Chapter 2
The towering arches of Konoha's gate rose like a beacon, a welcome sight for Sakura's travel-worn eyes.
Team Seven slowed from their sprint, moving as if on autopilot. In a single file, they trudged toward the gate, exhaustion etched into every step. The Genin guards stationed at the entryway dared to halt Kakashi, citing regulations about proper identification.
Kakashi snapped his eye open, the Sharingan spinning ominously as its power bore down on them. The two younger shinobi fell silent instantly, their protests dying in their throats. For a brief moment, Sakura almost felt sorry for them. But honestly, who would be foolish enough to demand IDs from a team renowned for their skill, so much so that they did not bother carrying such incriminating identifiers in the first place?
They entered the village, taking the quickest route to the Hokage’s office.
Sakura passed by children playing their games out in the streets. They smiled so effortlessly and their laughs echoed around them. They had never known what it felt like to suffer, to watch a friend die, or to take a life. She hoped they never would.
The towering Hokage building loomed ahead, its presence both reassuring in its familiarity and foreboding. Sakura's burdens and the truths she would soon have to confront weighed heavily on her mind. She adjusted her pace, letting the rhythmic click of her boots on the stone path steady her nerves as she approached the front entrance.
It seemed as though the winding staircase to the top of the building would never end, each step an insurmountable drain on her already depleted energy. Eventually, the double doors to Tsunade’s office came into view, flanked by two masked Anbu members.
Her eyes widened in recognition of the guard on the right.
His thick, silky brown hair, held back by his tiger mask, caught her attention like it always did. But, the silhouette of his body was even harder to ignore. Broad shoulders, carved with muscle, led down to a chest that filled out the fabric of his sleeveless shirt perfectly. His pants, tight and fitted, hinted at the strength in his legs.
She passed him, her expression carefully neutral, though the memory of the way he had been inside her less than a week ago lingered just beneath the surface.
Tsunade sat at her desk; her golden eyes fiercer than normal. Kakashi’s summons had delivered a vague mission report hours earlier, but the Hokage would undoubtedly be demanding the full details.
The formidable woman rose, bracing her weight on the tips of her fingers, pressing into the edge of her desk.
“I hope you’re happy, Naruto,” Tsunade said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
Sakura shut her eyes with a soft sigh. It was clear her mentor was not planning to take the high road.
Tsunade’s words spilled out, heavy with years of frustration. “Your little deal with the elders to protect that boy has brought war upon us.”
Naruto hung his head, his shoulders slumped in defeat. But Tsunade was not finished.
“Was pledging the Jinchuriki’s powers to those fools worth delaying the kill order? Was it worth the lives of all those women and children who are dead because of your inability to set aside your emotions?”
There was some truth to the Hokage’s words. But Sakura could not shake the feeling that this was not the right time for such a conversation. Not while the pain of Sasuke’s actions still lingered so sharply in Naruto’s heart.
“Shisou,” Sakura tried to interject.
Tsunade’s hand slammed down on the desk, her eyes locked on Naruto with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. “No, Sakura!” she snapped, her tone sharp. “He needs to hear this.”
But then Tsunade’s gaze softened for just a moment, flicking to Sakura, an unspoken understanding passing between them. The anger in Tsunade’s eyes was not directed at her, but at the stubbornness of the man before her. Her anger was reserved for Naruto’s decision to protect Sasuke. A choice that had been unpopular with many, Sakura included.
The Hokage left the security of her massive desk and closed the distance between herself and Naruto.
“Sentimentality gets people killed,” she said, her voice cold and steady. “You should have dealt with the Uchiha long ago. You went behind my back once before, but you can’t stop this now. He will die, and you need to remember where your loyalties lie.”
Sakura held her breath, the tension in the air too thick for comfort. Sakura knew Naruto would accept responsibility for letting the situation with Sasuke get out of hand, but he would not take kindly to his allegiance to Konoha being questioned.
Naruto lifted his head slowly, his jaw tight, and met Tsunade’s piercing gaze.
“I will always be loyal to Konoha,” Naruto ground out, his voice betraying the anger that had started to burn within him. “I’ve never given you any reason to doubt that."
It was a deliberate throat clear from her sensei that finally diffused the standoff.
“Hokage, my team is exhausted, and we would prefer to discuss the details of the mission now,” Kakashi interjected smoothly, his calm tone cutting through the charged atmosphere.
With one more glance at Naruto, Tsunade spun around and walked back to her desk. She sat in her chair and looked at Kakashi expectantly.
“Report then, Hatake.”
Later that night, Sakura sat in her shower, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. She watched as the grime of the mission slowly rinsed off her, temporarily staining the water in the bottom of the tub. The swirling mixture of soap, dirt, and blood disappearing down the drain was a harsh reminder of the messy, violent life she led.
As she worked the suds into her long, pink hair, she could almost feel the silkiness of her strands savoring the touch, having been neglected for far too long.
Her gaze drifted to the tiled wall, her mind distant. She wondered if she should be crying.
Isn’t that what was expected?
But Sakura had long since lost touch with what was normal. All she knew now was how to survive.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she padded out of the bathroom, the familiar weight of her thoughts still clinging to her. The water, now lukewarm and uninviting, had ceased to offer her any relief. Besides, she could not afford the luxury of solace, not tonight. She had to get ready.
Sai had insisted that Team Seven get together for drinks, a tradition they usually followed to celebrate the end of a mission. But this time, no one had really been in the mood. Sai, ever the one to worry about the bonds holding the team together, had guilt-tripped and badgered them until they reluctantly agreed. It was not often that Sai pushed for something like this, and they all knew it, so they had given in.
She was greeted by a familiar figure reclining on her bed.
“I figured I’d be seeing you tonight.”
“Your team is wondering where you are,” the man with the tiger mask responded, the vocal henge making his voice deep and gravelly.
How would he know that? Sakura wondered.
She finally took notice that Tiger was no longer in his Anbu uniform. Instead, he had switched to the standard slacks and flak vest most off-duty shinobi wore.
“You overheard them at the bar?” she guessed.
He nodded in response.
Sakura arched an eyebrow, disbelief flickering in her eyes as she scoffed lightly. “So, you went home, grabbed your mask, and then came to find me?”
“If you had seen how you looked earlier, you’d have done the same,” he countered smoothly.
It was a shockingly nice gesture. One that she had not been prepared for. They did not delve into feelings. Nor did they talk about anything that mattered. What they had was purely physical and therefore, uncomplicated.
She flashed him a teasing smile, eager to shift the conversation. “You know, insulting a woman’s looks isn’t exactly the best way to get laid.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. You all looked…devastated.”
Sakura’s breath caught for a moment, but she quickly pushed aside the flicker of vulnerability his words sparked. She was not ready to talk about the mission. Opening herself up emotionally only led to pain. She had learned that lesson long ago.
Sakura turned away from him, feigning interest in the contents of her dresser. Her movements were deliberate and slow, as she let the towel draped around her chest loosen and slip down her body. The soft fabric pooled at her feet, revealing her bare figure to the man behind her, every curve illuminated in the dim light.
“Sakura,” the man behind her admonished. If she had to guess, he was displeased with her emotional avoidance.
“If you’re just wanting to talk, then maybe you should leave," she said over her shoulder, her tone laced with challenge. It was impossible to read Tiger’s expression behind the mask, but the rigid tension in his body spoke volumes.
"Maybe I’ll find a real man to take care of me tonight," she added, daring him to react.
In an instant, he was behind her. His hands gripped her hips with bruising force.
"I came here to see if you were alright," he growled. "Stop teasing me."
She let out a breathless laugh, meeting his intensity head-on. "Don’t act so noble," she shot back, her eyes daring him to break. "We both know why you're really here.”
He chuckled, seeming to switch tactics. "Funny, considering I had two women practically begging me to take them home tonight. But instead, I’m here because your team couldn’t stop worrying about you." His mask brushed against her cheek, his words somehow curling into her ear like a private confession. "If all I wanted was sex, I had far easier options."
Sakura leaned back into him, pressing her ass firmly against his hips, where the unmistakable evidence of his arousal betrayed him.
“Easier? Maybe,” Sakura argued. “But let’s be honest, nothing else could ever be this satisfying.”
For a moment, the room felt suspended in tension. Then, Tiger made his decision. His grip on her hips released, only for his hands to shove her forward, pressing her chest down onto the smooth surface of the low dresser. Her cheek rested against the cool wood, the contrast to the heat coursing through her body making her shiver.
This is what she needed.
“Please,” she whispered, desperation creeping into her voice.
Make me forget.
The soft clink of a belt buckle broke the silence.
“Keep your eyes shut,” Tiger demanded.
Anticipation coiled deep in Sakura’s stomach as she waited for him to make his move. The sudden, deliberate swipe of his tongue between her legs caught her completely off guard, and she instinctively tried to pull away. His grip tightened, unyielding, holding her in place as he pushed her legs wider apart and began to ruthlessly devour her.
His warm mouth moved with maddening expertise, alternating between shallow thrusts into her slick heat and long, agonizing sucks on her clit. The combination was electric, each touch drawing her further under his spell. Slowly, her tension melted away, and she surrendered to the fire that was building deep in her core, each stroke building it higher and hotter.
Tiger rose abruptly from his knees, leaving Sakura whining softly at the sudden loss of contact.
“So needy,” he murmured with a low chuckle, the amusement clear in his voice. Heat flooded her cheeks, his words igniting both embarrassment and desire. He always knew exactly how to unravel her. He traced slow, deliberate paths along the curve of her thighs, across the swell of her ass, and back again, never giving her what she so desperately craved.
The ache between her legs became unbearable, her body throbbing to be touched. Unable to resist, she arched her hips, a silent plea for him to end her torment and finally touch her where she burned for him most.
“Oh?” His voice dripped with mock innocence. “Did you need something?”
Kami, she hated him. Hated the smugness in his tone, the way he made her crave him even more with every teasing word.
“Fuck you,” she spat in frustration. Sakura couldn’t even open her eyes to glare at him, the need to protect his Anbu identity keeping her from doing so. Still, she hoped the bite of her tone conveyed her displeasure.
A sharp slap cracked through the air just before the sting spread across her right asscheek, making her gasp.
Rough hands tangled in her hair, yanking her head back off the dresser. Her scalp stung, but Sakura had never been wetter. Warm lips pressed against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down the back of her neck as his breath whispered over her skin.
"That’s not how we ask for things,” he murmured.
Sakura clenched her jaw, forcing down the frustration bubbling inside her. Tiger was unpredictable, a master at testing her limits. She had fought him before, only to be met with his cold refusal, leaving her unsatisfied and aching for more.
Men like him thrived on bending strong women to their will, and she found release in giving up control.
She swallowed her pride down. “I need you to touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Good girl.”
A bolt of pleasure shot through her, igniting every nerve. It was absurd how easily his words unraveled her, leaving her delirious with need. She felt Tiger's body align with hers, his hardness pressing against her as he guided her into position. He bent her forward with a firm grip on her arms, his hold unyielding yet possessive, keeping her locked against him. Sakura’s breaths came hard and shallow, her heart pounding and her body quivering under his touch.
When he finally pushed inside her, the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect fullness that stole her breath. Their moans spilled into the air, raw and unrestrained, blending together so completely it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
“Yes, Sakura," Tiger groaned, his voice thick with desire as he drove into her, deep and unrelenting.
Sakura braced herself against the furniture, her fingers gripping the edge as she struggled to steady herself under the force of his thrusts. His movements were slow yet powerful, leaving her body entirely at his mercy.
She felt herself stretch to accommodate him, his length and girth filling her just as intensely as he always did. The faint edge of discomfort melted into a rising wave of pleasure, her body instinctively responding, picking up right where his tongue had left off.
She exhaled a shuddering sigh of relief. This was exactly what she needed.
Tiger quickened his pace, somehow knowing she was ready for it. Each thrust grazed the spot deep within her that sent jolts of pleasure up her spine, forcing her back to arch.
“Just like that,” Sakura managed to choke out, her voice trembling, her moans tangling with her words.
His hand slid to her neck, tightening in a savage grip that stole her ability to breathe.
The man knew how to give her the perfect blend of pleasure and pain.
His other hand went to the front of her and found the little bundle of nerves that his mouth had teased earlier, pressing circles. It was enough for her to lose control, tipping her over the edge she had been teetering on so precariously.
Pleasure surged through her, each wave radiating from her core as her walls clenched tightly around Tiger. Sakura’s mouth opened in silent ecstasy as her body trembled from the powerful climax that crashed over her. She clung to the moment, her partner’s firm hold on her neck the only thing keeping her grounded.
Tiger let out a guttural “Fuck,” his hips slamming roughly into her a few final times before he spilled deep inside her, her pulsing walls having pushed him past his own limit.
Sakura finally collapsed onto the dresser, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. The man followed, his weight pressing against her as he rested his head on her bare back, their heavy breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath of their shared release.
She kept her head lowered as he pulled away moments later, quickly fastening his pants with a practiced ease.
Tiger’s hand brushed softly over her cheek, his touch a gentle contrast to the harshness of moments before. His voice was muffled, the mask now back in place. "Your team is still expecting you. You should join them.”
By the time she sat up, rubbing the weariness from her eyes, the man was already gone, leaving only the lingering echo of his presence.