Chapter Text
No, he didn’t underestimate his enemy.
Although circumstances might suggest differently.
Her knees and feet pushing the air out of his lungs, the fight out of his legs. His arm twisted in her tight grasp, and the other shoulder dislocated.
His own sword pointed, tip steady and sharp, at his very vulnerable throat.
No, he knows too well to underestimate a woman warrior. Any woman who can succeed on the battlefield has twice the skills of any common man, and he’s learned that the hard way many years before today.
So…
Fierce animosity sparks behind the lightest eyes he’s ever seen. Pearly. Far too pretty on a gently shaped, feminine face…
No, he didn’t underestimate her!
He manages a grin, not a grimace. “Before you finish the job, would you do me the honor of your name?”
Gentle brows furrow ever closer, and for a second, that cold animosity is replaced by surprised confusion.
For one second.
And she’s twisting his arm even harder than before. “Who’s your master? Answer me.”
There’s no way he’ll betray Tsunade, even when he’s more than just a little sore about her not mentioning there would be a gorgeous, young--
The sting of her sword pricks into his throat, and his eyes dart back up from the cleavage peeking through the loosening folds of her bedclothes. It seems like even the very threat of decapitation doesn’t stop the ingrained habits of his teachers…
No, he didn’t underestimate her, right?
“Does it matter? I’m dead as of now, anyway. Either you’re slicing my head off--” He makes a schliiick sound for added drama, “--and my blood gets to spurt all over you, or I stab myself in the guts, rearrange my innards, and spill my stomach on your tatami.” He visibly muses his options, somehow finding humor in his last minutes alive, and he takes it as a personal win when her nose scrunches up in distaste.
“You can’t do that, this is my bedroom,” she argues, as if he was unaware.
“Then I guess we’ll have to take this outside.”
She frowns deeper. “Not in my garden!”
“Then where?” And he can’t help a more genuine smile sneaking up on his lips even as new ideas to complete his mission float about his mind.
It’s all halfhearted plans, though. He was doomed from the start. Before any of them could have known.
He can’t kill someone like her.
It was that one second of hesitation that sealed his fate. He could’ve murdered her. It would’ve been too easy. Too simple.
And therefore too wrong.
It’s not farfetched to think he was never cut out for this lifestyle. He never really handled these kinds of missions well, and killing in cold blood was always difficult. To separate his mind from his body. To cut off his heart from his actions. He could always manage.
On old men. (Who were fathers).
On young men. (Who were sons and brothers).
He’s known for some time now that the Hyuuga head was the infamous and powerful Hiashi. A man with strong life force despite his age, supposedly the strongest in the family. Intel told him he’d find a cruel man in the Main House.
“When I say so, you’re going to get up and walk with me. One wrong move and I’ll--schliiick--slice your legs off.” She sounds way too collected for such a serious joke, and it’s...
Just not funny anymore.
Reality is starting to settle in. The moon lighting up her delicate features instead casts the shadow of death across the room.
At least it seems she’ll grant him an honorable death.
In less than two seconds, she’s got him rolled over, hands locked in one of her arms, and she’s urging him to stand. “Get up.”
He staggers to his feet, and he doesn’t fail to notice that she makes good on her promises. His sword is now angled at his legs, ready to hack him off at the knees.
Internally, he’s readying himself for his death, trying to find some kind of empty, zen-like peace.
Outwardly, he’s majorly aware of the softness of her nightwear at his forearms, her chest pressing into his back.
What a way to go. His one and only opportunity in life to feel a woman, and it’s on his death march.
“Walk,” she murmurs, and he’s suddenly way too aware of the fact that her voice is...soft.
Obediently, as he has no other real options anyway, he steps forward.
Blunt pain lances into his neck, the world shifts in a split-second realization, and all fades to nothing.