The morning sun glared blindingly off the endless sheets of ice, offering light but absolutely zero warmth. The blizzard had finally died down, leaving the air dead and still.
Outside the ice cave, the snow was packed hard. Kakashi stood with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, his breath pluming in the freezing air.
"Alright, Team 7," Kakashi ordered, his visible eye scanning his shivering students. "The cold slows down your chakra network. We need to get your blood pumping before we resume the escort. Light sparring. Naruto, you're with Sasuke. Sakura, you're with Kenji. Taijutsu only. No lethal strikes."
Across the clearing, Naruto and Sasuke immediately clashed, the sound of their fists hitting forearms echoing over the frozen wasteland.
Sakura stood ten feet away from Kenji, shivering in her thick pink winter coat. She glared at him. Her mind immediately flashed back to last night—the humiliating memory of being trapped under that heavy blanket, completely surrendering to his suffocating body heat, her face buried in his neck.
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to punch that arrogant, bored smirk right off his face.
"Don't hold back, Kenji," Sakura snapped, dropping into a sloppy combat stance. "I'm going to make you pay for being a creep."
Kenji just stood there, his hands resting lazily in his pockets. He didn't even bother to take a stance. "Come and get it, flat-chest."
Sakura surged forward, channeling chakra into her boots to kick up a spray of snow. She threw a wide, angry right hook aimed directly at his jaw.
It was pitifully slow.
Kenji didn't even take his hands out of his pockets. He just tilted his head an inch to the left. Sakura's fist whistled past his ear, hitting empty air. She stumbled forward, overextending completely due to her anger.
Kenji sidestepped. He brought his right leg around, hooking his calf behind her ankle, and swept her legs out from under her in one fluid, brutal motion.
"Gah!"
Sakura hit the packed snow hard on her back. The impact knocked the wind out of her lungs.
Before she could even gasp for air, Kenji dropped his entire body weight directly onto her.
He didn't just pin her wrists. He drove his right knee hard between her thighs, forcefully prying her legs apart. He wedged his knee right up against her pubic bone, pressing the hard joint directly into the seam of her thick winter pants.
Sakura's eyes went wide. The sudden, heavy friction against her clit sent a jarring, unwanted jolt of electricity straight to her core.
To secure her upper body, Kenji slammed both of his large, warm hands squarely onto her chest. He didn't grab her shoulders or her collar. His fingers dug deeply into the soft mounds of her developing breasts, grabbing literal handfuls of flesh right through the thick layers of her winter coat.
"W-What are you doing?!" Sakura shrieked, her face instantly turning a nuclear shade of red. She tried to buck her hips to throw him off, but the movement only caused her crotch to grind harder against his thick, unyielding knee.
"Establishing a dominant mount," Kenji stated calmly, his voice a low, mocking rumble right above her face. "Your guard is wide open, Sakura. You fight like an angry civilian, not a ninja."
He deliberately squeezed his hands, heavily massaging her breasts under the guise of a combat hold. The intense, radiating heat of his large palms seeped right through her winter gear, sinking into her cold skin. Her nipples hardened instantly against the fabric, aching under his aggressive, unapologetic grip.
"Get off me!" Sakura screamed, her breath hitching. She hated him. She hated his arrogance. But her body was completely betraying her. The heavy weight of his knee spreading her legs, combined with his hands mercilessly kneading her chest, made her lower stomach clench with a thick, heavy heat.
"In a real fight, you'd be dead," Kenji whispered, leaning in so close she could feel his hot breath on her freezing cheek. He shifted his weight, digging his knee just a fraction of an inch deeper into her crotch. "Or captured. And you know what enemy shinobi do to captured kunoichi, don't you?"
Sakura let out a strangled, pathetic whimper. The friction between her thighs was generating a slick, shameful dampness in her underwear. She was getting wet right in the middle of a sparring match.
"PERVERT!"
Fueled by pure humiliation, Sakura flared her chakra wildly. She shoved her hands against his chest and bucked her hips with everything she had, throwing him off her.
Kenji let her go, rolling smoothly to his feet and dusting the snow off his pants.
Sakura scrambled up, panting heavily. Her face was flushed, her chest heaving, and her legs felt distinctly weak. She didn't look back at Kakashi. She didn't look at Sasuke. She just turned around and stormed off toward the camp, tears of pure, blinding frustration stinging the corners of her eyes.
"Hey! We aren't done sparring!" Kakashi called out lazily, not looking up from his book.
Kenji smirked, watching her walk away. "She needs to cool off, Sensei. I think I hit a sensitive chakra point."
[That Night - The Encampment]
The film crew had set up a perimeter of heavy canvas tents near the glacier. Inside her small, freezing tent, Sakura lay in her sleeping bag.
It was pitch black. The wind howled outside.
She was shivering, but not entirely from the cold. Her body was completely hyper-aware. Every nerve ending felt raw and exposed.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to sleep, but her mind kept drifting to Sasuke. Sasuke-kun... she thought miserably. He was right there today. He didn't even look at me. He didn't care that Kenji had me pinned to the snow. He treats me like I don't even exist.
The neglect physically hurt. She was twelve, bursting with confusing hormones, and the boy she devoted her entire life to looked at her like she was a piece of trash.
Then, her mind shifted to the morning spar.
She remembered the crushing, suffocating weight of Kenji dropping onto her. She remembered the intense heat of his hands grabbing her breasts, treating her body like it belonged to him. She remembered the hard pressure of his knee wedged between her thighs, spreading her open against her will.
Sakura's breath hitched in the dark tent.
Her hands, trembling slightly, slipped out from under the heavy blankets. She unzipped the top of her winter coat.
She hated Kenji. He was a vulgar, arrogant creep. But he was the only one who actually touched her. He was the only one who looked at her body like it meant something.
Her shivering fingers moved up to her own chest. Slowly, hesitantly, she cupped her own breasts through her thermal shirt. She squeezed the soft flesh, trying to mimic the heavy, calloused grip Kenji had used that morning.
"Ah..." Sakura let out a soft, broken gasp.
It felt good. The sensitivity was almost overwhelming. Her nipples were tightly pebbled, aching for friction. She rubbed her thumbs over the hard nubs, her hips instinctively shifting under the blankets.
But her own hands weren't enough. They lacked the dominant, unapologetic heat of the boy she claimed to hate.
Sakura let one hand trail down her stomach, slipping past the waistband of her thermal pants. She reached between her legs.
Her fingers brushed against her own folds. She was completely, shamefully soaked. The thick, slick wetness coated her fingertips instantly.
She pressed two fingers against her swollen clit, rubbing herself in the freezing dark.
"Sasuke-kun..." she whispered, trying desperately to picture the Uchiha's face.
But the image wouldn't stick. Every time she rubbed her clit, the memory of Kenji's heavy knee grinding into her crotch flashed behind her eyelids. She remembered his dark, mocking eyes looking down at her, telling her she was wide open.
Her pace quickened. She pumped her fingers against her slick folds, her breathing turning into ragged, desperate pants.
She was touch-starved. She was so incredibly lonely. She just wanted to be held, to be wanted, and the only person supplying that raw, masculine energy was Kenji Sato.
"Ngh... Kenji... you bastard..." she whimpered, her body betraying her entirely.
Her hips bucked off the thin mattress pad. She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her own scream as a sharp, intense orgasm ripped through her body. Her inner walls spasmed, her thighs shaking as she milked her fingers dry in the dark.
When the aftershocks finally faded, Sakura lay there in the freezing tent, her hand covered in her own slick juices.
Hot, shameful tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking into her pillow. She cried silently, her chest heaving with pure frustration. She was getting wet over a pervert because the boy she loved wouldn't even look at her.
The psychological rot had firmly taken root. Her body was officially craving the corruption.
Outside in the freezing wind, Kenji leaned against a glacier, spinning a kunai around his finger.
[System Notification: Psychological Shift Detected.]
[Target: Sakura Haruno. Touch dependency successfully established. The Cherry Blossom is craving the rot.]
[Reward: +500 SP.]
Kenji smirked, reading the blue holographic text floating in the dark.
"The Uchiha ignores the garden, so someone has to harvest the cherry blossoms" Kenji whispered, pocketing the kunai.
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