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She nuzzled into the comforter of her bed, plush and soft on her skin. A smile lazily spread over her lips, clearly as snug as a bug wrapped up in the blankets. She curled and wriggled her toes before stretching her limbs out, rolling a little in the small divot her body had molded into the mattress. She hardly moved an inch when she slept as hard as she did. Her hair was wild and her eyes were only just barely peeking through the mess of her dark bangs. The fresh linen on her bare body was one of the world’s greatest sensations and she yawned once more before fully relaxing back into the bed. Her hands grasped at the nearest thing to bring close.
A pillow, cool and the perfect softness to cuddle, nuzzling deeply into the scent it carried. She smiled wider.
Itachi.
He always smelled so good like a quiet walk through the woods early in the morning. A gentle kind of scent, one that caressed her senses and lulled it right back into the promise of sleep. She wriggled her hips and rubbed her legs together, musing over her lover’s comforting smell.
But he wasn’t there.
The young man was likened to a temperamental cat—coming and going and only whenever he had the time. Their’s was a strange sort of arrangement. It had started with an odd proposal of release after one two many missions where death seemed to chase their coattails. She wanted to rip her virginity bandaid off, asking her old teammate seemed appropriate (even though it was not) and he had been professional about it.
They were young—twenty and barely old enough to think for themselves. It seemed like an easy thing to do. A source of release with someone safe and willing to not put too many attachments onto it. The arrangement was perfect in the sense that he was a good lay and she had a very comfortable bed. What was he to do when his obligations as ANBU had practically eaten up all his time while his life as an Uchiha painted a target on his back. There was no time to find someone to settle down with, no time to find someone who’d spend their life waiting for him to come home, or if he’d come home that day.
She was busy with her new position at the academy. A new squad of genin she’d been assigned had already eaten up most of her time as an individual. She wanted to devote most of her free time into teaching her pupils all that they could learn. There wasn’t much time in between to sort through the men who’d been interested in her.
Yes, the arrangement had been so perfect.
She snuggled deeper into the pillow. Perfect.
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Tap. Tap. Tap.
Three raps on her windowpane and her eyes fluttered open, pushing upwards on her hands. It had been a busy day, one in which she had to watch her students fight over who knows what drama ensured between twelve year olds. It made her brain pound and sleep had never been so welcoming. She’d have to come up with a team building exercise soon...
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The taps echoed the same rhythm, and she tilted her head towards the window, a figure perched on her windowsill. A smile lazy to her lips as she sluggishly sat up and pushed the window open, wide enough for the figure to slip in easily before she shut it once again. He was nimble to avoid stepping all over her bedsheets and quick enough to remove his sandals as a curtesy. She rubbed at her eyes and watched him silently undo the zippers on his shoes.
He was always quiet. Itachi hardly ever said much in their time spent like this. It wasn’t a moment for her to get to know him in fact she knew very little about the ANBU that slipped into her bed. His mask was left on the table, as his chest plate and forearm guards followed close behind. He didn’t have any weapons except his hip pouch full of shuriken and wire so she figured he must have only barely swung by the ANBU barracks before coming directly to her place after a mission. A strange sensation blossomed in her chest at the thought. She shoved the feeling away.
She scooted to the edge of the bed, her hands on either side of her as he approached the mattress. His eyes were dark and his face held a strange expression she didn’t bother to ask about. It was best not to pry, even as his hand threaded themselves into the hair by the nape of her neck, pulling her into a kiss as he leaned down to meet her lips. The ends of his bangs tickled at her collar and cheeks and his kiss was sweeter than sin. It pulled a sigh from her lips when he parted for a breath. Something was different about the way he did it; there something much more intimate in it, like he’d been waiting all day just for a single kiss.
He moved over her and scoot their way back into bed, caging her within his arms and she brought her hands to the ends of his black spandex undershirt. Her warm fingers slipped under the offensive garment, touching the icy skin. When her legs parted his hips sank to hers but instead of their usual rhythmic rutting, he was still. Falling to his forearms as his hands brushed away her bangs from her forehead. When his mouth left hers to lay a trail from the corners of her mouth, her cheekbones, then her forehead, her heart pounded loudly. She was hyper aware of how gentle he was being and it was beginning to concern her.
This didn’t feel like a moment of release, this felt like something else and her head spun in circles trying to figure out when the dynamic had changed. Her hands went to work on his shirt and he leaned up leaving her to hasten the task of throwing it over his shoulder. She sat up on her own forearms, her hair mussed up and face flushed pink in the dim light. Among the dark sheets her form was light and the oversized white shirt she wore made her look like an angel.
As soon as she could catch her breath he stole it away with another mind numbingly saccharine kiss. A gentle hand sliding it’s way up her thighs, the tingly sensations of his lithe cold fingers dancing up to her hip, all the while his lips formed unspoken declarations of affection. It was almost too slow and sweet for her tastes. Despite the alarms ringing in her head, she thread her fingers into his soft hair, gently scraping at the nape of his neck. She knew it curled his toes in satisfaction.
His lips met with her neck, never in one place too long to leave a mark. Itachi’s hand slid down to the crook of her knee, bending it up to get closer, before sliding back up to get rid of her night shirt. It was an easy task, thrown somewhere to the side, leaving her bare to him. She expected his usual assault upon her breasts but it never came, just more tender kisses and soft caresses.
Her head was heavy with lust and she sighed, “You’re certainly taking your time tonight.” It was meant as a joke, a simple light hearted jape to keep the atmosphere from shifting into anything too serious. She gave him a lopsided smirk when he finally looked up at her. It nearly melted away when she looked in his eyes. The way he was looking at her was not the way you looked at someone you fucked casually. He’d always had an intense stare but this was like he was staring right into her. She’d never gone under his infamous genjutsu but she figured this was something similar—felt frozen and exposed in a way she couldn’t explain. It made her heart race, her palms clam, her breath hitch.
For the first time since he’d entered her apartment, he spoke, “Do you want me to stop?”
The part of her that had been on red alert since he first kissed her screamed ‘Yes!’, but her hammering heart begged ‘No...’ and she blinked owlishly at the man over her. He waited, stared, and stilled every bit of himself until she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I...No, don’t...” Her voice was small under his gaze.
And the air had plummeted into something fuzzy and suffocating all at the same time when he resumed his torturously slow seduction. Finally like a starved woman given a morsel, he moved his hands down the front of her stomach, cold digits slipped under the band of her underwear, and the gasp that parted her lips was swallowed up by his mouth. He was deliberately drawing it out now. Slipping his fingers in between her lips, thumb circling the nub that sent thousands of watts throughout her limbs, his tongue on hers. It was all too much.
She scrambled around her purchase from his upper arms to his shoulders and eventually his chest. Her open palms spread across his chest, dancing across a few pale scars that she should never ask about. There was an moment when his mouth left hers to leave those addicting little kisses all across her collarbone and shoulder, and his fingers slipped inside of her. The sheer difference in temperature eliciting a sharp exhale. Her hands pushed on his chest, “Itachi! W-wait, wait...”
She didn’t understand why he was going to all these lengths. It wasn’t about pleasure for her or for him. It was supposed to be a release, but all of his actions had been so carefully planned around her. Not a single bit of him was acting selfishly and she pushed him back. The feeling of him inside her leaving slowly enough to make her bite down on her lower lip.
With her chest heaving, and her eyes nearly watering, she kept him at bay with her hands, “What’s gotten into you?”
“You,” He spoke plainly. His own ponytail was loose and his hair was a mess from the grip she’d had on it before. “I want you, all of you.”
“I-I don’t understand...” She swallowed. Her sinking suspicion coming to the forefront of her mind now. She understood. There was little she did not understand in this moment, whether she accepted the truth presented to her was another matter entirely.
“I want you. I don’t want a piece of you. I don’t want a thirty minute snapshot. I want it all. I want you...to want me back,” his tone was even the whole way through his admission. This wasn’t something he’d pulled out of thin air. Itachi looked absolute in his confession, searching her face for a sign that he’d gotten through, convinced her to throw her arms around his neck, pull him close and whisper the words he’d fantasized falling from her lips. If he’d wanted anything for himself, it was her.
Her hands stayed very still on his chest, her warmth seeping into his pores, and his heart hammered against his bones. There was so much time before her answer came out, a timid response, “I need to think about that...I...can’t just...”
She was pushing him away. There was not an easy way to say it. Itachi’s eyes dropped for a fraction of a second before hardening against his own emotions, not letting a single one shine through his dark eyes. He was ANBU after all and emotions were a hindrance; he only needed a reminder.
Without her last physical push, he sat up, her warmth leaving him in the dark shadows of her room once again. Itachi went to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his thighs. He did not hunch, he sat straight and rigid and she moved to pull the sheet around her bare body.
A wave of something washed over her as she looked at his bare back. He was so still like a statue, quiet and unmoving. Her fingers twitched to touch the broad expanse of pale flesh, but doing so would only make everything more confusing. She didn’t want to complicate things—she liked the way they were. Clean cut lines and boundaries and suddenly they were blurry and uneven.
“Itachi...” her voice called out to him, yet he didn’t acknowledge it. With a another painful second to bare, he stood and began to gather his belongings. She sat entangled in her sheets as he put the discarded items on once more. Each one more brick around him, and the last stone was his mask. He held it in his hands before throwing her one last look that lasted too short. With a nod, he said a curt goodbye and the mask was on.
In a puff of smoke he disappeared from her apartment. She fell back into her pillows, a heavy weight upon her heart.
Did she want more from him?
Did she want him the way he wanted her?
Relationships with ANBU were always complicated, strange even. Dangerous at worst. Could she stand do hold her own life in danger at the expense of her heart? What if it endangered her students or if they had kids? All these thoughts ran a mile a minute in her brain.
Sleep evaded her for the first time in years.
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Her nights were filled with racing thoughts about Itachi. She had not seen the man in three weeks since they’d last spoken. Or rather, since he’d left her apartment after she spit on his confession. It was hard to sleep. She would close her eyes and all she’d see was that longing swirling in the black expanse of his eyes waiting to engulf her.
Her decision to think had not entirely paid off. She was still at odds with herself—unable to make the choice of whether or not she’d want to be with him seriously. And to top it all off, there was a rising pressure for her team to start training for the upcoming chuunin exams. They were a talented trio, but she was worried that they’d find a way to step on one another to get ahead. It had been another weight on her chest. And the nights were lonely save for a conjured up image of something that got her rocks off in the middle of the night.
She was curled up in her bed again, her knees bent up to her chin, tucked in herself, and exhausted from the day. Her heart was shot to shit and her nerves were fried, she wanted nothing more than to collapse into a limp noodle and pass out. Her mind ran miles chasing the same thoughts, keeping her from the one thing she wanted—sleep.
Itachi, Itachi, Itachi...
Over and over. Her heart beat to the syllables of his name, a solemn metronome. She stretched out in her bed, her hands clasped to her chest, staring up at her dark ceiling. Restlessly, she tapped her fingers over her heart, hoping it would ease the dull ache. She flipped over onto her side, and stared out the window, the lights of Konoha were a sea of stars. She closed her eyes, trying to drag herself into some semblance of sleep.
She could only think of Itachi.
Opening her eyes a little, she groaned in annoyance, only to lift her head and punch her pillow. She cursed under her breath, hands covering her face.
Dark, brooding, beautiful Itachi, who’d laid his feelings bare only to have them crushed under her hesitance. There were hundreds of cons to reciprocating his feelings! The fear of death topping the charts, as well as the doubt she had of his words. He didn’t know much about her; this being the exact reasoning. She didn’t know much about him outside of his relative fame in the village for being an Uchiha and a prodigy shinobi. He was ANBU which meant that he was probably touch starved and being his only (to her knowledge) point of release he could just be attached to the thought of her. It could very well be a superficial attraction that was parading itself around in his mind as real desire. There was no way she could bet it all on his word.
On top of that, she couldn’t even sort out her own emotions. There had always been a dull ache when he left, she worried about him when he didn’t show up for months on end, and she was happy to see him every time. Could she say it was...?
She slapped her hands over her eyes, a loud sigh signaling the start of her restless evening once again.
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The next three weeks she didn’t receive any contact Itachi and she presumed he was either on another one of his lengthy missions or he was simply avoiding her entirely. She couldn’t very well march up to ANBU headquarters and ask where the man was. (It was most certainly out of her measly teacher’s pay grade.) She would be lying if she didn’t stay up a little late hoping he’d tap on her window. He never showed. For three weeks, she did not see the black haired ANBU, and for three weeks she was riddled with a dull ache in her chest. Like heartburn but a little milder. She suppressed the sensation as much as she could to go about her day relatively normal and to something short of a miracle, it worked.
It worked out far too nicely, considering that on the last day of her work week, a young man perhaps a little younger than herself can bounding into her personal space, a shy expression painted over him.
He grinned wide, “Heya, Teach!”
She recognized him as one of the newest chuunin to graduate—a cheery young man who was hardly at an age to address her so informally. She loved most of the graduated chuunin students this year—a bright bunch with good things going for them. They’d been taught by the teachers with talent and heart and it had been a fascinated bunch to watch grow up—with the exception of that year’s Team 7 which including the seeming never ending rivalry that existed between Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha.
As a teacher worried about her own set of problems that ensued between this year’s new genin. Besides, Sasuke Uchiha was involved, and she had deemed the subject too close to her own precarious relationship with Itachi. She kept her nose out of the mess.
But this young gentlemen was Kiba Inuzuka, and he’d had a look about him that spelled out trouble. She was just about to leave for her home, hands full of paperwork and mind full of occupied thoughts. She almost collided with him directly. Unfortunately, the young shinobi has a bit of a personal boundary problem. In that, he had none.
She took a small step backwards and smiled brightly, “Inuzuka-san, how are you?”
He had his hands on his hips before switched them to back of his head, “Eh, I was hoping to talk to you, Teach.”
“Hm?” She tilted her head, a little confused. But also wondering what he needed from her that his own Sensei could not provide. “I can answer any questions to the best of my ability, so go ahead.”
“R-right, um, well, it’s not really about anything...uh, it’s not educational...”
Now she was even more unsure of what he was doing, but her gut instinct was warning her as he fidgeted a little more. “Inuzuka-San?”
And with a low bow, his hands pressed together above his head, “Will you go on a date with me, Sensei!?” It was loud enough to draw a few wary glances of disapproval and she quickly bowed her head in apology to the few passerby’s. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, she tapped the young man awkwardly, “Ah, Inuzuka-san, I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your offer.”
The boy was flush in the cheeks when he chuckled out an embarrassed sigh. He had one hand behind his head, and the other on his hip, “I-I somehow expected that. Er, well, I should’ve known a cute girl like you’d already be dating someone, right?”
Now it was her turn to be embarrassed, and she brought a hand to her burning cheek. In the front of the academy, of all places to confess to a teacher...
“I should’ve probably asked if you were going with another guy,” he mumbled. “Is there any chance I could challenge him for your hand?” He was probably half-joking, but there was something in his eyes that held onto some bit of hope. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, a swelling in her heart as the image of Itachi flashed in her head like a neon sign.
She wrinkled her nose and giggled into the back of her hand at the thought of the teen finding out his rival. It wasn’t like she’d reciprocated Itachi’s feelings; she didn’t know what else to say. This crush couldn’t persist and (y/n) did not want to be the one to drag along a teenage boy with false hope. Though, it should be best not to completely screw up whatever bravery he had enough to confess. (
Then, she remembered how rough she’d been on Itachi’s heart...
) She thought it best not mention any names, instead for a more humorous response, “I don’t know if he’d be able to hold back, Inuzuka-san, are you prepared to fight to the death?”
He seemed startled but with a shaky laugh and a wave of his hand, he began his retreat into his own rejection, “Pfft, probably too busy myself anyways. Maybe I’ll see ya ‘round, Teach! Okay! Bye!”
Kiba was already down the path and out of the gate by the time (y/n) had moved. Her shoulders slumped. Now, she really wanted to lay down.
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Her pathetic love life consisted of teenage boys’ hormonally driven confessions and a train wreck of (not so) casual sex. Which is why when her coworker, a fellow teacher with probably way more time than need be on her hands offered her a blind date ‘worth the time’. Of course, she was hesitant. She hadn’t been on a date since she was eighteen and that had ended in poor taste. (If anything she could at least get a free meal from it.)
So, dolled up and unusually fresh faced she met up with her blind date. Someone from the T&I Department, a sweet faced brunette with pretty blue eyes. He was a Yamanara, a long line of them all working in T&I or Intel, they were all about picking apart your brain. It didn’t bother her having a knack for genjutsu herself it gave them something to talk about over dinner. The dinner turned into drinks and the night went longer than planned. He walked her home and she kissed him on the cheek— warm .
They stood there for a moment before she felt a warm knot in the bottom of her stomach. She was old enough to know it was that scratch she would never be able to reach on her own. That bit of nerves that Itachi had wound so tight and never undid, she tilted her head. It would be an opportunity to wash away her anxiety. That maybe she was feeling like this because Itachi had been her only source of sex in the past two years. It could come to prove that she was just attached to the sex and not the man himself. Someone she hardly knew anything about beyond his file in the Hokage’s office. (If it wasn’t already blacked out by ANBU.)
She invited the T&I shinobi into her apartment, a gentle pull on his sleeve before her hands slid up his arm. “Did you wanna come inside for a drink?”
The influence of alcohol gave her nerves of solid steel, with a sluggishness that was dressed up as seduction. She was quick to pull him into her bed. The sex was...
He’d been by all standards well above average technically speaking. He’d gotten her off more than enough, and yet that stupid little knot stayed put. She found herself wishing he wasn’t so hot, didn’t groan too loudly in her ear and groping her places for too long or too little. He rolled off of her and she felt him kissed to top of her head, an affectionate notion to lull him into a slumber.
Whereas he must’ve passed out from his exertions, she rolled off the bed and escaped into the living room to cool off. Her skin was searing and her nerves still buzzed with the tingling that she couldn’t shake. This never happened with Itachi. Then, again, this was all because of Itachi. She touched herself to the thought of him and when the morning came, she was apologizing to the man in her bed. It was an awkward empty thank you and then she was back to her original problem. Because it wasn’t the sex. It was just him.
She wanted him.
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(Y/n) was laying face up in the middle of her living room. A pen balanced on the bridge of her nose, and a bag of cheddar potato chips just within range of her fingertips. The essays she’d assigned her students to write had been all but unforgiving in their content. Her intention had been to understand why the three of them wanted to become ninja warriors. So far, one had droned on about her lineage, another had simply forgotten to answer the question, and the last one was hell bent on becoming ANBU for the killer cool status. She wanted her students to remember that the reason one should become a ninja is to protect what’s important. That hadn’t been the class...and it was driving her wild mentally speaking. Her students needed a good lecture. Perhaps a real mission would do them good—a quick dose of reality, and practical usage of their jutsu.
Her eyes closed, thinking of the proper steps for applying for a mission. It would mean a trip to the Hokage’s office and a meeting with the—
Before her thought finished, she heard it.
Her heart skipped to the beat.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
For a second, she wanted it to be nothing. He wasn’t there. He was still on his mission. He was gone.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Don’t open it,” she whispered quietly. Trying to convince herself that it was just easy to ignore it. That it would complicate everything. Letting him in would invite trouble. Too much trouble.
The kind of trouble that doesn’t come around for months and months and expects you to wait. The kind that might miss holidays and birthdays and lonely nights that stretch on too long. The kind that can’t promise another day when every mission is a step away from suicide. The kind that won’t choose you over the village. The kind that paints a target on your forehead and kisses you sweetly. The kind that envelops you in a cloak that’s seeped in longing. The kind of trouble she couldn’t afford.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
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Her window is open before he can begin his tune again, and the first thing Itachi sees is her manicured fingertips—painted a deep red. They settled on the windowsill for a moment, and then slip away. He takes it as his invitation, and slips inside her apartment as quickly and quietly as he always does on late nights like these. She’d been sitting in the light of her desk lamp, and now she’s wringing her hands in the usual way she did when nervous. He was not in his ANBU armor, the mask had been left with his armor neatly within his own dwelling of the ANBU barracks. He was simply Itachi right now.
She was the first to speak, her hand going to catch her forehead, “I didn’t know you’d gotten back...”
He notices she avoids looking directly at him, and his hands clench and unclench. “I came back this morning. I went to see my brother.”
“Oh? How is he?”
“He’s recently become qualified for jonin.”
“That’s wonderful.”
The conversation threatens to die out, fizzle into nothing. He opens his mouth, the desire to ask how she’s been dies on his lips. She’s unkempt, her hairs down, loose around her face and her clothes are hardly what you call seductive. Just a t-shirt and some cotton shorts, but she’s so beautiful it hurts him. He can’t speak when she nibbles on the bottom of her lip.
She looks at him suddenly, one of her hand wraps around her wrist, and he can see everything she wants to say. All right behind the barrier, that last film of protection she stays behind. The bit of herself he wishes she would let him see, if even for a moment. He’s liked her since the beginning. From the very first moment they’d ever met, long before they’d ever began this little charade. Long before ANBU and long before this night.
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The first thing he notices when she sits down is the little charm dangling from her necklace—a little cat. She’s quiet and studious and keeps to herself most of the time. When tests are given, she’s right underneath his scores. Not that being number counts for anything when Itachi is a cut above the rest. Though not the most skilled person to fight against, she’s quick and clever in her thinking and it’s that small spark of excitement that sparkles in her eyes he wants to ignite. It’s like she holds back and he wants nothing more than to wonder why. He remembers the only time they talked outside of a training exercise.
She is walking home, clutching her bag and rubbing at her eyes. It is unfortunate that his path has taken him to trail her unconsciously but they are heading in the same direction. She stops suddenly, her feet pause before she turns toward him.
“You’re not following me, are you?” She sounds only a little nervous, but it’s enough to have him stop.
“I’m not,” he states plainly.
With a full rotation on her heels, she readjusts the strap of her bag and sniffles. It’s then that he notices she’s crying, or rather is trying to hide the fact that she’s crying. “Are y-you going home?”
He nods. The air is strange. It’s like she’s forcing herself to haves conversation. She nibbles on her lower lip before speaking again, “I’m (y/n).”
She introduces herself formally and bows. He’s standing there watching this anxious crying girl go out of her way to talk to him.
“I’m Itachi,” he bows a little awkwardly back to her formal greeting. It’s very uncomfortable before she lets out a little sob.
“I-I’m s-sorry, I sh-should g-go,” she quickly turns around and he can see the way her shoulders tremble as she cries and picks up her pace. He follows knowing that it wouldn’t be right to just let her cry all the way home. Besides, he thinks it’s a good moment to do something nice for a classmate. He catches up easily, and she quickly wipes at her eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly.
And the silence that stretches between the two youngsters is deafening.
She stares at the ground under her feet, and shrugs, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Her house is shaky but not incoherent, “My...my grandma...she...she told me that I should take a different route home every d-day; that’s how you make new friends. I...I never did...and now she’s gone...and I-I wanted to...”
“You can cry if you want to, I won’t even look.”
She sniffles and wipes at her teary reddened eyes. She’s upset and sobbing by the time he speaks up, a hand extended out, “If you want me to carry you, I can.”
“Hm?”
“Sometimes my little brother cries, and I carry him. He’s a lot smaller than you but I think if you climb on my back, I’ll be able to. I-if you wanted, of course,” he only barely manages to look away before he feels the heat creep along his cheeks. Itachi stops in his tracks when he feels her soft warm hand on his cold skin. (Y/n)’s touch is featherlight, and in an instant he’s crouching down for her to climb onto his back. She weighs hardly anything and he’s surprisingly strong for a boy his age. Lifting her up like her own big brother would sometimes do.
She clutches onto his shoulders and wraps her arms around him, careful of not choking him. “If you get tired I can walk.”
“No, it’s alright, you’re light. Just...I don’t know where you live.”
She doesn’t see the deep flush of his cheek when she giggles in his ear. Or the way his heart is beating faster than ever before. She tells him the directions until they arrive at her home, a small tap of her shoes as she slides off his back. When he turns around, she is already fidgeting with her hands, nibbling on her lower lip.
And with a small smile, and a quick motion, she hugs him around the waist, pulling away quickly and running up the stairs. He can just barely hear her say, “Thank you.” Before she completely disappears behind her front door.
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It’s not a nice job; he doesn’t carry out sweet mission like finding the neighbors kitty, or helping a local merchant deliver food to a neighboring town. It’s dirty and unforgiving missions that make him miss home. He’s not allowed to miss anything. It all for the good of the village, he understands. It’s too keep his brother safe, his father, and his mother, the future of Konoha is on his shoulders. It weighs him down and forces him to look older than he is actually.
His fox mask hides his emotions. He doesn’t even blink anymore when he kills someone. He works in dark side of the ninja world and there is a fondness for the light he wishes he could grasp tightly. ANBU drilled it into his head that it was impossible—a life outside ANBU was harder than slicing an enemy’s neck. Those cut out for ANBU were not cut out for the light. He was exceptional in his position. He thrived in these harsh conditions. He didn’t belong with all the good people out in the bright world.
But, then he met (y/n).
She’s eighteen when he meets her again, a jonin at that while he’s excelling in his position within ANBU Black Ops. He’s nineteen and has shot up like tree, all lean muscle and a brooding personality.
Their mission is for the quick and quiet infiltration into the Land of Water and dispose of some rogue Leaf shinobi that had take residence in an old outpost on the border. It’s a little dangerous considering the rogue ninja’s particularly nasty kekkei genkai, and he’s been assign to assist. His superior use of sharingan would easily give an edge to the small three man cell.
She’s the first to introduce herself.
“(Y/n)! Team Captain! Er, well, I was before you got assigned...” she mumbled the last couple of words, and to his surprise she received a swift slap to the back of her head from one of the other shinobi on her unit. He was taller than her, large and imposing, a veritable tank.
“Be polite!”
When she rolled her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her gaze into his masked features. “Well, I didn’t know that an ANBU was getting assigned to our group on the first mission I was assigned Captain. It’s a little annoying if you ask me, right ANBU-San? Or do you have a name we can call you?”
Having been granted the leeway to shed his ANBU identity in favor of his real one directly from the Hokage, he piled the mask over the top of his head, letting it rest to the side. He bowed respectfully to the three man cell before him, “Itachi Uchiha. I hope we can work together.”
“U-uchiha?!” She nearly fell over at the shock and the female medic ninja was fanning the poor girl’s face with a small hand fan she’s seemingly procured from out of nowhere.
The mission itself was easily doable by himself if he had any say in it, which he did. Though, the point of this mission had been to work as a unit, and utilize the team’s pooled strength to achieve the desired result in the most efficient way possible with minimal interference in the Land of Water.
She was awkward around him, stumbled over her words, but for the most part, he did not have to carry any extra weight. (Y/n) was a capable ninja—in fact, he was mildly impressed with her skills. Her jonin level had been well earned and she was quite tactical giving her status as the original captain much more backing. Her shyness had bolstered into confidence and her tears had steeled her nerves. She was no longer a little girl but a full fledged kunoichi, but one thing remained. Her little cat necklace, a charm he now recognized as apart of the Nekogami clan.
The mission had gone smoothly and quickly. A swift execution and a prompt report to the Hokage.
It was just a shock when she asked him to sleep with her.
.
The first night had been—and to no one’s surprise—awkward. Too much fiddling, too many unknown logistics, too many fumbling appendages. Clothing was ripped rather than stripped, and god, the talking— she rambled a thousand words a second.
They’d put together a list of boundaries and clear lines to not cross.and it worked for weeks, and then months. He’d be gone for three months on a mission, she began settling into her position as a teacher. Their relationship which was more like a contract of contact was easy considering their job schedules.
As the months stretched into years, it was Itachi who had found himself looking forward to the night visits. Like he couldn’t wait to finish the mission as fast as possible—just to see her face light up. She always smiled when he came to her, no matter the time. She always smiled for him.
He would tap her window. And the butterflies in his stomach would flutter just hearing her shuffle around in her bed to open it up. He’d slip inside and she’d be smiling already. Her touch was warm, skin was soft and she always seemed to kiss him so sweetly. Even when he wasn’t always so gentle, Itachi wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with her in his arms, but they had come up with a rule not to do that. It was a point of release, not a cuddle session. They weren’t making love they were fucking. They were not in love. Not together.
Not together...
So, why did he want to come home to her? Why did he feel like he was leaving something behind every time he kissed her forehead goodbye? She was the first person besides his brother he wanted to see when he returned home, and the last person he wished to part with when he left on one.
.
.
.
It’d been three and a half weeks since he ruined the tenuous relationship with her. She let him inside her apartment and she was not smiling. Her face was washed in anxiety and he had to keep himself at bay. There was no room to step in the wrong direction. He’d already done enough damage. This time he would wait for her move.
And she did, a small step forward, then another and another until she was just close enough to touch. He swallowed and her eyes watched the way his Adam’s apple moved under his pale skin. She couldn’t seem to reach his eyes, but she’d barely held on as it seemed. With a deep breath, she looked up, her eyes took in his sharp features, the wear of the ANBU on his face, but he was still undeniably perfect.
“I am willing to try...” she said slowly, as if the words felt foreign in her tongue. “I am not good at this sort of stuff, but I want to try, Itachi. With you .”
His eyes widened for a sliver of a second, he was not expressive but he was exploding with emotion just below the surface. It was an eternity in a single breath before either of them moved.
.
She moved first. She pulled him into a kiss that rivaled any of their previous kisses. Slow, steady, mouthing a promise of hope despite it all. Her hands slid from his chest to his shoulders under she was wrapped around him like a vice. Itachi’s hands were cold but welcomed as they cradled her face. She pulled away and hid her face on his shoulder, her forehead meeting muscle. She sighed, “I...I think I might be in love with you actually.” His hands were already on her waist, and his voice rumbled from his chest and right into her ear. The sensation doing nothing for that bit of tension grinding inside of her. It was so easy for her to get flustered when it was Itachi.
“And if you didn’t? I’d wait everyday until you did.”
He felt her wrap her arms around his torso a little tighter, “I really think I do.”
“Say it, then,” he was in her ear, hot breath ghosting over ever bit of her sense, dragging them into a drunken lust. He could say anything to her and she’d do it. “Say you love me.”
She froze. A deer in Headlights, she was always spouting out whatever she wanted and he was always listening to her. Tears welled up in her eyes, because every single moment she’d ever spent with Itachi had been washed in a rose color lens. Because she realized that when he kissed her, the world could fall apart around them and she could care less. That she wanted to wake up to the sound of him tapping on her window. That despite her hesitation, she had never really wanted anything like she wanted Itachi.
Itachi went to watch her wrestle with her inner monologue, a serious expression on his face. She met his eyes for the nth time and without a hitch in her words, she said, “ I love you, Itachi. ”
That was all it took for him to lift her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he effortlessly lifted her, leading their bodies to the bedroom, a private escape from the dim living room. Where they’d lain with one another so many times before, but never as this. Never like this. Their clothing was shed one piece after another, a rhythmic cacophony of shirts hitting wood. When she pulled her own shirt over her head, he was quick to kiss her off guard as soon as her lips were visible. She smiled into the attack, a little bit more rushed than the normal pace Itachi took in life. He was not impatient. He was very much the type to wait and watch and think before acting. Like this, though, he seemed to throw his caution to the wind.
His shirt followed hers and then there was nothing but skin between them. His cheek against hers, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist, his hot length sliding against her own arousal. She would gasp in his ear and his grip on the sheets grew tighter. She turned her head to find his lips and they ground against each other’s closeness just to feel the other there.
.
.
.
She nuzzled into the comforter of her bed, the feeling of it’s softness heaven sent on her bare body. Every limb was heavy with fatigue and she didn’t feel like opening her eyes just yet. Her hands grasped around for a squishy pillow to pull into her arms but instead found the warm flesh of another body. And then it clicked.
She fluttered open her eyes, focusing in on the silhouette of her lover’s profile. He was sound asleep, a dark bruise just under his jawline, black hair splayed out around his head. He was angelic in the early morning. It was almost unfair how unguarded he was in this quiet moment.
She moved slowly, inching herself closer to his face, feeling bold with her sluggish mindset. The kunoichi pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead. She hadn’t meant to disturb his sleep, she just simply couldn’t resist the opportunity.
Itachi’s eyes shot open at the contact. He was ANBU after all, nothing got past his hyper senses. He caught her in his own embrace, pulling her over him and down to catch her lips. She pulled him to roll over her, her hands finding the sides of his face, as his bangs tickled the tips of her ears. She let out a small giggle and he sighed in contentment.
When he pulled away, he rest his head on her chest, “Should I go?”
“Only if you want to.”
“I never want to leave.”
“Then, stay,” her hands threaded through his hair. A calming motion that he could’ve fallen in love with her all over again if she kept it up. Her fingernails scratched lightly at his scalp and he could hear the steady beat of her heart just below her skin. The steady rise and fall of her breathing and the slight rumble when she spoke softly to him. He wanted to be nowhere else but here.
“I’ve got a mission in three days. I’ll be gone for a week,” he blurted out suddenly. His fear skyrocketed. It was like he was willing to sabotage himself at any possible moment. It was infuriating.
She simply chuckled lightly, “I’ll make sure the bed warm when you come home then. You’d better come back clean. Just because we’re together now doesn’t mean you can bring a mess into my apartment.”
She retained a light tone all the while, but her voice suddenly grew serious.
“But you’ll be careful. I’d rather you come back to me a mess than not at all.”
He went to lean on his forearm, getting a better view of her, in the morning, a little worry washed over her features. She wasn’t going to outright admit that she was worried but he could tell that despite his prodigal status in the Uchiha, she knew the dangers of their occupation too well. Her hands went to his face, cupping the cheeks there as her eyes searched his.
“I’d like to spend most of the rest of my mornings with you in them, okay? So, don’t die.”
“Same goes for you, you know? I want to come home to you.”
He watched as the frown of worry blossomed into a smile, the pink dusted her cheeks, a bubbling laugh came out from her chest and it was like watching the sun rise. Itachi let her guide him back towards her for another kiss, a deep slow one. Before she whispered against his lips, ”I love you, Itachi Uchiha.”