Twist me a crown of wind-flowers;
That I may fly away
To hear the singers at their song,
And players at their play.
Put on your crown of wind-flowers:
But whither would you go?
Beyond the surging of the sea
And the storms that blow.
Alas! your crown of wind-flowers
Can never make you fly:
I twist them in a crown to-day,
And to-night they die. (Christina Rosetti)
Ino is always the princess. Sakura is her brave samurai protector, or the hero prince come to rescue her or an evil bandit come to ravish her, or a loyal handmaiden teaching her lady the ways of love, but Ino is always the princess. Elegant, demure, adored. She is a princess such as only a kunoichi can depict, the stuff of fantasy. Real princesses are women like any others, maybe a little better mannered and dressed, Ino though, she is the dream of a princess. She is what every little girl wishes to grow up to be, she is what every man imagines of the damsel at the end of a heroic quest, she is at once unreal, and more real than any hime at a noble court.
Sakura thinks she’s beautiful.
Tonight Sakura is Samurai. She wears armour and swords, and binds her chest flat, her hair tied back, her eyes fierce. She strides into the room and bows before her lady.
“Ino hime, you sent for me?”
Ino’s kimono is layered in ocean shades of green and blue, her hair impeccably styled, and her eyes cast down demurely. Her voice is soft as she replies.
“My kingdom is doomed Sakura san. My father is dead, his army scattered to the winds, and it is only a matter of time before the castle wall fall and my enemies enter to take what they will as their prize. You should flee now Sakura san, I release you from your oaths, I would not have you dragged down by my family’s misfortune.” It should be cheesy, Sakura should be suppressing a giggle at the melodrama. But Ino is right there more perfect than any real princess ever could be and her attention is completely focused on Sakura, and somehow the lines seem right. Because this scene doesn’t belong anywhere outside a romance novel, a fantasy, and Sakura and Ino are kunoichi, they specialise in bringing fantasy to life.
“Nay Ino hime, I shall not leave you while I still breathe. It is not within your power to release me from the oaths I have sworn for I swore them of my own free will, out of love for you.” Ino came up with the script, she’s always had an overactive imagination, but it is Sakura who controls the scene, and so she steps forward, drops to one knee to kiss Ino’s hand with desperate restraint. Every inch the love stricken warrior, facing the loss of his lady.
“Truly Sakura san. Do you truly love me?” Outside these walls Ino never allows herself to be so unsure. Always the kunoichi, always in control, hard hitting and hard bitten, all smooth charm, and confidence. It means a great deal to Sakura, that her friend, her lover, is willing to make herself vulnerable before her.
“Until the stars throw themselves screaming into the ocean’s depths, and the flames of the sun devour the moon’s light. I swear it Ino hime. I love you. Let me take you away from here. Come away with me, somewhere no-one knows our names, where they’ll never find us. Be my wife, bear my children. We may not live in such wealth and luxury as this, but we would be happy.” Ino wonders at the force in Sakura’s tone as she speaks. Wonders if maybe the words don’t cut a little too close to the bone. Ino is not a princess, and Sakura is not a Samurai, but they are as bound by duty as the parts they play. They are ninja, bound to service, and sometimes Ino wonders what it would be like if they could run away, if they could just be, live and love, and raise children together away from the shadow of war. It’s just an idle thought though. This is who they are, heart and soul, they could no more run away and become civilians than a tiger could become a housecat. They are beautiful, and lethal, and neither of them would ever settle for being less.
“Maybe in another life Sakura san. But my place is here, for the sake of my people. For the sake of my father’s honour. I cannot abandon my duty now. I love you, but I cannot leave with you.” Ino fills her voice with resignation, and determination, and a thousand regrets, and allows a single tear to fall from one eye.
“Then my place is here at your side Ino hime. The castle will not stand another day, but if this is to be our final night, would you spend it with me?”
“Yes.” Ino whispers, as shy as the virgin princess she isn’t, and Sakura moves closer. Kisses her soft and sweet, and deep, with the fervour of doomed love. She undoes Ino’s hair first, letting the silky blond strands fall gently against her neck. Then she undresses her, slowly, reverently. Carefully folding each item of clothing before moving on to the next layer. Finally Ino is stripped bare on silken sheets, beautiful and innocent looking as all Kunoichi know how to be, and Sakura’s breath catches in her throat at the sight. She can’t help but touch, ghosting fingers over the gentle swell of Ino’s breasts, the smooth tautness of her stomach, moving one hand up to brush the hair out of her lover’s face.
“Touch yourself hime” She commands as she steps reluctantly away to divest herself of armour. The straps are a little stiff, and by the time she has managed to escape the outfit, Sakura is more than a little hot and bothered. She moves to straddle Ino, hands braced either side of Ino’s head as she leans in for another kiss. Still slow and sweet, but a little more demanding this time. Ino doesn’t like it if she breaks character, so she doesn’t, leaning back a little, she continues to touch, whispering her devotion to her princess. Light touches, barely there at all, interspersed with little butterfly kisses, chasing down Ino’s body to her inner thighs.
Ino gasps a little as Sakura’s mouth reaches her most private places. Lips, and tongue, and tiny little nips to remind her that her lover has teeth. Warmth spreading through her belly, and deeper, sparks and tingling between her legs with a slight flavour of not quite enough, and then suddenly Sakura’s fingers are there, touching her, in her, exploring her insides with gentle swirling movements that leave her fingers scrabbling at the sheets.
Sakura knows when she hits the right spot by the acceleration of Ino’s heartbeat, the artery in her thigh pulsing against Sakura’s cheek. The taste of Ino is odd but not unpleasant, less bitter than Naruto, and smoother, and the warmth of Ino’s core is intoxicating. Sakura takes one hand and starts teasing herself a little as she drives Ino wild.
The sensations build until something snaps and leaves Ino seeing stars, Ino’s vision, whites out, but Sakura keeps on going, mercilessly. Hyper sensitised as she is it doesn’t take long for Ino to come again, and then a third time. Sakura steps away before the fourth. Stopping to retrieve something from a box under the bed. Ino is too overwhelmed to try and see what it is, she’s pretty sure she knows anyway. A pressure against her entrance, confirms her first guess.
Sakura pushes into Ino slowly, the end of the strap on a pleasant pressure against her own more intimate areas. She moves gently to start with, but Ino’s plea’s of pleaseSakurasanclaimmeshowmepleasefasterharder move her to increase the pace. She slams in hard, again and again. The taste of Ino still in her mouth, the sound of Ino coming apart under her, the friction of the strap-on rubbing up against that spot that sends sparks flying through her veins, it’s almost too much, it’s just perfect, and Sakura bites her lip as she comes.
Ino feels wrung out by the time Sakura withdraws, and she doesn’t complain as Sakura wraps herself around her. The warmth of Sakura’s skin against her own is a familiar comfort. Despite her exhaustion though, Ino isn’t quite ready to fall asleep. Just like when they were little, on sleepovers, staying up far beyond exhaustion, talking to each other. Besides, there’s a question she’s just dying to know the answer to.
“So where did you get the Samurai armour?” Ino doesn’t need to look ‘round to know that Sakura is blushing.
“There’s a shop… that sells, items, of a certain nature.” Ino grins.
“You mean a sex shop. Hang on, how do you know where to find a sex shop.” Sakura sighs
“Kakashi sensei.” Ino thinks about it for a moment.
“I’m not entirely sure I want to know why your sensei is taking you to sex shops. Although given it’s your sensei”
“It’s nothing like that. It’s just that after me and Naruto got ourselves into trouble improvising, Kakashi sensei and Iruka sensei decided we needed some friendly advice. It was horrifyingly embarrassing, but we probably deserved every minute, and on the plus side I now know where to go to obtain kinky sex outfits.” Sakura is determined to take something positive out of the experience.
“Kakashi sensei and Iruka sensei?”
“Yeah apparently they’re together. We found that one out the hard way. Word of advice, if you ever sense an extra chakra signature in your sensei’s apartment, knock before you enter.” Sakura shudders and grips Ino tighter.
“That bad huh?”
“Iruka sensei is shockingly kinky, Kakashi sensei is predictably perverted. The worst part is I still can’t decide if it was mortifying or incredibly hot.” Ino’s thoughts wander through the intriguing possibilities.
“Could it be both?”
“I never knew Kakashi sensei was that flexible. I would say it most definitely could be both.” They both giggle a little, like the children they used to be.
“We should sleep now. I have a hospital shift tomorrow.” Sakura’s voice is practical but the way she clings to Ino is tender and protctive. Both their dreams are blissfully free of nightmares.