Summary: Sasuke looks as if he has been turned to stone, his hands clenching around the kit in his hands. If she didn't think he could turn any redder, she was mistaken. For several seconds his eyes zero in on everything below her neck. Sakura feels the warmth in her cheeks travel downward at this, and trying for confidence, she purrs, "Like what you see?" [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 12 – Prompt: "The Virgin Sees"]

Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )

Rating: T

Warning: Mild OOC? They're characters that grew up differently than the canon, so a little bit of change in personality.

Canon-Compliance: None. Alternate Reality / Walk A Mile 'Verse

Beta Reader: Sakura's Unicorn

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It starts out as a run-of-the-mill information retrieval mission.

Simple, straightforward—they don't even need the whole team. It's just as well; Kakashi has been helping Naruto improve his change-of-nature techniques, and Sakura's been hoping for some quality alone-time with Sasuke. Between everyone's training regimen, it's hard to find the time to just be two fifteen-year-olds in Not-Quite-Love-But-Slowly-Getting-Past-Like.

So, when Lady Tsunade proposes the mission to retrieve some stolen documents from a group of mercenary ninja and deliver it to the intended recipients, Sakura jumps on it. It's easy, requiring stealth and intelligence which both she and Sasuke excel at.

Everything goes perfectly, until it turns out that one of the enemy is a sensor type.

Sakura and Sasuke's carefully planned infiltration and extraction gets turned into an all-out brawl. They get the documents, but they've been made and are now being hunted through the forest.

On top of that, a shuriken has just become deeply embedded in the fleshy part beneath Sakura's left shoulder blade. Sasuke hangs back, ready to grab her, but she steadies herself mid-stumble.

"I'm fine," she insists, despite the cold pain and the feel of blood soaking through her shirt.

Sasuke considers her, and she knows from his expression that he's weighing their options. If the wound is deep, blood-loss will make a long-distance sprint impossible, but in their current situation, they're at a disadvantage.

"We need a distraction," he says. "You or me?"

The fact that he isn't even acknowledging her wound shows how far they've come over the years. He knows she can take care of herself.

She smirks. "Well, you're pretty, but I don't think you're their type."

The corner of his mouth tugs upward at this and he nods, turning to leave. "Five minutes," he tells her. "Three if you don't have a choice."

And then he is gone. Seconds later, the enemy catches up and she is surrounded on all sides by a half-dozen missing-nin dressed in black.

"Seriously?" she asks as the closest ones lunge at her. "Why do people like you always dress in black?" She bends into her taijutsu forms, dodging blows and volleys of shuriken. "Wouldn't it be smarter for mercenaries to dress in camouflage?"

One of them tries to slip past her and she tosses an exploding tag in front of him, forcing him to jump backward to avoid the blast. Her shoulder burns and her side is now slick with blood, but she knows her limits. If she can just make it to five minutes...

It's four minutes before she begins to feel lightheaded and is forced to make a quick getaway. As she flits through the trees, she hears the raucous laughs and victory shouts; they think they have her on the run: a wounded wolf being chased back to her den.

Up ahead, she sees Sasuke waiting on the other side of a clearing. His fingers flash in what anyone else would interpret as hand signs from a distance, but she knows they are a series of numbers. Grid coordinates, just as they've practiced.

Still running full-speed ahead, she assesses the open space, makes a quick calculation in her head, and dives into the air. It's difficult to twist her body to avoid the razor-thin wires, especially given her wound, but she manages. Her pursuers won't notice the gleaming strands until it's too late.

And she's through.

She botches the landing, however, stumbling and rolling once she hits the ground. Still, she doesn't stop, stagger-crawling onward and glancing over her shoulder to make sure she's in the clear.

The mercenary-nin enter the clearing as well, see her on the ground, and assume she's succumbed to her injury. There's more yelling, more promises of a slow and painful death, and several of them dive into the air toward her.

The minute they're airborne, Sasuke's fist fills with electricity and he hurls it forward. The wires come alive with a current, lightning jolting through the giant spider's web below the mercenaries. It's far too late for them to react, and electricity surges through their bodies. Within moments, heaps of unconscious ninja lie among the grass and tree roots.

In a final move, Sakura pulls back her uninjured arm and shoves a precise burst of chakra into the ground. The clearing splinters, collapsing beneath the unconscious men, burying them in the eroding rubble.

It'll be a while before any of them are able to follow her or Sasuke.

"Nice teamwork," she beams at him, going down on one knee.

Sasuke scowls. "They were already unconscious," he points out. "You wasted your strength, and now I have to carry you."

She sticks out her tongue. "Well, that'll be a break from usual, then. Because usually, I'm the one carrying you."

He mutters something unintelligible and probably insulting under his breath then scoops her up in a fireman hold—he can't risk jostling or removing the shuriken just yet—and they're off. Sakura shamelessly uses the opportunity to admire his backside as he runs. They stop only when Sasuke is sure that they've reached safety.

There's a small, shaded glade near a river with enough leaf coverage to keep them out of sight of anyone who might come looking. He puts her down carefully and examines the wound.

"It's deep, but it hasn't hit anything vital," he informs her.

"I could've told you that." She tries to move her arm around to examine it herself with her fingertips, but can't quite reach.

"Stop that," he orders. "You'll tear it further. I shouldn't have to tell you that."

"Right. Because you make such great decisions when it comes to your health."

"I'm not a trained medical-nin."

"So, that's an excuse to get yourself half-killed?"

His only response is a glower.

"How about, instead of shooting me dirty looks, you stitch me up?" she suggests. It's not an unreasonable expectation; he's done it before. "Do you still have that healing balm Naruto asked Hinata to give you?"

"Yes, it's in my pack."

"We'll need that when you're done. For now, though, go get some water."

"Hm." He turns to head for the spring. "Wait here."

Hah! Like she's planning on leaving!

Sakura reaches into her own pack, digging for her suture kit. She lays it out and, with minimal maneuvering, pulls off her shirt and sports bra. She swears as some of the threads get stuck on the shuriken, then tugs them out and quickly applies a cloth compresses. The sooner Sasuke stitches this up, the better.

There's a muffled thump behind her and she whips around, clenching a fist in expectation of an enemy behind her. Instead, she finds Sasuke, jaw dropped and cheeks flushed with colour, the canteen lying at his feet.

"Sasuke?" she questions, unsure at first what has him so startled. It takes a few extra seconds before she realises it's her bare breasts that are throwing him off. Her mouth tugs into a rueful smile. "If I was anyone else right now, I would've bled out in the amount of time it's taking you to treat my wound. Now are you going to do something, or do I have to find a mirror and do it myself?"

He visibly shakes himself out of his daze, but continues to blush furiously. It would be amusing if she didn't have an open wound right now. "We're in a combat situation," she reminds him. "Can you maybe think with your upstairs brain?"

His mouth shuts with an audible click, and the glare he gives her is beyond annoyed. But he picks up the canteen and makes his way over. He looks everywhere but at her chest as he sits behind her. She hears rummaging in the suture kit.

"What does it look like?"

"Like a gash."

"Very funny, Sasuke. I mean, how deep is it?"

"I told you, nothing vital was clipped. It's just deep," he says. "I'm going to clean it then start on the stitches. Try not to move."

They're quiet as he threads the needle through her skin. The job is long and tedious. She needs something to occupy her mind so she doesn't wince every time she feels a pinch.

"So..." she begins. "I never realised you were so easily flustered."

The needle pauses. "What?"

"I mean, it's a little weird. We spent six months in each other's bodies that one time. Seeing me without a shirt on shouldn't be anything new."

"We were thirteen," he snaps, a strained note in his voice. "And you didn't have..." She notices his unoccupied hand make a vague motion out of the corner of her eye. "... those."

"The word you're looking for is breasts," she supplies, amused. "And while I'm glad you've noticed them, they really haven't changed all that much."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly sitting in front of a mirror making an in-depth catalogue of your freckle-to-skin ratio back then," Sasuke replies defensively, jabbing the needle through her shoulder with a little more force than necessary.

Sakura hisses in response and tries to glare at him over her shoulder. He, in turn, is staring at her shoulder wound as if it holds the secrets of the universe and he can't afford to lose his concentration. Her annoyance turns to curiosity, because she only ever sees Sasuke get like this in two cases—when he's furious and when he's uncomfortable. Considering the situation, and the fact he usually lashes out at people who infuriate him with violence, she guesses it's the latter.

But why? It's not as if he...

Well, he's had to have seen a naked woman before, right? Even aside from the utterly bizarre swap they underwent when they were genin, he should've had the opportunity. They've both studied biology with diagrams and everything. He's the student of Kakashi Hatake, the most perverted shinobi in Konoha since Jiraiya. He's also teammates with Naruto, who not only parades around with his horrible Sexy Jutsu, but has been known to sneak into the women's bathhouse—she can just picture him dragging Sasuke along.

"I don't get it," she says. "You've seen Naruto."

"Naruto isn't real like.." Sasuke snaps before abruptly cutting off his words at the back of his throat as if his mouth has betrayed him.

"Like I'm real?" she supplies, her own cheeks turning pink.

"..."

"So, just now, that was the first time you've really seen a naked woman?"

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"But you just mean real as in alive, right? You've seen—I mean, I've been to Naruto's apartment and I've lived with Kakashi. I know guys have stashes of those magazines. You have to have..." He growls slightly. "Oh. Wow." Another idea occurs to her, and before she can stop herself, she blurts out, "Does that mean you've also never..."

"Never what?" he asks tightly, like he's already regretting asking.

"You know..." This time it's Sakura who makes a vague up and down motion with her hands. She feels him fumble with the needle and yelps.

"No!"

"Oh."

There's a heavy, uncomfortable silence.

"That actually explains a lot," she finally says. She knew Sasuke was repressed when it came to this sort of stuff, but what teenaged boy doesn't—ahem—take matters into his own hands?

She's a little concerned for him.

"What's that supposed to—Wait." His voice drops in suspicion and something like wary curiosity. "Have you?"

Sakura's cheeks are definitely warmer than they were before, but she tamps down any sense of embarrassment. Medic-ninja don't get embarrassed by this sort of thing.

"It's a natural, biological function. Of course I have," she sniffs. "Which is why I don't believe you haven't. Unless...unless you're just not interested. Which is okay, too, I guess." She really hopes that's not the case. "Lot's of people don't—"

"I'm interested, okay?" Sasuke barks. "I'm very, very interested." When she turns to shoot him an amused, challenging look, he scowls. "You know what I mean."

"Kind of don't."

"It's about having discipline."

"Are you sure it's not about having some kind of health issue? If you don't ever get arou—"

"Stop talking!" he cries. "I do, but I can control it. It's just a matter of focus. End of discussion."

"What's the point, though?"

"I'm done," he announces. She turns around in time to see him jump to his feet and hurry back to the spring as if he's been burned or she has some kind of transmissible disease.

Right. Because avoiding the problem will make it go away, she thinks peevishly, checking the sutures. They're a little sloppy—he must've been really distracted by the topic of conversation.

And he still hasn't answered her.

A mad idea occurs to her then. She almost dismisses it outright, but then figures, she might not get another chance like this. It's rare that they're alone together these days, even rarer that they are sent out on the same mission. He can't just run away from her in the middle of a mission, even if the mission is pretty much complete and might as well just be a stroll through the woods at this point.

In a fit of bravery, she strips off the rest of her clothing, drops it in a pile at her feet, and waits for Sasuke to return from the spring, hands on her hips.

He's several feet away before he clues into what he's seeing, and then he freezes.

Sasuke looks as if he has been turned to stone, his hands clenching around the kit. If she didn't think he could turn any redder, she was mistaken. For several seconds, his eyes zero in on everything below her neck. Sakura feels the warmth in her cheeks travel downward at this and, trying for confidence, she purrs, "Like what you see?"

Sasuke's head jerks up, but instead of meeting her eyes, he looks to the side. "Sakura...why...why are you..."

"You can't be flustered like this," she lectures him. "Naked people happen. Sometimes, you end up having to help them, especially in rescue or disaster situations. Not everyone has time to get dressed when something happens, and you can't—"

"I...don't have a problem with naked people," he grits out through clenched teeth.

"Oh, really?"

He makes a strangled sound low in his throat, which might be an affirmative; she watches his fists clench and unclench, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Sasuke is doing everything in his power not to look at her right now, and it's actually bothering her.

In fact, she's a little hurt.

"Sasuke, look at me."

"No."

"I'm giving you permission."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're..."

"Naked. Yes. We've established that," she rolls her eyes. "And to tell you the truth, the fact that my boyfriend doesn't want to see me naked, it's kind of insulting."

"What? No!" he actually does look at her now—briefly—before again averting his gaze. "That's not—I want to, just not—"

"Just not?"

"Like...this."

"Then how?"

"Could you just—please put your clothes back on?"

Sakura hesitates, and then sighs in frustration. Slowly, she gathers up her pants and tunic and pulls them back on. Sasuke twitches with every rustle of her clothing, and when she's done, she grumbles, "It's fine. You can look now, I'm decent."

He exhales and she watches the tension flow from his body.

"I'm sorry for putting you through such a hardship," she bites out, balling her hands into fists. "Let me make it easier on you and give you some space. I've got to figure out where we are anyway, so—"

She begins to breeze by him, but his hand snaps out and grabs hold of her wrist. "Sakura."

"It's fine, Sasuke."

"No, it's not."

She takes a few calming breaths, fighting down her annoyance. She has no right to be angry about this. It's not like he can help being uncomfortable. Even if she is hurt, she isn't going to let it ruin their relationship.

"Forget it, Sasuke. It's all right. We'll pretend this didn't happen, okay? We'll never talk about it again, if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want," he tells her, tugging her back so she's facing him. His entire face is drawn tight, as if in concentration, like he's trying his best to find the right words. "Sakura, when I think of...when I think of seeing you like that, it's not in a forest in the middle of nowhere, or with you wounded on a mission, or stripping of your clothes to make a point. It's in our home. With me taking off your clothes. Because we both want to."

He is as red as his favourite fruit now, cringing as if worried she'll be offended and take a swing at him. But Sakura isn't focussed on the imagery of his little confession, so much as the word choice.

"Our?" she repeats.

"What?"

"You said our. Our home."

If possible, he turns redder. "I meant—"

"Sasuke, are you asking me..."

"No! Yes. Not...not yet." He shifts uncomfortably. "But one day."

They are silent, then, the implications settling over both of them. Sakura isn't sure what to say to that.

"I..." she begins, her emotions gravitating between being utterly confused and utterly pleased. "I didn't realise you would be traditional about this sort of thing."

He shrugs. "It's something my father said once."

"Your father? You must've been very young."

"He didn't say it to me," Sasuke admits. In a lower voice, he adds, "He didn't ever really say a lot to me. It was a conversation with Itachi, but I listened in. I did that a lot."

The usual dark expression passes over his features, and she winds her wrist out of his hold to clasp his hand, offering him a comforting squeeze. "What did he say?"

Sasuke returns the brief pressure. "He said, there are certain experiences—certain privileges that you share only with the person whom you intend to spend the rest of your life with. As much as I...as much as I want..."

He trails off, looking at her meaningfully.

"You're trying to honour his memory."

"Hm."

There's another lull in the conversation as Sakura processes this. Then, "Okay."

Sasuke blinks. "What?"

"Okay. We can wait," she repeats. "I promise I won't assault your virgin eyes with my naked flesh again before you're ready."

He makes a face at this. "It sounds much less noble when it's clear you're mocking me."

"I'm not mocking you. I think it's sweet."

"Sweet," he repeats, distaste filling the lone syllable.

"Yeah," she says, smiling at him. "It's not a side of you I get to see very often. I like it. And I'm all right with waiting, if that's important to you."

"Thank you," he hedges, still sounding suspicious.

She beams and leans in to kiss him, before abruptly pulling back.

"Wait. Is this okay?" she asks. "I wouldn't want to compromise your discipline by making you feel a—"

Sasuke growls and pulls her toward him, rough but still mindful of her injury. His mouth crushes into hers, working her bottom lip between both of his. There a nip—almost a reprimand, she suspects, for her earlier teasing—and when she opens her mouth in protest, he takes full advantage, his tongue in her mouth, deepening the kiss until she's whimpering for oxygen.

When he pulls away, he looks only half as dishevelled as she feels.

"I've managed for this long," he tells her, leaning his forehead on hers. "Besides. I know of a few things that can be done which don't require any kind of nudity."

The look he gives her can only be described as smouldering, and her mouth goes dry trying to imagine the possibilities.

"But," he goes on, abruptly pulling away from her, "we'll have to discuss it some time when we're not in in a combat situation. Pack up your stuff. We'll head out in five minutes."

She gapes at his retreating back, trying to figure out what just happened.

And what he means by knowing 'a few things'.

終わり

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