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Silver Lining

By: cynchick
folder Naruto › Het - Male/Female
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 15
Views: 6,835
Reviews: 110
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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.
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Breaking Point

More fanart is linked on my FFN profile and Deviant Art, another one by me and one by the awesome Eriko-Ivanov, who also did a few pieces for Perception. Also, if anyone else feels inspired to create art from this story, it will be most welcome and appreciated! Just send me a message with the link and I will put it up on my profile for all the readers to enjoy. :D

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Chapter Six: Breaking Point
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Sakura woke to the feel of Deidara shifting and pulling her closer against his warm chest, the arm tucked around her ribs tightening slightly. His sigh fanned warmly over her skin, and the feel of his nose nuzzling the back of her neck brought a sleepy smile to her face, followed immediately by the gut-wrenching recollection of last night and the onslaught of a killer headache from her binge.

The first thing her panicking mind searched for was the confirmation that her clothes were still on, though she could feel Deidara’s shirt was off. She scrambled for pieces of memory and tried to string them together into a coherent sequence of events. Last night was hazy at best, but the two things that stood out quite clearly were that she had acted like a fool during their operation, and that Deidara was the most amazing kisser in existence.

Both of those realizations made her want to groan loudly and curl into ball for very different reasons.

Using every stealthy little skill her hung-over body could manage, she actually succeeded in inching her way out of bed without waking him and silently stole into the bathroom to shower, dress, and wallow in her misery in private.

Deidara found her some time later on the patio looking out at the morning ocean. She was wearing a short, sleeveless white dress that hugged her figure nicely before flaring at the hips, and his eyes ran appreciatively down her bare shapely legs as he approached. He stopped behind her and placed his hands on her hips, pressing his nose to the top of her shoulder above her neckline. “Hey,” he murmured against her skin.

She closed her eyes and relaxed and for a second it seemed like she was going to lean back into him, but then she stiffened and shifted her shoulder ever so slightly away from his lips.

He got the hint and backed away with a frustrated look. So they were back there again. He didn’t know what was with her but it was getting harder and harder to put up with, especially since she wouldn’t talk about whatever it was. She was moody and depressive and it was more than a little annoying.

Sakura took a deep breath and turned halfway to face him, but didn’t look him in the eye. “I apologize for my behavior last night, it was completely unprofessional of me, and my actions complicated our task and could have ruined our mission completely. I’m sorry,” her voice was quiet but unmistakably stiff, and there was a tense set to her posture.

He gave her a long look, far more upset with her behavior this morning than he was about last night, though he was still ticked about that too. “It doesn’t matter anymore, yeah. We did what we needed to do. You’re an obnoxious drunk but-”

She cut him off. “It does matter. There was no excuse for me to get drunk when I knew we had a job to do. A shinobi should always remain in control -”

“Don’t quote the rulebook at me,” he interrupted derisively. “Yeah, you made things difficult, not to mention annoying. But you’re allowed to be human, sometimes.”

She looked up at him and her features softened for a moment, but then she gave a short cynical laugh and crossed her arms and looked out at the shore again. He reached out to hold her arm and her eyes closed as his thumb softly stroked up and down her shoulder. She took a deep breath. “Last night was a mistake,” she said quietly without opening her eyes.

She expected to feel his hand drop away but instead it tightened, and she opened her eyes to meet his piercing stare. “No it wasn’t. You weren’t that drunk Sakura, and I’m not stupid, so don’t try to play it off like that. You wanted -”

Her expression hardened and she gently pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Let’s just forget it, ok?”

His eyes narrowed angrily. “Why do you have to be so fucking difficult, hmm? I wish you would just tell me what the hell’s bothering you.”

She glared. “I told you to drop it. There’s nothing wrong -”

“Stop fucking lying to me! Or maybe it’s yourself you’re lying to, hmm?” he snapped.

“I’m done talking about this,” she said angrily, and walked away into the room. “I’m going out. I need some time alone,” she said curtly as she grabbed one of the keycards from the table and headed for the door.

“Sakura!” he called after her, but the only reply was the sound of the front door slamming. He growled and gripped the railing until his knuckles turned white. The sky was overcast and dark on the horizon. A storm was rolling in off the ocean and he could already feel the air turning thick with humidity.

He walked back into the room and flopped onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. He was so frustrated and so goddamn angry with her. How was it that she had such an affect on him that no one else ever had? Not the anger part, he could get pissed at anyone pretty easily, but the rest of it. He’d never before felt compelled to do and say the things he did around Sakura, things like tender touches and wanting to wake up with her in his arms, things he had never given much credit to he found himself doing with her and wishing she would let him do more, even though she kept denying what was between them. For some reason it had always been different with her, since the day they met.

She had that effect on everyone in varying degrees. He still remembered how she’d managed to wrap them all around her finger and bring them into some sort of grudging dysfunctional family. He and his fellow Akatsuki had been the ones to take her captive, but in the end she had captured them, even the cold and uncaring Uchiha. As much as he’d hated the guy, he knew the bastard had truly cared for her in whatever way his shriveled heart could, and she’d even managed to bring something out in Uchiha that made him almost tolerable before the end. Tobi had been completely smitten with her, and Kisame had fallen victim to her charm as well.

And as for himself...he’d often thought about her over the years, and now that she was back in his life his feelings for her were starting to freak him out, because they were deeper and more encompassing than he’d ever realized. She made him second guess his very nature; things he never thought he would want…he was starting to think about. She seemed to be the one exception to all of the rules and ideals he had about himself. She was the only person who’d ever been able to back him out of a fight. She was the only person he’d ever trusted enough to open up about his past to. She was the only person he would put himself at risk for, either physically or emotionally. She was the only woman he’d ever wanted for more than one night. He wanted her so damn bad, but he respected her too much to press her. He was not a sensitive or patient man, but he found himself trying for her because he didn’t want to scare her away or hurt her more than she already had been.

And he knew that was her problem; she was scared. Sakura held a great deal of love in her heart; that was her magic, the key to her strength and also the source of her weakness. He knew from the way she’d talked about them that she had loved her friends and especially her teammates very much, and it was losing them one after another in such a sort span of time that undoubtedly caused this deep sorrow she was so insistent on remaining in. But even though she wasn’t as open as she used to be, she was able to let go and be happy and have fun with increasing frequency since they’d met again. It was only when something went beyond the line of friendship that she shut down. She didn’t seem as reluctant to be friends with him as she was to be more than that.

He’d had enough of guessing and second guessing about her. If she wasn’t going to talk to him and tell him what she’d been through then he would just have to find out for himself, because he couldn’t deal with her anymore if he didn’t know what was troubling her so much.

Confident that she wouldn’t be coming back for quite a while he got up and walked into the bedroom, located her backpack and sat down on the bed with it. He was aware he was disrespecting her privacy, but he was a shinobi and no one had ever accused him of being morally righteous, and he needed to know what was wrong with her if he was going to help her. It was for her own damn good.

He unsnapped the small pouch in the front first, but found only exploding tags and wires. Next he opened the main flap, pulled the drawstring and looked inside. He removed her gloves and apron and set them on the bed, followed by extra sets of standard issue kunai and shuriken. She didn’t have much that wasn’t ninja equipment, just like him. He removed several scrolls; most of them medical by the look, then he noticed one in an inner side pocket that was unique. He pulled it out and saw that it was very old, so he opened it carefully. It was a summoning scroll. The most recent name on it was Sakura’s, obviously. The one behind hers was Uzumaki Naruto. He must have given it over to her before he died, perhaps as a precaution for just that. But this wasn’t the scroll of the Toad King that the sixth Hokage had been famous for going into battle with; the scrolls of the greater summons were huge, but this one would easily fit into a vest pocket. The next name was scrawled almost illegibly, but he managed to make it out: Hatake Kakashi. The rest of the names dating back until they were so old he couldn’t read them were also Hatake, and he realized it was the scroll of the ninken the Copy Ninja and the White Fang before him had been known to use.

He carefully rolled it back up and set it aside, and then peered into another inner pocket. Inside was a small lacquered jewelry box painted with cherry blossoms. He smirked at the design; Sakura had probably been given dozens of things with her namesake as a theme over the years. The first piece he took out was a pendant necklace; a cylinder-shaped crystal with smaller jewels on each side. His eyes widened slightly at the next item, because he recognized it and it surprised the hell out of him. It was Itachi’s necklace. Uchiha must have cared for her a good deal more than they’d all thought if he’d given her this, and she for him if she still had it. Apparently there had been depths to that man none of them had ever known about. The last item was a delicate silver chain bracelet with a small dangling cherry blossom. The first two had fairly obviously belonged to someone else and she kept them for sentimental reasons. But the bracelet was definitely hers and it was important enough to bring with her when she left her old life behind. He put the little box back in the pouch he’d found it in and moved on to the last of the inner pockets.

Inside was a pocket-sized photo album that only held a dozen or so pictures. Now he was getting somewhere. He flipped it open. The first picture was an old photo of Sakura and her infamous teammates, when they were genin, by the look of it. Sakura was only a little girl here, looking happy and carefree with hair to her waist, just as she’d said. He smirked and flipped the page. The next several photos were years later than the first, mostly of Sakura and a combination of her teammates, including the ink artist and the tall man he remembered from her rescue party. He grinned at a picture of her and her team looking dirty and beat up yet triumphant and proudly sporting their brand new jounin vests. Next was a silly picture of her and Naruto eating ramen and making faces at the camera. Then it was a photo of Sakura and a blonde woman striking feminine poses. He stared at the attractive blonde making a kiss-face at the camera and felt slightly disturbed because he remembered Sakura talking about her and they did wear their hair almost the same.

The next photo was of Naruto’s wedding to a very striking Hyuuga woman. Sakura was standing by herself in the picture and damn did she look gorgeous in that long violet dress. She was around the same age as when he’d last seen her, and in the next photo too. It was another wedding photo, only this time it was the younger Uchiha’s wedding, and he had also married a pretty Hyuuga girl. He stared at Sakura for a moment, again looking stunning in another long dress of deep sapphire blue, and then flipped to the next. It was of Sakura, Naruto and Sasuke, and each man was holding what were obviously their respective sons in their arms. The boy Naruto held had dark blond hair and the Byakugan, but the other boy was a dead ringer for Sasuke including the dark eyes even though he was half Hyuuga, meaning that boy would probably have some superfreak version of the Sharingan someday.

There were only a few photos left in the album and he was starting to think he wasn’t going to learn anything more from it when he flipped to the next picture and his jaw dropped. Sakura was standing in a loving embrace with none other than the Copy Ninja, Kakashi. The picture had been taken candidly without their knowledge because they were too busy gazing adoringly at each other. The last of the photos in the album were all of the two of them; Sakura on Hatake’s lap at the diner prominent in many of the pictures, then a picture taken by Sakura as she posed next to him with her head on his shoulder, and even one of her kissing him through the mask he’d always worn. At the very back of the album was a folded piece of sketch paper. He opened it and saw it was a sketch of Sakura and a maskless Kakashi sleeping against a tree, and it was signed by the ink artist, Sai.

There was the answer. She’d been in love with one of her teammates, and when he’d died the grief had no doubt been staggering and doubly painful, and now she was afraid of it happening again and as a result wouldn’t get close to anyone.

He put the album back in its place and looked at the contents in the bottom of the bag. There was her hitai-ate, and he removed it before reaching for the last item in the pack. His pulse quickened the moment he touched it and began to pull it out. He would know that weight and feel anywhere, because it had been like a second skin to him for years. Unfolded in his lap was an Akatsuki cloak, devoid of the signature red clouds and lining. The one he had given her. She’d kept it all these years, despite what it was and what it symbolized, despite everything that had happened, because it had been from him. Out of curiosity he felt inside the inner pocket and was surprised to find there was actually something in there. His eyes widened when he saw it was the note he’d written when he’d given it to her. He couldn’t believe she’d kept that. His heart wrenched with the knowledge that she really had cared about him and had wanted to remember him, had maybe even missed him. He also felt like an asshole for what he’d said earlier and for trying to force her to come clean with him. Sakura had given her love to so many people, and the poor girl’s life and heart had been ripped to shreds by a pointless war and the ambitions of a few idealistic madmen. He was surprised she didn’t despise him for his part in it.

He carefully placed all of her belongings back into her bag in the exact way he’d found them and returned it to where she’d set it on the floor, then went back to the bed and lay down with a tired sigh, tucking his arms behind his head.

He understood now, he really did, but she had to let it go. She had to move on with her life or she would continue to spiral downward until her grief wound up killing her somehow. She clearly thought she had nothing left to live for, but he would find a way to make her see otherwise.

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Sakura stared out the steamy wall-sized pane into the botanical garden in the middle of the spa. She’d come here because she really had no idea where else to go and it seemed like it might be a good place to relax and clear her head. She’d gotten a massage, and the irritating masseuse had told her she was the most tense ‘vacationer’ she’d ever dealt with. Sakura had stared her down with a cold jade glare and the woman left and sent her another masseuse who put steaming hot rocks on her back and left her in here by herself. So for the last hour and a half she’d been lying on her stomach in this hot, incense clogged room, staring out the window with nothing to do but brood.

She wanted to be angry with Deidara, she really really did. She wanted to be furious with him for pushing her for answers she couldn’t give, for wanting more from her than she could allow and for making her want more for herself than she deserved. She wanted to hate him for being Akatsuki and everything that went along with that title. She wanted to be angry at him for dropping into her world again after so many years like a fresh breeze of life and ripping apart all of her carefully constructed layers until she could feel old scars beginning to crack and bleed again. She wanted to hate him for bringing her locked-up feelings close to the surface where they clawed at her to give them life once more. She wanted to hate his vibrant energy, the way he made her laugh without trying, his lazy sexy smiles and that casual drawling voice with its odd speech quirk, and his stupid hair that she loved running her fingers through, and his unusual eyes that were annoyingly piercing, and the deep natural connection they still had after all this time, and the way he touched her that made her crave more and the maddeningly, ridiculously amazing way he kissed her.

But she couldn’t hate these things. In her mind she had tried, but her heart was never in it. She couldn’t because he was the only person she had left in this world and she cared about him too damn much to hold any resentment toward him. So because she couldn’t be angry with him, she was angry with herself.

She had to get away from him this morning because waking up in his arms had evoked things within her she couldn’t handle, and then the way he’d looked at her…She could see she hurt him a little every time she pulled away because he wasn’t the type to reach out to people. He cared about her, and he was trying to help her, and it tore her up and doubled her guilt that she had to do this to him.

He was breaking her down piece by piece. Part of her wanted to reach for him and everything he represented so badly it hurt. But the other part of her hurt too and felt guilty and ashamed for even thinking there could be a life for her without them in it, that she could find happiness in a world that had taken everything from her.

Not everything. She had Deidara again. And he wasn’t merely a way to fill the empty spaces, because he’d held his own special place in her heart that had borne another scar when she thought he’d died. Now he was back in her life and he represented a chance to possibly heal some of those other scars. But would she be betraying their memory if she tried to move on?

And what about Deidara? He had been so uncharacteristically patient and supportive to her, and she knew he was putting himself out there by expressing his feelings for her despite her continued denial of them. She could tell he was nearing the end of his rope with her as well. She feared she was ruining their friendship by rejecting his – and her own – feelings, and driving a wedge between them until they couldn’t even stay friends. She cut herself off in order to not get close to anyone again, but now she realized that she didn’t want to lose him. He was all she had left, and she needed him and what he did for her. But if she gave in, if she went there with him and she lost him like she’d lost Kakashi and everyone else…she didn’t think she could survive another precious person being ripped from her.

Her heart ached so much it left a physical pain in her chest, a feeling she hadn’t had since a time when every day had felt this despairing. It was a sign of danger, and the creeping fear of loss was more than enough to keep her from running to him and apologizing. She had always been an over-thinker and a compassionate person, so she was used to her mind and her heart fighting each other. But this time her heart was battling against itself. She was terrified, because no matter what she did she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to lose, and she didn’t know what to do.

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She went back to the room sometime in mid afternoon, not knowing what she’d encounter. The sky was cloudy and gray and it looked like a heavy storm was going to break soon. There was no wind, and the air was stifling and uncomfortable.

It fit right in with the heavy atmosphere in their suite. She’d anticipated another argument, but all she got from Deidara was a long, unreadable stare. She didn’t know if that was better or worse than a fight. The silence between them was tense and as thick as the humidity that clung to their skin. Sakura sat in the open windowsill staring out at the crashing waves and the approaching storm. The sea was calming and she found it easier to numb her twisting thoughts when she watched and listened to it, even when it was dark and dreary like it was now. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, and at one point she felt Deidara’s presence as he leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed and watched her. She could feel the weight of his stare like a hand on her back, but she didn’t have anything to say so she didn’t look at him, and eventually he disappeared back into the other part of the suite.

He came in again after a while and asked her with quiet, forced casualness if she was hungry. Neither of them had eaten today, and they should at least make an appearance in public at the restaurant. She agreed with equally forced casualness and they went.

Considering the circumstances it may not have been the bestidea, even for the sake of keeping up their public appearance. They weren’t keeping it up at all, actually, barely saying a word to each other throughout the entire meal and you could cut the tension between them with a knife. Deidara reminded her they were on a mission and she had to at least talk to him in public. She had given him a cold glare and then set her features in the most unappealing insincere smile he’d ever seen her wear.

Just when it looked like things couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the sky opened up as the storm broke and the many patrons on the open patio of the restaurant began to fuss and clamor as they were set upon by giant raindrops that soaked to the skin in minutes.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Deidara stood up and forcefully grabbed Sakura’s hand, hauling her up after him and pulling her out of the restaurant. He’d had it. This problem was getting fixed one way or another, now.

He continued to pull her after him as they jogged back to their room. By the time they got to the rock garden in front of their building where the rain was pounding into the koi pond with a loud hissing sound, they were drenched. As they neared the room Sakura jerked her hand out of his with an angry scowl, which he returned with an equally indignant glare as he opened the door. She stomped past him into the room, brushing against him rudely, and he slammed the door behind him.

She immediately whirled on him, and they stared at each other angrily for a long tense moment. They were both soaked from the downpour, and her white dress clung to her skin in very dangerous ways and he could see right through to her bra that was definitely not white. She looked incredibly hot, especially with that angry flush and those big eyes flaring an extra bright shade of green. But he was also incredibly pissed, and he glared back at her in a way that left no question about it.

“What the hell was that about?” she demanded.

“What? Did you want to walk through that flood?” he snapped.

“I could have run on my own,” she said scathingly.

Oh, so now he couldn’t touch her at all? He rolled his eyes and brushed past her. “Get over it, yeah. At least one of us remembers we’re on a mission and have a cover to maintain.”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” she snapped.

He didn’t look at her as he headed toward the bathroom to grab a towel. For himself. “Could’ve fooled me. Unless you’re trying to say that bitch act in the restaurant was for our cover.”

His senses prickled and he turned just in time to avoid the large vase of flowers launched at his head. It crashed into the wall near his shoulder and shattered to pieces, littering the floor with glass, water and demolished orchids.

“What the fuck!” he shouted as he turned to look at her.

Sakura was absolutely livid. “Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me! That was totally uncalled for!”

“Was it? That’s exactly what you were acting like back there!”

She grabbed some decorative carving from the same table she’d gotten the vase and threw it at him as well. Her aim was fierce, and he moved aside as it crashed into a picture on the wall and knocked it down to shatter more glass on the floor.

Goddamn it! Knock it off before you alert security and fuck up this mission more than you already have!” He was so tempted to throw something back but he’d probably only make it worse and they may end up trashing the room. And there was nothing in reach.

She looked ready to kill now. “I’m not trying to fuck up anything! You know exactly why I’m –”

“No I don’t! I don’t, Sakura, because you won’t fucking tell me!” He took a few steps toward her as he spoke. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t budge. “One minute you’re fine, the next minute you totally shut down. You’re so closed off and you act so cold when I know goddamn well it’s a front. It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

She stiffened. “You don’t know me anymore. You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through these last eight years, Deidara. I’m not the same, and I can’t be the same, so stop trying to make me!”

“I understand more than you think, yeah. I know you lost people you loved during the war. I know it’s gotta be hard to find a reason to go on after everything that’s happened, but you have to find a way to move on with life, Sakura,” he said in a milder tone, but one that still conveyed his frustration.

Her frown deepened and she crossed her harms as if to shield herself. “I didn’t just lose people I loved, Deidara. I lost them all. Every single one. The war that took them from me also destroyed my home, our society and the only way of life I knew. You couldn’t possibly understand that because you willingly gave up all those things and you never had people you cared about to feel that kind of loss.”

His expression darkened. “You’re right; I walked away from my village and there aren’t many people I care about. But did you forget that my parents and brother were murdered in our home by other members of my clan? I was a very young child, and they were all I knew back then. Don’t talk to me like I don’t understand loss.”

Sakura flinched guiltily and looked down at her crossed arms. “I didn’t forget that, Deidara. That was very insensitive of me and I’m sorry. But I need you to understand that I’m not able to just move on.”

“You can, you just don’t want to, yeah.”

Her anger flared and she scowled at him again. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she growled.

He gave her a hard look. “You don’t want to move on with life. You don’t want to get past it and you don’t want to be happy. You want to wallow in your pain and misery for the rest of your life because you feel guilty, and every time you find yourself letting go for just one minute, you feel even guiltier and you shut down. You hate yourself because you couldn’t save them and you hate yourself because you’re alive and they’re dead.”

slap!

He’d seen it coming and he let her do it, but his fist clenched automatically in anger as he turned his stinging face back to glare into her hard bright eyes. He wasn’t used to getting hit and not retaliating, and his fingers twitched as the teeth in his hand ground together.

“How dare you,” her tone was dangerously quiet.

He knew he hit deep with that comment. He didn’t like hurting her, but he didn’t flinch under her fury and he wasn’t going to back down because she needed to hear it. “How dare I what? Speak the truth, hmm? They are dead. They’re dead and no one can bring them back. No, you couldn’t save them, but it’s not your fault, Sakura.”

Her eyes narrowed maliciously. “I’m well aware of whose fault it is,” she hissed.

They had to come to that at some point, didn’t they? He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want me to say, hmm? You want me to say I’m sorry? Yes, ok? I don’t regret being in Akatsuki, but I am sorry for any part I may have had in causing you pain. You want to take it out on me? Fine! Take it out on me, yeah. Hit me, scream at me, do whatever the fuck you need to do to get it out of your system, but just fucking do something! Just come out of your shell and be alive again, because it’s wrong for you to act like you’re already dead, Sakura! It’s fucking wrong!”

“You think I like living like this? You think I just decided to be this way? Every fucking day I wake up in some different pisshole and I’m reminded of why I can’t go home, of why it’s not my home anymore! Every time I take a mission I’m reminded that I’m doing it solo because all of my friends, family, and teammates are dead! It’s not that I don’t want to get over it; I can’t get over it, because it was my whole fucking world, Deidara! I can’t just forget about it!”

“Moving on isn’t the same thing as forgetting, yeah. You’re not betraying them by letting go. You think they would want to see you like this? They wouldn’t want you to live this way. They would want you to move on and live a real life and you damn well know it or you would have just killed yourself off and joined them a long time ago! I didn’t know them. We weren’t friends, far from it, yeah. But that is one thing about all of them I am fucking certain of, because they cared about you and wanted you to be happy, and so do I!”

Her angry posture all but crumbled and she stared at him with a pained expression. “You don’t understand…the reason I don’t smile and laugh and be normal is because since they’ve been gone there is nothing that makes me happy. There’s nothing to look forward to but day after shitty day of this fucked-up world of the shinobi we live in.”

“What if that changed?” he asked.

Her eyes closed briefly. “It never changes. It never will, because this world is ugly and cruel and humans are despicable creatures that will always do terrible things to each other. I chose to be a ninja and look what it cost me. Look what it cost you. There’s no room for love and happiness in our world. Every time I feel something good it hurts as well. It’s better to feel nothing at all. But you -” she shook her head and looked out at the storm.

The sound of the pouring rain echoed loudly in the silent room as he stared at her. “What about me?” he asked very quietly.

She met his eyes again with a hollow soundless laugh, running her fingers through her still-dripping hair. “You,” she said in quiet accusation, “you’re part of it, you know. When I heard you died…we were in the middle of a war the Akatsuki started, but I still grieved for you. I went off by myself and I cried for you…because in spite of everything I cared about you and I missed you and a part of me still hoped that I might see you again.” The look on his face was heart-wrenching, and she had to look away before continuing. “And then you were gone, and then they were all gone, and I was all alone.” She sighed heavily. “But now you’re back in my life, and I don’t know what to think or feel about you, and this stupid mission’s getting in the way and complicating things -”

“It has nothing to do with the mission, Sakura,” Deidara interrupted quietly, his gaze piercing right through her. “It’s about you and me, and something that started a long time ago, yeah. I know you’re scared to get close to anyone again, but I’m not going to hurt you.” He didn’t know how to properly convey what he was trying to say, he just knew he wanted to help her.

Sakura ran her hands over her face in frustration. No, no, no! She was giving in. She could feel her walls breaking down. “I can’t do this with you, and you can’t help me! You’re a shinobi; can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not going to die a violent, sudden death someday? Better yet; can you tell me you’re not going to blow yourself up in some crazy expression of art? Everything I feel anymore hurts, even when I try to be happy! Can you make me feel anything that doesn’t echo with pain?”

She didn’t say anything else, because Deidara suddenly grabbed her arms, jerked her forward roughly and crashed his lips to hers. She stiffened, her fingers digging into his biceps and then his chest as she tried to push away. He wouldn’t let her. He kissed her hard and demanding. He kissed her with all of his frustration and anger and desire and every other feeling he had that had the word ‘Sakura’ attached to it. He knew she wasn’t going to fight him because she didn’t really want to, and he wasn’t letting go until he made her feel alive again.

Sakura was furious with him for pulling this stunt and she was determined not to give in again. She stood rigid and defiant in his grasp. She could break free. Hell, she could knock him through the wall if she wanted to and he knew it. This wasn’t about physical domination. He gripped her upper arms hard enough to leave bruises, and she dug her nails into his chest hard enough to leave marks of her own. The rain continued to beat down upon the roof and splash against the patio doors as they fought a silent battle of wills.

It lasted all of ten seconds.

Something inside her broke free, a vital part of her very nature that she’d been repressing for years. She was still furious. She was still terrified. But now she was overcome by a desperate and all-encompassing need to feel. So she gave in. But rather than sigh and melt into his arms, she attacked.

Her hands clawed into his wet, clinging shirt and clamped tightly around his shoulders as she kissed him back wildly. She pulled him against her, pressed herself into him as closely as she could as she roughly pulled his lower lip between her teeth and bit down. He groaned and his arms wrapped so tightly around her ribcage she could barely breathe. She didn’t care, she felt breathless anyway, like she was drowning and his breath was her only source of oxygen. She was almost vicious in the way she clung to him, and he held on to her just as fiercely.

Their tongues met and battled for dominance, neither of them willing to submit. She needed this, so fucking badly it was a physical pain. She felt like ice on fire, and only his hands on her brought any relief. She needed to feel more, needed him against her, inside her. His shirt needed to come off. She pulled on it from the shoulders and it clung to his wet skin. He shifted to help her, but she had no patience or intention to break from this mind-blowingly intense kiss for a piece of irritating damp cloth.

She simply ripped it in half with a dull tearing sound.

Deidara made a half-growl, half-chuckle against her mouth that left no doubt of exactly what he thought about her action, and he quickly shrugged off the split halves without coming up for air and then his hands were all over her. Her hands clung and her nails clawed against his damp back, and his groped over her rear and down her thighs and back up her sides again. She groaned into his mouth when he cupped her ass and pulled her against him roughly.

She took a step backward and pulled him, and he got the hint and fell against her, pushing her backwards with his weight in the general direction of the bedroom. They bumped the sofa and their feet crunched over broken glass as they moved. He had the forethought to bring a hand up and cradle her head just before they crashed into the wall hard enough to knock another picture down and they heard another sharp crack of glass breaking. They ignored it and continued to devour each other.

Deidara’s hand gripped into her hair and he tore his lips away from hers to attack her throat and neck like a man starved. He pushed his hips into hers as his splayed hand stroked firmly up her stomach and palmed over her breast. She panted and arched into him, her fingers clawing and grasping to pull him as close to her as possible. There was another ripping sound and the tiny clatter of buttons flying and scattering across the floor as he tore open the top of her dress to reveal the lacy maroon bra he’d seen through the wet white material. He murmured incoherent approval against her collarbone and his hands were suddenly sliding up the backs of her bare thighs to hoist her effortlessly onto his hips as his lips crashed into hers once more. He pushed her hard into the wall and she made a throaty groan at the feel of his rock hard arousal against her center.

She rocked her hips urgently into his and locked her legs around his waist, her nails clawing hard down his back to grip under his shoulder blades. He didn’t bother to remove her bra, merely yanked down the lacy fabric to expose her small rounded breasts. Her hands threaded tightly into his long damp hair as his mouth worked down the plane of her chest and she squirmed with anticipated desire for the feel of his mouth on her. He didn’t disappoint, wasting no time with teasing and drawing the taut peak into his mouth, working it with his tongue expertly. She moaned and her head fell back against the wall as he suckled at her breast and he rolled and pinched her other nipple between his fingers. She rolled her hips forward and was met by another hard grind from him as he groaned against her tender skin.

Suddenly she felt the wet silkiness of another tongue on her other nipple as his palm cupped the soft flesh. She let out a loud ragged moan as it moved in synch with the tongue in his mouth and a bolt of white hot pleasure ripped through her at the double sensation. She twisted her fingers in his hair and bucked her hips sharply against his. “Deidara…” she panted urgently and mewled as he pulled a bud between his teeth, “now.”

He raised his head and they locked eyes for the first time since he’d forcefully kissed her. The primal desire in his gaze sent a wave of heat to her core and she felt the moisture pool between her legs. He gave her a feral smirk and his lips descended on hers in a frenzy, their tongues colliding as they both moaned into each other’s mouths. His hands slid under her skirt and grasped her thighs roughly, lifting her higher as they kissed so he could work his pants open. She emitted a small sob if desire when his fingers slipped under the edge of her panties. She squirmed against his hand and bit his lip hard enough to make him growl, to make a point that she didn’t want his fingers, she wanted him. Now. He didn’t waste any more time and pulled the thin fabric to the side, and she felt him hard and throbbing against her heated opening. She jerked her hips and he thrust hard and buried himself inside her, biting his lip with a groan at how unbelievably hot and tight she was.

They were wild and desperate, crashing like waves against rocky cliffs. All of their pent up anger and frustration and lust they now took out upon each other in the most primal way. He thrust hard and deep and rough, and she bucked her hips frantically to meet him, nails digging bloody crescents into his shoulders. He gripped her with bruising force and hooked his elbow under her thigh, lifting it higher as he rammed into her, making her cry out loudly.

The torrent railed against the glass doors and the darkening room was filled with the sounds of their untamed passion; pants and moans and sighs as their rain and sweat-dampened bodies fought desperately for release. Sakura felt it coming, that coiling, tightening heat, and her head fell back against the wall as it tore through her so intensely her vision spiked and she cried out a loud keening wail. The sounds she made and the feel of her pulsing tightly around him sent him over the edge as well. His grip on her hips tightened and he drove her hard against the wall with a broken groan against her neck as he shuddered his own release.

Their brutal grips on each other softened to a gentle, exhausted embrace, their breaths heavy as they came down slowly and waited for their racing hearts to still. Deidara’s eyes were closed tightly as his forehead rested against her neck, leaning into her as much to hold himself up as to support her. She was limp and pliant in his arms now, all the fight and tension in her gone, her head resting against the wall in tired fulfillment.

They didn’t move for several moments, listening to the rain and each other’s breathing. Sakura could feel his heart beating against her ribcage, their bodies still joined and her thighs still locked loosely around his slender hips. A moment later he pulled out with a soft groan and gently set her down on shaky legs, and then leaned against her once more as his hands slipped around her waist. They didn’t look at one another and didn’t speak, neither one quite sure what to do next.

Sakura wasn’t sure what was going to happen now, and she was afraid but strangely excited at the same time. They had just crossed a line that changed everything and couldn’t be undone. She was surprised at the ferocity and severity of her need; that feeling had washed over her like a tidal wave and she had been powerless in its wake. It had less to do with actual sex than it did with a primal need to feel alive and connect to another human being. What surprised her most was that she didn’t regret it; she was glad it happened. And there was no one else in the world who could have given her that connection. She needed him and everything he could give to her, and she never realized how much until now.

She lifted her chin and touched her lips softly to the underside of his jaw, fingers trailing lightly through the hair at his neck. He relaxed a little as he tilted his head to look at her face. He had been waiting for a sign from her, an indicator of how she would react to what just happened. He’d been anticipating the worst. He looked into clear jade eyes that were tired and calm and just slightly questioning. She gave him a tiny smirk and he returned it, feeling relieved. She was ok. Maybe more than ok. Maybe he’d done something right after all. He stroked her hair and slowly bent his head to capture her lips in a tender, savoring kiss.

He pressed his brow against hers with a small sigh. “That’s not exactly how I imagined things would go the first time, yeah,” he murmured. The corners of her lips turned and she made a small mumble of assent, her eyes remaining closed. “Still, I can’t say I regret it did, because that was…”

“Fucking amazing,” she breathed, opening her eyes to fix him with a tired smile.

He laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah.” His hands stroked over her hips and waist and he stepped back a little, gently pulling her with him away from the wall.

There was a crunch under his foot as he stepped back, and she looked around the dusky unlit room. Broken glass, shredded flowers and buttons littered the floor along with his ripped shirt in a puddle of water from the broken vase, and she huffed in amusement at the mess they’d made.

“Later, yeah.” His lips trailed teasingly along her jaw as he continued to move her with his hands at her waist. “We’re not done yet,” he murmured sexily against the shell of her ear before pulling her lobe between his teeth, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

She made a soft sound of assent and tilted her head for him as they slowly –finally– moved into the bedroom. He paused and looked into her eyes for a moment before bringing his mouth to hers in a slow, heated kiss, his tongue easing into her mouth and gliding unhurried against hers. His hands moved down her sides and up her thighs, lifting her dress as he went. He slowly peeled the clinging fabric from her damp skin, and she raised her arms to help him remove it and toss it aside.

His eyes roamed appreciatively over her figure as she stood in her lacy undergarments, her pale skin lustrous in the dim natural light with dampness and the afterglow of mind blowing sex. Her hair was still damp, mussed and slightly wild. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips moist and slightly swollen from bruising kisses, her eyes lidded and dark like sparkling emeralds as she looked up at him. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, hmm?” he rasped in a sensual growl that made her feel warm all over. His hands slipped over her waist and up her back. “No, you don’t, do you? You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you, how hard it’s been to be around you and not touch you like this,” he murmured against her collarbone before nibbling up the side of her neck.

She smiled at his words and bent her head to plant sensual kisses along the top of his shoulder as he guided her to the bed. “I wasn’t trying to turn you on,” she half-whispered, smirking against his neck.

He bent his head down and pulled her hair up in his hand as his teeth grazed over the back of her neck. “Oh I know. That’s why you do, yeah.” He lifted her slightly as they bumped the edge of the bed and she climbed backward onto the soft mattress, stepping out of her sandals as she did. He did the same and moved with her, until they were both on their knees on the bed. These soft and deliberate touches and caresses were a big contrast from the frantic and needy groping earlier. “You don’t have to try, Sakura. You’re gorgeous. And then you walk around in those little skirts and those boots…” he made a low growl as he kissed up the column of her throat again, pausing to mumble his words against her skin. “Those boots drive me crazy, yeah. It was all I could do to keep my hands off you.” She laughed softly, her fingers tracing lightly up his sides. “Though…that little bikini with the ties on the sides nearly did me in,” he whispered over her cheek before kissing her again.

His words and voice were like a honeyed caress, and she felt the heat begin to pool within her again and she hummed pleasurably against his lips. “You know…you don’t exactly make it easy yourself,” she murmured, pausing between words to return his kisses. “Walking around with no shirt on…” she ran her hands up over his toned arms and shoulders to play with the soft strands of his long hair, “looking at me like you do…” she kissed along his jaw, over the thin scar toward his ear, and his hands smoothed up her back, fingers finding the clasp of her bra, “the things you say…the way you touch me…”

He made an amused sound as his tongue ran teasingly along the rim of her ear. “You haven’t seen anything yet, yeah…” he murmured, and she felt the hooks snap open and fall away. He slid the straps down her shoulders and she lowered her arms so he could remove the lacy material. His eyes roamed over her breasts in their fully exposed glory, small but full and amazingly responsive…perfect. He remembered the way she’d practically screamed when he used both tongues on them, and he smirked wickedly at the thought of making her scream again and again in every way he knew how. He wanted to create a million moments of perfect art with her, and as his fingers brushed over the taut rosy peaks and she tilted her head back with a throaty sigh, he knew she would be more than up for the task.

Her fingers curled into the cloth of his shorts near his hips and a heady moan escaped her lips as his hands cupped her breasts and those tongues lapped and swirled simultaneously. She grasped the back of his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him hungrily and he immediately met her tongue with his. God, he really is a master with all three, she thought, and then her ability to think coherently was stripped away by the feel of teeth closing gently around both nipples as his tongue delved deeper into her mouth.

She ran her hands up his smooth back, and he hissed a little against her mouth when she brushed over his shoulder blades. She suddenly became more concerned with him than what he was doing to her and she pressed her chest against his to look over his shoulder at the damage she’d done. His arms slid around her waist as she embraced him and his hands stroked small circles over her lower back. “I should heal this up real quick,” she said softly.

“It’s not a big deal,” he murmured against the top of her shoulder. “Heal the bruises I left on you if anything.” He ended his sentence with a soft kiss against her skin, as if in apology for hurting her in his passion.

Sakura could feel the slight pain on her upper arms, hips and thighs where bruising was already starting to appear, but it was minor. “I’ll do that later. But you’ll get blood on the sheets if I don’t. The cleaning lady might think that a bit odd.” She traced lightly over the nail-shaped punctures and other small welts as her chakra flared minutely in her fingertips.

He laughed softly and shook his head against the crook of her neck. “You really are a hellcat, yeah,” he said with amusement, then closed his eyes to enjoy the cool soothing feel of her chakra under his skin.

She blinked. That word registered in her mind as one she’d heard a long time ago. “Hellcat…you’ve called me that before…”

He smirked. “Many times, though mostly when you weren’t around. It fits you.”

“Why?” she asked as her hands rubbed soothingly over his abused back.

“It’s what you reminded me of the day we kidnapped you, yeah. When you busted my hand into tiny little pieces,” he said with a slight grumble.

She chuckled. “That’s what you get for catching my fist with your bare hand. Though, you’re lucky you did, because I was aiming for your head.”

He smirked and lifted his head to look at her face. “Hmm. Aren’t you glad you missed?”

She smiled and her eyes softened as she gazed at him. “Very,” she whispered. She slipped her hands around his neck and pressed into him as she brushed her lips over his in a slow, tender kiss.

That kiss quickly became more heated and soon he was leaning over her to lower her down to the bed. He slid her panties over her rounded hips and removed them, and then she was beautiful and gloriously naked against the soft white sheets, completely at ease under his appreciative gaze. Gorgeous. He slipped out of the rest of his clothing and moved over her, skin on heated skin as his hips settled between her thighs. He twisted to lay half on his side, watching her face intently as his fingers trailed across her rosy breasts and down her soft abdomen, soaking up every breathy sound she made, every pleasured flutter of her eyelashes, the sultry parting of her lips.

His fingers stroked between her thighs and touched her heated center, and she moaned softly at his knowing touch. His fingers slipped inside her slowly and she moaned louder and writhed against his hand, her eyes closing as she bit her lip in pleasure. When the tongue of that hand flicked over that sensitive bundle of nerves she emitted a ragged cry and threw her head back against the pillow, her fists clenching in the sheets beside her. The tongue swirled and lapped at the heated button as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her rhythmically, and in no time her heavy breaths became soft panting moans as she quivered beneath him.

The beauty of a woman’s arousal was every bit as fascinating and enjoyable to him as the explosions created by his jutsu. Sex was an art form, the peak of release the perfect moment of magnificent expression. He found just as much pleasure in making a woman come as he did from his own fulfillment. With a woman as beautiful as the one beneath him, moaning and screaming as he sent her higher and higher, the explosive moment of art created by her release was breathtaking. With Sakura, he would create masterpieces.

Suddenly she arched up off the bed with a gasping cry as her orgasm tore through her, and he continued through it, maximizing her pleasure and drawing out her release as he watched her face raptly. Only when she relaxed again did he remove his hand, and she opened her vibrant eyes to look at him.

His expression was smug and highly lustful, and she gave him a tiny smile and a mild glare. “Bastard,” she sighed. He raised his eyebrows and his smirk widened to an amused grin. “You’re too good at that. It’s not fair,” she murmured more vocally as her breathing returned to normal.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he settled over her again, leaning down to kiss her hungrily. “That was just a warm up, yeah,” he murmured as she lifted her legs to welcome him between her thighs. “Together we’ll create a special kind of art.”

She gave a breathy laugh and threaded her fingers into his long hair, sighing softly as he slowly and smoothly eased himself inside her. His mouth met hers in another searing kiss, and she closed her eyes and gladly succumbed to pleasure.

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When Sakura woke the room was dark and she could hear the rain pattering against the window, though not as violently as before. She was disappointed to find Deidara not there with her, and she wondered where he’d gone. She stretched lazily and a giddy smile formed on her features at the memory of the last few hours.

He wasn’t kidding when he’d said they were going to create art together. She wasn’t even sure how many times he’d sent her over the edge, so lost had she been in the ‘explosive’ pleasure he’d given her. At least three, and that was after the release he’d given her before with his hand. It was almost too much, too intense, and the smug little bastard enjoyed every second of the sweet torture he inflicted upon her senses and her body. She should have known what kind of lover he’d be, but she hadn’t really allowed herself to think on it. He was an artist that found beauty in chaos, and the tumultuous explosion of a thing to be the ultimate expression of his artistic vision. That translated over into sex very well, and it made sense that he’d work to master that extension of his art form as well.

This day had been one of extreme highs and lows, and she was drained to exhaustion both physically and emotionally. She was still unsure what to think or feel about this turn, but at the same time she felt a strange sense of contentment.

She slowly crawled out of bed and stood up, her legs still sore and a bit weak. She slipped on her thigh-length silk dressing robe that was the same wine color as the undergarments now strewn about the floor, and then quietly padded out to the main room.

This room was dark as well and Deidara was standing with his back to her, arms crossed over his bare chest as he looked out the patio doors, watching the rain pour. She saw he’d cleaned up the broken glass and wreckage from their fight, and she couldn’t help but smirk in amusement at how volatile it had been.

She quietly moved behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his long hair between his now-healed shoulder blades. His arms settled atop hers and he made a small sound of greeting that echoed under her ear. “Hey,” she said softly, remembering this morning and noting the ironic reversal of their positions.

Only Deidara didn’t hesitate to turn around inside her embrace and wrap his arms over her back, and her head settled once more against his collarbone. “I didn’t think you’d wake up again tonight, yeah,” he spoke into her hair.

“You wore me out.” She heard the low laugh rumble in his chest as his arms tightened around her. “But I’d rather sleep with you there with me,” she said quietly, looking up at him with a small smile.

He gave her a lazy grin and ran his fingers through the soft hair at her temples before cradling her head in his hands. She was the perfect height to simply stretch his neck and press a kiss to her forehead, and he did so before sliding his hands down her arms to grasp her fingers. “Come on,” he murmured, and led her back into the bedroom.

He lowered her onto the bed and kissed her, easy and languorous with a slow burning passion. He slipped his arms around her waist and she held his face in her hands, and when their kiss ended she sighed and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. “You didn’t really bring me back in here to sleep did you?” he asked with quiet amusement.

She giggled softly. “Actually I did,” she said tiredly, and he laughed quietly as he settled on his back, half sitting against the headboard, and she curled into his side and laid her head on his chest. “It’s been a long day,” she finished quietly, her tone sobering somewhat.

Deidara didn’t respond other than to stroke her hair softly, and she traced over the light ridges of his stomach with her fingertips. “I’m sorry…for how I’ve been toward you, these past few days,” she said quietly, a small frown on her features that he couldn’t see.

He rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades, his brow creasing slightly. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I pushed you, I just couldn’t stand to see you so unhappy.”

His words soothed her heart but pained it at the same time, and something welled up deep inside and pushed at the surface. She felt very heavy. “It’s been so hard these last few years,” she whispered. “Ever since…I’ve been all alone for so long…” she trailed off with a ragged sigh. He continued to softly stroke her hair and back, and she felt something unlock and break apart inside. “I don’t want to be alone anymore…I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

His heart wrenched at hearing her tiny, shaking voice express so much pain and despair. He mentally fumbled for the proper, consoling words she needed to hear, “You’re not alone now, yeah,” he said very quietly.

His words didn’t exactly have the calming effect he’d intended, because a moment later her whole body tensed and coiled like a spring, and she trembled in his arms before letting out a breathy sob as all of the hurt and depression and loneliness she’d held in for so long finally broke free and washed over her. She curled tighter against him and her fingers gripped his sides almost painfully as her whole body shook with desperate, wracking sobs.

Her hot tears spilled onto his chest and rolled down his stomach. He felt awkward and almost guilty for setting her off even though he knew she needed it, and he had no idea what to do to make her pain stop so he held her tightly and whispered soothing incoherent words into her hair as she rode out this long overdue breakdown. Strange things were happening inside him as he listened to her let it all go. Her anguish distressed him so greatly it actually left a physical pain in his chest. It worried him a bit because he’d never felt anything like it before. He hated seeing her like this, hated hearing those sobs that only one who has seen the very bottom of despair could cry. He hated it so much it was making him angry, but there was nothing and no one to be angry at, and so he just felt helpless.

Sakura cried so hard she could barely breathe and had to suck in gulping breaths between sobs. She cried until her head ached from the strain and the emotional exhaustion caused an automatic shutdown and her body fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

He wiped the remnants of moisture from her cheeks, kissing her tear-swollen lids while lifting her gently and settling down into the bed. He pulled her against him again and wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she burrowed into him with a small whimper. Even though she was asleep her breathing still hitched occasionally, and tears would leak from under her lashes as she cried even in sleep.

Deidara remained awake for quite a while, continuing to stroke her hair absently as he tried to figure it all out, troubled by the reaction she caused in him and thinking to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure she never, ever cried like this again.

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A/N: Whew! That was intense, no? All that bottled-up emotion and sexual tension had to break sometime…

Until next week!
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