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frostmarris · 2 months ago

Note

Suspiciously plainly-titled KakuSaku (≖_≖) explain

I think I shared snippets in the AkaSaku server a while back when I started writing it!! An abandoned oneshot that I BELIEVE was supposed to have a??? magical girl or maybe demon Sakura in it, I can't remember exactly lmaoooo

Anyways, here's what I had written in it's entirety!

"Easy job, he said," Kakuzu growls under his breath, back pressed against the wall and his gun raised and ready. "Just in and out, he said. Just one guy, he said."

A bullet whizzes by his head as he just barely glances around the corner, his lip curled and his eye twitching as he jerks back. He's got one more clip before he's out of ammo and there's four assholes down the hall, waiting to blow his brains out. One of them, the beefy bald-headed guy, had already grazed his other soldier, but Kakuzu had fortunately already taken out three other goons. All he had to do now is get to the stairwell at the other end of the hall and down to the lobby.

Then he could go back to the base and break Hidan's nose.

The dickhead.

How the hell was seven assholes with guns in a decaying, abandoned hotel an easy job?

There's a muffled grunt down the hall and a chunk of the wall corner next to his head is suddenly blown away, shards of wood sent flying. A few hit his face, scratching up his cheek and forehead but, fortunately missing his eyes. Kakuzu growls again and quickly leans around the corner, catching sight of the shotgun that had just blasted the wall as he fired off three shots of his own. A vicious grin crosses his face as he gets one guy in the head, but he only manages to tag another in the leg. The other two, Beef and Shotgun, are quick to return fire and Kakuzu ducks back around the corner, grumbling as he drops the empty clip and loads up his last.

Definitely gonna break Hidan's nose.

The guy he'd hit in the leg is still shouting and wailing about all the blood he's losing, but, under his bitching, he can hear the other two reloading and decides to make a run for the stairs. As Kakuzu slides out, he pauses for the briefest moment, attention caught by a shock of red on the wall behind the men. It's extremely unlikely that the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall isn't expired, but he's willing to try anything if it means getting out of this dump alive. Quick to react, he raises his gun and aims, that grin returning as the bullet hits home and the extinguisher explodes into a massive cloud.

The remaining men shout and curse and Kakuzu turns on his heel, hightailing it down the hall and narrowly avoiding another bullet as it flies past his ear. He throws open the door to the stairwell and slides inside, slamming it shut behind him. He jumps the railing to drop down half a level, landing hard on his feet and grimacing at the way the the edge of a stair crumbles slightly underfoot. But, he doesn't have time to worry about that and takes off again, racing down the stairs but not risking jumping the rail again. He can hear the moment Beef and Shotgun burst through the door above, having seemingly left their remaining companion behind, and he curses under his breath.

Keeping his distance from the open middle of the stairwell, Kakuzu's glad to at least be two levels below them and not have to worry about getting shot. But there's still five more floors to go. The goons chasing him seem to have less qualms about risking the stability of the old stairs as he can hear the hard impact of them jumping and landing half a level down, three times in a row, and everything seems to shake slightly around him.

He manages to skid to a halt just as Beef lands in front of him, a grin on the big guy's face.

"End of the line, assh-"

There's an almost immediate rumble and the stairs shake for a moment before the ground opens up under the man and he falls down another floor, his eyes going comically wide as he cries out in surprise. Kakuzu doesn't have time to laugh, however, as Shotgun fires off, hitting the railing to his right and sending a few tiny bits of shrapnel flying. Cursing, he considers the goon-sized hole in front of him before sighing and jumping down, taking a bit of pleasure in the way he lands on the barely recovered Beef.

His weight sends the guy back down onto the ground and Kakuzu socks him in the face once, as payback for hitting his shoulder earlier, before hopping off of him and continuing down the last flight. He can hear him groaning in pain behind him and there's blood on his fist from he'd split the guy's lip, but Kakuzu is too concerned with making it down to the ground level. There's a chorus of curses and shouting behind him, but the door to the main floor is within sight and he barrels through it with a grin. He briefly considers finding some way to block the door behind him but decides to just get the fuck out of here and starts to race down the hall in search of the lobby and exit.

He can hear the moment the door is slammed open, a gruff, pissed off voice shouting after him, but turns a corner on the hall and enters the hotel lobby a moment later. The front doors are practically straight ahead and he can't wait to get out of this musty building and into the fresh air. Outrunning that big lug should be a br-

Something huge and heavy barrels into Kakuzu's back with a roar and tackles him to the ground.

Ah, the big meathead was faster than he seemed.

He narrowly avoids slamming his chin onto the ground, but his gun goes flying, skidding across the grimy tile floor and stopping a good 4 feet away from him. Now, Kakuzu himself is a fairly large man, but this guy is ridiculous and he's pretty sure he might be crushed if he doesn't get out from under him. He grunts and tries to squirm free, but Beef sits up, a knee digging into spine and a gun pressed to the back of his skull.

"Y'fucking broke my nose, dickhead," He growls before turning his head and spitting a mouthful of blood off to the side. Kakuzu goes still as he presses the barrel a little harder against his head, watching the blood seep down an open crack in one of the tiles.

"Now, I really wanna just smash your skull open," Kakuzu rolls his eyes. "But if you hand over that little trinket the dumbass up on the 9th floor gave you, then I'll make it nice and quick and just blow your brains out."

Right, easy job. Just go to the dump of a hotel, meet Hidan's contact, get whatever goods it was that the Boss wanted, then return to the base.

Easy.

Granted, Kakuzu hadn't been expecting some weird necklace with a…- bone? Or was it ivory? - medallion.

"Now, hand it over, freak."

Kakuzu opens his mouth to respond, but then the ground seems to tremble beneath them. They both tense, that knee digging into his back a little deeper as Beef sits up and looks around. The distraction is all he needs though and Kakuzu twists under him, managing to roll over enough to punch the goon in the throat. The gun goes off but just grazes his arm - the same damn arm - and Beef reels backwards, choking and trying to catch his breath. It's enough for Kakuzu to pull his knees up to his chest and then kick out, boots impacting the larger man in the center of his chest to send him flying backwards.

#thirrinwrites #kakusaku #even tho i never got to sakura lol #thirrinanswers #thirrinwip

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frostmarris · 2 months ago

Note

WIP: "fae2electricboogaloo"? 🤣🤣 (Fantastic name, btw)

Color me interested; what is *that* about???

It's a (potential) sequel to my ShiSaku Rodeo Lunar New Year gift, upheaved and beholden! I had some major insp for a continuation shortly after posting it, but only managed to write out one small snippet before a hard writers block hit haha

He forgets, sometimes, while staring into those pure green eyes and running his fingers through her petal-pink hair, that she's not fae like him That she doesn't belong here. There's no changing the promise he's made her. Shisui is bound to the oath he's made, no matter how desperately he wishes he could break his vow. He'd gladly take it all back, even if it meant she'd hate him until her dying breath. He'd happily accept her ire and covet her fury, if it meant he'd never have to lose her. (Wouldn't he?)

#shisaku #thirrinwrites #thirrinwip #thirrinanswes

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frostmarris · 1 year ago

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Reverence

ItaSaku - Religious/Cult Horror | Gods & Demons

summary: Sing once again for me, sweet Nightingale. Your voice is honey, your blood is wine, your cage is golden, your soul is mine.

pairing: Itachi/Sakura

rating: M (Technically T but a potential second chapter will make it M ahdkfns)

additional tags/content warning: Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Body Horror, Gore, a Demonic God or a God that's actually a Demon, Sacrificial Brides

notes: Sakura is raised by a cult to unknowingly be a sacrificial bride to their dark God who might actually be a demon. But now God's pissed.

Inspired by @kimazuiiii 's beautiful artwork of Sakura's official The Priestess tarot card design! I asked her to pick a ship and she said ItaSaku since it was his bday (this is very late)

They'd told her parents that the murder of crows that had gathered in that old wisteria on the night of her birth had been a sign from God.

(Specifically, their God.)

And they'd told her that, upon learning of the divine omen, her parents had readily given her up to the Watchers of Scoria when the congregation returned, three years later.

But, Sakura had her doubts.

#itasaku #itachi/sakura #sakura fic #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #itasaku fic

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frostmarris · 1 year ago

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red dawn daffodils

mermaid au | AkaSaku

[Chapter 2] Captivity - Part 1: Glass Coffin

"Never speak in front of a human. The moment one realizes it is not the only intelligent creature, it becomes infinitely more dangerous.

So hide your fangs, bite your tongue, and swallow your pride. Give nothing away."

There's something tickling her face.

Sakura groans, her head aching and her joints stiff, and groggily opens her eyes, blinking slowly at the sight of a clownfish floating just above her nose. It's inspecting her curiously, blowing bubbles at her, and she takes a moment to gather herself before letting out a slow sigh of relief.

Just a bad dream.

A really bad dream.

Only, when she tries to stretch out her tail and her arms with a tired yawn, she can feel something cold and perfectly smooth rub against her scales and skin. She pauses, a sinking feeling growing in her belly, and looks up at the clownfish once more, the little fish hurrying away as it is startled by her movement. Sakura's gaze travels higher still, finally focusing after a moment.

She's staring up, not at open ocean above her, or swaying kelp, or even stone and rock. Instead, her gaze is pinned to wooden planks, something she'd only ever seen while scavenging the sunken ships.

#akasaku #thirrinwrites #gotta get through this arc and then its akasaku time babeeyyy #thirrinfic #🌊#sakura haruno fic #sakura centric

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frostmarris · 1 year ago

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blood pact

ShiSaku Week Day 4: Magic

summary: Shisui's simple ritual turns complicated when a summoning goes horribly wrong.

rating: T

additional tags: Non-descript Magical World AU, Demon Summoning & Mages, Vampires, Shisui gets scaroused

notes: I'm v behind on the other stuff I wanna write for the week but we'll see if I get to it all shdkfjsk

The candles, all of varying heights but made of the same dark red wax, blow out simultaneously, sending the room into complete darkness. The thin trails of smoke rising up from the wicks are soon joined by an odd fog that seems to emanate from the center of his summoning circle, spreading out from the main rune to reach over the various lines and markings. The fog drifts between the candles, crawling across the stone floor at a leisurely pace and it's then that he realizes his eyes haven't just adjusted to the darkness.

There's light coming from the fog.

It's a strange shade of green, swampy and dull but just bright enough for him to watch clearly as the fog begins to bubble and boil, festering in the center of the circle like dry ice.

Shisui holds his breath, leaning forward from his place just outside the ring of candles. One hand grips the garnet dagger, his fist curled tight around the leather wrap on the hilt, while the other is braced against his knee. He's already wrapped a bandage around his free hand, but the cut he'd made across his palm had been a touch too deep and his blood continues to seep into the gauze. But, that's an issue he'll have to deal with later-

Something was answering his call.

There's little warning before that something bursts through the bubbling fog, the sickly green light growing brighter and a crack of thunder echoing through the room. It's a huge, monstrous arm, completely covered in a strange black ooze that drips down into the boiling smoke, accented each time with a little hiss and sizzle. It reaches straight up into the air, large, clawed fingers curled and wicked, before the hand flexes slowly.

Shisui jumps as it swings forward, slamming down just outside the pit and reaching towards him.

#ShiSakuWeek2023 #ShiSaku Rodeo #shisaku #shisui/sakura #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #i cant NOT write a sakura who tops shisui

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frostmarris · 1 year ago

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summary: Eyes like sea glass, hair like coral, teeth like blades - a heart full of all the righteous fury of an ocean tempest. There are few things more dangerous than a mermaid that's been wronged.

pairing: Akatsuki/Sakura, (slight one-sided /sasusaku, but this isn't an ss fic)

raiting: M

additional tags: MerMay, historical fantasy AU, pirates, found family, plenty of gore

notes: Been collabing with @kimazuiiii and @fernybee-art for a MerMay Sakura AkaSaku story/project, and here's the fic I've written for it! I've become so obsessed with this au hehe

Enjoy!

Light filters into the grotto, slowly and gently creeping over the edge of the high, high walls until the beams reach down to touch the bed of soft sea-grass down below. The grass, arm-long and deep green, waves and sways in a soft current, catching the sunlight and creating a soft shimmer that moves from one edge of the bed to the other, up and over the mound in the middle. Bubbles occasionally drift up from that middle spot, the sea floor raising in a soft hill that slopes gently before evening out, and the swaying grass moves a little differently here, something hidden in the patch.

The beams of daylight reach further down through the water, brightening the grotto as the sun, so far far above, reaches its peak in the sky. The light threads between the swaying grass to catch on pink lashes, warming her cheek and shoulder as the girl lays on her side, curled up and napping peacefully. Her eyebrows furrow as the sunlight reaches her face, shining behind her closed eyes, beckoning her to wake up, and, after a few short moments, Sakura yawns and rolls onto her back. She stretches, her arms reaching up above her. Her fingers just barely reach past the tall grass surrounding her and the light catches on the emerald green scales that cover her limbs - from the tips of her clawed fingers to her shoulders - and the fins of her tail, a soft, pale green that fades to yellow with the subtlest iridescent shimmer, reaches out past the seagrass as well.

#akasaku #multisaku #sakura centric #sakura fanfic #akasaku fanfic #akatsuki/sakura #mermay #thirrinwrites

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frostmarris · 3 years ago

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On the Shore

Kisame/Sakura, subtle/implied Zabuza/Sakura and Kakashi/Sakura - Fantasy AU

summary: The mist always brings strange things.

notes: for flowergirl for the Haruno Sakura Server's Annual Holiday Gift Exchange!! Some spooky magical nonsense lol

I'll be posting a draw to go with it in a moment!

: :

When the mist rolled across the lake, it always brought strange things with it.

Once, it had been a small boat. Nothing more than a tiny rowboat - the oars had been missing and there was no way to anchor it, so they'd been forced to wade out into the cold water and pull it ashore. They'd found a child curled up in the hull, clutching a blanket that shimmered under the light of their lanterns, the colors of the winter lights dancing across the fabric every time it moved. Long dark hair and snowflakes in his lashes, a timid voice and wide eyes that seemed to read into their souls.

Another time, there had been fire. Bright flames that refused to stay a single color, skittering across the calm waters of the lake and always remaining just out of reach. Fairie lights, he'd heard the elders murmur to each other. Kisame had managed to catch one, much to the shock of the other children, and he'd expected the flame to burn his hands. Instead, he'd only felt warmth and affection, spreading through him from the tips of his fingers to his very core. It had flickered yellow, then blue, a brilliant white, and then disappeared, the warmth in his hands remaining for several hours.

A sea serpent with scales like diamonds, cranes with feathers made of ice, a koi the size of a tree, a deep black cloak that'd they'd mistaken as oil until one boy had plucked it from the waters, a silver bell that - when rung - could be heard for miles... Gifts that remained in the water disappeared shortly after, never seen again and remaining only as stories and sightings, regaled over the dinner table or amongst friends. Those that were pulled from the lake, coveted and desired and loved and cherished, always stayed. The boy had grown into a young man, prettier than many of the local girls; the bell was placed in the town center, rung whenever the mist arrived; and Kisame's friend still wore the cloak which never frayed or tore no matter what trouble they'd got themselves into.

The mists came less and less frequently over the years. The last one had been over eight months ago and had brought gemstones, tiny and opalescent, ashore. No one in town had seen the arrival and they'd all thought that the mist had been a fluke, the first time in the history of the lake that nothing came from the water. But then, with the light of the next morning, they'd found the stones amongst the sand and rock of the lakeshore. Everyone had gone home with a handful, some pieces set into jewelry or locked away with other treasures.

Kisame kept one in his pocket for luck, occasionally reaching a hand into his jacket to make sure it was still there and run his fingers over the smooth surface.

: :

He was in the woods when he heard the bell ringing.

The tone, deep and melodic despite the silver bell being no larger than a tea kettle, carried through the trees and canopy of leaves, echoing around Kisame and making him glance up with a start. Task forgotten, he shouldered his rifle and began to hurry back to town, his heart pounding as his brisk walk evolved into a sprint. He ran across the open field of tall grass, the blades reaching up to his waste and waving in the wind like the waters of the lake. It wasn't the season for wildflowers and the air was cold with the coming winter, his breath apparent as puffs of white as he raced home.

He saw others running back to town as well. Some stopping in the middle of fieldwork or children cutting their games short as all rushed to the lake on the other side of town, the mists already reaching land. Kisame avoided carts and stragglers, wisps of mist reaching between buildings like curious fingers as it brought the usual darkness with it, and cut through an alley to heave himself up and over a brick wall before dropping down on the otherwise. His boots landed heavily on the cobblestone and he paused only a moment before he continued on, the stonework soon giving way to grass as he left the town itself and joined the growing sea of curious townsfolk as they approached the shore. The sky grew dark the closer to the lake he came as the heavy clouds blocked the sun, making everything seem dull and gray.

The people spread out, scattered around the lake's edge. Some of the more adventurous already stood shin-deep in the cold water as they tried to see through the heavy mist as it rolled in while others stayed on the pebble and sand of the bank, all waiting with bated breaths to see what would arrive.

Kisame wandered along the edge, well-aware that the gifts never came from the same place, and occasionally passed a neighbor or two, eyes never leaving the still waters. The air was quiet save for a few whispers and a breeze rustling rustling leaves of the sparse trees dotted around the lake and he found himself a fair distance from the town's edge, the lanterns and lights of the buildings and homes just a faint glow in the fog. There was a tension he could taste, heavy on his tongue, as he knew that some townsfolk sought competition in the mists, waiting to claim whatever gift the waters brought ashore.

(His friend was quite proud of one of the diamond scales he'd salvaged from the sand and Kisame himself kept a never-melting ice feather on his mantle.)

There was an exclamation from one of the trees nearby and Kisame glanced up to see one of the local boys in the branches, clutching the trunk as he pointed out into the mist. Those who'd gotten the same idea as Kisame to spread out all looked to the lake, breaths held until the bow of a boat pierced the fog. There was a chorus of sighs when they realized it's just one of the locals' fishing boats and people dispersed, continuing to wander the sjore or head back towards the town as they searched the mist. Kisame, however, remained, raising a hand in greeting as he realized it was Zabuza's boat.

His hand lowered slightly as his friend came into view, the rowboat still drifting towards the shore but the man's back to Kisame as he faced the way he'd come. One hand clutched the gunwale, knuckles white and gripping the wood edge, while his other hand delicately held a yellow rose. That black cloak sat high on his shoulders, nearly cutting off Kisame's view of the flower. Zabuza stared into the thick mist behind his boat, barely moving, and Kisame felt his breath catch in his chest again as he waited, only the two of them left now.

Spots of yellow began to appear on the water's surface. More roses, Kisame realized, all floating peacefully towards the shore. They seemed to be normal flowers, but he still found himself setting his rifle down and stepping into the lake, his boots thick and tall enough that he couldn't feel the chill as the water reached his ankles. His eyes were on the roses as they drifted towards him, but he spotted Zabuza stiffen in his peripheral and his head snapped up, shoulders tensing as a new color peeked through the mist.

Pink joined the dots of yellow and Kisame assumed it was simply more flowers. But, he soon realized it was most definitely not roses and stared wide-eyed as a person appeared through the mist, floating amongst the blossoms. He and Zabuza were both frozen in place, watching the unconscious woman as her body slowly drifted with the subtle current, the dark blue fabric of her gown blending in with the water. There was a beat before Kisame found himself hurrying forward. Ankle deep in the lake, then knee- waist- chest- wading through the water towards the pink-haired woman as she floated a yard or so away from Zabuza's boat. Kisame heard a splash as he neared her and was soon joined by his friend, the mist thickening around them. Yellow roses bumped against Kisame and drifted away, caught in the small waves his movement in the water produced until, finally, she was within reach.

He hesitated.

Her hair, petal pink even while soaked through, haloed her head while that dress, a deep, rich blue, spotted with white, glowing pearls that Kisame mistook at first as starlight, spread out around her legs, ruffled and feathering under and across the surface of the water. The deep plunge of the dress' neckline brought warmth to his face and had Kisame looking elsewhere, gaze traveling along the billowing sleeves to her delicate hands then back up. Her face was pale and flushed, pointed towards the dark sky and obviously lovely even though she was upside down to his view, with droplets caught in her pink lashes and brows. Her eyes were closed but her expression was peaceful, as if she were only sleeping, and finally, gently, Kisame reached out, gathering her in his arms as he waded back towards the shore. Zabuza, his boat forgotten, followed close behind, helping to make sure she never dipped below the water's surface, until they reached the bank.

Kisame could feel her breathing against his arms and she was warm despite the icy bite of the water, much to his relief. Once he could feel pebbles and sand under his boots again, he pulled her into a more secure embrace, carrying her in his arms as he rose out of the water. The dress was heavier than he was expecting, especially since it was soaked through, but nothing would pull her from his arms.

They'd obviously been spotted in the water as a small crowd had gathered nearby, quietly murmuring amongst themselves as they watched Kisame carry the mysterious woman out of the lake. She shivered in his arms once they were on land to Zabuza appeared at his side, his cloak already removed, always dry and untouched by the water, and he helped Kisame wrap it around her as her breaths appeared in puffs a white, similar to their own. He felt her shift and he paused, watching her face intently as her eyes slowly opened and she stared up at him.

Brilliant green, sparkling like gemstones, glanced between his face and Zabuza's, confused and lost.

: :

She couldn't remember much from before she woke up in his arms.

It wasn't too surprising. Haku couldn't remember anything from where he came from or how he'd ended up in that boat, even all these years later. It was extremely rare that a person came from the mists but, from all the instances throughout the history of the town, not one of them had memories of their previous lives. They came mostly as blank slates, with only their names and whatever the water brought with them.

Sakura.

There were several cherry blossom trees in town, mostly in gardens and the communal park, and he could easily liken her hair to blooming flowers. Surely wherever she came from had the same trees, even if it was a strange land of sea serpents and frozen cranes.

It was a full day before she spoke, those wide green eyes hesitant and suspicious of everyone that flocked to her, all so curious to see what the mist had brought. Several townsfolk, a few of the elders and some kindly mothers, offered to take her in and give her a home, but she'd clung to Kisame's arm and refused to leave his presence, her gaze wary. She only seemed tolerant of Kisame and Zabuza and, after the fog had disappeared and the sky was bright and sunny again, she finally told them her name. Her voice was soft, more confused than frightened, and they spoke gently to her, asking questions and trying to decipher her mysterious past until she eventually became frustrated with the gaps in her memories.

When her tears hit the wooden top of his old dining table, they clinked and clattered, transformed into glowing pearls that rolled across the grain to tumble to the floor.

They'd stared, all three shocked, until Sakura hesitantly gathered a few pearls, shining like fallen stars, in her hands and fell silent.

Kisame and Zabuza vowed to keep it secret.

: :

The mist returned only three weeks later.

He'd been in the middle of preparing dinner, a pot of water and pasta simmering on the stove and the kitchen smelling of garlic and tomatoes. Sakura was at the table, hemming one of the dresses his neighbor had given her-

(The blue gown wasn't practical for everyday use and while his shirts were big enough to be a dress on her smaller frame, she needed actual clothes of her own.)

-while she waited. While her memories of her life were missing, it seemed knowledge and skills remained and Sakura had turned out to be quite the seamstress. She'd already stitched an old rip in one of his coats and he'd been more than happy to bring her some finer threads at her sheepish request, a fluttering in his heart when he'd found the small embroidered designs on a few of his shirt collars.

Kisame had been absentmindedly brushing his thumb over the sailing ship on his collar when he'd heard the bell. Sakura glanced up, eyes full of confusion as he hurriedly turned off the stove and moved the pan of sauce off the heat. He realized then that he'd never told her what the bell meant and, a little flustered, he quickly explained.

"The mist is back," He repeated, grabbing a lantern and a coat that was only a little too big for her, "Let's go see what it's brought."

Sakura seemed... hesitant. But, at seeing the excitement in his gaze, she set down her needle and thread and stood, letting Kisame help her into the coat before following after him as more townsfolk hurried out of their homes and into the evening. The warm light of the setting sun soon disappeared in the mist and clouds and Kisame nearly tripped when he felt her slip her delicate hand into his, his face warming with a flush. He smiled down at Sakura, but she was peering into the mist, her eyebrows furrowed by her thoughts.

By the time they made it to the edge of the lake, the sky was dark and only the light of swinging lanterns broke the curtain of fog. Kisame felt a weight land on his shoulder and glanced over to see Zabuza, his hair wet and his clothing haphazard. There were a few lingering suds behind his ear and Kisame couldn't help but laugh, any water that dripped onto that black cloak simply rolling off.

"Were you in the middle of a shower, Zabuza? That's some rotten timing, huh?"

His friend grimaced at his taunting, but the sound of his name had Sakura glancing up, a bright smile appearing on her face. If the sudden hug she gave Zabuza left his cheeks flushing, Kisame fortunately kept his teasing to himself.

The three walked along the shore, eyes on the lake and lanterns held aloft as they searched for what strange beast or gift the mist had brought this time.

He startled when he heard the first howl.

It came from somewhere in the distance, echoing through the still air before silence returned once more. It returned a few moments later, and again and again, progressively getting closer until Kisame could hear someone shout in the distance. It went on for several minutes, a howl and a shout, someone spotting something in the mist somewhere along the lake's shore until, finally, he heard the sound of water splashing.

Kisame held his lanterns higher and the flame caught something through the fog. A glimmer, a flash of light, caught in the eyes of something in the mist. They paused in their aimless walking across the pebbles and sand and watched as the light caught again, the splashing closer now, until a shape emerged through the mist.

The silver-white of the wolf's coat camouflaged it well, helping it hide in the fog, but there was no obscuring that red eye. The beast stood on the water's surface, at least thirty feet out from the shore and much larger than an average wolf. It stared at the trio as it took another handful of steps forward, remaining a fair distance away as the distant sound of voices carried through the air.

Kisame felt Sakura's grip on his hand tighten and then go slack, her hand slipping out of his own. He glanced down at her, concerned, and found her staring ahead at the beast, an odd look in her eyes. Whether it was worry or recognition, he couldn't tell.

When he glanced back up, the wolf's position had changed. It sat calmly on the surface of the lake, as if the lake were solid stone, and, deep down, Kisame knew it wasn't looking at them, but at Sakura.

He looked to her once more, only to find that she'd left, her back disappearing in the mist on the store as she headed back into town without a word.

The wolf was gone when he looked back to the lake.

: :

Days later, Kisame woke with a start to the sound of a haunting howl.

He bolted upright in bed, heart pounding, and was silent for a few long moments, listening intently. The only sound he heard for the next fifteen minutes or so was that of the evening breeze rustling the curtains through his open window and the leaves swaying down below. With his bedroom on the second floor, he was unconcerned with leaving the window open and, when the night remained silent for another ten minutes, he let out a breath and laid back down, returning to sleep.

He awoke to a howl again some time later and this time, when he sat upright with his heart pounding and a cold sweat on his brow, he saw the wolf.

It stood next to his open window, so much larger this close, with the moonlight shining off that silver-white fur. Kisame felt his breath catch, ice gripping his heart as he found himself unable to move. The beast stared at him, that red eye glowing in the darkness, until the breeze returned and his curtains fluttered in the wind, obscuring his view of the creature entirely.

The next thing he knew, Kisame had been shoved down, a boot on his chest and a man with wild silver hair standing over him. He stared down at him with a familiar red eye, his expression grim and unreadable.

"Don't let her return."

Kisame blinked and the weight on his chest was immediately missing, the man gone without another sound.

He wasted no time in rushing out of bed, stumbling slightly as his sheets tangled with his legs as he threw open the door to his room and hurried down the hall. He slammed the door to Sakura's room open in his effort to rush inside and she sat up in bed with a shout, green eyes wide and frightened, and then confused, as she clutched a hand to her chest.

Kisame was filled with relief. After apologizing profusely and satisfying her questions, he returned to his own room, making sure to close and lock his window before laying back down in bed.

He didn't get much more sleep that night, the stranger's words repeating in his mind like a warning and plaguing his thoughts like a dark omen.

: :

The mist returned four times more over the winter.

Kisame felt his anxiety grow each time he heard the bell ring, his stomach in knots and his heart pounding even though he couldn't resist his curiosity. Sakura joined him each time and he never strayed far from her, clutching her small hand in his own and calmed only when she pressed against his side or clung to his arm. There was no more howling, but he swore he saw red out of the corner of his eye occasionally while he was out in town or out hunting in the woods.

Sakura was a constant in his life, her touch and her warmth a cherished gift in its own right. She shed pearls only a handful of times more - when she'd accidentally burned herself with the kettle, when one of their elderly neighbors passed, when they'd found an injured bird in the garden - and Kisame kept them locked away, wary of any of the townsfolk finding her secret and trying to take advantage of it.

Once, just weeks ago when Kisame gifted her a new sewing set and more fabric and thread than he could ever know what to do with, he'd been granted the opportunity to see what her joy could produce.

Her embrace was fire, spreading warmth throughout him as the sound of her laughter made his heart pounding in his ears. Happy tears rolled down her cheeks and, when they landed in the grass in the garden, they didn't find glowing pearls but, instead, tiny, perfect gems. More brilliant and dazzling than anything he'd ever seen in a jeweler's shop, with veins of pure gold running through their shining surfaces. They glowed gold, rather than white like the pearls, and Sakura seemed just as shocked as he did as they gathered the stones in their palms.

They were locked away with her other tears, but, knowing how they came to be, Kisame decided he wouldn't mind seeing more of them in the future.

He always found himself thinking of that locked box, tucked away under a loose floorboard, whenever the mists returned. He'd always known that the mist produced creatures and items that surely shouldn't be real, but surely the land they came from must have been even more fantastical than his wildest dreams if its people could create snow or turn into animals or make precious gemstones with their tears.

Surely it was a land that Sakura would want to return to.

(The thought always wrapped his heart in ice, his fingertips numb and his chest heavy just the idea of her leaving.)

A tree branch made of pure gold but light as a feather, a bear made of mist itself that swam through the water but never touched the shore, a candle with a blue flame carried by a floating lantern. Innocuous gifts with no true rhyme or reason. The bear had lingered for about twenty minutes before disappearing moments before the mist dispersed and the innkeeper, who'd found the candle, had hung the lantern outside the inn's door. He wasnt sure who had claimed the gold branch, it was likely hung over someone's mantle.

Kisame was in the woods again when he heard the bell that fourth time.

The other three times it had been early in the morning or late in the evening, all times when he was at home with Sakura and could accompany her to the lake.

Ice gripped his beard once more and he broke out into a sprint towards town.

He couldn't hear it at first, too distant and soft for him to notice over the sound of his pounding heart and his panting, but, as he reached town, he could hear something else amongst the deep ringing of the silver bell. It was a voice, singing a wordless, haunting melody, echoing through the buildings as it rode the mist through town.

Kisame didn't realize his pace had slowed until he found himself standing still in front of his house, his expression calm and his thoughts distant as he listened.

When he managed to pull himself from his daze, he realized the door to his home stood wide open.

He pushed himself to run, to hurry as he headed for the lake, passing townsfolk who stood still and unmoving, listening to the singing voice with glazed eyes and numb expressions.

When he made it to the lake, he was met with the rare sight of an empty shore.

But, for the first time in his memories, the mist had not arrived on calm waters. A storm was growing over the lake, lightning flashing in the clouds overhead and water turbulent with rolling waves, the fog thick and overwhelming as that singing voice filled his head once more. Kisame's gaze traveled slowly, his mind not processing what he saw until his eyes landed on pink and he stumbled forward with a start.

Sakura was at the edge of the water, boarding a silver gondola and taking the hand of cloaked figure. The silver hood obscured the face of the figure, but Kisame could see their mouth, open and moving as they sang and helped Sakura aboard, the long handle of their oar clutched in their free hand.

Kisame cried out her name, the weight in his chest growing heavier, and she paused, glancing back towards him. Her face was confused and frightened and she glanced around as if she didn't know where she was, looking to Kisame as tears rolled down her cheeks and pearls landed in the sand. But then the singing surged, as if spurned on by her distraction and her eyes went white, a calm expression taking the place of her fear.

Sakura turned away from him and, under the voice's thrall, took a seat in the boat.

He had to force his body to move, finding himself slowing and stopping again and again as he fought whatever power the singing had, until he finally reached the water. The gondola was a fair distance away by now but he could still see the pink of her hair through the mist. The chill of the water kept him distracted from the voice as he rushed forward, into the water and fighting the wild waves of the lake as thoughts and memories raced through his mind-

(Her embrace, her hand in his own, dinners together, a kiss under the stars, her fingers tracing old scars,, her laugh, her eyes, a warmth in his heart he'd never experienced)

-keeping his focus on his goal of reaching her. The boat seemed unaffected by the stormy waters and traveled deeper into the mist, growing further and further away from Kisame as he became more and more desperate and frightened.

Twice he lost sight as he was pulled under by the force of the storm, the water crashing over head and ice surrounding him until he broke through the surface once more, sputtering and coughing as he heaved mouthfuls of water and called out Sakura's name.

With a third time, she was lost.

Kisame managed to break through the water once more, but was filled with horror as he realized he could no longer see her, eyes searching the rolling water and the thick mist desperately for the silver boat or the pink of her hair. He could still barely hear the singing, somewhere in the distance and growing further and further away until it suddenly stopped. He felt his heart drop and was dragged back under the water by another crashing wave.

This time, he thought he might drown as he struggled to find the surface and fight the current, his chest burning now as he couldn't breathe.

But, just as dark spots were dancing on the edges of his vision, he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and heave him out of the water. Kisame was tossed over the side of a boat, coughing up icy water and gasping for air. When he glanced up, he saw Zabuza, oars in hand and his expression concerned and grim as he watched him, soon helping to drag Kisame fully into his boat. He saw a flash of silver-white out of the corner of his eye and turned to see that strange man, standing on the surface of the water. A thick wisp of fog rolled between them and, when it cleared, the wolf stood in his place.

Without a word, the beast began heading forward into the mist.

Another look at Zabuza told Kisame everything he needed to know and he nodded, settling in the boat as his heavy heart yearned and worried, that last look on Sakura's face burned into his mind they followed the wolf across the lake and into the storm.

Never before had something from the mist returned to the mist. And never had any of the townsfolk dared to venture into it.

But, it seemed there was a first time for everything.

#multisaku #kisasaku #haruno sakura #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #haruno sakura server gift exchange 2021 #slight zabusaku and kakasaku

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frostmarris · 4 years ago

Text

Jailbreak

KakaSaku, KisaSaku, ShikaSaku - Fantasy Au

summary: A witch, a knight, a dog trainer, and an apprentice mage. Great minds think alike.

notes: gift fic for petrikore for the Sakura Haruno discord server's 6 month anniversary exchange!

there's uh,,, a lot more lore and world building that I thought up that I didn't end up including in the fic lol. Maybe I'll continue one day?

Enjoy!

: :

The hall is silent except for the crackling of flames and the whispers of onlookers. The torches perched equidistant along the polished stone walls of the grand hall hold their flickering fires behind fine metal cages, twisting and curled in elegant loops that glow red when kissed by the flames. The court is full, fine silks and satins and lace and pearls crowded together between the towering columns that lined either side of the main path from the entrance to the throne. The noblemen and women keep clear of wide path, necks craving to see over each other and the occasional muffled tap of tailored shoes against marble floor joining the crackling and whispers. Royal guards are placed periodically down the sides of the wide walkway to hold the line, either to keep the members of the court back or to protect them from something else.

All eyes are on the pair of grand doors opposite of the throne, the carved wood aged but well-maintained and the metal lining reflecting the light of the torches. Dancing shadows are cast over the painted carvings of forest creatures - foxes chasing rabbits, a mother doe grazing with a fawn, wolves running as a pack, birds soaring overhead, a hunting party on horseback following a lone stag. In the center, standing atop a green hill, every blade of grass meticulously carved, is a white silhouette of a strange beast - the single horn in the center of its forehead pointing to the heavens and touching a fallen star. The paint and carvings mimic the light radiating from the star, stretching out over the other creatures and bathing them in its ethereal glow.

A chorus of footfalls grows steadily louder from behind the carved wood and the whispers fall silent, leaving only the crackling flames to accompany the low groan of the old doors as the unicorn is split in twain.

The metallic ringing of armor scraping against armor and the sturdy thuds of leather boots against the marble floor soon drowned out the flames, but the entourage of royal guardsmen is ignored in favor of the woman trapped in the center of the pack. Two men stand on either side of her, just a step behind, with their hands on their hilted swords and their keen gazes never leaving her profile. Ahead of her walks the Captain, holding the iron chain attached to the heavy shackles encompassing her delicate wrists.

Her skin is rubbed red and raw under the sharp edges of the cuffs and her gown is torn and stained along the hem. A long sleeve ripped up to her bicep and a straight scratch along her left cheek, but she might as well have been dressed in all the finery and jewels of a queen with how the court stares in awe.

She radiates… something.

Something unseen and powerful and glorious that has breaths caught in lungs and eyes unblinking as she strides forward, the chain slack and her back straight. She stands with all the power and regal air of a royal lady of the court, as if she were here as a guest rather than a prisoner in chains.

The deep green of her gown, velvet and hemmed with silver threads, sweeps over the marble like a curtain of moss, silent compared to the footsteps of the soldiers. Beaded starlight dappled lightly over her skirt gathers together in larger clusters towards the bottom hem, gradient of silver and white sparkles that catch the crackling flames with every movement. Her skirt trails behind her, tattered and torn, and the guardsmen take care not to step on it.

They keep a wary distance from the woman, even though they must remain close - as if afraid to touch any part of her.

Hair the color of flowers only found in the royal garden cascades down the open back of her dress, brushing over unmarred skin and twisting in loose curls. Her head is held high and remains facing forward even as her eyes pass over the awed faces of the court. Eyes like the emeralds lining the King's crown and a face that is both hard edges and gentle curves, her stern expression unwavering and the smallest downward tilt to pink lips is the only inclination to her thoughts as she is led towards the raised dais of the throne.

The guardsmen and their charge stop at the first step of the platform and the hall falls silent once more, except for the soft rustling of fabric as the King shifts in his throne. Hard, aged, brown eyes stare into sharp green and the hall is filled with bated breaths, no person daring to speak or draw breath too loudly lest they draw the ire of either the King or the woman.

She stands tall and unwavering, refusing to break her gaze from the King's. Neither of them speak and the tension in the air grows heavy and thick, the crackling of the flames falling to a soft hush as well.

Then, her eyes flicker upwards and green-stained fingertips curl as her hands fist against the fabric of her gown.

The flames lick and rage against their delicate metal cages, growing bigger and brighter and hotter as her gaze falls on the single opalescent, spiraling horn mounted at the top of the King's throne, the jagged ivory base still stained red.

: :

Kakashi sees a ruby.

It is placed in the center of her forehead, pressed into her skin rather than the metal of a circlet or crown, and it catches the flickering flames of the torches as she passes by.

The Guardian of the Forest, he'd heard them call her - a strange woman inhabiting the mysterious woods just at the edge of the King's claimed land. She kept the creatures of the forest safe, allowing neither hunter nor soldier to enter and discover its secrets. Tales of magical beasts mingling among common animals and an ethereal being dressed in leaves and moss who wandered its hidden paths.

They were bedtime stories and lullabies that all children who lived near the woods grew up hearing, their dreams filled with creatures of legend and fae that would whisk you away into the darkness if you walked too close to those tall, tall trees.

He couldn't recall any mention of pink hair and eyes like green fire, however.

Kakashi stands at the edge of the crowded court, one of his hounds sitting obediently his side while he stands mesmerized, catching glimpses of the strange woman as she is led towards the throne.

He rarely ventured inside the castle anymore, preferring to spend his time in the kennels where he trained and tended to the royal hunting dogs. He'd had his fill of the court and politics and retired some years ago from his position as the Captain of the Guard. No more bloodshed, no more fighting - Kakashi had seen enough battles and men dying to fill several lifetimes.

Now, he took his place as the kennel master, making sure the hounds were kept happy and healthy between hunts and training pups for their eventual roles in the King's hunting parties. He spent a fair amount of time in the woods, but specifically those near the castle that were used for game and sport. Occasionally he ventured to other forests where townsfolk and noblemen hunted for their meals, but never to the great forest to the West, where white stags and black wolves and something otherworldly roamed.

Kakashi had been checking up on an order for new leather leads for the pack when he'd heard the whispers amongst the castle servants.

"A strange woman in chains caught by soldiers."

"A witch was being bought to the castle."

"The Guardian of the Forest had been captured."

So, he'd slipped into the throne room and kept to the edges of the great hall like many other curious members of the palace staff, unable to resist.

And he sees the woman, standing so tall and strong despite how the shackles dwarf her wrists and she barely reaches the shoulder of the guard next to her, soft and lovely and out of place in the court, and Kakashi insists to himself that there must be some mistake.

But then his hound whines and cowers and the flames lick at the metal cages of the torches, nearly grazing him as they seem to reach out in their rage, and the air grows cold, heavy and thick in his lungs.

And he knows that a mistake has been made, dire and dreadful.

: :

Kisame sees a sapphire.

It reminds him of his homeland, where the sea met the land and great waves crashed against towering cliffsides, carving back the rock and stone as it tried to reclaim what had once been under its care. Ocean spray and salt on his tongue, weathering his skin well before calluses and scars from training and combat. His gaze reading the horizon and tides and stars and the grand forests to the West only a legend for the children of seafarers and fishermen.

He'd always wanted to see those green, green woods and trees as tall as cliffs, even though his heart sang for the water and seafoam.

Kisame trained and worked and eventually found his place in the castle guard for the royal palace itself, his ocean home and those rocky shoals seen now only in his dreams. His heart yearned for both the sea and the woods he'd yet to witness, caught between both and unable to choose whether to return or venture onwards.

Now head of the King's personal guard, he dreams of both the past and the future - of before and more.

The Lady of the Woods, he'd heard whispered.

First as a story-creature when he was a child - a magical woman who'd never seen the ocean or horizon or sky, only trees and their reaching arms that hid away the stars and clouds with their canopies of leaves and vines. A being that spoke to the forest and bade the plants to follow her commands. Both a prisoner and a warden, where life was so unlike that of the coast and the inhabitants sounded alien and strange.

And now again, as he stands at his post to the right of the dais, armor glinting under the flames and his hand resting at his side, always just a moment away from reaching for his sword.

Kisame sees her as the grand doors open and the procession of guardsmen enter and his heart stops.

He sees the sunsets over the horizon that he misses, pink and lovely and breathtaking, and the greens of the great forest he yearns to see, cloaking a body with pale skin that had never known ocean spray or the harsh coastal sun.

Her eyes are more green than any leaf and they travel over the staring faces as she passes, unreadable and intense. The sapphire in the center of her forehead seems out of place amongst the greens of her eyes and gown and fingertips and the pinks of her hair and lashes and lips and Kisame stares like everyone else, something thrumming in his chest and in his ears.

Her eyes meet his own and he takes the smallest, sharpest breath, holding her gaze for what feels like hours, but he knows is only an instant, before her attention is turned to the King. Her anger is palpable and sweat beads at the nape of his neck and he doesn't dare take his eyes off of her.

Kisame is privy to more information than most, as he is always at his King's side, and he knows this woman has been brought here for heinous crimes - murder of soldiers, destruction of royal property, defiance against the King's will - but he finds himself unable to believe it.

She seems so delicate and frail, despite the strength behind her gaze. How could one small - lovely, beautiful, otherworldly - woman destroy an entire battalion? How could this woman have possibly uprooted a small fortress and crushed stone into rubble?

And then her gaze moves away from the king and to the horn mounted overhead and Kisame feels a chill unlike anything he's experienced in years.

The bite of ice in his veins and the suffocating pressure of water and drowning, no air left in his lungs and his heart heavy in his chest.

His hand is on his sword before he even realizes it and he's stepped forward, just the same as all the guards and soldiers present. The flames behind him grow wild and unruly, but he feels no heat from their lashing tongues.

Kisame's hand is on his blade but he can find no true desire to draw it, lost as he is in the Lady's gaze.

: :

Shikamaru sees an onyx.

He'd been restless all morning, a heavy pressure at the back of his skull and an unsettling feeling under his skin. He knew what would be happening today, had known for the week leading up to it, but he had no idea what to expect. And not knowing is one of his least favorite feelings.

The Witch of the Moors.

She was a legend - an enchantress, a sorceress, a shapeshifter - who had only ever been glimpsed through trees and branches of those daring few who entered her woods. Ruby hair, onyx eyes, golden hair, topaz eyes, diamonds and sapphires and pearls and emeralds and so many conflicting stories that encompassed years and years and years. Wearing the forest like a gowns and cloaks and hallowed by starlight, the very earth listened to her command and the creatures of the forest both feared and adored her.

She wasn't supposed to be real.

If anything, it was just some reclusive witch hiding in the great forest to the West, driving away people who tried to enter.

But then the King had taken a hunting party to the forest and returned with the most glorious trophy, exposing his sins to anyone who looked upon the opalescent horn he'd mounted.

Shikamaru had been on edge ever since he'd seen the horn, still bloody and shining though slowly dimming as the King laughed and regaled his grand story. He'd wanted to leave, to lock himself away in his study and beg for forgiveness as he knew there would be dire consequences. But his teacher had a place on the King's council and, as his apprentice, Shikamaru must remain at his side. To learn and listen so that one day he'd be able to take his place as a royal advisor and mage to the King.

His fingertips were numb and his shadows restless, flickering at the edges and twisting underfoot as he stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back and his expression tired and every fibre of his being screaming for him to run.

The first omen came the next morning, a dark storm reaching across the sky like a clawed hand, the castle its final mark. Reports claimed that the storm stretched across miles and miles, no break in the black and charcoal clouds. Lightning crackled just under the surface, never striking the ground but filling the air with static and energy.

The storm originated from the great forest, with its massive trees and otherworldly legends, and reached all the way across the kingdom for the King himself.

He had the horn mounted to his throne that evening.

And during the night, he claimed someone - some thing - had slipped into his bedchamber and tried to kill him.

(Reports from the guards claimed that they had rushed to the King's chamber at the sound of his screams, to find him waking from a nightmare and a manic look in his gaze.)

The next day, he sent a small battalion of soldiers to the forest.

Only one man returned, half dead upon his horse with reports of a bloodbath and screams and a witch standing on the rubble of what had once been an ancient watchtower.

The King consulted his mages and magical advisors and they came back with a potion, iron shackles, and a plan.

And now the Witch of the Moors had been brought to the castle to answer for her crimes and, again, all Shikamaru wanted was to run away.

The air is electrifying in the hall well before the doors finally open, the hair on his arms standing on edge but no one else seeming to notice the unrest in the atmosphere. Shikamaru stands to the left of the dais, at the back of the council and behind his teacher but with a clear view of the path to the throne.

The grand doors open and his blood sings.

A powerful force rushes through his veins, both chilling and burning all at once, and he hasn't seen her yet but he k nows she is there. There are whispers and hushed voices calling feather-soft into his ears, drawing patterns against his bare skin under his clothing and making him tense. His shadows writhe and twist and it's the only movement from him as he finds himself standing frozen-still, gaze straining as he waits for her to come into view.

Shikamaru finally, finally, sees petal-pink hair, green eyes brighter than any gem, and an onyx stone in the center of her forehead and he tries and fails to breathe.

Something is so terrible wrong and he can tell that his teacher feels it now as well as he tenses and inhales sharply through his teeth, but Shikamaru doesn't dare look away from the woman - he never wants to look away.

He feels her anger under his skin and in his veins and he knows she has every right to tear the castle itself down around them and rip apart anyone who stands in her way. He knows the only crime committed has been against her and, then and there, he resigns himself to whatever destruction she desires and knows that he will be leaving the castle by daybreak.

The flames roar and scream and rage and after things are calmed to simmering rather than overboiling and the woman is led away in her iron shackles, three minds simultaneously come to the same conclusion.

Tonight is the only night she will spend as a prisoner.

: :

Kisame brings her food.

He swipes the meal meant for her from one of the prison guards to hand-deliver it himself, using his authority as the head of the King's personal guard and claiming he wants a closer look at the witch, sharp steel in his gaze and his jaw tense.

The hardness of his expression melts away as he faces the door to her cell, high up in one of the tallest towers and far away from earth and soil. He meets her with a hushed voice and light steps as he enters, finding her still shackled at the wrist and kneeling at the far edge of the dark room. There is a single hole high above her, allowing a single ray of light from the setting sun to enter the cell.

She pauses in the midst of singing in a language Kisame doesn't understand and looks up at him, those emerald eyes practically glowing in the dark.

He carefully approaches her and slowly lowers to one knee, setting the food in front of her. Though her meal had originally only consisted of stale bread and water, he'd added a few fresh pieces of fruit that he'd swiped from the kitchen to the platter.

She meets his gaze and Kisame feels as if she is staring into his very soul, reading every thread of his being and slowly taking him apart, piece by piece.

And then her stern, indecipherable expression melts away and she offers him a near-smile, reaching out to touch his arm with her cuffed hands. He's never felt such soft skin against his own and he freezes, breath caught again before he bows his head in reverence and promises his return. Kisame unwillingly backs out of the cell and and doesn't look away from her until the door is closed.

He swipes the spare ring of keys mounted at the guard station after passing the original back to the prison guard, already making plans for a pair of horses and supplies.

: :

Kakashi brings her a blanket.

It's old and from his own home, so he's inwardly apologetic for any lingering dog-smells, but he would rather she have something of his than something belonging to the castle.

It's still fairly early in the evening and he distracts the prison guards with Pakkun, the small dog grabbing their attention as he makes off with someone's coinbag and they chase after him. Kakashi slips through the shadows, unseen and unnoticed and well practiced at getting where he wants to go without being spotted.

He curses as he finds the spare ring of keys missing from its usual spot in the guard station and resigns himself to picking the lock, using skills that have gone unused for some years.

The sound of muffled singing stops just as he manages to unlock the latch and carefully push the door open.

She's kneeling in front of the far wall, hair he longs to touch and run through his fingers cascading down her shoulders as she watches him warily. Still slightly crouched, Kakashi stares at her for a long moment, forgetting why he'd come, before he's startled by a soft bark in the distance.

Pulled from his reverie, Kakashi glances over his shoulder before silently slipping into the cell. Her eyes narrow and he holds up his hands as a show of peace, smiling behind the cloth covering the lower half of his face. Green eyes stare and stare and he holds his breath for almost too long, relaxing when she finally seems to find what she's searching for in his gaze.

Kakashi speaks, softly and lightly and her tense shoulders lower, her head tilting and sending those soft tresses in further waves down her arm as he procures the blanket from under his belt. He holds it out to her and she hesitantly reaches for it, his boot brushing an apple core as he takes another crouched step forwards.

Soft, delicate hands touch his rough, weathered fingers and she gives him the smallest smile as she accepts his gift.

His heart is pounding in his chest and he nearly lets out a small laugh, but then he hears more barking in the distance, grimacing behind his mask. Kakashi promises to return and slips back out of the cell, listening to the click of the lock and casting the door one last look before disappearing into the shadows.

: :

Shikamaru brings her a candle.

He stashes it away in his pocket and heads towards the tower used as a secondary prison with a lie on his tongue and conviction in his veins. He claims that the other mages sent him to see the witch, showing off a vial filled with shimmering black liquid that, in reality, is just metal shavings and ink.

He's led to her cell and watches as the door is unlocked for him, one of his shadows slipping into that of the prison guard to inspect the key as he enters the dark room, the sound of singing suddenly stopping. The sun has set and the sky has been dark for some time now, with the only light coming from the torches lining the hall outside the cell doors. The guard places a torch temporarily in one of the wall sconces and closes the door behind him, leaving Shikamaru with the woman.

She's bundled under a blanket and watching him with curiosity, something tickling the edges of his awareness and making him shiver, a buzz of energy under his skin. He stands there for a moment, holding her gaze, before walking forward and slowly dropping to his knees in front of her. Removing the candlestick from his pocket, Shikamaru gathers some of the energy in the air into his hand and passes his fingers over the wick, a flame lighting to life and flickering between them. The light dances across her face, catching in her eyes and the onyx on her forehead, and he waits with bated breath.

Then she chuckles and Shikamaru finds himself smiling, holding reaching to her left and using some of the melted wax to anchor the candle to the stone floor. When he looks back up at her, he's caught off guard by warm lips on his forehead and a spark of energy that rushes through him and makes his hair stand on end, his blood racing and roaring.

With hushed whispers, Shimamaru promises to return, retrieves the torch from the wall of the cell, and returns to his room to pack only the most important of his possessions.

: :

The next evening, after a tense day full of anxious thoughts and restless bodies, the commander of the King's personal guard, the kennel master, and the apprentice mage return to the prison tower.

Kisame and Kakashi arrive at the same door at the same moment.

They balk at each other, both searching for their next course of action and unwilling to harm each other. Kinda-sorta-friends and all that.

"Commander Hoshigaki…" Kakashi says, shuffling awkwardly with his lockpick hidden behind his back.

"Hatake…" Kisame answers back, just as stiff and tense.

A long stretch of silence passes between the men, muffled singing heard from behind the door next to them, and Kisame just barely shifts, the ring of keys hidden under his coat jingling at the movement and slipping out of their place in the picket he'd hurriedly stuffed them into. They hit the ground with a dull thud and both men look down, sweat beading on Kisame's brow as Kakashi’s eyes widen.

The knight grimaced, wondering if it would be quieter to knock him out by punching him in the face and knocking his head against the wall.

"...So that's where the spare keys went." Kakashi mumbles after a moment and Kisame's confusion is just long enough for the silver haired kennel master to sheepishly hold up his lockpicking tool and let out a nervous laugh.

Kisame opens his mouth to speak but is too dumbfounded to find words. They both silently shuffle their feet for a moment before a tired groan from the shadows has both men suddenly turning towards the source, a sword raised and a knife in hand within seconds.

Shikamaru steps out of the shadows, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and holding up the copy-key he'd made with the other.

"Man, did we all have the same jailbreak idea..?"

The three would-be rescuers all stare at each other for a moment, Kisame resheathing his sword and Kakashi slipping his blade back into its spot on his belt as there's a chorus of awkward grunts and murmurs.

"One horse or two..?" Shikamaru asked after a moment, looking up at the much-taller Kisame. He'd only been able to get a single stallion, since he rarely left the castle anyways, and he doubted Commander Hoshigaki would be as unlucky.

"Two," Kisame admits, scratching at his cheek. "I've, uh, got them saddled and ready over by the West wall."

Shikamaru nods in approval but then Kakashi lets out a tired chuckle.

"Cart for me."

At their stares he sighs and shrugs.

"I've got dogs I'm taking with me, alright?"

The air is eerily quiet for a moment as the three men discuss their plans in hushed tones before Shikamaru suddenly tenses, static under his fingers as he sends the door a startled look.

All at once there's a rumble and a crash, the ground shaking and the sound of thunder filling their ears, coming from behind the cell door. The three men share startled looks before scrambling forward to unlock the door, a rush of fresh air meeting them the moment they throw it open.

The far wall of the cell has been blown apart, tree roots and branches digging into the floor and reaching into the room while the light of the moon dappled the darkness through the leaves.

Kneeling on the thick roots with one leg outside of the tower is the witch, who looks back at the men for a long moment. Then, she grins, waves, and hops off the ledge, sliding down the length of a massive tree that had reached up toward the tower, branches and leaves curling away from her as she makes her escape.

Kakashi, Kisame, and Shikamaru stare at the place she'd been for a long moment before the latter finally speaks up.

"S-so, uh… do we follow her or take the stairs..?"

#kakasaku #kisasaku #shikasaku #multisaku #sakura centric #Sakura haruno fic #Thirrinwrites #Thirrinfic #sakura haruno fanfiction #Sakura haruno discord server 6 month exchange #Shdkdjsk witchy sakura fic cause I can't help myself

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frostmarris · 4 years ago

Text

Ablaze

Yandere!Shisui/Yakuza!Sakura

notes: ok apparently i cant keep things simple. another drabble request that got out of hand.

this is for @lunarlegend11 who requested a yandere or yakuza shisui/sakura but i misread things, realized there was an OR, then went ahead and did both anyways

enjoy!

: :

Shisui wasn't in the habit of getting into strange cars without knowing where he was headed, but when a yakuza thug is the one to step out of a shiny black S-class Mercedes with windows tinted too dark to be legal and orders him to get in, he's not about to argue.

There's another well-dressed man inside and Shisui is forced to slide in next to him, sandwiched between the two stony-faced men when the first joins them inside. He hesitates to ask what's going on or where they're taking him, so he sits quietly and cautiously takes in as much visual information as he can.

The car races down the street and he attempts to keep track of the route without too noticeably looking out the windows, but one of the men shifts, crossing his arms across his chest, and Shisui glances down to see the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve. His eye is drawn to the thick white outline of a simple circle nestled amongst the rolling waves and twisting tree branches and Shisui sits back, realizing who's car he's in. He's silent the rest of the drive and, before long, the vehicle stops and the door is opened by yet another yakuza. A sharp nudge from the man to his left urges Shisui to exit and he slides out, glancing around as he realizes he's in an underground parking garage.

He's led to an elevator and is taken up to the top floor, all without any sort of explanation. The elevator doors slide open to reveal a lobby of sorts, where a few other men and women are lounging. Some watch him pass by as he's led to the singular door at the end of a short hallway while others pay him little mind, obviously uninterested.

Shisui stands a little straighter as he realizes he's likely being taken to the boss, his head held high with just enough confidence to not come off as offensive.

The man walking in front of him at the lead opens the door and pushes it in, taking up a spot just to the right as Shisui is ushered in. It's an office, he realizes as he spots the desk at the center back. The lights are rather dim in the room and the chair behind the desk is empty, but he hears the sound of a page turning and looks to his left to see a woman sitting in a comfortable armchair. The lamp situated just behind her is giving off the most light and she sits with one leg crossed over the other, a file folder propped up on her knee. There's a small side table to her right with a short stack of documents situated next to a steaming mug, which she takes a delicate sip from as the door is shut behind Shisui and the two guards bar his exit.

But he can't tear his gaze away from the woman, silent as he takes in her appearance.

She's wearing a sleek black suit - obviously custom made as it fits her perfectly - with ruby cufflinks and a simple white circle outline pinned to the left lapel. The jacket is open and the top four buttons of the crisp white shirt underneath are undone, the fabric parted just enough to let a few of the tattoos around her collarbone peek out. Her hair - a darker, almost orange-ish pink under the yellow light of the lamp - is pulled up in a topknot with bangs, center-parted, framing her face. There's a simple purple diamond tattooed on the center of her forehead and her ears are pierced, simple diamond studs on each lobe.

Her eyeliner is winged, her lips painted red, and she doesn't look up from the document she's reading as she addresses him.

"Uchiha Shisui, yes?"

Her voice is softer than he'd been expecting and Shisui hesitates for too long, still staring wide-eyed at the woman.

"Answer Haruno-sama," One of the guards behind him grunts as he pushes him forward to stop just a few feet in front of her, obviously irritated with his lack of a response. The gruff voice and the confirmation of what family he was speaking to pulls Shisui from his stupor and he stands just a little straighter before he bows politely, trying to keep his tone even.

"Yes, that's me."

She nods, the light catching off the cherry blossom charm dangling from the ornamental pin in her hair, and flips the page over, grabbing a fountain pen from the side table. Her hand moves with a quick flick as she scratches a line through something on the paper and the room is silent besides the soft jazz music playing from an antique record player in the corner.

Shisui nearly jumps when she speaks again.

"You're the owner and executive chef of Restaurant Moeruki," She says, pausing for just a moment before her eyes finally cut up to him, looking at him for the first time since he'd arrived. He's rather startled by the intense green of her eyes but he catches himself before he can grow too distracted when she continues. "Correct?"

"Yes," He answers, almost unsurely. He has no clue what interests the yakuza have in his restaurant, but it definitely couldn't be good.

"Excellent!" She says, turning slightly to actually face him and her lips lifting with a slight smile.

(Shisui doesn't understand why seeing her so pleased makes his heart pound.)

She maintains that even smile as she speaks, propping one elbow on the armrest and the other on her thigh as she laces her fingers together.

"On March 28th, two weeks from now, you will close your dining room to the general public and host a banquet for myself and my family."

It's neither a request nor a demand - its a proclamation. One that leaves Shisui feeling shell-shocked.

"W-what?" He asks before he can stop himself, instantly regretting it when her smile falls slightly.

One of the guards behind him seems to take offense to him questioning his boss and the back of one of Shisui's knees is kicked in - not enough to injure him but enough to drop him to the floor with a surprised grunt.

The pink-haired woman clicks her tongue and sends the guard a disapproving look over Shisui's shoulder. The man bows his head and offers her an apology before taking up his spot next to the door again. She sits back, both of her arms laying on the armrests, and moves her crossed leg to catch the toe of her leather, stiletto-heeled boot under his chin. Shisui's head is tilted up and he's left in his kneeling position in front of her, that smile appearing on her face again.

Her boot lowers and she uncrosses her legs to stand, gesturing for Shisui to do so as well before she moves towards her desk. He stands, unable to tear his gaze away, and turns to watch her as she leans against a corner of the mahogany desk and crosses her arms over her chest, practically sitting on the tabletop.

"As I was saying," She continues, her gaze still on him. "March 28th. I've heard a fair deal of good things about Moeruki and wish to celebrate my birthday in your restaurant."

Shisui resists the urge to glance back at the man who had kicked him and bows, recovering much quicker than earlier with his response.

"I would be honored, Haruno-sama."

Her smile widens and she nods to one of the guards who then slips out of the room. As the door closes, she pushes off of the corner of the desk and moves around it to take her seat in a plush office chair, pulling a document towards her.

"As it will be a private event, your establishment will need to be closed to its regular patrons," She looks down - he immediately misses her gaze on him - and grabs a pen, writing something down as she continues. "But don't fret, Uchiha-kun. It will still be a full house and you will be paid handsomely for your hospitality."

She pauses to search through a drawer to her left and soon straightens with a small black business card in hand, a phone number printed in silver on one side and the Haruno family insignia on the other.

"My… event coordinator will be in contact with you to assist in booking entertainment and to pick out the courses for the dinner." She doesn't look up from the paper she's still writing on, the card caught between her fore and middle finger as she holds it out to him. "Your menu is one of the highlights of your restaurant so I wish to sample from it - with just a few additions."

Shisui reaches out to take the card, his knuckle just barely brushing her fingertip, and nods, inwardly trying not to imagine what sort of 'events' a mafia gang would need a coordinator for.

The door opens behind him and the guard returns, holding a thick envelope and a mobile phone. Her pen pauses and she looks up at Shisui as he's handed both, realizing the cellphone is likely a burner phone for contacting her coordinator.

He's suddenly aware of how her looking at him fills his chest with a pleased, warm feeling.

"Half of your payment now, half on the 29th," She nods to the heavy envelope, the weight of the cash inside the final piece of proof that this was really happening, and leans back in her chair, crossing her legs again as she maintains that easy smile and intense gaze. "Should my birthday celebration be a success, you will see a surge in business - this I can assure you, Uchiha-kun."

Shisui clutches the envelope, phone, and business card in a tight grip and bows once more, torn between apprehension and excitement.

"I look forward to serving you, Haruno-sama. Thank you for this opportunity."

: :

Haruno Sakura.

The name repeats over and over in Shisui's mind over the next two weeks.

He can't get her out of his head - that smile, the sound of her voice, those eyes - even despite the fact that one wrong move would likely lead to his death.

His staff are understandably distressed when he announces the banquet they'll be hosting in her honor, but they work diligently to make sure everything is prepared for the night to go off without a hitch. With all of the food and supplies ordered and the musicians booked, Restaurant Moeruki closes a day early to decorate the dining room according to the 'event coordinator's' direction. One of the private party rooms is spruced up even more so for the guest of honor and her entourage and Shisui elects to prepare their dishes himself. He's meticulous with the menu, looks over every detail of the decor personally, gives the pep talk of the century to his kitchen and waitstaff, and, by the day of Haruno Sakura's birthday, he's feeling confident that the evening will be a success.

The entire restaurant staff is waiting in the lobby to welcome their guests, with Shisui standing at the head of the lineup, his heart in his throat as she walks in.

Her pink hair is pulled up in an intricate bun, a flowering hairpin with dangling gems and charms tucked in on the left side, and, when she turns her head to speak to the woman at her arm, Shisui can see the detailed mandala design etched into her undercut at her nape. Her makeup is rather delicate but her lips are still blood red, parting as she laughs as she passes him by and enters the restaurant.

She's dressed in a spring yukata, the base fabric a simple organic design of pale greens and blues with falling cherry blossoms, the same shade as her hair, scattered over the bottom half and sleeves. The obi is a darker shade of pink and doesn't reach as high up her abdomen as traditionally. The charms hanging from the mint green cord tied around the middle of the obi jingle and dance with every step and Shisui nearly forgets himself as he watches her walk through the doors leading inside.

With a hushed voice he quickly reminds his staff to be careful yet polite and moves to escort Sakura and her entourage to their private dining room, doing his utmost to get her to look at and acknowledge him.

Once they're situated and drinks are quickly brought in, the music from the band easily reaching the room through the closed rice-paper door, Shisui excuses himself to head to the kitchen.

He returns, some minutes later, with the first course to personally send off the start of her meal, but is soon trapped in the kitchen as he oversees the rest of the meal. His only knowledge of what's happening in the restaurant and, specifically, the private room, is through reports from the waitstaff, who aren't sure whether to be relieved or more nervous the more the yakuza members drink.

Finally, as the banquet approaches its end, Shisui returns to present dessert and see her again for the first time in hours.

Her gaze passes right over him but lights up at the sight of the cake he'd hired a professional pastry chef to create and Shisui stays to play host, making sure that all of Sakura's needs are met.

Later in the evening, when the cake is gone and most of the lower subordinates are either drunkenly dozing or too engrossed in their own conversations to remember they're not at their headquarters, Shisui feels the oddest feeling begin to burn in his chest.

He's stood at attention with his other head host just next to the sliding door, at the ready for any of the special guests to make any manner of request. He tries to keep his gaze down respectfully, idly listening to the entourage's drunken conversation, but can't pull his attention away from her.

Sakura's face is flushed from the alcohol (he's lost track of how many bottles of sake and liquor they'd gone through) and she's pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her yukata, the fabric laying loosely around her waist, to combat the warmth of the room. The flush to her skin extends down her bare chest, her breasts uncovered and the tattoos over her shoulders and ribs exposed, but she is entirely unbothered by her partial nudity. She exudes an air of confidence that permeates the room, as comfortable in her bare skin as she would be with a shirt and jacket.

Her arms are strong and lean and the muscles of her shoulders and back are well-defined with her every move, though he only sees them when she turns or twists around. Shisui finds his gaze traveling from the head of the dragon curved over her right shoulder all the way down to where the tail appears across her left ribs. The remaining body of the dragon is tattooed across her back and, while her skin isn't as decorated as older bosses, he's sure that in a few years she'd have a multitude of new tattoos covering her arms and torso, with that traditional strip of unmarked skin running down the center of her body.

Shisui continues to watch her, taking in every detail as their conversation seems to fade out and all of the voices muddle together-

Until suddenly Sakura is laughing and his heart both clenches and soars.

It soars because her laugh is one of the most lovely things he's ever heard, almost bringing a reflexive smile to his own face.

But it clenches as she turns to the red-haired woman at her side, Sakura's arm around her waist as the unknown woman sits on her thigh, practically in her lap. The redhead, dressed in an expensive-looking velvet dress, says something that makes her laugh again but the words don't register in Shisui's mind - he's too focused, too lost, as Sakura catches the woman's chin between her thumb and forefinger, pulls her closer by the arm around her waist, and leans in, that intense green gaze centered entirely on her and not on him, not on him, why won't she look at him-

Sakura kisses the red-haired woman deeply and Shisui doesn't realize his hands have curled into tight fists at his side until the other host nudges his arm, his gaze full of confusion and concern.

Shisui is snapped out of his daze and glances to his employee, trying not to flinch when he quickly unclenches his hands and feels how close he'd come to making his fingernails cut into his palm. He puts on a reassuring smile that's dripping with lies and relaxes his stance, inwardly relieved that her lieutenant and the four other yakuza ranked directly under her right hand man hadn't noticed how intensely he'd been watching Sakura.

(His chest is aching, burning and tight and full of an anger he doesn't understand, fire caught in his throat and smoke in his lungs and the image of her kissing someone else - someone who wasn't him, why did he wish he was in her place why did his chest burn burn burn - replaying over and over in his mind.)

The laughter and drunken conversation continues for a while, with staff members coming and going with requests from the main party, until, finally, everything seems to wind down and it's apparent that the Haruno yakuza are ready to head home.

"Uchiha-kun."

Shisui looks up at the sound of her voice, in the middle of speaking quietly with one of his head waiters but quickly dropping the conversation to focus on Sakura. She beckons him with a curled finger, one arm in a yukata sleeve and the other still bare, and her gaze heavy from the alcohol and merrymaking.

"Come, sit with me for a moment," She commands, nodding to the empty cushion to her left. She's sitting with one leg crossed and the other propped up, her clothed arm resting on her raised knee while the red-haired woman lays next to her, her head on her thigh and her hair spilling into Sakura's lap. The yakuza boss wears the redhead's discarded glasses, perched on top of her head like a pair of shades, and sends Shisui a friendly smile as he kneels on the cushion.

"My compliments to you and your staff for this evening," Sakura says, her attention finally, finally focused entirely on Shisui (even though she's idly combing her fingers through her sleeping companion's red tresses) and he sends her an easy-going smile that completely belies the fire still burning in his chest and the crescent indents in his palms.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, Haruno-sama," Shisui replies smoothly, his head bowing so that he could force his gaze away from those red lips. "It's been an honor to serve you - and a bigger honor still to host your birthday celebration."

She laughs and he has to stop himself from looking up at her too suddenly, the ache in his chest waning at the sound of her joy and the sight of her eyes only on him.

"You're welcome back to the Restaurant Moeruki anytime, Haruno-sama."

(He so desperately wants to say her name, wants to say it aloud and taste it on his tongue and feel the breath he would use for the single word as it leaves his lungs, leaving behind a sacred emptiness because nothing could possibly fill the space.)

Her smile widens and his heart soars - only to crash yet again as she gathers the sleeping redhead in her arms and moves to stand, lifting and carrying the woman with ease. Shisui quickly stands as well, stepping aside as she heads towards the door of the private room, her subordinates filing out with tired yawns and a few drunken laughs.

"We will certainly be returning," Sakura says, turning to look at Shisui once more, "That, you can be assured of, Uchiha-kun."

She refocuses her attention on the woman in her arms and that ache returns as Shisui is forced to watch her softly mutter something in the redhead's ear, those red lips curved in a gentle smile when the woman shifts, rests her head in the crook of Sakura's neck, and drapes an arm over her clothed shoulder.

Sakura presses a kiss against the corner of her jaw as she turns away and Shisui feels something warm and wet drip down his fingers, belatedly realizing he'd clenched his hands into fists again.

He hides his bloody palms as he escorts the woman whose smile he desires more than anything ever before out through his restaurant, the flames growing in his chest contained behind a friendly facade with his lips sealed and a silent voice screaming in his lungs.

: :

Just as Sakura had promised, the restaurant sees a huge increase in business over the following month as they become one of the most popular establishments in the city. It's both a blessing and a curse - the surge in traffic brings in more money and opportunities while the looming presence of the yakuza leaves everyone on edge.

She returns thrice more that first month, reservations for herself and the higher ranking members always called in in advance and a few instructions given beforehand on whether they'd be making any special requests - such as off-menu dishes or what sort of music they wanted booked for the evening.

Shisui fortunately never has to close the entire restaurant again like he had for Sakura's birthday, but one of the private dining rooms quickly becomes reserved specifically for her party. The staff knows better than to ever take other guests into it - even when the restaurant is fully booked - just on the off chance that the Haruno family drops by unexpectedly for an impromptu dinner.

He always greets her at the door when she arrives with her entourage, always insists on preparing her meals himself, always checks in after the last dish is served, and always is the one to escort her out at the end of the evening.

He rarely has her undivided attention during her visits, no matter how desperately he craves it, until, at the end of her fourth meal at Moeruki, Sakura calls for him personally.

She's seated at the head of the table, like always, but the cushions at her right and left are vacant as the redhead and her first lieutenant are in the midst of a karaoke battle at the other side of the room. Most of the other men and women of the party are focused on cheering along but a few remain at the table, chatting with each other.

Sakura sits with her legs tucked neatly under her, dressed in a beautiful black kimono with a design of spider lily flowers cascading down from one of her shoulders, starting out white but becoming blood red by the time they reach the bottom hem. Her silver obi has an intricate geometric pattern and the other layers of her outfit provide red and white accents, matching the sparkling headpiece pinned into her pink hair, which is pulled up high on her head.

In front of her is a sake bottle and a single cup and she gestures for him to sit to her left when he enters, the other yakuza paying him little mind.

Her lips are a darker shade of red than usual and Shisui nearly misses her words when she speaks after he's taken his place beside her, too focused on how desperately he wishes he could feel them against his own and taste her laugh.

"-ve greatly enjoyed my meals here, Uchiha-kun," Sakura says, her gaze not on him as she carefully pours sake into the single cup. "And i would like to make my dining in Restaurant Moeruki a regular occurrence."

Her eyes cut up to him suddenly, intense and heavy as she looks at Shisui from under her lashes. His heart leaps to his throat and that now ever-present ache is lessened, the roaring fire calmed by her attention.

"If you find that agreeable," Sakura continues, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a delicate sip.

"Of course," Shisui answers, without hesitation. The music is still playing but he doesn't hear anyone singing, but he can't - doesn't want to - tear his gaze away from her own for even a moment. "It is a privilege to serve you, Haruno-sama-"

(Sakura, Sakura, Sakura -)

"-and we would be honored to continue doing so."

Her lips curl into that smile that he covets and the hand holding the sake cup moves towards him, offering it to Shisui. He takes the small glass, his fingers brushing her own, and can see where her lips had met the rim, a red mark left behind from her lipstick.

Had she not been scrutinizing him so closely, he likely would have turned the cup to press his lips where hers had been, an indirect kiss that would leave his lips tingling from the ghost of her presence.

But he doesn't turn the cup and simply brings it to his mouth as-is, suddenly realizing what was happening.

An informal sakazuki-goto - a pledge of loyalty.

Shisui drinks slowly, hoping it doesn't come off as hesitation, and sets the cup down, belatedly realizing that the other occupants of the room had laid witness to him pledging himself to the Haruno family.

Sakura smiles, chuckles, and reaches out to catch his chin between her forefinger and thumb once the entourage have returned their attention to the karaoke match. He's caught by surprise as she pulls him closer, his heartbeat drowning out his thoughts when she leans forward and closes her eyes.

Her lips press against just the corner of his mouth in a teasing kiss and Shisui is both ecstatic and distraught, so close to tasting her but finally receiving even the barest of skin contact from this beautiful, disastrous woman.

The fire in his chest bursts and crackles and the smoke in his lungs coil and smothers his breaths and he wants more than anything to turn his head to steal a proper kiss- to reach out an arm and curl it around her waist- to pull her flush to his chest and thread his fingers through her pink hair and kiss her as deeply as he does in his dreams and feel her body against his own and whisper in her ear just how desperately he craves her and and and-

But he controls himself, knowing such an action would likely lead to his death right here, right now, and pulls away only when she releases him, the corner of his mouth tingling.

His heart yearns and his chest aches and his blood boils when she turns away and he's dismissed, horrified to find that her kiss had been too light to even leave the slightest red mark behind.

: :

Shisui stands there next to the door to the walk-in, half hidden behind a tall rack of supplies and the table linens, to see one of the head waiters at the back exit just down the hall, the door propped open enough for him to see the younger man pass a key to a stranger in black.

It's late, late in the evening, the restaurant already closed and the guests and most of the staff all headed home and Shisui stares for a good long while, taking in the man's sunglasses and the sleeve of tattoos peeking out from under his jacket. They're speaking, but Shisui can't hear the words being exchanged, and the waiter turns to head back inside when the man pockets the key and leaves, looking nervous but pleased with with himself as he closes the back door.

His expression falls, however, when he sees Shisui standing there, his face paling slightly as his eyes go wide.

"U-uchiha-san! How… how long have you been there?"

Shisui steps closer, a heavy pit in his stomach as he approaches his staff member.

"What just happened?" Shisui asks, his voice soft and his tone calm even though he can feel something beginning to bubble inside him. "Who was that man? What was that key you gave him?"

The waiter looks more and more nervous with each question and he forces a shaky laugh, trying to play it all off, but then his eyes meet Shisui's intense gaze and he cracks, wringing his hands as he makes himself small.

"I-I'm just trying to help the restaurant! Trying to help you, sir!"

Shisui tilts his head and smiles his easy-going smile, resting his hands on his hips as he blocks the waiter' path.

"Trying to help me how?"

Brown eyes glance over his shoulder before refocusing on his face, sweat starting to bead on the man's forehead.

"E-ever since the yakuza- ever since they showed up, everything's been different," He insists, unsettled by Shisui's friendly expression. "Th-the staff- they act like things are okay now, b-but I know they're still nervous- still scared that one wrong move means they'll be shot or butchered."

"Haruno-sama and her affiliates' patronage to Restaurant Moeruki has brought us nothing but success and good business," Shisui responds evenly, his fingers twitching slightly.

The waiter's distress visibly increases and he shakes his head, starting to grow angry.

"N-no! It's their fault- her fault!" He steps forward, his expression somewhere between hopeful and frustrated. "You don't have to act like that, Uchiha-san! They're not here to see - I know you feel the same! We're trapped like rats, too afraid to even breathe, and it's all because of that damn woman."

The corner of Shisui's lip twitches and the friendly look on his face falls, his voice taking a warning tone.

"You shouldn't speak ill of our guests."

"She's not a guest!" The waiter says, reaching up to clutch his head as he turns around in anger, pacing as much as he can at the end of the hall. "Don't you see?! She's a viper that's going to have us all killed if she doesn't get her way! She's a monster with a pretty face! That's why-"

Each insult to Sakura makes Shisui's blood boil hotter and hotter, lava in his veins and smoldering ash in his lungs as he takes another step forward, pausing when the waiter cuts himself off.

"That's why, what? " Shisui asks gently, filled with anger on behalf of the dazzling, otherworldly woman he thinks about night and day.

It's been just over three months since her birthday and her visits come regularly, just as she said they would. She dines at Moeruki at least every two weeks, always in her private room with her party of high ranking subordinates and a few close companions. Over time, Shisui began to become a familiar sight amongst them, always joining them after their meal and growing closer and closer to Sakura.

He still coveted her gaze and her smile but each time he was the cause of her laugh or kept her attention centered on him as he told an amusing story, his heart filled with a joy that was almost painful. So close yet still so far from her, he would be patient and do all he could to earn her favor, to have her look only at him- smile only at him- love only him-

"-ith her gone, things will go back to normal!"

Shisui's attention snapped back to the waiter, a dark look on his eyes.

The man boldly continues, hoping to help his employer see reason.

"That's why I gave them the key. They'll come in through the back, quietly take her and those disgusting thugs out, and then everything will be fine again!" He reaches out to grip the front of Shisui's jacket, his knuckle white as he clenches the fabric in his fists. "We won't have to be afraid anymore!"

Shisui takes a slow, deep breath, his expression calm despite the rage behind his gaze.

"When that horrible woman is dead, everything will go back to normal and everything will be fine and-"

Shisui doesn't notice when his hand drops to the belt around his waist to remove one of his well-used knives from its holster - he's barely even aware when he plunges the blade into the waiters chest, his other hand raising to cover his mouth as he forces him backwards against the locked door.

All he feels is fire and anger and he stares down at the man as his face grows pale and he slides down, weakly grasping the front of Shisui's shirt as blood as red as her lips drips past his hand and down the waiter's chin.

Shisui smoothly removes his knife and stabs it into his abdomen again and again, his sleeves stained red and something wet splattering on his face and his hands moving on their own because this fool had dared to wish her dead.

There were many mistakes Shisui could look past, but threatening her - with her beautiful eyes and beautiful smile and beautiful laugh and all the power to make Shisui drop to his knees and pledge his life to her, if just for the privilege to feel her lips against his own for a fleeting moment - was not something he could forgive.

When he finally stood, Shisui looked down at the bloody body collapsed on the ground with neither panic nor guilt. There was no rush of adrenaline coursing through him or fear of what he'd just done - only a receding anger that gave way to a calm, his gaze calculating as he looks at the bloody knife in his hand.

Killing had been easy - easier than he ever imagined - and it was likely due to how dearly the fool had deserved it.

Shisui's eyebrows furrow and he cleans his knife off on his ruined jacket, his thoughts wonderfully calm. He lets out a breath, all the rage and fire and smoke inside him finally escaping for the first time ever without the aid of Sakura's smile and Sakura’s laugh and Sakura’s attention and Sakura’s-

Sakura.

He turns and there she is, leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest and her surprised gaze on the crumpled body behind Shisui. He stands there, frozen in place, and stares at her, mentally urging her to move her gaze to him and away from the trash that doesn't deserve even a second of her attention.

She looks up at Shisui finally, finally, and smiles a calm smile that maybe doesn't fully understand what just happened.

"I'm glad to see that you're taking your place in the family seriously, Shisui-kun."

And she doesn't. She doesn't understand that he couldn't care less about the 'family'- doesn't understand how he would go to the ends of the earth for her, would fulfill her every wish and command, would kill and slaughter and destroy anything and everything all for her-

And that's okay. It's okay that she doesn't understand yet.

Because hearing her say his name, hearing her reserve a breath just for him, hearing her speak his given name for the first time since their very first meeting fills him with such an intense wave of cooling, refreshing joy - putting out those flames and clearing the smoke and tenderly kissing away the ache in his chest until his heart is soaring too high for anything to bring it crashing down.

Shisui slips his knife back into its holster and rubs the back of his head, ruffling his messy curls as he lets out a sheepish laugh and approaches her.

"I apologize for my employee's rash actions, Haruno-sama," Shisui says, smiling that friendly smile as he gazes at her with a love she doesn't understand yet. "It won't happen again."

She smiles up at him and they walk through the empty kitchen, him just a step behind her at her side.

"I'm sure it won't." Comes her voice, directed at him even though she's facing away. "I'll have the mess taken care of."

She pauses and glances back at him and his heart pounds like a schoolboy faced with his childhood crush.

"You can call me Sakura, Shisui-kun."

And his heart bursts in his chest, exploding as it overfills with more love and joy than the cosmos can hold - hidden behind his calm smile and his friendly eyes as he bows his head politely, wiping a drop of blood off of his cheek with his thumb.

"Thank you, Sakura-sama."

#shisaku #shisuisaku #sakura fic #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #sakura's a yakuza boss and shisui's new to the yandere scene

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frostmarris · 4 years ago

Text

Sea Shanty

Shipwrecked!Suigetsu/Mermaid!Sakura

summary: A storm leaves Suigetsu shipwrecked and alone. Well, not completely alone. What's it like to owe a life debt to a mermaid?

a late get well gift for @kyoties !

mermaid sakura is such a weakness of mine lol

: :

The storm came abruptly and without warning, bearing down on the ship and its crew with merciless glee as they were thrown and tossed about. The winds, just as much as the waves, seemed insistent on never letting any of the crew members regain their footing for even a moment and Suigetsu was fairly certain he saw a man fall overboard and into the violent water below. He didn't know for sure and he didn't want to think about it as the waves would certainly smash the body back up against the side of the ship before dragging it under.

At this moment, as his world becomes water and wind and rain, he can't remember a time in his life when he'd been dry. His clothes are soaked through and he can feel the chill right down to his bone, the rain falling hard enough to hurt against his bare skin. He can barely hear the orders being shouted above deck, the roar of the wind and the crash of the sea deafening and silencing everything besides the occasional boom of thunder, but he fulfills his duties to the best of his abilities. He ties down what he can and helps other men with the rigging and is suddenly sent stumbling when a stray elbow strikes his face.

He is knocked against the deck railing and has a clear view of the angry waves smashing against the side of the ship, feeling everything rock to one side and get terribly close to pushing him off-balance. Suigetsu gets a face full of salt water for his troubles, but, before he can pull himself away, he spots something under the water.

There, further out where the waves aren't so violent, he swears he sees a face beneath the layer of seafoam. An icy chill, colder than the storm, fills him briefly as he thinks its the face of a crew member who'd been swept out to sea, but then the eyes blink and he realizes that it's watching the ship be tossed about from a safe distance. Just as it seems to meet Suigetsu's bewildered gaze, the ship rocks back the other way and the momentum pulls him away from the railing.

The next few moments are a blur and, before he can tell what's happening, Suigetsu suddenly realizes he doesn't know what's up and what's down and his lungs are both freezing and burning as his eyes sting and his fingers grow numb. The taste of salt on his tongue is stronger than it should be from mere ocean spray and he comes to the horrific realization that he's under water. The ocean both surrounds and fills him, in his mouth and in his stomach and in his lungs, and he desperately starts kicking, hoping he's facing the surface. Just moments after he breaks through and feels air on his face, coughing up seawater and trying to catch a breath, a wave comes crashing down on top of him.

It submerges him once more and drags him down with the force, what little breath he'd managed to obtain quickly knocked out of him. Disoriented, he desperately tries to swim for the surface again but feels his limbs going numb from the cold and his head light from the lack of air. Suigetsu forces his eyes open as a last-ditch effort to try to find the surface and thinks he can see the moon. It appears from behind the storm clouds briefly, distorted by the movement of the ocean water and so far away - too far and too late. He reaches towards it and the surface, the last of his breath bubbling out around his mouth in an unheard cry, and the light of the moon disappears once more.

There's only darkness around him. Darkness and an icy chill that's seeping into his bones, clutching at his heart, until, suddenly, there's warmth.

It's faint and vaguely lost through the encroaching numbness of his skin, but it wraps around him gently in a tender embrace. Strongest at his back, the warmth clutches him close and he only realizes he's reached the surface once more when he reflexively takes a deep breath. He looks down, sees pale arms wrapped around his chest through the black spots in his vision, and turns his head to try to take a look at his rescuer. Suigetsu feels something brush his legs as he recognizes the face from earlier and succumbs to the darkness, passing out as he's gently pulled through the water and away from the capsized ship.

: :

When Suigetsu comes to, it's with the taste of the sea on his tongue and the feeling of a terrible headache splitting his skull. He groans and reaches up to rub at his forehead, wincing at a tender bump under his still-damn bangs and hissing under his breath before he tries to sit up. The bare skin of his arms scrape against rock and he carefully cracks an eye open, relieved to find himself in the shade rather than faced with the bright morning sun. A quick glance around reveals that he's half-submerged in a tide pool, his upper half laying on the rocky edge and his legs in the water.

It's not terribly deep and his knees scrape against more rock as well as sea grass, a pair of fish scavenging for algae near his ankles darting away at the movement. Groaning again, Suigetsu manages to roll onto his back and doesn't mind the way the rock digs into him through his tattered shirt. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, breathing in the calm air and feeling the water of the pool lap against his legs and waist as he tries to recall what had happened.

A cloud, white and friendly, rolls by overhead to darken his patch of shade even more so and Suigetsu thinks back to the ship, recalling how he'd been knocked about, banged his head against the railing, and been sent over the edge and into the water. He'd been drowning, pulled under by the power of the ocean and as good as dead.

But something - someone had saved him and pulled him to the surface, warm and gentle despite their firm, determined grip on his body.

And had apparently dragged him ashore, judging by his current situation.

Suigetsu opens his eyes and his violet gaze travels over the rocky shore, taking in the sight of numerous tide pools and the ocean ahead. A stretch of about ten feet of rock separates him from the water and, as he twists to look behind him, he can see where the tide pools give way to more solid stone. A beach begins out to his right in the distance, the white sand nearly blinding in the sun, and feeds into dunes and tall grass as the earth slopes up. Directly behind him and out to his left is a tall cliffside, casting the shadow that's blanketing him. It stands tall and towering for a fair distance, even as the rocky shore suddenly drops off and leaves the ocean waves to break against the cliff's face.

He sighs and runs a hand through his white hair, gritty with sea salt as the water is starting to dry. Heaving himself up and onto the edge of the tide pool, he pulls his legs fully out of the water and lays back for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. His brief inspection of his surroundings hadn't shown any other signs of life - no row boats pulled up onto the beach and no bodies washed up like himself. From what he could remember, they hadn't been anywhere near the next port city before the storm hut, so it was very likely that he'd been brought to an uninhabited island.

Suigetsu frowns to himself, trying to recall the face of his rescuer. His memories are fuzzy, but fierce, determined eyes appear in his mind and his frown deepens as he stares up at the sky. Had they joined him on the island? Why weren't they here now, waiting for him to wake up?

Or had they been swept away before they could get themself to safety?

Sighing, Suigetsu sits up and decides to explore the beach. Maybe supplies from the ship had washed up or other survivors had set up camp in the woods.

Once he's standing, he finally spots the scrap of cloth hanging over the edge of another, larger tide pool between his own and the ocean. Suigetsu blinks, recognizing it as the sleeve to his jacket, and hurriedly moves to retrieve it - only to stop as he glances into the tide pool of itself and sees something curled up under the water.

It's a girl, he realizes after a moment of shocked confusion, but also definitely not . Long, coral pink hair spills over her shoulders and down her back as she lays curled up on her side on a bed of sea grass, her sleeping expression serene. The ledge she's laying on isn't the deepest part of the large pool, but she's fully submerged and Suigetsu would have been concerned had it not been for her scaled, aqua green tail.

Each scale glimmers and shines, even despite the shade of the cliffside, and her fins that fade to a paler shade of green are nearly translucent at the ends. Smaller patches of the scales are scattered over the shoulder and arm he can see and over her cheekbones, disappearing under her hair. A pointed ear pokes out from the stream of pink and the long, flowing fins at the end of her tail drape over the side of the ledge.

Her arm is tucked up close to her chest but he can still see the rise and fall of her breathing and her fins twitch occasionally, further confirming that he's looking at a very real, very alive, mermaid.

Suigetsu takes a cautious step forward and realizes that she's clutching the other sleeve of his grey jacket. As he debates whether he should try to retrieve it, she shifts and uncurls, air bubbles floating up to the surface of the water as she yawns and her tail stretches out. One of her arms reaches up and out of the water in a stretch and she pauses, seemingly caught off-guard by the feeling of air on her skin and scales and she immediately spots him when she opens her eyes.

Suigetsu gets a good look at familiar green eyes before she hurriedly slips off the edge of the tide pool shelf and into the deeper pocket of water. He quickly drops to his knees and peers over the side of the rocky edge to search for her, realizing why he recognized her eyes. The pool is deeper than he expected and he can barely see her tucked up against the rocks at the bottom, staring up at him. He searches through the shadows and stoney edges but can't find a path out of the tide pool and, as he sits back and looks out to the nearby ocean, he quickly comes to a conclusion.

"You saved me," Suigetsu says aloud, hoping the mermaid can hear him under the water as he grips the edge and stares down at her. He continues, already convinced that she'd been the one to pull him up from the depths of the ocean. "You dragged me ashore but got trapped here when low tide came. Didn't you?"

She simply stares back up at him with an unblinking gaze, her hair settling around her and her tail giving a short twitch. Suigetsu panics slightly at her silence - maybe she doesn't even understand him - but then she moves, her body relaxing as she sits up slightly and nods.

He's instantly grinning and moves forward, reaching into the water to hold out a hand towards her in offering. The mermaid hesitates, gaze flickering to his open hand, before pushing off from the bottom of the tide pool and floating up. Her hand is warm against his and Suigetsu gently pulls her back up onto the ledge of seagrass, relieved when she doesn't seem bothered by poking her head and torso up out of the water.

The gills lining the sides of her neck and along her ribs open once before sealing shut and she takes a breath of air, reaching up to tuck a wet strand of pink hair behind her ear. It's long enough to trail into the water, flat and clinging against her back and her bare - Suigetsu tries not to let his gaze travel downwards, his cheeks lighting up with pink - chest.

The two inspect each other for a long moment before he finally moves, changing positions to sit on the upper ledge and let his legs dangle in the water. Seagrass brushing against his bare feet, Suigetsu smiles at the mermaid, feeling a little breathless at being faced with a living folk tale.

"Thank you. For saving me." He reaches up, grinning sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck and ruffles his white hair. "I'm sorry that you got stuck here 'cause of me though."

She doesn't say anything, green eyes following the movement of his arm, but smiles and shakes her head. Turning her head, she looks out to the nearby ocean and shrugs, lifting a cupped hand out of the water and letting it spill back unto the pool.

"I don't know when the tide'll come back in," Suigetsu admits, guessing her thoughts. She can obviously understand him, but he's curious as to why she won't speak.

She shrugs again and leans back, settling on her makeshift bed, and he gets a better look at her. Disregarding the fins, she wasn't that big . Her tail was about 2/3rds of her body but surely she couldn't be that heavy…

Suigetsu looks to the strip of rock separating her from the ocean, assessing the distance as he frowns to himself. Yeah, he could totally do this.

"I think I could carry you over to the water," He announces, glancing over to gauge her reaction. The mermaid looks up at him in surprise before she pauses thoughtfully, her eyes roving over him assessingly as she frowns to herself.

"No, really," Suigetsu pulls his legs from the water and moves to his feet, crouching down as he holds out an arm. He grins down at her, fairly certain that she wasn't all that heavy. "It's better than having to wait for the water to rise!"

She hesitates for a moment, glancing over the strip of rock between her and the water, before offering a nervous smile and nodding. Suigetsu's grin grows determined as she reaches up towards him and he hooks an arm under her shoulder and wraps it around her, carefully pulling her higher out of the pool. Her arms curl around his neck and, once he can reach, his free arm hooks under her tail about where knees would be on a human. Taking care to keep his hands away from anywhere appropriate, Suigetsu slowly stands out of his crouch and takes a moment to find his balance.

She is lighter than he'd been expecting and he adjusts his hold slightly, curious at the feeling of her scales against his skin. He turns and, as the last of her trailing fins leave the water, they both realize that something odd is happening. Rather than smooth scales under his hand, he suddenly feels warm skin and they both look down to her tail, shocked to see it change.

It turns to water and drips off her form, sparkling scales falling like stars, and she gasps, attempting to move her new pair of very human legs but barely managing more than a twitch. Suigetsu stares before glancing to her face, reading her expression. While she doesn't seem to be in any pain from the change, she's obviously startled by it. Must be her… first time out of the water or something.

She sends him a wary, concerned look, managing to kick one of her legs slightly, and he replies with a reassuring smile.

"Let's… let's get you into the water. I bet it's just a temporary thing." He's never met a mermaid before so, of course , he has no idea if that's true, but it's the best solution he has and he doesn't want her to get freaked out.

With a small nod and her eyes still pinned to her legs, she tightens her hold around his neck and Suigetsu quickly, yet carefully, carries her over to the edge of the rocky shore. It's only a few short strides and she's even lighter without her tail, but the rocks are uneven and jagged so he's cautious with where he steps. The ocean is fortunately calm and there's no danger of the gentle waves smashing her against the rocks the moment she's back in the water, but he still slowly crouches back down until he's on his knees. Leaning out as far as he can without losing his balance, he carefully slips the mermaid into the water and holds his breath as he releases her.

She disappears under the surface and, for a few anxious moments, Suigetsu grips the edge of the rocks and peers down into the water. Then there's a flick of a pale green fin a few feet out and she pops back up, a wide smile on her face as she grabs the edge and rises to pecks his cheek.

He's stunned for a moment before he grins, letting out a relieved laugh.

"I wouldn't say we're even, since you saved my life and you would have probably been fine in the tide pool for a few hours," Suigetsu sits back, his grin widening as she rests her crossed arms on the stones and smiles up at him. Her returned tail splashes behind her, flinging water at him as he chuckles, his cheek still tingling from her kiss. "But I guess this is a step towards repaying you."

: :

"So, what is your name?"

After wandering the shore for hours, the mermaid following along beside him in the water, he'd eventually found a lagoon on the west side of the island and had decided to set up shelter there. His lean-to is set up at the edge of the beach, a decent effort after searching the nearby woods for materials, but he finds himself spending most of his time on the outcropping of rock that stretches out against another cliff. The small waterfall nearby gave him a source of freshwater and the lagoon itself seemed to be filled with fish, but rocks were large and flat and just the right place for him to sit and chat with her.

Well, 'chat' wasn't quite accurate.

It's the next evening now and they're enjoying a meal of fish as they relax on the rocks, her seat leaving her mostly submerged. She still hasn't spoken and Suigetsu hasn't pried, but he is curious. He'd introduced himself yesterday with little reply from her other than a smile and a nod and he didn't want to keep referring to her as 'the mermaid' in his thoughts.

She pauses, picking raw fish meat off of bones while he takes bites from the cooked one he'd skewered on a stick, and starts to open her mouth to answer. Hopeful, he leans forward, but she hesitates, frowns, and shuts her mouth with a click.

Suigetsu sighs but shrugs it off, taking another bite of his dinner.

"Ah, I get," He says, grinning down at her. "It's some sort of secret mermaid language that my human ears couldn't understand, huh?"

She laughs and it's the most lovely thing - even if her canine teeth are a little too sharp, a little too long - and his grin widens, feeling himself lean closer to her. When her laughter trails off and she tucks her pink hair behind her pointed ears, Suigetsu finally catches himself and leans back again, having come very close to falling into the water.

"Well," He continues, looking thoughtful as he rubs his chin. "How about I give you a nickname in my language?"

She regards him curiously and sets aside the scraps from her meal, nodding eagerly in agreement a moment later.

Suigetsu sits back and hums, looking up at the sky as he tries to think of what to call her. Quiet for a few moments, it's when he looks back down at her that he has an idea, unable to resist the urge to lean forward and catch a stray strand of her hair around his finger.

"Back home, there are these trees that bloom with flowers during the spring." He explains, letting her hair sleep through his fingers as she gazes up at him with those green eyes. Catching himself again, Suigetsu pulls away and tries to fight off his blush as he continues.

"They're, uh, the same color as your hair - that's what I'm getting at." Her head tilts, obviously curious, and his grin turns a little sheepish. "S-so, how about 'Sakura'?"

He waits for her reaction, trying to read her expression as she looks thoughtful for a few seconds. And then she's smiling brightly and nodding her approval. Suigetsu relaxes, returns the smile, and feels his chest grow warm.

"Sakura it is then."

: :

"Let her go."

Sakura makes a pained sound as one of the surviving crew members pulls her up higher with his fistful of her hair, sand clinging to her bare legs and a few of her fallen scales scattered over the beach. She's gripping the man's wrist, nails biting into his skin, and Suigetsu is standing some 15 feet away, another crewmate behind him and restraining his arms. Held back as he is, he can't intervene and is left turning his furious gaze on the man holding Sakura, demanding she be freed while the group of shipwreck survivors stand in a loose circle around them.

"It's a sea witch, boy." The man growls, ignoring the way her nails are making him bleed. "It's gone and put its siren spell on you!"

It's been two weeks since Suigetsu first woke up on the island. The first half he'd spent on his own with Sakura, days spent swimming in the lagoon and sharing fish they caught together, contented with their one-sided conversations and watching the sun set out over the ocean's horizon. She must have known where to find the shipwreck because, on more than one occasion, she brought scavenged tools and materials back to him after short disappearances that left him missing her more and more. Rope and cloth that were perfectly usable once they'd been dried out in the sun, a knife that wasn't too rusted, and a small, waterlogged telescope - such useful items that he immediately put to good use.

But then he'd stumbled upon the surviving crew from his ship. He'd been out collecting kindling for a fire when he'd bumped into one of the older men, who had quickly recognized Suigetsu and excitedly led him back to the camp they'd set up on the other side of the island. Met with mixed responses, he'd reluctantly joined their camp and had taken to sneaking away during the day to visit Sakura. He'd been wary of the crew's response to a living mermaid and had tried to keep the meetings as secret as possible.

But not secret enough.

"Just let her go!" Suigetsu growls again, eyeing the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Still unused to the human legs she gains when she's outside of the water, Sakura has little strength in them to support her body and she can't get enough leverage on the sailor's arm to alleviate the pressure. She'd been dragged out of the water just a little while ago and the scrapes and scratches from the rocks were still raw and bright in her skin, but no one besides Suigetsu seems to care for her safety.

"She hasn't done anything- hasn't hurt anyone!" He insists, angered by one of the crew's scoffs. "Release her!"

"I bet the damned creature is what sank the ship in the first place!" One of the crew says, brandishing his crudely made fishing spear. "Every sailor knows sirens will sink a whole ship just to drown the crew! If not to eat them alive!"

"She's not a siren." Suigetsu hisses, struggling against the man holding his arms. He knows the difference; he'd grown up on stories about all the creatures of the sea! Mermaids bring luck to sailors! And this one had saved his life.

"Sakura is my friend. She saved me from drowning!" Surely they could see reason, could see that she wasn't a danger to any of them.

He glances away from the men surrounding them to look to Sakura, blinking in confusion as he realizes that she's staring right at him, a concerning and almost apologetic expression on her face.

"The boy's calling it by name," Another sailor laments, as if it were a great tragedy. "The witch's got a firm grip on him now."

There's a murmur of agreement amongst the crew and the man gripping Sakura's hair holds up the knife he'd stolen from Suigetsu, pressing it close to her throat. She freezes in alarm, eyes flickering down to the blade, and bites down on her lip, trying to strain her neck away.

"Aye, lad." The sailor grunts, tightening his hold on her pink hair. "Once the creature is dead, you should be freed from its spell."

"NO!" Suigetsu's struggling turns violent and he manages to slam his head back to smash against a nose, the sailor restraining him letting out a pained shout and releasing his arms. He rushes towards Sakura but is tackled to the ground by two more crew, soon finding himself pinned down by a heavy boot on his back and sand digging into his cheek. Looking up, he finds the men regarding him with mixtures of anger and pity and Sakura's gaze full of concern as she tries to stay still.

The knife against her throat is pressing hard enough ro draw blood and Suigetsu lets out a furious growl, uncaring of the sand that gets in his mouth as he bares his teeth at the one threatening Sakura.

"He might be too far gone…" One man murmurs, earning a few hushed agreements. They watch him warily, as if he would try to attack at any moment.

"Days alone with the sea witch," Says a voice above him, likely from the one pinning him down. The boot is lifted suddenly, but, before Suigetsu can get away, a hand grabs a fistful of white hair and yanks him up.

"His mind's gone, lost to the creature's will," Growls that same voice, the other men watching grimly but not moving to intervene. "Best just to put the boy out of his misery."

Suigetsu sees the knife before the words fully register, the blade appearing out of the corner of his eye. He looks to Sakura and her green eyes are wide with panic, a thin stream of blood running down her throat.

And then she closes her eyes, parts her lips, and the world seems to come to a stop.

The blade stops inches from his throat as the sailor holding him suddenly freezes. All of the men suddenly stop moving, their eyes glazing over as the unnatural stillness takes control of their bodies. Suigetsu can feel a numbness in his limbs, tingling at his fingertips and sending a shiver up his spine, but he can still move . He shoves the hand holding the knife away from his neck and stumbles forward, the fist in his hair going slack and letting him slip free.

The sound of his own hands hitting the sand is muffled and distant to his ears and, finally, Suigetsu notices the singing.

It's soft and haunting, a melody rather than an actual song, and he feels the numbness creep up his limbs again before he shakes his head, clearing the fog in his mind. The voice is beautiful, mesmerizing and with just a slight rough edge to it - the voice of someone who's lived their life breathing in the sea's wind and tasting the salt in the air.

He doesn't realize his attention is being actively drawn away from the source until Suigetsu turns his head towards Sakura to watch her as she sings.

Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and the blade that had been held against her throat has been lowered. Pink hair falls loosely down her back and shoulders as she sits with her legs limp under her, the sailor's hand still outstretched and his fingers curled but empty.

Sakura's voice fills him entirely and with ease, caught in his own lungs and heavy in his heart, drowning out its beat and caressing his thoughts with a tender touch. But it flows through him just as easily, feeling returning to his limbs as she slowly opens her eyes, her pupils now narrowed to slits, and looks at him. Her gaze is full of remorse, even though he knows she's actively trying to omit him from the binding effects of her song. Suigetsu stares back at her, just as mesmerized as the men but not under her control.

Her soft gaze lingers on him for a few moments longer as she sings before her expression turns determined and vicious. Sakura moves her legs out from under her and forces herself to rise, managing to stand on wobbly legs. She takes a deep breath, her song pausing for just a moment, and steadies herself before holding her head high and walking forward. Her strides grow in strength and confidence and, though Suigetsu so desperately wants to move to her side to aid her, he finds himself stuck in place as he kneels in the sand.

The crew, however, seem to have no such difficulty now and follow Sakura in a trance and she heads towards the water. Her hands raise and turn, her palms facing the sky now cast in the warm tones of the sunset ahead of her. Her voice drowns out the other sounds of the beach and Suigetsu manages to turn to watch her lead the men to the ocean, unable to fully rise despite his efforts.

As the first gentle wave touches her feet, she turns to face him.

The sun is at her back, silhouetting her body with golden rays and shadowing the dark expression on her face. Still she sings, a true siren's call as she slowly walks backwards into the ocean, her gaze on Suigetsu while the men who would have them both killed follow her into the water. The sailors disappear under the waves one by one, walking until the shore is left behind and all that remains is Sakura's voice, until, that too, suddenly vanishes.

All is silent for a moment more before the sounds of the beach and the woods behind him suddenly burst to life once more. Everything remains still, but from a resolute calm rather than an unnatural spell, and Suigetsu watches the idle waves for some minutes, searching for signs of life - for the splash of fins, coral pink hair, and green eyes full of a warmth meant only for him.

He stays there, kneeling in the sand, until long after the sun has set and the sky turns dark.

: :

Suigetsu finds her, some hours later when he'd finally pulled himself to his feet and began to wander the shoreline, at the tide pools where he'd first officially met her.

The tide is receding, giving him ample footing to walk out to where he can see Sakura as she sits on the edge of the rocks and gazes up at the moon. She doesn't turn as he approaches, but she can undoubtedly hear him, and he quietly sits down next to her.

There's blood on her face, concentrated around her mouth, and he knows it's not her own. Sakura doesn't look at him, but he can feel her hesitance radiating off of her and he's fairly certain she's watching him out of the corner of her eye. They sit silently for some minutes and she slowly relaxes and, finally, Suigetsu leans back.

Hands braced behind him, he smiles up at the moon.

"That's twice you've gone and saved my life now." He says, turning his head slightly towards her. "I suppose that means I owe you double the debt."

Sakura laughs softly, leaning closer to him until her head is resting on his shoulder. She licks her lips then wipes at her mouth with the heel of her hand and her inner wrist, removing most of the blood.

"Yes," She replies, oh so softly. It's just a whisper, but even that is enough to make his fingertips numb and have him leaning closer to her, utterly intoxicated. "I suppose it does."

His fingers are sliding through her hair, one hand at the nape of her neck and the other at her waist as he pulls her closer. Her own find his face, cupping his jaw and playing with his white bangs as she gazes up at him, warm and content as she knows he does this of his own volition.

Suigetsu kisses her, tastes iron and salt and Sakura, and his heart sings.

#suisaku #suigetsu #haruno sakura #sakura fic #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #finally finished it aaaa

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