Samui's Service

Tease

~~~Earlier~~~

            Platinum hair chased her stride.  She walked the corridors of the quiet – and temporary – hospital.  The war was over, and now the wounded must lick those wounds.  A wounded heart, however, was not easily treated.

            Ino missed her dad.  An act of swift ruthlessness had left her the head of the Yamanaka clan, and upon her return to Konoha, she would strongly take up the mantel.  Yes, she would miss her father, but she would not grieve; he was too good of a father to let his daughter be left crying.

            So she submerged herself in her work, tending to the injured.  Sasuke, now back in the ranks, had of course been a first stop for her, but upon seeing the love of her childhood life, lost in the arms of Sakura, she felt a certain sense of loss.  No, not for him, not losing him to Sakura.  It was more of the sudden and deep diminish of intrigue.  Sasuke, the bad boy, pretty boy, the boy who stood out in a crowd but didn’t let it go to his head…  It didn’t hold the same appeal to her.  He’d fallen from grace like an angel, lost all potency.  Attractive, maybe, but he now had plenty of competition in the looks category; Sai being the strongest contender.

            Let Forehead Girl have him, she decided; not with spite, but pity.  She closed that door to him, and he might as well have been gone again, safe only as a memory to a little girl interested in status.

            The thought did not linger, though it had distracted her well enough to consider things other than the death of her father.  Shikamaru was in the same boat, but he strode onward without batting an eyelash; Asuma had taught his students well.

            No, Ino wouldn’t succumb to the sadness, so she remained a diligent attendee to the patients.  She might not have been Tsunade’s apprentice, but she got by with closing open injuries and providing the right medication to the ill and poisoned.  She even found herself smiling by this point from how many she had treated, how well they responded, and how nicely they spoke to her.  Ahh~ to be beautiful was such a burden, she mourned while tossing back her bangs.

            It was nearing nighttime, and most patients were soundly asleep, becoming the problem of the ones who could not perform medical ninjutsu but still wanted to be of use.  Therefore, stretching her arms upward and giving a great sigh of self-congratulations, Ino went to the room meant for those attending the patients, the room to bathe, sleep, or simply relax.  As far as she’d been here, that room wasn’t very full most of the time; most medics, when given the chance, would hurry to loved ones and friends.  Ino had lost her dad, her mom was back in Konoha, and her friends were none the worse for the wear.  Therefore, why not get some rest?

            She turned a corner, but then immediately stole back that step.  Someone was fuming, and rare was the person who wanted to stand in the angry Raikage’s way.  “Samui will remain here regardless,” he snapped at his right-hand man – Darui, Ino recalled.  “But she will not be staying with the Kyubi boy!”

            “Is it really better to leave Atsui?” Darui asked dully.  “He’s good in fights, but…”

            “Naruto is strong!” Ay roared back, though Ino could hear that their conversation was growing distant down a different corridor.  “He does not need to be babied!  Samui was meant only to watch over him, not…”  Now their dialogue was beyond earshot, though Ino didn’t want to pry upon this Samui person’s foul-up.  Nope, it was the bed for her, after a nice, hot shower.

            She made it to the office, beaming like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.  And to her surprise, there was someone there; just one other occupant, and she was stepping out of the shower stalls.

            Ino was almost thrown to the wall from the shock of the sight.  A woman, gorgeous and buxom, stood before her, naked and glistening with the aftermath of a shower and precursor to toweling off.  Well, she had the towel, but it was used to dry off her head with polished strokes so as not to ruffle her flaxen locks.

            Ino had only seen such beauty in Tsunade-sama – and, to her own ego, the mirror – but never in glorious nudity.  The woman saw her, but that was it; no consideration, no polite greeting, no second look or false modesty.  Her stride was set, her path determined, her interest her own.  She walked by Ino, her breasts bouncing just slightly, too heavy for a simple step to cause more than an eye-luring wobble.

            As if she were some sort of nobility, Ino stepped aside, giving way to the beauty’s path to her clothes.  The wetness of the woman’s feet was the only noise in the room until even they went silent at the basket.  She dried off as elegantly as she looked; single, downward strokes down her body.  Ino was far too tempted not to watch the towel press and drag against her bust.  One luscious mound dried, then the valley, and then on to the other mound, perky pink nipples taut from the draft.

            Ino knew it was wrong to watch, and that she should just carry on to her own business, but it had been long since she’d partnered.  She once thought a man in her platoon – someone handsome from Iwagakure – would’ve been a suitable partner to distract from the reality of war, but the reality caught up to him before either had a chance to explore where random flirtation would leave.  But that did not mean her eyes had been set solely on men.  After a fleeting meeting of Tenten’s lips in the rare privacy of the Konoha bathhouse, she discovered the intrigue of options.  Tenten was one who needed no choice.

            And because of that eye-opening experience, Ino watched Samui; watched her dry, watched her lean over to the towel-deposit basket, and watched her dress.  If Samui minded, she made no mention or hint of it.  She just shuffled into her clothes – tight fits on charitable curves, and Ino was certain she had not seen a bra in sight – eased her sleek feet into her sandals and made for the exit.  Not even a turnaround smirk…

            Ino, alone now, exhaled like she’d been in the suffocating presence of Uchiha Madara himself.  She touched her chest, not before realizing how strongly her heart was beating.  Again, she recounted that she’d gone too long.  Not that she was about to whip her panties off then and there!  She had both self-control and dignity; if it could possess her at the drop of the hat, she would have act on the impulse before death could have claimed the handsome Iwa boy.

            So she stuck to her first plan: finding a cot and sleeping in it.  She curled up warmly under the thin sheet and snuggled in for a restful sleep.  She didn’t dream, nor did she linger on the precipice of consciousness; it was a sound slumber that wrapped her up in very gentle coils.  If she could sleep like this until it was time to go home, she would never complain again.

            But honed senses of a shinobi stiffened the hairs on the back of her neck.  Regardless, she came awake slowly, big blue eyes uncovered partly, then halfway…  Halfway was all she could manage from the steady sleep.  Looking up, she found the visitor standing above her, and perhaps the dreams that had yet to come had finally arrived.  All at once, she felt her core tighten and expand, her back running hot and her mouth dried out.  All but the ache of her tired eyes led her to believe this dreamlike setup.  She sat up at once, the usual calm poise gone as her body refused to relax.

            “You are of Konohagakure’s mind-manipulating clan; the Yamanaka, correct?”

            Ino was quite surprised that the woman knew of her, but then, she knew the woman as well: Samui of Kumogakure – if the Kumo garb hadn’t given it away already.  Ino straightened more, for though they were of different national origins, in the Allied Forces, Samui outranked her chunin counterpart.  “Yes,” was her answer, and Samui leaned slightly, causing the fishnets of her top to be put to the test.

            “I have a request.”

~~~