I'd braced myself for the explosion, but it didn't come.
Which, in fairness, was a good outcome. Kushina going nuclear here, forgetting her sleeping son and the watchers outside, would be catastrophic for both my short-term plans and my long-term prospects of living in this village.
In retrospect, I'd fucked up a bit there. I was relying too much on her apprehension to keep things quiet, growing complacent just because I felt uncomfortable with our conversation.
Mostly because, for fuck's sake, I didn't want to talk about gratitude and debts. I didn't need thanks. I didn't deserve them. Doing my job wasn't heroic, it was just… doing my job, my responsibility. How damn hard was that to grasp?
Still, her reaction was way more subdued than expected. Hell, it was the opposite of what I'd anticipated. So much so that I started doubting my assumptions about her character.
The older woman gave another one of those irresistible eye rolls. "Kami, you really are hopeless," she said in exasperation, smacking my arm harder than before. "Here I am trying to have a serious conversation, and you're still thinking about perverted stuff."
This woman really had forgotten her script, huh?
It intrigued me and, despite my own annoyance, I could see an opening there. I'd have to improvise. Not that what I'd planned was completely mapped out and ironclad, but I'd come in with a working framework in mind. One that was out the window now.
I kept my serious expression and leaned forward slightly. "I am serious, Kushina," I said, letting genuine earnestness creep into my voice. No need for honorifics; I allowed that liberty with her since it was just us here. "I wouldn't have survived without that keepsake I kept—your scent on it. It gave me something to fight for when everything else seemed hopeless….." A pause, then added in a disappointed mutter, "Sadly, they were destroyed in the battle."
The exasperation on her face turned to confusion. Her smirk faded as she processed that I was genuinely serious. And yes, I was serious, those panties were intended to be used as heirlooms. Her body language stiffened slightly, not with rage, but with uncertainty. Her crossed arms loosened, hands fidgeting with the fabric of her dress.
"Wait—you're…" she blinked rapidly, staring at me like she couldn't tell if I was making an indecent joke or proposing to her. "You're serious?! You actually—" she dragged out the words like each one was dragged across her throat— "You actually carried them around? In a fight?" Her eyes burned into mine in disbelief. "Don't tell me you really kept them…"
Her hands twitched at her sides like she wanted to throttle me, but instead she smoothed her apron down flat. It was an old, wifely gesture, unconscious, defensive.
I nodded solemnly. "Wrapped them around my wrist the whole time."
Again, her reaction was completely outside my expectations. She wasn't furious. Last time I'd gotten punched for far less. But was she... blushing? She sat back slightly, creating distance as if only now realizing our proximity. What really broke my understanding of this woman was how she looked away and started fidgeting with her hands, smoothing her hair nervously.
For someone who could crush skulls with a flick, she suddenly couldn't even manage her own hands. They wouldn't stay still, wringing at the hem of her dress, then clenching, then rising halfway as if to cover her mouth before falling again.
She was acting like a fucking schoolgirl half her age.
This wasn't the Kushina I—
"That's disgusting," she hissed.
I was so caught up in my disbelief at her cute reaction that I almost missed the swift movement. Her hand cutting down for my head. Reflex took over, and I caught her wrist mid-swipe.
And I blinked. Because yes. This, this I could understand. This was the Kushina I knew. Fury sharp enough to shave skin.
"You sick little pervert," she whispered dangerously, though there was an edge of desperation to it now, like she was trying too hard to sound angry. "You think telling me that makes it romantic?" She gritted her teeth. "You think my threats are empty?"
I yanked her closer, silencing that warning before she could find her rhythm. Our faces grew close enough for my breath to stir her hair.
I met her hisses with a steady voice. "I wasn't lying earlier. I wouldn't have lived without your scent to anchor me. And now that I've lost it... if something like that ever happens again — and from the look of things, they will — I won't have anything to give me strength to fight impossible odds."
I had prepared to use Devil's Whisper then. The perfect moment, wasn't it? The perfect crack for Devil's Whisper to slide in. All I had to do was breathe the syllables, lace the hunger already within her, and she'd bend.
But… fuck me, cliche if I didn't get lost in her eyes instead.
She was close enough now that I could see the gold flecks in those violet eyes. I could study every curve of her face. The flick of her lashes, the stubborn tilt of her chin, nearly brushing mine. The faint glow of her skin flushed pink in the warm light that kissed her cheekbones.
I caught the faintest clink of her wedding ring as it struck lightly against my palm. The steel reminder wedged between our skin made the situation ten thousand times more obscene.
Her lips were parted slightly, breath coming in short puffs that I could feel against my skin. That cascade of red hair framed her face like fire, and I could smell her.
Kushina's pink tongue darted out, wetting her lips before retreating. I had a savage urge to lean forward and taste where it had passed. She tried to yank her hand free, but there was barely any strength behind it. Her perfect brows trembled as she whispered, "Your smooth talking won't work."
Our breathing had synchronized somehow, shallow and quick. Her free hand had landed on my chest, whether to push me away or steady herself, I couldn't tell.
"Please," I answered simply, because my brain had apparently stopped braining.
The middle-aged woman's cheeks flared an instant crimson. She looked away sharply with a harsh exhale through her nose, muttering under her breath, "That's— that's just... stupid. Absolutely stupid." She huffed hard, shaking her head as though scolding herself. "Idiot... you're absolutely impossible,"
Then pushed against my chest with that cold hand, standing and freeing her wrist. "Wait here."
My eyes followed her retreating back until she vanished around the corner.
What the hell was—?
I blinked and glanced down at the table. Tea waited quietly, unsipped. It would be a damn pity to waste, knowing who made it. I reached forward, picked up the cup, and drank. The warmth slid down my throat, hot, clear. Tea was supposed to be the drink of the wise, right? Clarity, calm, patience. Maybe it'd give me wisdom to understand this family. This woman, her son too.
Because, for fuck's sake, mother and son never acted the way you wanted or expected. Always unpredictable.
I took another sip, waiting. Waiting for what, I hoped but couldn't really tell. My heart was beating in my ears. I looked down at the obvious tent in my pants. My dick didn't have any answers either, so I shifted and pushed my erection back against my leg. This thing only ever complicated matters, and things were complicated enough already.
The sound of Kushina's shuffling slippers returned. She strode in with fiery determination, jaw set, shoulders squared like she was marching to war. Her hair seemed to have a life of its own, practically crackling with suppressed energy.
"Here," she said, throwing something at me. "Not a word of this to anyone, or I'll make sure you can't speak at all." Her voice carried that scary mom authority, half-snarl, half-fluster, a deep flush covering her embarrassment. She glanced once toward the hallway again, as if her son's ghost could appear at any moment.
I caught it and looked down. Panties. White, boring white panties. Her panties. I stared at them in disbelief, then looked at her wordlessly.
The redhead scoffed, turned her head away with an angry flush that nearly matched her hair, and said, "Take them and stop looking at me like that before I knock your teeth in."
I hadn't even used my cheat code, and she was willing... I swallowed hard and, with absolutely no conscious thought, brought the panties to my nose and inhaled deeply.
Kushina jolted like she had been electrocuted. "You—!" she stammered, eyes wide, shifting in outrage. "Did you HAVE to do that in front of me?! Kami, you're—ugh—disgusting! Impossible!!"
I frowned and shook my head, pulling the panties away from my face. "I can't accept these," I said.
The blush on her face deepened into pure humiliation. Her hands balled into fists, knuckles white, tendons in her arms twitching with suppressed rage. She turned to face me fully and hissed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?! You force me into giving you something so, so — and now — ugh! How much more do you plan to make fun of me?!"
I wasn't deterred by her anger. I carefully and gently placed the panties on the table. They might not meet my standards, but they'd been worn by this perfect woman at some point, and that alone meant they deserved care.
I sighed and looked her directly in the eyes.
"They don't smell like you," I said quietly. "They smell like soap. I wanted yours."
Then let my gaze dip meaningfully to her lower belly.
She shifted her stance awkwardly, her knees clicked together, and crossed her arms with the grace of battlefield discipline, voice turning ice-cold. "Do you want me to kill you now, or wait until you're asleep with them shoved down your throat?"
I smiled. "That's not having the effect you want it to have."
She clicked her tongue and tried again, more calmly this time. "I ought to smash your skull into the tatami until there's nothing left of you."
I held her gaze and nodded. "Yes. You ought to."
We stared at each other for a long moment. That fire in her eyes was so intense I couldn't look away even if I'd wanted to.
Yet I still had some working brain cells left, and I remembered the goal I'd set for this visit. Even if I didn't know where this conversation was leading, I prepared Devil's Whisper and fragments of sentences to use on her. Naruto might be a heavy sleeper, but he wasn't dead. I needed to wrap this up before temptation wrapped me up instead.
"Fine," she said with barely controlled fury.
I blinked. What?
"What?"
Without another word, Kushina, while glaring with defiant shame, grabbed the sides of her long green apron-dress and yanked it up.
The fabric pulled high enough to reveal strong, pale thighs. Indecent but not yet obscene. Far enough to allow her hands access, but not exposing anything above mid-thigh. The motion was angry and sharp, not sensual, like she was ripping off a bandage.
My brain short-circuited. My eyes went round as saucers, my throat was a desert. Once again, I was fucking losing it with this woman.
And I realized I was in way deeper than I'd ever planned to be.
— — — — — — — — — —
A/N: I'm really, really not happy with this one, might rewrite it later (emphasis on might).
You can read up to 8 chapters ahead at patreon.com/vizem