Yoru No Koishii

D’Ceandre: All right, I know I should be working on Shadow Rising, but this little plot kitten just kinda dug its claws into my arm and refused to let go.
Fluffy and sweet, and mayhaps some OOCness and totally not my usual style, but I don’t think it turned out that bad.

Trouble: That’s your opinion.

D’Ceandre: Tch. How troublesome.

Oh, right, forgot the disclaimer. So, not mine, except for the few oc's that show up here and there, but they're not important. No money made, yadda yadda.

******

I don’t know why I go to him, night after night, when I sneak out through the space in the back of my cell where I had managed to loosen just enough bricks to fit through, thankful that at least my small stature was good for something.

It wasn’t like he was going to protect me. Hell, the bastard was the reason I ended up here in the first place; trapped and overpowered months ago and tied in a cold dark room for the pleasure of a thrice-damned snake.

But I wonder, as I often do, why the hole has never been closed up, or the door of the cell next to mine locked. When I leave on these nightly trips, nothing holds me but the tight leather collar around my neck, black with silver studs and a weaving silver snake stitched into the material, and the huge black snake tattooed on my back. Though by day I was always chained carefully if taken out of the dungeon, hands cuffed behind my back, ankles hobbled, strong chain leash attached to the D-ring in the collar, by night I roamed free, only needing to avoid the few guards carelessly spread about, an easy task with the stealth skills no one would have believed I had.

******

I still remember the first night, not long after I had first been taken.

I hadn’t intended to go there. I was interested only in escape that night, escape from the snake’s dirty touch, from the pleasure and pain he forced on me. But I had become lost, an easy task for someone who had only ever seen one path, the few halls between the entrance to the dungeons and the master suite and back. I had been wandering in confusion when I had caught his scent.

It confuses me still, how his scent affected me so oddly. Anger, pain, desire, sadness, comfort. The words barely touch the feelings just a hint of that fragrance sets off in me.

I had hid, of course, but it seemed that, as always, my best tactics were useless against him.

He had been reading some scroll as he walked down the empty hall, seemingly intent on the words printed on it, but he had stopped as soon as he came abreast of the hiding space I had chosen, ebony eyes moving from the paper to the dark alcove I stood in with no hesitation.

I never figured out how he had known. My chakra, what was left after all the seals and jutsu placed on me, had been carefully damped until I was sure someone standing toe-to-toe with me wouldn’t be able to sense it. My breathing was silent, and there was no shirt to shift with the movement of my chest. The shadows of the alcove hid all but maybe my blue eyes, no longer as bright or innocent as they had once been, but they were nearly fully hidden by my lids, the slit that remained open curtained by my lashes.

Maybe it was instinct, a sixth sense, gained from spending so much time together. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that he knew I was there. But then, I had always been good at ignoring the obvious, and so didn’t move from my not-so-hidden spot, refusing, as usual, to admit defeat.

“Come.” He said, then continued walking down the hall, apparently sure that he would be obeyed.

An angry breath passed sneering lips. How dare he. Did he think I was just going to comply with his orders, just because I was forced to obedience during the day?

It was with a fair amount of shock that I actually found myself trailing after him, following at a discreet distance, slipping from shadow to shadow as if the person I was trailing didn’t know I was there. He did know; it was obvious in the way he walked, the scroll tucked into a pocket, his head tilted slightly; more then obvious in the way the corner of his mouth quirked up in an amused smirk, visible when he turned a corner and glanced back down the hall, always knowing exactly where I was, black eyes sending a challenge I had never been able to ignore.

Finally we reached his destination, a single door, plainer then the rest in the hall. He unlocked it carefully and stepped through, leaving it open in obvious invitation.

I didn’t accept, though, remaining where I was, staring at the opening, suddenly wanting to turn tail and run.

I even did turn, took a few steps away, almost convinced myself it was just idle curiosity that had brought me this far.

But then I heard it, barely more then a whisper, certainly nothing normal ears would have been able to pick up.

“Come, Kitsune.”

And just like that my feet were changing direction, carrying me toward the door. Before I knew it I was taking a step through, then another, reaching the middle of the room before it occurred to me to stop.

The only light came from a lamp in one corner, but it was more then enough to reveal the opulence of the room. Comfortable-looking furniture of fine leather, hardwood tables that had been rubbed to a near-blinding sheen. The dark blue carpeting was thick and soft under my bare feet, and for a moment I felt unworthy to be standing here, felt like I should leave and return to the dirty cell I had crawled out of.

“You’re dirty.” His voice came from so close behind me that I jumped, shocked at the deep timbre and the arms that wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder a moment before I was pushed toward another door that led to a bathroom, just as huge and rich-looking as the sitting room.

“Don’t be long.” Then he closed the door behind me, and I was sure I heard it lock, though at the moment I didn’t really care. He was right. I was dirty, though the places I felt dirtiest were where no amount of soap and water could clean them.

I wasted no time in stripping off the ragged pants I wore, dropping them in an untidy heap on the floor, and climbed into the shower, setting it to a near-painful heat in a futile attempt to wash the memories from my mind. I scrubbed at my skin until it was red, hoping to erase the feel of filth left by deathly pale skin pressing against it.

“Baka.” I heard, and looked up, through the clear shower door to see him waiting with a huge towel. The pants had disappeared while I was distracted.

Giving up on getting rid of the snake’s touch, I turned off the water, and climbed out, accepting the towel wordlessly. My eyes stayed directed to the floor now, as if I were ashamed or afraid to meet his gaze. Truthfully, I’m not sure; it might have been one or the other, or both, or maybe neither.

In any case, he didn’t mention it, only helping me into a short robe and leading me to the bedroom. The lights were turned off and I soon found myself tucked into his huge bed, fully aware of his presence beside me, not touching, but easily within reach.

I’m not sure who moved first, but it wasn’t long before I was pressing against him, my head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapping securely around me. That was how we fell asleep.

******

The light awoke me, my body grown unused to it, the next morning, the gleam of pre-dawn shining in the windows. I rose, trying not to wake him. I’m pretty sure I did, but he didn’t move at all, just an almost-glimpse of sleepy black out of the corner of my eye, gone when I turned to look at him again.

I wasn’t sure where my pants had gone to; the only visible clothing was the robe I wore, and I wasn’t going to go hunting through his closets. So I kept the robe as I slipped through the halls, somehow managing to find my way back to my cell in far less time then it had taken me to wander from it last night. I crawled back through the hole, removing the robe first to keep it from getting torn, then dressed again and curled up on the pile of blankets tossed in a corner.

Later I was kicked awake, to be fed a small meal and then chained and dragged to be abused and used again. No one commented on my change of clothes, though Orochimaru seemed unusually amused, and I wondered whether they didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care.

******

And so it continued. Every night I’d sneak from the cell, finding my way to his room to spend the night curled in his arms. Sometimes there was food, usually a shower and a change of clothes, once a present, a small pendant, 3-D red and white uchiwa set into crystal, to hook on my collar, though I wasn’t sure I liked the symbolism.

******

Tonight though… tonight something’s different. The halls are too quiet, as if everything in existence is holding its breath. I wander toward his rooms seeing not a single guard. The plain door is locked, a clear sign that he’s not inside.

I drop to the floor, curling up in front of the door to wait for him. It doesn’t even occur to me to look for him. These are his rooms, and this is where he’ll come, eventually.

But as the minutes turn to hours, my eyelids grow heavy, and I soon sink into sleep, still waiting.

******

A hand nudges me awake, and I blink, looking up into a single smiling grey eye.

“Kakashi-sensei?” My voice is rough after using it so little.

“Oi, Naruto. This isn’t exactly the most comfortable place for a nap.” He says, then helps me to my feet.

Confused, I try the doorknob again, finding it still locked.

“Naruto!” I’m nearly knocked off my feet by a pink-haired blur, who then proceeds to cover me in tears.

“I’m fine, Sakura-chan.” I tell her, then look over her shoulder. Gaara stands a few steps away, in his normal you’re-not-worth-my-bother stance, but something about his expression looks relieved. He looks different, though I’m not sure why.

“Come on.” Sakura says, dragging me down the hall. “Everyone’s been so worried.”

I flinch when we reach the exit and I’m pulled out into the early morning. The light hurts my eyes, and I pull my arm free from her grasp to rub at them, tears hazing my vision.

Then I’m being hugged again, my face buried in a large set of breasts.

“Baa-chan.” I mumble. “I can’t breathe.” She promptly releases me.

“You’re all right?” She holds my head between her hands, using her chakra to examine me. I wince as I feel something within me tear, then suddenly my chakra flares, the seals binding it gone. The collar is cut off and I can feel the Kyuubi moving sleepily, beginning to awaken again.

I’m more concerned with other things, though, as my eyes flit over the prisoners standing in a group, searching for a certain pair of eyes.

“He’s not here.” Tsunade says, knowing who I’m looking for. “He disappeared sometime yesterday, according to our spies.”

I just nod, trying not to look too disappointed, and she turns away, to decide what to do with the prisoners.

******

Before long, I’m standing alone, everyone gone to do assigned jobs or to celebrate the end of Sound. It’s not hard for me to slip, unnoticed, back inside the building, even easier to find my way back to the door. It’s easily opened now that I have my chakra back.

Inside it’s the same it always is, an uneaten bowl of fruit sitting on a side-table, the curtains open to let the sunlight in. I pick a pear from the bowl and bite into it, sucking the juice from the soft fruit, and move on. The bedroom door is opened, and the bed beyond neatly made.

Then something catches my eye, a slim box sitting on the right side of the bed, my side. I set the pear down and pick it up, opening it cautiously.

Inside is a black ribbon choker, reminding me of the one Haku wore when I first met him, in the woods. But this one has lace along the edges of the ribbon, and a crystal, identical to the one that hung off the now discarded leather collar, hung from it. I lift the ribbon out of the box, watching the pendent dance.

“An apology?”

I turn to look at Gaara, who’s standing at the door. Then it occurs to me what’s different. The dark markings around his eyes are faded. Not gone, but not as dark as they once were. His green eyes look darker without them.

“No.” I answer finally, looking back at the choker. I toss the box back on the bed and fit the jewellery around my neck. “Not an apology, a promise.”

We leave the room together, me snagging another pear from the bowl as we pass it. There’s nothing more left here for me.

He’s gone for now, darkness swallowed by the light of day. But I know someday, like the night that always returns, he’ll be back, surprising me with a pair of arms around my waist and a silky voice in my ear.

******

There. Isn’t it pretty? I might write up some more, later, if I get in the mood.