She smashed her fist into the man directly in front of her, who was oblivious to her strength, foolishly blocked instead of dodging. One down. Sakura’s inner persona blew on her smoking fists.
He was quickly replaced with two more ninja. She felt a kunai wiz past her ear and her eyes were drawn to the source – Itachi - before glancing behind her at the shinobi he had just targeted. If Itachi hadn’t have done that, she would have sustained a nasty injury. She had no time to contemplate why Itachi had protected her, but if she had, she would have come to the conclusion that she was more useful to him alive for the time being. She dodged a fist aimed at her head by ducking right while kicking left, throwing the second attacker off balance.
A flash of silver gave her barely enough time to draw a knife to deflect a large amount of needle shaped water projectiles flying her way. Sakura winced as one lodged itself in her shoulder. She had been quick enough to avoid a more critical hit to her neck, but it still smarted. She pulled it out, ignoring the shooting pain that ran all the way down to her hand and up her neck; it dissolved in her fingers.
Both of her attackers had recovered and they looked fairly angry. Well it wouldn’t be fun if it was a walk in the park now, would it? She sadistically asked herself, a grim smile graced her lips.
Using a trick from her first lesson as a gennin, she allowed the third Shinobi (who thought she hadn’t noticed him sneaking up on her) to grab her arms, then she used the kawarmi technique to switch places with a nearby log.
Sakura used the momentary confusion to hide herself in the tree branches above the battle. Her eyes were drawn to the masculine forms of Itachi and Kisame as they moved in a deadly dance of perfection. They were back to back, and several ninja were spread around them in a rough circle.
She could not help the feeling of admiration at watching the beauty of their movements. Each move was precise and calculated, flawlessly executed where it would cause the most damage. Their swirling cloaks did not hinder their movements in the least. Both men kicked an enemy at the same time, each leaning the opposite direction so they didn’t hinder the other’s movement. It would almost seem like watching a mirror if it weren’t for the physical differences. Turning in unison, they seemed to actually be dancing as they twisted and turned about each other’s bodies with practiced ease. Kisame took a swipe with Samehada, and Itachi ducked with perfect timing. Kisame covered as Itachi performed a fire technique.
Even Kisame had an allure when fighting. It was not that he was attractive per say, but perhaps more like poetry in motion. Much like with Rock Lee, Kisame was not an attractive person to look at, but breathtaking to watch in a battle.
But it was not Kisame that drew her attention as much as his shorter counterpart. Sakura was transfixed as she watched Itachi’s lethal grace. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation she might have entertained some less than appropriate thoughts about her handsome captor.
A sudden rustle of leaves nearby told her she had overstayed her welcome with needless staring, and she was quickly drawn back into the battle.
There were roughly a dozen enemy nin left when Sakura decided it was time to add a little extra advantage for their side. She wished she had her gloves, which were specially made to prevent her from injuring her hands while she fought. She steeled herself for the pain that would follow as she slammed her fist into the ground, creating a large crater.
Both Kisame and Itachi, having seen her use this technique before, were quick to dodge. But several Mist ninja were not quick enough to avoid the full brunt of her attack. The lucky ones merely lost their footing. While they were avoiding the now treacherous terrain, Kisame and Itachi were quick to take advantage of the distraction Sakura had provided.
Roughly half a dozen enemies were still on their feet. Itachi had a nasty gash, and seeing it as a potential weakness, three closed in on him. It would prove their folly. Sakura fought alongside Kisame, as he squared off with a shinobi in front of him. Sakura reacted, instinctively protecting Kisame by punching the ninja trying to slice him in half. Her fist sent the enemy shinobi into a broken unconscious heap twenty or so feet away. Kisame’s eyes momentarily met hers; he smiled and Sakura acknowledged his grunt of gratitude with a grim nod before the heat of battle diverted both fighters’ attention again.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
The battle had ended; this was one of the parts Sakura hated the most. Today, she hated it worse than ever. Itachi incinerated the dead bodies after they picked them over for anything useful. None were left alive. The smell of their flesh burning was enough to make even a seasoned ninja want to retch. Her only saving grace was that she was not required to help.
Instead, she concentrated on her medic duties. Kisame had a broken rib; when he lifted his shirt for her, she sucked in her breath. She didn’t know if it was the color of his skin that made the bruising look darker, or simply that it was just that bad. Her fingers brushed across his toned abs as she sent her charka in to numb and probe the break. He didn’t make a sound as she set and tightly bandaged his midsection.
Itachi, on the other hand, seemed to want no part of her healing. Whether it was stubborn male pride, or just that he didn’t trust her, she couldn’t tell. Either way, she was getting tired of waiting to heal herself (normally the medic’s wounds come last unless life-threatening). She eyed the cut on his upper arm, which was gaping and still oozing blood from time to time. After another failed attempt to get him to allow her to heal him, she decided that it was ok to heal herself.
Most signs of the battle had been cleared away, and Itachi was still refusing medical attention. Sakura made eye contact with Kisame, gestured to Itachi’s wound, and raised questioning eyebrows. Kisame merely shrugged.
Tired of Itachi’s game, Sakura snatched his arm in a forceful grip, forcing him to show his arm to her. She examined the gash impassively; years of practice had taught her this. “Fool, do you want to die of infection or blood loss?” she bit out at Itachi.
“I can heal it myself when I finish,” was his toneless reply.
Sakura made a noise in the back of her throat. “Suit yourself,” she said, leaning back against a tree.
Sakura watched as he began to treat his wound one-handed. Stubborn, just like Sasuke. She got impatient with seeing the mistakes he was making. It was not that Itachi didn’t know how to treat his own wound, but he would have a scar as well as possible infection if trying to do it all himself. Two hands were really needed to close that gaping of a gash.
Itachi looked up from his ministrations as a shadow fell across his form.
A frown marred Sakura’s features as she stood over him. “You’re not doing it right. It’s going to leave a scar.”
Itachi raised an eyebrow.
She grabbed the antiseptic from next to him, shoving his hand aside, and re-cleansed his wound. Sakura knew that when she applied the disinfectant, it hurt like hell. But he never gave any indication it affected him, just that cool, calm façade. After she was satisfied it was clean, Sakura lightly probed it with charka, feeling around for any foreign objects. Not finding any, she stitched the tear in the arm muscle back together and closed up the skin with small stitches for minimal scarring. She finished it with a neat bandage.
“I may be your captive, but I am first and foremost a medic. Do not insult my skills by trying to do a half-assed patch again,” she demanded.
A small furrow appeared between Itachi’s eyebrows, showing his displeasure. It wasn’t often that people dared chastise him, less often that they lived after doing so. She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by his look, rather quite the opposite; it seemed to inflame her temper worse.
‘He is a lot easier to read than I thought. The similarities between Sasuke and him are almost disturbing sometimes.’
“I didn’t realize you cared so much, Sakura-chan.”
“Be careful you don’t push the wrong buttons Itachi-kun,” she sneered, not realizing her faux pas.
But Itachi was quick on the uptake, his voice took on a husky timbre, “And what buttons would you like me to push, Sakura-chan?”
Realizing that he had twisted her own words against her, and that she had no witty repartee to use, she clamped her mouth shut. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ Inner Sakura yelled. She found herself unable to hide the furious blush that rose on her cheeks as she sent a glare at the chortling Kisame. She climbed into the nearest tree and sat there in a huff until it was time to depart.
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