Seven Deadly Sins
folder
Naruto › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,786
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Naruto › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,786
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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.
Lust
Geez, this is something I’m doing because I’m a little stuck with A True Love Never Dies. I have no idea what to do with that story, and I don’t have much motivation for it, so I’m writing this piece of junk. Until an awesome idea literally hits me in the head, enjoy!
And, of course, facts may be changed and/or made up. Bear with me, all of my money’s tied to school, leaving nothing for my manga.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lust
I, Kakashi Hatake, am a great ninja. I am a great asset to the village of Konoha. Many know me to be many things: the Copy Ninja, the Sharingan Kakashi, leader of Team 7, late, Icha Icha fan…all of these things make up my identity. I am the man of 1000 jutsus, undoubtedly copied over many years, I have great self control, I always have the ever-present mask that hides my true face and I’ve had more than his fair share of loss…but underneath my battle-hardened façade is a man.
I trained a three-man team, as ordered by the Third Hokage. He felt that I have had to deal with too much grief over the years, and teaching the next generation of shinobi was what was supposed to be a break from the constant threat of death during dangerous missions. I didn’t find a team that seemed worthy enough to teach, but these three urchins passed my test.
I taught the container of the Kyuubi, Naruto Uzumaki, who left to train with the toad sage that happened to write the very books I love. This was quite a lucky break; now, I’d get advanced copies of Jiraiya’s books before they hit the bookstores, meaning that I wouldn’t have to fight my way through a demanding crowd (not that it was a challenge anyway).
I taught one of the last Uchihas, specifically, the one who didn’t murder his entire family and defected from his village to join a powerful organization of other missing-nins, Sasuke Uchiha. His avenging heart made him go to the snake sage, Orochimaru, for power. His only goals in life were to kill his brother, Itachi Uchiha, the responsible party for the murder of their family, and to restore his clan.
Then there was one more person; a girl. Her name was Sakura Haruno. I taught her, but I didn’t teach her much, for I left her on her own to turn my attention towards the boys. Eventually, she left to pursue an apprenticeship with the slug sage, Tsunade, the current Hokage with amazing medical abilities. Sakura left, but didn’t leave. Yes, she left me in favour of Tsunade, but she didn’t leave the village. She spends most of her time in the hospital, patching up wounded ninjas and sick civilians, and patching me up in the comfort of my home when I refused to go to the hospital. She didn’t leave like Naruto and Sasuke, she stayed right here.
I regret leaving her behind for the others, but now the tables have been turned.
She left me behind.
I don’t know how it happened, but it did. I looked at her one day, and I didn’t see the little girl I used to teach (or not teach); instead, I found a young woman. She stood strong with the knowledge of Tsunade vested in her, and she had perfect chakra control which was a useful skill in the medicinal field. She wasn’t the young, 12 year old girl anymore; she was a strong 17 year old.
I noticed her presence at the local bar favoured by shinobi one night, the Shuriken Holster. I presumed that she was out on a girls’ night out with her friends. Genma, my drinking buddy and subordinate, was quick to point them out to me. My eyes fell onto the young woman with the rose-coloured hair and the striking emerald eyes. She was quite lovely, I had to admit. I don’t remember growing up; when did she?
“Ladies, why don’t you come and join us?” invited Genma. “We’re all by ourselves over here!”
Sakura giggled and her party of women made their way over, slightly delayed by other men in the bar who stopped to compliment them. As she neared, I observed her discreetly; the black skirt hugged her hips and showed off her delectably toned thighs, her strappy black heels gave her some height, her pale pink halter showed off her slim waist and gave onlookers a small amount of cleavage…but it was tempting nonetheless.
I never thought that my former student would grow into the beautiful woman who stood before me.
Genma began to twirl one of her friends, the Yamanaka girl if I’m not mistaken. She giggled and tripped over her own feel and landed in Genma’s lap.
“My goodness, my dear,” he gushed, “I’ve never known you to be such a flirt, Ino.”
I rolled my eye and Ino laughed in her high pitched voice. It makes me wonder how many drinks she’s had since she walked in the door 10 minutes ago.
My vision rolled over to my right and away from the flirtatious couple to Sakura, who had sat down next to me and ordered a cherry cordial.
“Would you like some of my sake?” I offered. She shook her head politely.
“No thanks, Kakashi-sensei. I need to stay alert in case of an emergency at the hospital,” she explained to me.
“Sakura, I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” I gently reprimanded her. I silently admired her intentions of staying sober; she was helping the shinobi efforts in her own way.
“I can’t stop, sensei; it’s a force of habit. Anyways, why would you want me to stop? Doesn’t it give you the feeling of authority? Oh, thank you,” she said politely to the bartender that handed her the drink.
“Actually, it makes me feel old,” I reply.
She gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t think thirty-something is old, Kakashi-sensei. You’re not balding or gaining weight, though your hair is starting to grey…” she snickered.
“It’s not grey, it’s silver,” I corrected her nonchalantly.
“Grey.”
“Silver.”
“Grey.”
“Silver.”
“Silver.”
“See, I knew you’d agree with me,” I smirked, sipping my sake dish in victory.
“Rats, and you thought you were getting old. If you don’t fall for that trick, then you are definitely not old,” she joked.
I chuckled and pulled out my book. I could faintly hear a scoff of disapproval coming from my right. Times don’t change, do they?
As I pretended to read, my eye kept regarding her through the corner of my eye. She seemed to be lost in thought, taking a sip of her cherry cordial every now and then. She truly was a strong woman (and a beautiful one at that), always looking out for others and helping them. I felt a tiny swell of pride blossom in my chest, and then the crushing truth hit me:
I had no part in it.
I overlooked your potential. I ignored you in favour for the boys. I didn’t think you’d grow to be so…adult.
I didn’t think you’d grow to be who you are today.
With that crushing truth came something else: the overbearing weight of loneliness. I have lost a lot of people through death or otherwise, but I’ve lost people.
And then I had an epiphany: I wanted to be part of your life again.
And I wanted you to be part of mine.
Looking around the bar, I noted that Genma and the Yamanaka girl had left and that many stares of men were directed at you. I looked at you to see what it was they were looking at and then I realized: you were quite a beauty.
I’ve always seen the beautiful girl, but the beauty was on the inside; I’ve never noticed the beauty on the outside until now. Your inner beauty radiated through your being and it attracted many men. And as horrible as it may sound, but I am one of those men…and it sickened me.
I wanted her.
I wanted her.
I watched her as she took another sip from her cordial; her delicate pink lips melded into the shape of the glass and her ladylike posture drew me in. I couldn’t feel this way, it’s forbidden…right? Besides, I couldn’t risk losing another friend. If she became part of my life, she’d surely die, and that’s too much for me to bear.
“Sensei, I think I’m going to go home now,” she informed me, slapping down the money for her cordial next to the empty glass.
“Yes, I believe it’s getting quite late. Shall I walk you home?” I asked. A smile of acceptance appeared on her face and as I crinkled my eye in return, I found myself picturing that smile.
We exited the bar, much to the chagrin of the other men. They were hoping you’d leave, but with them, not me.
I pulled out my trusty Icha Icha book and began to read. It was at quite a steamy scene. The governmental head’s daughter is trying to seduce the protagonist, Koji, who is to bring her back safely, away from that lover of hers, who was the boss of the mob gang that is trying to overthrow the very government her father runs.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” she purred seductively. “My father would kill you if he found out…”
“Kakashi-sensei, don’t you ever read anything other than those books for fun?” questioned a voice to my left. Turning my head slightly, I see Sakura with a look of disapproval and annoyance.
“I’m sorry, Sakura. Forgive me and my poor taste in literature. Perhaps I should read those boring medical scrolls of yours?” I teased.
“They are not boring!” she retorted. “They are full of information which would benefit our health!”
“So what makes you think that my Icha Icha books aren’t full of information? It’s full of information that’s kept strictly to the bedroom,” I replied dryly.
A blush adorned her cheeks, which told me something: she was still innocent.
She was still a virgin.
The view of her apartment wasn’t too far now, and I noticed her speed slowing down the slightest bit. I arched my eyebrow a bit higher than usual.
“Sakura? Is something wrong?”
“No, not really,” she replied back, “it’s just…” Should I ask? But who am I to pry in her life? Maybe this is a step to get us on the track to being part of each other’s life again.
“It’s just…what?” I prompted her.
“It’s just that…it’s not exactly great to come home to an empty apartment, you know?”
Yes, I do know.
“Well, not really. I like my privacy. The only thing that isn’t great is that no one does your laundry or dusts your place while you’re gone.” Sakura tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out anyway.
“What? It’s true. I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to do my laundry.”
We stopped at the front of her door (I don’t even remember climbing the stairs), and she fished out her keys from her pocket.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ll come by your place to do your dusting,” she proposed, “but I can’t say the same for your laundry.”
I lifted my hand to give her a pat on her head as I used to do in her genin days, just to get her riled up, but my hand lingered in her silky pink tresses. I imagined those locks spread out on my pillow in the dim moonlight as I hunched over you to ---
No.
No! Stop thinking about it!
“I appreciate your generosity, but I wouldn’t want you to sneeze yourself to death,” I joked, smiling under my mask.
“Well, good night, sensei.”
“Good night.”
I watched her slender fingers slide the key into the lock and I shuddered. The key fit perfectly with the lock; a symbol of something else fitting perfectly into somewhere else, specifically, my something else fitting into her somewhere else. I turned my back, perform a few hand signs and disappeared into the night.
I reappeared in my bedroom and I plopped down onto the old bed I’ve had for awhile. I threw my book onto the little nightstand I had and closed my eyes. Why was I thinking of her? Why was Sakura haunting my every thought now? Was it regret for leaving her behind? Or, was it loneliness? The both of us have lost people, but we still have a few: I have Genma and she has Ino. I have other acquaintances and she has Tsunade. I have…who else do I have left?
Perhaps her calling me sensei is a blessing in disguise; it sets a clear boundary of where I stand. Although I push and bend boundaries as far as they could go, I don’t overstep them. That one word, sensei, is the only thing that keeps me from her, and I want to keep it that way. By pursuing a relationship with her, I’m only setting myself up for more pain. She could die, I could die, my career would be ruined, her reputation could be tarnished…these reasons should be enough to keep me away from her.
But they aren’t.
I can’t fall asleep now, so I made the mistake of picking up my book and continuing to read. After a few pages, I threw the book across the room in disgust. My books have betrayed me now. Instead of Koji, it would be me, and instead of a woman he was currently seducing or some other woman that was seducing him, it was Sakura. That particular scene I was finishing ended with Koji being the dominant lover, as it would happen in real life, seeing that Sakura hasn’t been doing any extracurricular activities.
With a sigh, I fall into a restless sleep, dreaming up a concoction of Icha Icha scenes starring Sakura and I.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
For the next few weeks, I’ve started to see her more often. I’d run into her at the supermarket or at the Holster, and she’d come to see me at my home after I return from missions.
Every time I saw her, she looked stunning, even in her medic uniform or her usual training outfit. Whenever she comes by to heal me, I strip down to my boxers and she examines me, locating the worst injuries and treating them immediately.
Every time I get hurt after a mission, she’s always ready to patch me back up. I savour the feel of her hands on my body, for I know that I can never reciprocate. That intimate feeling of her chakra flowing through my system to fix mild internal damage could set me on fire. Every time she sets a broken bone, I can feel my self control wane.
Usually, she heals me to her greatest ability, which varies, but not by much. She may have had a tiring day after the hospital, so she heals my wounds to the best of her abilities with what little chakra she has left. My wounds could be healed anywhere from 90% to 150%. I had to stop her on a few occasions to allow her a bit of strength to carry herself home and I reasoned with her that the human body can heal on its own, therefore she doesn’t need to waste more chakra on me.
After she’s done with me, I gently stand up and fill the sink with cold water, throwing in a few trays of ice cubes just for good measure. Soaking and wringing out a washcloth, I gently press it to my exposed flesh that wasn’t covered by bandages. That intimacy of her chakra almost touching mine felt so good, and it felt so warm and soothing upon entrance into my body. I needed something to cool down my hot flesh, and I couldn’t take a shower and let these fresh bandages go to waste.
I dipped the washcloth into the sink again and lightly wringed it out, just enough so there was still quite a bit of moisture in the cloth and it wasn’t dripping everywhere. I slapped it onto my neck and moved it around my chest, hoping to calm myself down.
Does she know what she’s doing to me?
Once the cloth got warm, I dipped it into the sink again and wringed it out. This time, a little bit of water dripped onto the floor, but that’s okay. I slapped it onto my thighs now and it felt good. I needed to stop thinking of her. I needed to stop feeling this.
But I couldn’t.
One night, I gave into an impulse. After another mission, she came by to heal me again. She must’ve had quite a day at the hospital, because she came by so weary, barely standing up. I told her to go home and rest and that I could tend my own wounds, but she refused. She’s so stubborn.
I intended to let her heal me and stop her when I felt her energy drain to almost nothing but I was distracted by the feel of her chakra soothing me. She was healing my back at the time. Before I knew it, she fell asleep and she collapsed onto me for support. Her head lolled on my shoulder, one arm was wrapped around my neck and the other was hanging loosely at the side.
“Thank you,” I whispered to her sleeping form. Checking myself over to see if any other injuries needed to be tended to, I gently rearranged her form to lie down on the couch and regain her strength. Afterwards, I trekked to the bathroom to relieve myself…but not in the usual way.
The feel of her chakra in my body was torture enough, but the feel of her front pressed to my back was too much. I was thankful that she didn’t witness me get aroused at her touch. That was sure to ruin the relationship we have between ourselves.
In my tiny bathroom were the essentials: a toilet, a sink and a shower. No, there isn’t a bathtub, and I installed the little mirrored cabinet over the sink myself. Standing in my little shower, I sat down against the corner where the door and the other glass wall met after I stripped off my boxers and freed myself from the dark confines. I was already at full attention, so this should be quick.
I wrapped my long, firm fingers around my arousal and began to pump. I closed my eyes and leaned back, imagining Sakura on my bed, waiting for me to take her. She was already so wet, and she was begging me to complete her.
I imagined myself slipping a finger inside of her tight walls, trying to loosen her up before the main event. She gasped and thrashed around; her hands were looking for something to clutch. As my long, slim finger pushed and pulled inside of her, my thumb made contact to a tiny little pearl that protruded from her folds. A strangled cry tore from her lips as she shuddered under my touch and more of her juices gushed out.
She was ready for the taking.
My hand kept pumping my length, a little faster now to create friction and make the illusion of the warm heat from her core. My hand tightened its grip and I felt the pressure build. Just a little more…just a little further…
I pulled the finger out and licked it clean and I can almost taste her and breathe in her sweet, feminine aroma. The thought of tasting her made my cock twitch; it wanted to really be inside of her.
My grip on my length tightened, almost to the point of pain. My hand was gliding smoothly along the shaft now, and a tiny bead of white began to collect at the tip. I’m so close…
I hunched over her and took hold of myself as I aligned myself to her opening. Slowly, I pressed myself against her and her walls opened up to me. There was a bit of resistance, but her tight canal loosened to accommodate me. Her canal sucked me in, and who was I to deny what her body wanted? I moved inside of her carefully so I wouldn’t hurt her; after all, she was a virgin. My pace began to increase and I began to thrust harder, up until the point where I was slamming into her.
A white flash passed behind my closed eyelids and the tension was released. My hand paused momentarily to allow my cock to jerk and spasm to release the pressure. I felt good, I felt exhausted…but worst of all, I felt dirty.
I tried to keep myself as quiet as possible, only letting out the quietest grunts and groans. I closed my eyes and focused on the girl asleep on the couch, and she was still fine. I turned the faucet on and washed away any evidence of my self indulgence.
I felt dirty. I was lusting after my own student, a young woman who wasn’t an adult in society’s eyes just yet. I knew I couldn’t have her, but I wanted her. I wanted her, and yet, I don’t want her near me. Those who are close to me died; Genma was somewhat an exception. He was just my drinking buddy, right? Damn…damn myself for wanting her. Damn myself for reading Jiraiya’s betraying books. Damn myself for being…me.
After my “cleansing ritual” and my personal reflection, I went to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat before going to bed. I put together a plate for her, just in case she gets hungry when she wakes up.
If I’m lucky, she will feel hungry…
And if I’m lucky, she’ll come to me to feed her.
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Next up: Envy
And, of course, facts may be changed and/or made up. Bear with me, all of my money’s tied to school, leaving nothing for my manga.
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Lust
I, Kakashi Hatake, am a great ninja. I am a great asset to the village of Konoha. Many know me to be many things: the Copy Ninja, the Sharingan Kakashi, leader of Team 7, late, Icha Icha fan…all of these things make up my identity. I am the man of 1000 jutsus, undoubtedly copied over many years, I have great self control, I always have the ever-present mask that hides my true face and I’ve had more than his fair share of loss…but underneath my battle-hardened façade is a man.
I trained a three-man team, as ordered by the Third Hokage. He felt that I have had to deal with too much grief over the years, and teaching the next generation of shinobi was what was supposed to be a break from the constant threat of death during dangerous missions. I didn’t find a team that seemed worthy enough to teach, but these three urchins passed my test.
I taught the container of the Kyuubi, Naruto Uzumaki, who left to train with the toad sage that happened to write the very books I love. This was quite a lucky break; now, I’d get advanced copies of Jiraiya’s books before they hit the bookstores, meaning that I wouldn’t have to fight my way through a demanding crowd (not that it was a challenge anyway).
I taught one of the last Uchihas, specifically, the one who didn’t murder his entire family and defected from his village to join a powerful organization of other missing-nins, Sasuke Uchiha. His avenging heart made him go to the snake sage, Orochimaru, for power. His only goals in life were to kill his brother, Itachi Uchiha, the responsible party for the murder of their family, and to restore his clan.
Then there was one more person; a girl. Her name was Sakura Haruno. I taught her, but I didn’t teach her much, for I left her on her own to turn my attention towards the boys. Eventually, she left to pursue an apprenticeship with the slug sage, Tsunade, the current Hokage with amazing medical abilities. Sakura left, but didn’t leave. Yes, she left me in favour of Tsunade, but she didn’t leave the village. She spends most of her time in the hospital, patching up wounded ninjas and sick civilians, and patching me up in the comfort of my home when I refused to go to the hospital. She didn’t leave like Naruto and Sasuke, she stayed right here.
I regret leaving her behind for the others, but now the tables have been turned.
She left me behind.
I don’t know how it happened, but it did. I looked at her one day, and I didn’t see the little girl I used to teach (or not teach); instead, I found a young woman. She stood strong with the knowledge of Tsunade vested in her, and she had perfect chakra control which was a useful skill in the medicinal field. She wasn’t the young, 12 year old girl anymore; she was a strong 17 year old.
I noticed her presence at the local bar favoured by shinobi one night, the Shuriken Holster. I presumed that she was out on a girls’ night out with her friends. Genma, my drinking buddy and subordinate, was quick to point them out to me. My eyes fell onto the young woman with the rose-coloured hair and the striking emerald eyes. She was quite lovely, I had to admit. I don’t remember growing up; when did she?
“Ladies, why don’t you come and join us?” invited Genma. “We’re all by ourselves over here!”
Sakura giggled and her party of women made their way over, slightly delayed by other men in the bar who stopped to compliment them. As she neared, I observed her discreetly; the black skirt hugged her hips and showed off her delectably toned thighs, her strappy black heels gave her some height, her pale pink halter showed off her slim waist and gave onlookers a small amount of cleavage…but it was tempting nonetheless.
I never thought that my former student would grow into the beautiful woman who stood before me.
Genma began to twirl one of her friends, the Yamanaka girl if I’m not mistaken. She giggled and tripped over her own feel and landed in Genma’s lap.
“My goodness, my dear,” he gushed, “I’ve never known you to be such a flirt, Ino.”
I rolled my eye and Ino laughed in her high pitched voice. It makes me wonder how many drinks she’s had since she walked in the door 10 minutes ago.
My vision rolled over to my right and away from the flirtatious couple to Sakura, who had sat down next to me and ordered a cherry cordial.
“Would you like some of my sake?” I offered. She shook her head politely.
“No thanks, Kakashi-sensei. I need to stay alert in case of an emergency at the hospital,” she explained to me.
“Sakura, I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” I gently reprimanded her. I silently admired her intentions of staying sober; she was helping the shinobi efforts in her own way.
“I can’t stop, sensei; it’s a force of habit. Anyways, why would you want me to stop? Doesn’t it give you the feeling of authority? Oh, thank you,” she said politely to the bartender that handed her the drink.
“Actually, it makes me feel old,” I reply.
She gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t think thirty-something is old, Kakashi-sensei. You’re not balding or gaining weight, though your hair is starting to grey…” she snickered.
“It’s not grey, it’s silver,” I corrected her nonchalantly.
“Grey.”
“Silver.”
“Grey.”
“Silver.”
“Silver.”
“See, I knew you’d agree with me,” I smirked, sipping my sake dish in victory.
“Rats, and you thought you were getting old. If you don’t fall for that trick, then you are definitely not old,” she joked.
I chuckled and pulled out my book. I could faintly hear a scoff of disapproval coming from my right. Times don’t change, do they?
As I pretended to read, my eye kept regarding her through the corner of my eye. She seemed to be lost in thought, taking a sip of her cherry cordial every now and then. She truly was a strong woman (and a beautiful one at that), always looking out for others and helping them. I felt a tiny swell of pride blossom in my chest, and then the crushing truth hit me:
I had no part in it.
I overlooked your potential. I ignored you in favour for the boys. I didn’t think you’d grow to be so…adult.
I didn’t think you’d grow to be who you are today.
With that crushing truth came something else: the overbearing weight of loneliness. I have lost a lot of people through death or otherwise, but I’ve lost people.
And then I had an epiphany: I wanted to be part of your life again.
And I wanted you to be part of mine.
Looking around the bar, I noted that Genma and the Yamanaka girl had left and that many stares of men were directed at you. I looked at you to see what it was they were looking at and then I realized: you were quite a beauty.
I’ve always seen the beautiful girl, but the beauty was on the inside; I’ve never noticed the beauty on the outside until now. Your inner beauty radiated through your being and it attracted many men. And as horrible as it may sound, but I am one of those men…and it sickened me.
I wanted her.
I wanted her.
I watched her as she took another sip from her cordial; her delicate pink lips melded into the shape of the glass and her ladylike posture drew me in. I couldn’t feel this way, it’s forbidden…right? Besides, I couldn’t risk losing another friend. If she became part of my life, she’d surely die, and that’s too much for me to bear.
“Sensei, I think I’m going to go home now,” she informed me, slapping down the money for her cordial next to the empty glass.
“Yes, I believe it’s getting quite late. Shall I walk you home?” I asked. A smile of acceptance appeared on her face and as I crinkled my eye in return, I found myself picturing that smile.
We exited the bar, much to the chagrin of the other men. They were hoping you’d leave, but with them, not me.
I pulled out my trusty Icha Icha book and began to read. It was at quite a steamy scene. The governmental head’s daughter is trying to seduce the protagonist, Koji, who is to bring her back safely, away from that lover of hers, who was the boss of the mob gang that is trying to overthrow the very government her father runs.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” she purred seductively. “My father would kill you if he found out…”
“Kakashi-sensei, don’t you ever read anything other than those books for fun?” questioned a voice to my left. Turning my head slightly, I see Sakura with a look of disapproval and annoyance.
“I’m sorry, Sakura. Forgive me and my poor taste in literature. Perhaps I should read those boring medical scrolls of yours?” I teased.
“They are not boring!” she retorted. “They are full of information which would benefit our health!”
“So what makes you think that my Icha Icha books aren’t full of information? It’s full of information that’s kept strictly to the bedroom,” I replied dryly.
A blush adorned her cheeks, which told me something: she was still innocent.
She was still a virgin.
The view of her apartment wasn’t too far now, and I noticed her speed slowing down the slightest bit. I arched my eyebrow a bit higher than usual.
“Sakura? Is something wrong?”
“No, not really,” she replied back, “it’s just…” Should I ask? But who am I to pry in her life? Maybe this is a step to get us on the track to being part of each other’s life again.
“It’s just…what?” I prompted her.
“It’s just that…it’s not exactly great to come home to an empty apartment, you know?”
Yes, I do know.
“Well, not really. I like my privacy. The only thing that isn’t great is that no one does your laundry or dusts your place while you’re gone.” Sakura tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out anyway.
“What? It’s true. I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to do my laundry.”
We stopped at the front of her door (I don’t even remember climbing the stairs), and she fished out her keys from her pocket.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ll come by your place to do your dusting,” she proposed, “but I can’t say the same for your laundry.”
I lifted my hand to give her a pat on her head as I used to do in her genin days, just to get her riled up, but my hand lingered in her silky pink tresses. I imagined those locks spread out on my pillow in the dim moonlight as I hunched over you to ---
No.
No! Stop thinking about it!
“I appreciate your generosity, but I wouldn’t want you to sneeze yourself to death,” I joked, smiling under my mask.
“Well, good night, sensei.”
“Good night.”
I watched her slender fingers slide the key into the lock and I shuddered. The key fit perfectly with the lock; a symbol of something else fitting perfectly into somewhere else, specifically, my something else fitting into her somewhere else. I turned my back, perform a few hand signs and disappeared into the night.
I reappeared in my bedroom and I plopped down onto the old bed I’ve had for awhile. I threw my book onto the little nightstand I had and closed my eyes. Why was I thinking of her? Why was Sakura haunting my every thought now? Was it regret for leaving her behind? Or, was it loneliness? The both of us have lost people, but we still have a few: I have Genma and she has Ino. I have other acquaintances and she has Tsunade. I have…who else do I have left?
Perhaps her calling me sensei is a blessing in disguise; it sets a clear boundary of where I stand. Although I push and bend boundaries as far as they could go, I don’t overstep them. That one word, sensei, is the only thing that keeps me from her, and I want to keep it that way. By pursuing a relationship with her, I’m only setting myself up for more pain. She could die, I could die, my career would be ruined, her reputation could be tarnished…these reasons should be enough to keep me away from her.
But they aren’t.
I can’t fall asleep now, so I made the mistake of picking up my book and continuing to read. After a few pages, I threw the book across the room in disgust. My books have betrayed me now. Instead of Koji, it would be me, and instead of a woman he was currently seducing or some other woman that was seducing him, it was Sakura. That particular scene I was finishing ended with Koji being the dominant lover, as it would happen in real life, seeing that Sakura hasn’t been doing any extracurricular activities.
With a sigh, I fall into a restless sleep, dreaming up a concoction of Icha Icha scenes starring Sakura and I.
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For the next few weeks, I’ve started to see her more often. I’d run into her at the supermarket or at the Holster, and she’d come to see me at my home after I return from missions.
Every time I saw her, she looked stunning, even in her medic uniform or her usual training outfit. Whenever she comes by to heal me, I strip down to my boxers and she examines me, locating the worst injuries and treating them immediately.
Every time I get hurt after a mission, she’s always ready to patch me back up. I savour the feel of her hands on my body, for I know that I can never reciprocate. That intimate feeling of her chakra flowing through my system to fix mild internal damage could set me on fire. Every time she sets a broken bone, I can feel my self control wane.
Usually, she heals me to her greatest ability, which varies, but not by much. She may have had a tiring day after the hospital, so she heals my wounds to the best of her abilities with what little chakra she has left. My wounds could be healed anywhere from 90% to 150%. I had to stop her on a few occasions to allow her a bit of strength to carry herself home and I reasoned with her that the human body can heal on its own, therefore she doesn’t need to waste more chakra on me.
After she’s done with me, I gently stand up and fill the sink with cold water, throwing in a few trays of ice cubes just for good measure. Soaking and wringing out a washcloth, I gently press it to my exposed flesh that wasn’t covered by bandages. That intimacy of her chakra almost touching mine felt so good, and it felt so warm and soothing upon entrance into my body. I needed something to cool down my hot flesh, and I couldn’t take a shower and let these fresh bandages go to waste.
I dipped the washcloth into the sink again and lightly wringed it out, just enough so there was still quite a bit of moisture in the cloth and it wasn’t dripping everywhere. I slapped it onto my neck and moved it around my chest, hoping to calm myself down.
Does she know what she’s doing to me?
Once the cloth got warm, I dipped it into the sink again and wringed it out. This time, a little bit of water dripped onto the floor, but that’s okay. I slapped it onto my thighs now and it felt good. I needed to stop thinking of her. I needed to stop feeling this.
But I couldn’t.
One night, I gave into an impulse. After another mission, she came by to heal me again. She must’ve had quite a day at the hospital, because she came by so weary, barely standing up. I told her to go home and rest and that I could tend my own wounds, but she refused. She’s so stubborn.
I intended to let her heal me and stop her when I felt her energy drain to almost nothing but I was distracted by the feel of her chakra soothing me. She was healing my back at the time. Before I knew it, she fell asleep and she collapsed onto me for support. Her head lolled on my shoulder, one arm was wrapped around my neck and the other was hanging loosely at the side.
“Thank you,” I whispered to her sleeping form. Checking myself over to see if any other injuries needed to be tended to, I gently rearranged her form to lie down on the couch and regain her strength. Afterwards, I trekked to the bathroom to relieve myself…but not in the usual way.
The feel of her chakra in my body was torture enough, but the feel of her front pressed to my back was too much. I was thankful that she didn’t witness me get aroused at her touch. That was sure to ruin the relationship we have between ourselves.
In my tiny bathroom were the essentials: a toilet, a sink and a shower. No, there isn’t a bathtub, and I installed the little mirrored cabinet over the sink myself. Standing in my little shower, I sat down against the corner where the door and the other glass wall met after I stripped off my boxers and freed myself from the dark confines. I was already at full attention, so this should be quick.
I wrapped my long, firm fingers around my arousal and began to pump. I closed my eyes and leaned back, imagining Sakura on my bed, waiting for me to take her. She was already so wet, and she was begging me to complete her.
I imagined myself slipping a finger inside of her tight walls, trying to loosen her up before the main event. She gasped and thrashed around; her hands were looking for something to clutch. As my long, slim finger pushed and pulled inside of her, my thumb made contact to a tiny little pearl that protruded from her folds. A strangled cry tore from her lips as she shuddered under my touch and more of her juices gushed out.
She was ready for the taking.
My hand kept pumping my length, a little faster now to create friction and make the illusion of the warm heat from her core. My hand tightened its grip and I felt the pressure build. Just a little more…just a little further…
I pulled the finger out and licked it clean and I can almost taste her and breathe in her sweet, feminine aroma. The thought of tasting her made my cock twitch; it wanted to really be inside of her.
My grip on my length tightened, almost to the point of pain. My hand was gliding smoothly along the shaft now, and a tiny bead of white began to collect at the tip. I’m so close…
I hunched over her and took hold of myself as I aligned myself to her opening. Slowly, I pressed myself against her and her walls opened up to me. There was a bit of resistance, but her tight canal loosened to accommodate me. Her canal sucked me in, and who was I to deny what her body wanted? I moved inside of her carefully so I wouldn’t hurt her; after all, she was a virgin. My pace began to increase and I began to thrust harder, up until the point where I was slamming into her.
A white flash passed behind my closed eyelids and the tension was released. My hand paused momentarily to allow my cock to jerk and spasm to release the pressure. I felt good, I felt exhausted…but worst of all, I felt dirty.
I tried to keep myself as quiet as possible, only letting out the quietest grunts and groans. I closed my eyes and focused on the girl asleep on the couch, and she was still fine. I turned the faucet on and washed away any evidence of my self indulgence.
I felt dirty. I was lusting after my own student, a young woman who wasn’t an adult in society’s eyes just yet. I knew I couldn’t have her, but I wanted her. I wanted her, and yet, I don’t want her near me. Those who are close to me died; Genma was somewhat an exception. He was just my drinking buddy, right? Damn…damn myself for wanting her. Damn myself for reading Jiraiya’s betraying books. Damn myself for being…me.
After my “cleansing ritual” and my personal reflection, I went to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat before going to bed. I put together a plate for her, just in case she gets hungry when she wakes up.
If I’m lucky, she will feel hungry…
And if I’m lucky, she’ll come to me to feed her.
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Next up: Envy