Chant d'Automne

Chapter Six: Purple Prose for a Blushing Violet

Hinata awoke to the most pleasant feeling: a heavy arm draped over her waist, a lithe, warm body flush against her back, and—was that what she thought it was, poking her where it felt like it was poking her? She hadn’t come in to contact with one of those for quite a while. Feeling like a contented cat lazing in a patch of sun, she snuggled closer.

In response, there was a purring groan and a hand started stroking her hip.

“Hinata,” came the voice from the man behind her. “Could you move back to your side?”

“Kakashi!” Wide awake, Hinata scrambled away to the far side of the tent, which wasn’t that much further away. “Wh-what are you doing?” Why was she fine around him one moment, and stuttering the next?

He raised an eyebrow at her from his position on his side. “Waking up slowly. I thought you said we were going to stay on opposite sides.”

“Well, I- yes! But I- guess I rolled around or something…” She desperately wanted to ask why he had had his arms around her, an embrace. And it had felt…good, every part of him, even his- Hinata’s eyes glanced, almost imperceptibly, down at her teacher’s crotch. She couldn’t tell. Was that bulge just the material of his pants?

Most people would not have perceived the girl’s quick eye movement down, and then back up. However, most people do not have Sharingan. Even one will do the trick, if used strategically.

Kakashi’s uncovered Sharingan saw Hinata look for evidence of his erection. So, she had felt it. He was embarrassed, perhaps even mortified. He didn’t feel he should be, but he was, a little. He should not have invited her to sleep in his tent. That was a weakness on his part. It was supposed to be part of her training to cope with physical and mental strain. But she had looked so tired, her face pale, with dark circles outlining indents under her eyes, and she had just saved him the trouble of bandaging his arms.

“We’ll leave in half an hour, so get what you need, and don’t be late. Now, I have some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me…” He threw the covers off, exposing his torso, still unclothed from when he had removed his shirt the previous night. Pulling his mask on, he left the tent.

Their awkward moments, though still frequent, were becoming easier for them to just breeze through.

Hinata was getting quite used to seeing him like that and felt rather spoiled but knew, at the same time, she shouldn’t be complaining. After all, it was sort of like free porn: the attraction would never be anything other than physical.

Under the sheet that Kakashi had thrown aside, the student glimpsed a small corner of pinkish-orange. She pulled it out. Kakashi’s book. Kakashi’s infamous, perverted book. Icha Icha Paradaisu.

What was it about, anyway? She shouldn’t look, she told herself. This was his personal belonging. If she wanted to know what it was, she could check it out from the library or buy a copy when she got back- she was almost old enough now, they wouldn’t card her. But here it was, in her hands, its owner conveniently absent.

Everyone assumed it was mindless, indecent, pornographic. Would Kakashi actually carry something like that around in public? Well, he did. But when he was teaching? It could easily fall into the hands of a student. He wouldn’t be that irresponsible.

Curiosity and practicality got the better of her and she opened the book so she could have time to look at it before Kakashi returned.

‘Junko combed her long chestnut hair with the tortoiseshell comb her grandmother had given her.’

Not too bad so far.

‘She had a princess-like grace, and carried her petite, curvaceous frame more maturely than her nineteen years suggested. Her green eyes held all the depths and chaos of the ocean.’

A little trite, but serviceable. Hinata settled into a more comfortable position.

‘Junko’s striking features and elegant self-assuredness had captured the attention of more than one young man in town. Junko’s parents hoped that one of these respectable men would be lucky enough to capture Junko’s wild heart. But what are luck and hope in the face of love? Junko’s heart was already betrothed to the heart and soul of another- a poor, foreign ninja.’

The writing seemed to deteriorate in quality with each successive sentence. But there was no porn so far.

‘Kyo. His sweet moniker passed through her luscious, plump pink lips as she moaned his name. The stealthy ninja had sneaked into her room and stood behind her. She opened her eyes and saw him through the mirror of her vanity table.

He ran a hand up her side to squeeze one of her large, aching globes.’

Whuhuh? This was porn? Globes must be breasts. Hinata read on, morbidly fascinated.

‘ “Kyo,” she moaned sultrily, turning around to face him. Their lips moved closer, touched. Kyo slid his tongue into the wet, open cavern of her mouth, claiming this first part of her. She fisted her hands through his unruly hair, arching herself against him. Her pert, rosy peaks, straining through the thin material of her gown, grazed his half-covered, magnificently male chest.

Kyo broke the kiss, breathing hard. He gazed into his lover’s eyes, normally wide and doe-like, but now hooded in primal pleasure. Her pouting lips smiled, parted to reveal a small pink tongue that darted out quickly, then back in.

Unable to resist her feminine wiles, Kyo pushed her back into the cushioned seat in front of the vanity and knelt down in front of her.

He captured her mouth again, more urgently, then began to trace fluttering kisses down her slender neck, where he knew she was extra-sensitive.

Junko gave short, heated gasps, one hand in Kyo’s hair again, one on the muscled plains of his back. Her lover continued his trail downward, stopping at spots to suckle and lick before moving on. His hands moved to her breasts, two full hemispheres, firm and flushed with youth, and they practically presented themselves to him, begging for attention. He lowered his head to one, kissing around the hardened nub, then catching it gently in his teeth and licking through the flimsy material of her gown.

Her breath assumed a desperate rhythm, and her hips bucked, her raw need preempting any rational thought. “Please…”

“Patience, my love,” he replied, grasping her ankle with one hand and running it up her leg. As his hand moved up, he lifted her skirt with it, until her creamy thighs were revealed to him. And between those two pillars of glory, her inner sanctum. Wet, needy pink flushed the damp petals of her womanhood. Kyo stroked his hand up her thigh, closer and closer to that hallowed junction. Junko’s small hands had busied themselves with her breasts, kneading and pulling them. “Kyo,” she panted. “I need you.”

Requiring no further motivation, the ninja slowly ran his tongue through her moist folds, savoring her sweet, musky flavor. He gripped her thighs for better leverage and swirled his tongue once around her treasured pearl of passion. She cried out softly, breathlessly.

This sent another wave of desire coursing downward to his groin, tightening his aroused flesh even more.

Engrossed in this heavenly interlude, he almost missed the sound of footsteps in the hall outside Junko’s room.

The doorknob turned, and Kyo-’

Before Hinata could find out what was going to happen to Kyo and Junko when they were caught, she heard another pair of footsteps, outside the tent. Kakashi was back! Where had the book been before she had taken it? Somewhere under his covers, but he would probably notice if it were out of place. An ominous shadow moved outside the tent- her teacher’s. Her teacher! What had she done?! She had stolen the private possession of a teacher, pornographic material that he most likely did not want anyone else seeing.

Frantically, she tried to replace the book. No, that looked as if someone had arranged it for a still-life photograph.

Outside, Kakashi was humming an indiscriminate tune, something she ordinarily would have found absurd and a little funny, but now it sounded like the dirge for her funeral. His hand was on the zipper, pulling.

Quick! She still had the book in her hand. As the tent flap opened, she stuffed Icha Icha Paradaisu into her baggy shirt, and then wrapped a blanket around herself.

Kakashi ducked in.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” He asked. Without his hitae-ate, his silver-gray hair stuck out, up, sideways, and down, at even odder angles than usual.

“Um…I was. I- I’ll go now.” She stumbled clumsily out of the tent, taking the blanket with her. On her way out, she heard Kakashi mumbling “…odd…here a minute ago…”

He knew! Well, maybe he just wanted to know where his book was.

Once out of the tent, Hinata removed the blanket and book and wrapped the latter in the former. But, where to put it? There, her backpack, which she had left among the ruins of her tent failure. He’d never look through her things without permission…unlike her, the girl with no morals. That was a little harsh, she conceded. It had been an unexpected situation, and she had panicked…

Oh, this was so bad. How would she return it now? (An immoral person would not even bother to return the book, she told herself. She was doing the right thing.) Last night had been a one-time deal-- when would she get another chance when he wasn’t watching his stuff?

She ran an anguished hand through her hair, finding that it was disgustingly stringy and greasy. Wonderful. Not only was she a thief, she was an unwashed thief.

--------------------

--------------------

Kakashi resisted the urge to rub at his bandages. The wounds itched. Too bad, he told himself. If he had used more caution dealing with that thing, not used such a flashy move, he would not have gotten hurt… but he had been caught off guard. It was difficult to admit, but he had only sensed the thing when it had been too close to do anything effective. Substitution jutsu was second nature to him, and he had forgotten, for a second, that Hinata could not use it.

When he had seen her down there, where he had abandoned her, face to face with that monster, virtually unable to defend herself… he should have stopped to think. He could have hurt her with chidori, if for some reason she hadn’t been able to get out of the way. But she had, another part of him countered, so he had no reason to feel guilty. There was no reason to dwell on it. She was fine, and he was the one who had gotten hurt.

The jounin pulled a clean shirt from his backpack, where it was lodged next to his copies of Icha Icha Baiorensu and Icha Icha Takutikusu. Before he had fallen asleep last night he had just been getting to the first really juicy part of Icha Icha Paradaisu. Reading that with Hinata only a few feet away had been tempting, dangerous. She had slept on her stomach, and when he had looked over, he could make out the sloping curve from her shoulder down her back, and up again through the roundness of her bottom.

His mental perusal of her body brought him back to what had triggered it in the first place: his book. He wanted to continue reading. Where was it? He hadn’t seen it a few minutes ago, but that had been after a cursory going-over. He had expected it to turn up when he rifled through the blankets. Nowhere. Bloody nowhere. Of course, he had it memorized, and the one missing was his second back up copy-- not his first copy ever, not his autographed copy, not his annotated or limited edition copy.

Damn. Where was it?

The more primal aspect of Kakashi’s mind flashed upon Hinata again. That night, for a moment before he could repress the thought, he had fantasized about her… with him. It was wrong, he repeated. It was wrong to think of her that way. Even if he had the self-control not to do anything to make it a reality, it violated her. It violated the trust she placed in him, as his student, as someone junior to him in age. Thirteen years junior, in fact. Would it have made a difference if they were closer in age?

Kakashi packed his bedroll and blankets absentmindedly. This sort of dilemma, this frustration-- this was part of the reason he read something as graphic as Icha Icha, as opposed to some other fluffy romance. Icha Icha had sex and intrigue. He immersed himself in them to avoid the difficulties that came with actual relationships.

That was enough of that. Too much introspection made his head hurt. He took a small square analog watch from a pocket in his backpack. About twenty minutes had passed since they had woken up, and Hinata still hadn’t packed her bedroll, or, he was guessing, anything of her other things. Washing up should not take this long. He went out of his tent, and over to her collapsed one. Her pack was there on top of it, zipped but sagging without much in it.

Maybe she knew where the book was…

-------------------

-------------------

A ninja’s footsteps are only heard when he wants them heard. Otherwise, they are silent, as a precaution, or in the case of an experienced ninja, second nature. Any mistakes, a cracking twig or rustling leaf, would be the work of an amateur.

Kakashi could never remember being called an amateur, ever. Even when he was three, he had already been recognized as a child prodigy.

That had been a blessing and a curse, he thought, as he stepped over a patch of mottled mushrooms at the root of a gingko tree. He had never known anything other than respect received for his abilities. As a child and young man, this had gone to his head. He realized that now. Thinking about his arrogance and the blunders it had cause still made him cringe inwardly.

Obito and Hinata may have had something in common. Both were expected to be geniuses…and both had disappointed. Both were kind, generous. But they weren’t exactly the same either. Obito had been loud, uninhibited in letting everyone know who he was, what he wanted, and how he felt. Thinking about Obito always brought him back around to Naruto. He had been a little hard on Naruto at first. The boy was so similar, a constant reminder of what he had lost, and how. After a while, though, he came to see Naruto’s positive aspects, just as with Obito.

Kakashi could hear a waterfall a short distance away. From the noise level it sounded small, only about two point five meters high. He made his way through the foliage and between the trees, toward the sound. Finally he stood on a low outcropping of rock overlooking one end of a long pool.

Ripples radiated from the other end, marring the otherwise clear view of the dark green and brown bottom. He knelt, intending to dip his hands in the cool water, but suddenly sensed a chakra signature- Hinata’s. Unable to see her from where he was, he was about to call her name, but looked to his right toward the falls.

There she was—he almost fell into the water.

Hokage’s balls, she was naked. His breath caught in his throat, and he could feel the blood leaving his brain, rushing lower. He ducked behind a shrubby tree. How long had he fantasized about this? About seeing her let down her barriers, and be comfortable with herself? Ever since she had moved in, he had wondered how she looked when she wasn’t so self-conscious, or worried what she looked like.

And now here she was, knee deep in clear fresh water, hair loose about her shoulders. Light fell in bright patterns, throwing sparkles from the waterfall into to air, that then stuck to her pale smooth skin. Her back was to him, and his gaze immediately dropped lower, and his hand subconsciously moved lower as well.

Her body was magnificent, open and pure, but still intriguing. She held her shoulders slightly curved forward, head down, as if, even alone, she was slightly uneasy with her appearances. Maybe not uneasy…more like scared. Scared of what she could do?

Having finished scrubbing the grime off her skin and out of her hair, she moved closer to where Kakashi was hidden and sat on a partially submerged rock in the middle of the pool.

He could now see her profile and…he swallowed thickly. Her breasts. Ever since his fourteenth birthday, when he was in ANBU, breasts had fascinated him. After making captain, some of his older team mates had decided he was old enough to garner a more adult sort of celebration. That night in the strip joint, with topless women surrounding him, he had discovered two things. One, he loved large, round breasts. And two, women deserved more respect than the admiration and lust directed at their bodies.

Was he respecting Hinata, by hiding here in the bushes, watching her bathe? No. There was no way around that. It would be so easy to leave quietly. She would never have to know he had been there. But…he stole one more look at her surprisingly well-developed breasts and then looked down at the tent in his pants.

Okay. That was enough. This was over the line. He no longer had control over his own body.

Preparing to make a stealthy getaway, he heard a soft moan coming from Hinata.

“Kakashi…”

Did she know he was here? If she had caught him, he did deserve it. He crouched lower in the leafy cover, making sure his chakra signature was still concealed. It easily could have been dropped while he had been…distracted.

He looked over at her again. She was halfway reclined on the rock, resting on one elbow, while the water lapped around her feet and hips. And her other hand was…oh, gods. His eyes followed the line of that arm down to where it was making small, rhythmic movements between her legs. He had a pretty good idea of what it was doing. Nonsense. He knew exactly what it was doing…

…all while thinking about him.

---------------------

---------------------

Author’s Notes: ooh, what an evil cliffhanger! Uh, not really. I suck at cliffhangers. Luckily for you readers, I post two chapters at a time. Yes, sorry for the wait. Spring break went by much quicker than I expected.