Work Text:
Sasori of the Red Sand and the eldest sibling of the fifth Kazekage don’t belong in Konoha’s outer forest, far from Suna. Though, of the two, Temari is the least out of place. Her routine trips to the Village Hidden in the Leaves have made her a familiar face, at least. Then again, the kunoichi has no business being in Fire Country today.
But the one wearing her likeness and chakra signature does.
Toga Himiko, missing-nin from the Blood Mist Village and fleeting but memorable member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, is here on official business—official Akatsuki business.
Which is why the sunkissed, beautifully scarred skin she’s wearing is more than a treat; it’s a necessity. She’ll need it if she’s going to get close to the Nine-Tail’s Jinchuuriki.
“You remember the plan,” Sasori grunts.
“Suck, suck, suck Naruto’s blood!” Himiko chirps with a wide grin. Her eyes scrunch, and a brilliant blush paints Temari’s cheeks crimson as Himiko claps happily.
“No,” Sasori growls. “You’re collecting it—just collecting it.” For a moment, he falls silent, his barely contained rage palpable in the air between them. Himiko isn’t bothered, though. Sasori and his puppets aren’t interesting to her; they’re not cute enough to waste time over.
“And no games ,” he adds with a hiss. “If you make me wait again, I’ll kill you, and then we’ll find out if your puppet can still use its kekkei genkai.”
“Aww, jeez,” Himiko giggles. “You’re no fun, Mister Sasori. How come you get to play with puppets, but I can’t play with cuties?”
“Because your idea of fun is making sashimi out of civilians. It draws attention and wastes time .”
“Ugh,” Himiko whines. “This is why I want Itachi to be my partner. He’s fun and cute. You’re just boring.”
“Enough,” Sasori snaps. “I don’t care what you think. Get into the village, get the Jinchuuriki’s blood, and get back here. Stop whining and get to it. I hate waiting.”
Amber light from the setting sun teases short shadows long, and as Himiko approaches the gate, her own stretches into the village before she can.
“We weren’t expecting you this afternoon, Miss Temari,” a shinobi calls out from his post at the gate. His hair is black and spiky, and a thin bandage runs across the bridge of his nose.
“I thought I’d just pop by for a little fun!” Himiko beams. “Dontcha worry about a thing, Mister. I’ll be in and out in no time.”
Before Bandage Shinobi can protest, she skips into the heart of Konoha, twirling a kunai between her fingers. She needs to find Naruto fast, and not just because Sasori will kill her for dawdling.
It’s easier to steal blood from someone in a crowd than to risk waking a sleeping shinobi. With people milling about, Himiko can slip away before Naruto has time to blink, leaving him wondering if the pinprick he felt was a figment of his imagination. She likes those odds better than trying to face him down in his apartment, not that she’d mind terribly. He is awfully cute, after all—or so she’s heard.
It turns out the rumors haven’t been doing Naruto justice, Himiko decides when she finally finds him training in a large field bordered by trees. Even from afar, she can tell he’s absolutely worth cutting into. It’s a good thing she’s here for his blood because, if she wasn’t, she’d have gotten sidetracked trying to get a taste.
She prowls through the treetops, licking her teeth and looking for an opening to pounce. Jumping Naruto while he’s training is far from ideal for the mission, but she’ll make do. Maybe she’ll even get to have a bit of fun with it. If he fights back, she’ll have every right to cut him. Sasori won’t be able to argue that. The thought makes Himiko smug.
On second thought, she muses, this is perfect .
A soft rustling in the bushes below Himiko’s perch alerts her to another’s presence. Through the foliage, she spots a girl close to her age. She’s watching Naruto too.
Burning jealousy bubbles up in Himiko’s chest. She’s only just found Naruto; she won’t lose him to some shrub stalker.
Himiko is on the girl between one blink and the next, slamming her into a tree trunk, her kunai kissing the girl’s pale neck. Wide, milky eyes blink in surprise, and Himiko’s breath catches in her throat.
“T-Temari!” the girl gasps.
“A Hyuuga?” Himiko’s brow scrunches, and she leans in to examine the girl’s eyes. She’s close enough that their noses brush, and the Hyuuga girl’s cheeks flame redder than rubies.
“W-what are you d-doing?” she stutters against Himiko’s kunai. Her voice is soft but chimes like a delicate bell. It’s a sound Himiko could get used to.
“You sure are cute.” Himiko smiles, showing the Hyuuga girl her teeth. A thin ribbon of blood trails down the girl’s neck, and Himiko’s heart skips a beat. “Oh, you’re bleeding.”
Licking her lips, she eyes the girl’s creamy skin, now marked and mouthwatering. Hunger and bloodlust make Himiko’s head swim, overriding her sensibilities. Her mission to gather Jinchuuriki blood feels like a distant dream as she watches the Hyuuga girl’s blood run over her clavicle.
“I love blood,” Himiko breathes, relishing the way the girl shakes in her grasp. She’d give anything to taste her blood—to use her eyes.
With this Hyuuga girl’s Byakugan, Himiko will be able to see Naruto’s delicious chakra as she drains his blood. The thought is too much to bear, and Himiko feels far too light as her bloodlust unravels her.
It makes her reaction sluggish when the Hyuuga girl decides to fight back.
“Byakugan!” the girl cries before driving the heel of her palm into Himiko’s ribs.
Himiko gasps as she’s sent flying into a tree, her kunai falling into the brush. Blood sprays out of her mouth when her spine connects with the tree’s trunk, and she crumples to her knees, her chest heaving.
“You’re not Temari,” the girl pants, crouching with her arms spread wide. It’s a stance Himiko has only seen once or twice. Still, she knows what it means. “Who are you?”
“Who am I ?” Himiko licks the blood from her lips and wipes some from her chin. Her chakra feels faint and fuzzy where the Hyuuga girl hit her, and her disguise feels heavier as though it might slip away. Already, she can feel her fangs poking into Temari’s lower lip.
“You can call me Himiko—since we’re friends now.” With significant effort, Himiko pulls herself to her feet. A fresh set of kunai slide out of her sleeves, and she gives them an idle twirl as she readies herself to face the Hyuuga girl.
“We aren’t friends!” There’s more confidence in the girl’s voice than before. She sounds surer, stronger. “Gentle Fist Art: Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!”
Himiko’s kunai don’t have a chance; the girl is a blur, her palms striking with incredible force.
“Eight Trigrams Two Palms!”
With each hit, Himiko’s disguise slips, her outer skin melting in viscous globs. Tanned, scarred skin slicks away to reveal smooth, pale flesh. Muscles lose their definition, showing Himiko’s slender frame.
“Four Palms!”
Blood floods Himiko’s mouth, and she spits it out, throwing another set of kunai at the Hyuuga girl. They bounce away, useless against her Gentle Palms style.
“Eight Palms!”
Himiko’s head is swimming, but she manages to dodge a few blows, barely. Her unruly hair breaks free of its ties, and blonde strands fan around her. She can tell that her face is mostly her own by now, but that’s no matter. This fight is too fun.
“Sixteen Palms!”
The Hyuuga girl’s brow is furrowed, and her determination rings out with each cry. Even now, as her eyes glint, she’s still so soft and squishy looking. Himiko thinks she might be in love. It’s not every day she finds a cutie that’s capable of spilling her blood.
“Thirty-Two Palms!”
Fighting the Hyuuga girl is fun, but there’s far too much copper coating Himiko’s throat now. It’s time to stop playing around, as much as it pains her to get serious.
With a morose sigh, Himiko swallows her blood down and dances out of range. Getting beat down by a Leaf Chunin is hardly befitting of an Akatsuki member. Sasori is going to chew her out for sure now. How boring.
With ease, Himiko catches the Hyuuga girl’s wrist, pivots behind her, grabbing her by the back of the neck, and slams her to the ground. The girl yelps as Himiko pins her to the forest floor, her iron grip on her neck unwavering.
“You’re wonderful, ya know,” Himiko purrs, leaning closer to sniff the girl’s chakra. “You smell just like me. You’ve got a crush, right? On Naruto? That’s why you were stalking him.”
“W-what?”
“I bet you wanna be just like him. I can tell because you’re like me,” Himiko continues, her skin hot from the flush that’s crept across her blood and dirt-stained features. “Wanting to be close isn’t enough. You want to be him. It’s only natural.”
“N-no, I—”
“I totally understand. I love it when people are all beat up, smelling like blood. I bet Naruto gets beat up a lot, huh? I bet he smells amazing!”
Beneath Himiko, the Hyuuga girl struggles, but her efforts aren’t enough. Himiko has her right where she wants her, and all this talk about crushes is making her blood itch and her mouth water. A fresh kunai slides into her hand, and Himiko levels it with the girl’s neck.
“Want me to tell him how in love you are when I cut him up?” Himiko giggles. “Normally, I’d get really jealous, but, since you’re both so cute, I can make an exception.” A frustrated sob escapes the Hyuuga girl, and Himiko sighs dreamily.
“Before I cut you, tell me your name,” she demands, prodding the girl with the edge of her kunai.
“I am Hyuuga Hinata, and I won’t let you hurt Naruto!”
Himiko can feel Hinata’s chakra pooling, and she blinks, unsure of what it means. She doesn’t get to consider it long, though.
“Rasengan!”
Growling, Naruto bursts through the trees, a thin layer of red chakra bubbling around his skin, his eyes as red as freshly spilled blood.
The swirling ball of chakra in his palm hits Himiko square in the back, and she’s sent flying off Hinata and into a nearby boulder. There’s a loud crack, and heat flares under Himiko’s skin.
Playtime is over.
Choking on blood, Himiko pulls herself up to her knees and brings her shaking arms up to form signs. No mission is worth dying for. It’s time to slink off and lick her wounds. Sasori be damned.
“Water Style: Hidden Mist Jutsu,” she wheezes.
Thick fog swallows her, and she crawls away under its welcome cover. If only Naruto had been wandering about in town, she thinks sadly. Though she has to admit, that wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.
“What took you so damn long?” Sasori growls. His puppet jaw snaps loudly as he scrutinizes Himiko’s battered form.
“I ran into a Hyuuga,” Himiko says as if that’s all the explanation required. “I almost got to cut her up, but Naruto got in the way.” An exaggerated pout twists her features.
“Tell me you got his blood. Tell me you didn’t waste all your time fighting the Hyuuga.”
“Well, you see.” Himiko taps her bruised lip. “I was really close to getting his blood, but—”
“But?!” Sasori’s rage shakes his joints, emitting a strange symphony of wooden clacking. “You’re saying you didn’t get it?”
“I tried.” Himiko shrugs. “Better luck next time, right?”
Sasori does not agree. In fact, Himiko is sure that the only reason he doesn’t kill her on the spot is because Pain has made it clear that she is one asset they can’t afford to lose.
Art by Marumenkai. Do NOT copy/edit/repost/etc.