Naruto: The Prince of Lust

Chapter 40: Chapter 40

Slowly, Kurenai takes in the sight of a tan boy with blond spiky hair and deep baby-blue eyes. 'You' her irately mind narrows in on. He missed sessions when he had no right to. He's at her front door when he has no right to.

He smiles at her when he has no right to. With angered fueled recognition, she allows herself a moment of selfishness; a moment of release of the poisonous anger her character and virtues always keeps in check.

Looking at Naruto, remembering Hinata-chan dismay for canceling the last two sessions, thinking of her father, it was easytoo easyto let go of the anxious rage bubbling within her.

"Yo!" Naruto calls with half a smile, and Kurenai felt body move, as if detached from her will, with a single-minded purpose to attack and destroy the source of her scorn. With the speed of a first-rate Jnin, Kurenai punched the unsuspecting boy, hard, in the nose.

She felt the satisfying crunch of a broken nose as she sent him back several feet. It was the only sound in the cold night of her neighborhood. Landing hard, his hands are already covering his bleeding nose as he rolls to a stop.

She walks calmly toward him, devoid of sympathy, regret, or hesitation, as he awkwardly yells, "whaa da phluck!" As he gets up, Kurenai kicks him with all her considerable strength in the stomach, knocking all the oxygen out of his lungs as he flies through her picket fence onto the hard deserted street.

He rolls to a stop and his desperate hands feebly fixates on painful wounds no amount of rubbing would ease.

Still walking towards him, patient as the setting sun, she watches him gasping for air through his bloodied mouth clutching at his stomach with both arms until he finally notices her approachher face, in particular. Naruto forces his feet under him and decides to run rather than fight.

Like a bolt from an arrow, he dashes away as fast as he can until he feels an immensely sharp pain rapidly spreading from the back his thigh throughout his body, making him trip than tumble through the dirt floor.

Adrenaline gathers his baring and when he awkwardly looks to the back of his left thigh, he sees a kunai sticking out. Turning to the fierce Jnin, still calmly walking toward him, still making that face, he grits his teeth, grabs the kunai's handle and yanks it out before fleeing.

Thankfully she doesn't pursue him, and Naruto doesn't stop running until he reaches his apartment. Unsure of what to make of what happened, he throws himself into bed and burrows himself in his sheets.

Kurenai returns to her home, to the sake bottle on the kitchen counter, and drinks the night and her worries away.

INO

It's Sunday, and Ino is cheerfully making her way through the market with a bag of syrup-coated anko dumplings. Her elation is so effortless, she barely feels the need to dawn her mask that reveals nothing to the world of her worries or struggles.

It amazes her how easy it is to hide her strong cravings for an inferior boy she doesn't like when she has relative control over the rival for the boy she does love.

But Ino's wise enough to understand she really only has the illusion of control over Sakura, and not unquestioned control.

Ino knows Sakura would much prefer those photos never saw the light of day, but if Ino backed Sakura too hard into a corner, the pinkette could do something radical that might bring everything into the light. They were ninja, after all. Secrets came with the territory, but also how to manage them.

Ino needed to be tough but fair. Establish the rules, follow through, and punish if Sakura challenges the order of things.

Sakura's family live in the civilian sector just past the markets. It's a nice two-story home for a successful tradesman and elected official, and unlike her clan home, Sakura's home has modern architecture. A design Ino remembers loving when she visited as a little girl.

Knocking on the door of the Haruno residence, Ino meets Sakura's blond-haired mother.

"Morning, Mebuki-san," Ino cheerfully announces with a smile.

"Ino-chan?" Mebuki calls in question. "Oh my, what a lovely surprise. I haven't seen you in so long. My, look how beautiful you've grown!" Mrs.

Haruno exclaims examining the beautiful flower in front of her from top to bottom.

Ino shyly poses, thrilled by the older woman's rave adoration. "Thank you, Mebuki-san. It's great to see you again. It really has been too long."

"Much, but, you're here now," Mebuki asserts. "I take it you've come by to see how Sakura is doing? Her sensei has come by and one of her teammates, but she wasn't up to seeing anyone."

"Which teammate?" Ino cautiously asks, hoping to Kami Sasuke-kun didn't care.

"The blond one," Mebuki replies with a crinkle of her nose, as if smelling a foul odor, allowing Ino to release a relieved breath she didn't know she was holding in.

"Well, I know I haven't been by in a while but I think maybe a female friend will do the trick," Ino alleges with a bright smile. Mebuki returns the smile and allows Ino in before going upstairs.

As Ino had anticipated, Sakura was 'well enough' to see her, and a few minutes later, Mebuki leaves a tray of tea and biscuits on Sakura's desk. "I can handle that Mebuki-san," Ino tells the older blond, taking the kettle and pouring two cups.

"If you need anything else, I'll be in the kitchen," the mother tells them as she leaves.

The silence in the room is staggering, but it doesn't bother Ino in the slightest. She takes the cups and extends one to Sakura. This is a basic test Ino uses to gauge where to begin, and Sakura is smart enough to know taking the cup isn't just polite but to some extent, submissive.

While not a rule anyone should simply assume, it is a decent indication where they both stand.

One of them will be the submissive, the unresistant, the tame, and the other will be the dominant, the assertive, the lead, because if they're both assertive about their positions, the probability of things spiraling out of control is high.

With the pictures in Ino's possession, Sakura's predicament can easily turn into something worse; something the green-eyed beauty would never be able to live down...

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