Chapter 8

“Just a bit further,” Soriya muttered under her breath.

She could feel Ryuji's implacable mental signature drawing nearer. Already, his men were moving to surround her position, like vultures circling a wounded animal. Glancing briefly at the ground in front of her, she allowed a sharp grin to twist her lips. Planting sandaled feet before the small earthen alcove erosion had carved into the hill, she waited for their approach. Her ponytail fluttered in the breeze, a crimson pennant. She inhaled the damp smell of water.

The Ganji River was not too far from her current location.

The kunoichi considered her strategy once more; much depended on Yukio Ryuji's actions. If the Chief of Security sent his men at her, she could back into the alcove--force them to take her on, one or two at a time.

She highly doubted the precaution would be necessary, however.

Ryuji would not be able to resist challenging her directly. He was not a man who liked to be cheated out of anything, especially revenge.

She was counting on that.

She waited, keeping her chakra tightly suppressed. He must not have cause to be wary of her true strength. Drawing a kunai from the sheath strapped to her bare right thigh, she crouched. Shadows moved in the clearing.

“So.”

The baritone voice sounded off to Soriya's right. Out of the trees, a tall, powerfully built man in brown leathers approached. He wore a dark metal helm, the nose guard shaped to resemble a dragon's head. Narrow wings, strong enough to deflect a glancing sword blow, flanked the helm's temples. Heavy gauntlets gripped the sword belt at the man's waist, though he did not deign to draw the katana carried there. A dark cloak fell over his right shoulder, partially concealing the brown leathers. He halted twenty meters from the kunoichi's position, penetrating black eyes examining the terrain.

“Where is the other ninja?” he demanded brusquely.

Silence was his only reply. The man's brows dipped alarmingly, lips flattening to a thin line. Lust flickered briefly in the eyes that raked over her body, clad in a short black skirt and sleeveless top.

Suppressing a shiver of revulsion, Soriya gripped the hilt of her kunai in white-knuckled fingers. She was not his equal in taijutsu. She knew this. Yet, she could not allow herself to be taken too easily, lest Ryuji suspect a trap. To have any chance of success, she needed to lure him into close combat. He must not be allowed to take her down from a distance. Unblinking, she watched as he slowly advanced.

“Come now. You are vastly outnumbered here. You may as well give up and tell me who sent you. I assure you, in the end, I will find out anyway.”

His mouth turned up in a cruel smile. Without warning, he launched three shuriken at her torso in rapid succession. With no change of expression, Soriya deflected the first two missiles with the blade of her kunai, and sidestepped the third, snagging it out of the air as it zipped past her shoulder. In a motion too fast for the eye to follow, she sent the deadly projectile spinning back to its owner. Ryuji did not bother to dodge, merely lifted a forearm as the shuriken clanged harmlessly off the metal bracer he wore.

“Impressive.” He appraised her with interest as she resumed her slight crouch, awaiting his next move. “I don't sense any chakra from you. Curious. Who are you?”

She remained silent, not particularly wanting to converse with him. His death was all she desired. For Emiko. For herself.

As if he could guess the direction her thoughts traveled, he mused, “I wonder... Were you in league with that other kunoichi? The so-called flower vendor? She wasn't nearly as clever as you. I became suspicious of her frequent visits to the palace, so I had three of my men accost her on her way home. Instead of meekly submitting to their advances, she attempted to fend them off. A feat no mere flower vendor would have dared.” White teeth flashed in a feral grin. “In the end, she begged me for death, you know.”

“You lie!” Soriya hissed, voice low. Gritting her teeth, she forced down righteous anger. To give in to rage now could be fatal. She had to keep her wits about her in order to manipulate him.

“Tell me. Do you plan to send your men at me as well, then take the credit for finishing me off?” she sneered, baiting him.

Ryuji's eyes flashed and he took a step forward.

“You filthy whore. You murdered the Prince! What poison did you use?” When she did not answer, he shrugged carelessly. “No matter. Soon enough, I'll have all the answers I desire. And then I will kill you myself. Slowly. My men will not interfere.” He spoke dismissively, waving them back to form a perimeter.

“But first, I am going to take what you have been taunting me with these last few months. Again and again. And I will discover who sent you, before I'm done.” The menace of his expression was darkly eager as he pressed forward. “But don't worry. Eventually, I promise to put a permanent end to your suffering.”

Heart pounding, Soriya readied herself for his rush. He would close with her quickly, in order to use his superior size and strength. She needed to slow him down at the outset; cripple him so that he could not break away easily once he engaged her. Locking her eyes on his torso, she concentrated on anticipating his movements.

Suddenly, the glint of metal whizzed directly at her face. Recognizing it for the distraction it was, the kunoichi ducked, legs bracing to leap. Instantly, Ryuji bounded forward. As his lead foot came down just in front of her position, the ground beneath him crumbled unexpectedly, revealing the shallow trench she had prepared. Stumbling, he righted himself almost immediately, but the damage was done.

The moment his foot caught, Soriya jumped, aiming a crushing kick toward her attacker's knee. Her sandaled foot connected sharply, shattering his right kneecap and tearing ligaments. Before she could spring back out of range, the rogue ninja howled, thrusting upward with the hilt of his sheathed katana. The blow caught her under the chin, and she flew backwards, landing inelegantly on her rump. Struggling to a sitting position, the kunoichi wiggled her jaw experimentally. Fortunately, it was not dislocated.

“You bitch! You'll pay dearly for that,” Ryuji spat, fury and pain twisting his features. Staggering, he advanced on her, dragging the injured leg awkwardly. Gauntleted fingers moved clumsily through the seals of a jutsu.

Soriya's eyes widened in alarm. Hurriedly, she pushed up from the ground.

The earthen floor of the alcove shifted, engulfing the kunoichi's right wrist in a vice-like grip. Hardening instantly, the dirt felt as though it had been transformed to concrete, sucked dry of all moisture. Fear gripped her as she pulled ineffectually at the earthen shackle. Her heart thundered in her ears.

Don't panic! This is what you wanted. Be strong enough to bear it.

The urge to cast a water jutsu to free herself was strong. Almost overwhelmingly so. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the instinctive response.

Not yet. He must not fear her yet.

Freeing the kunai from her entrapped hand, Soriya tried to pry her arm free, chipping the blade of the weapon in the process.

Ryuji chuckled darkly. “It's useless to struggle.”

Reaching in casually, he grasped her left wrist, squeezing until bones ground together. Eyes watering, Soriya gasped, letting the kunai fall from nerveless fingers. She bit back the whimper rising in her throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

The man who had tortured Emiko Hagane stared down at his captive. Though the woman was clearly trapped--he could see the fear in her eyes--she was far from cowed. Instead, she seemed almost...defiant. It irritated him. Coldly, he backhanded her across the face, snapping her head sideways. Blood trickled from a split lip, as she collapsed against the ground. Ryuji summoned chakra once more, pressing her left wrist against the earth, molding a second restraint. Grasping her chin in a bruising grip, he forced her to look up at him.

“Tell me who sent you,” he ordered calmly.

She laughed, the harsh sound bubbling out from between bloodied lips. “Why? So you can rape and kill me anyway? Go to hell.” She spat a stream of bloody saliva at him.

Wiping red spittle from his face, Ryuji released the kunoichi's chin long enough to hit her with a closed fist, slamming her head back into the ground. Stars exploded in Soriya's vision as she felt her nose break. Gasping, she tried to get her eyes to focus past the pain blossoming between them. She barely heard the rogue ninja's next words.

“If you think that's the worst I can do to you, you are sadly mistaken. Your comrade found out the hard way just how imaginative I can be,” Ryuji commented, threat mingled with desire in his tone.

Soriya's skin crawled, mind racing.

I can't let him drag this out, or knock me unconscious.

Aloud she taunted, “Is beating me to a pulp the only way you can get it up? Figures. Tough guy like you intimidated by a woman unless she's tied up and helpless. You disgust me,” she sneered.

Ryuji laughed, the menacing sound at odds with the look of anticipation on his face. “I know what you're trying to do,” he warned, sending a sliver of fear through the kunoichi. “You are trying to anger me, so that I kill you quickly. It won't work. I've been waiting for this far too long.”

Crouching over her, he forced her knees apart with his legs, leaning heavily on his left side. A gauntleted hand tore at her clothing, before fumbling with his trousers. Mentally, Soriya fought to disconnect her mind, both to avoid cringing from the repulsive touch, and conversely to conceal a triumphant gleam from showing in her eyes.

Come on, you bastard! My face will be the last thing you ever see.

He entered her roughly, driving the kunoichi brutally into the ground. He smiled at the pained cry she could not quite contain.

Biting her lip to prevent any further cries, Soriya struggled to divorce her mind from the gross insult being done her body. The thought that Emiko had likely endured this, and far worse, gave her strength. It also helped that Soriya was no stranger to pain. During training, she had suffered injuries far more severe and incapacitating, though perhaps not quite so intimate in nature. She had survived them and grown stronger. She would overcome this as well.

Ignoring the pain inflicted by teeth and grasping hands, Soriya allowed her chakra to rise, slipping unnoticed into the occupied man's mind. Instead of a porous substance into which she could easily sink, she was balked by a smooth gray wall, her power sliding harmlessly over the slick surface. Gritting her teeth, Soriya expanded the power flow, fully encompassing the strange barrier.

Above her, Ryuji stiffened, aware of the intrusion. He jerked, trying to withdraw, but her legs tightened, holding him in place. With his damaged knee, he could not gain enough leverage to break her hold.

“Get out of my head, bitch!”

Orbs so dilated they appeared black instead of gray met and held his gaze. Chakra surged around Ryuji's mental barrier from all directions simultaneously. A fierce grin flashed across Soriya's bloodied face. With supreme effort, she squeezed the shield with the full force of her power. Ryuji reared in agony as the barrier buckled, then cracked.

“This is for Emiko!” the telepath snarled, power rushing into the breaches. Waves of chakra flooded the rogue ninja's brain, paralyzing him. Ruthlessly, she ripped through thoughts and memories, vindictively seizing upon the most terrible, agonizing recollections of his psyche. One after another, she flung them at him. His mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes wide, as the unrelenting mental assault swamped him.

One group of images, in particular, seemed to evoke fear in the Chief of Security. Curious, Soriya took a closer look.

A much younger Yukio Ryuji undergoing questioning by Hidden Leaf Village interrogators. They were not gentle, yet their attention did not garner the same level of abject terror as the subsequent images.

Darkness. Isolation. A cold cell. The quiet voice speaking to him, worming its way into his thoughts.

Haruma Anji. Listen to me. I can help you, but you must help me.

Soriya recognized neither the speaker nor the name, but the fear inspired in the man could not be denied. In a bizarre parallel with the current situation, Ryuji tried desperately to retreat from the voice's invasive penetration of his mind, but Soriya's power held him fast.

Methodically rifling through Ryuji's memories of the calm, implacable tones, she inhaled sharply as the face of a man appeared. He was young, mid-twenties perhaps, with shoulder-length dark hair. Steely gray eyes gleamed with intelligence.

Soriya's fists clenched in excitement. She knew this man. Determined to discover more, she plunged further into the rogue ninja's mind.

Taking advantage of her divided attention, Ryuji grunted, focusing all of his considerable will into his left hand. Engrossed in ferreting out memories of the mysterious man, Soriya realized her peril a moment too late, when the ninja's hand closed unexpectedly around her throat.

Choking, the kunoichi fought to regain control of the man's physical body. To hamper her concentration, Ryuji let his full weight drop, crushing the telepath into the earth. The impact knocked the breath from Soriya's lungs, and he gripped her neck, slamming the back of her skull viciously into the ground. Stars exploded in the kunoichi's vision as darkness hovered, waiting to claim her.

If only she could breathe...

Dimly, she heard Ryuji raging above her.

“I'll kill you! Did you really think I was that weak? Get...out...of my...head!” he screamed, banging her skull repeatedly against the earth between words.

The black void closed in rapidly. She felt no pain, only a distant sorrow at her failure. And a regretful longing for something she could not seem to remember.

I'm sorry...

Somehow it seemed vitally important she apologize. Although, with both breath and life being squeezed from her, Soriya could not clearly recall for whom the apology was intended.

Suddenly, she felt Ryuji tense. Dizzy and disoriented, she barely registered his curse as he released her bruised throat. Gasping, she sucked in a lungful of air, hindered by the man's bulk pressing down on her. A familiar mental signature brushed her mind. Dazed, she struggled to focus swimming vision.

Natsu?

Horror-struck, she tried to scream a warning as Ryuji shifted his weight, pulling a small crossbow from under his cloak. He jabbed the haft of the weapon sharply into the telepath's stomach, stealing what little breath she'd managed to recover. Soriya could only watch helplessly as Natsu's determined face appeared at the rogue ninja's back, kunai poised to strike.

Smoothly, Ryuji twisted, aiming and firing the crossbow at point-blank range. The loosed bolt struck the surprised shinobi in the throat, ripping through his jugular and carotid, as if he were a mere paper target and not one of flesh. Blood fountained outward from the gaping wound. The twang of the weapon's release sounded a moment later, almost as an afterthought, while Soriya looked on in open-mouthed horror.

Clutching his ruined throat, Natsu dropped to his knees. Shocked brown eyes met appalled gray ones. For one single, awful, precious moment, Soriya thought he struggled to tell her something. His mouth worked desperately, wet choking sounds issuing from between the bloodied lips.

Heart's blood, she knew.

Slowly, the doomed shinobi's face drained to a waxy hue and he keeled over, landing on his stomach in the dirt. Blood seeped into the ground beneath him, expanding in an ever-widening pool. Chalk-white and splashed with crimson, the expression on his face seemed almost apologetic. Feet scrabbled in the earth, the body's last, feeble attempt to cling to life.

He'd always been a fighter...

She could not look away from those sorrowful brown orbs, even as the light within them slowly faded, leaving them wide and staring.

“Nooo! Natsu!”

Something snapped inside Soriya's mind.

Red rage exploded across her vision, blinding the kunoichi with the force of its fury. Effortlessly, white-hot chakra surged, bursting open the first two Gates of Chakra Limiting. Wrists, still bound by earthen shackles, pulled against their bonds as the fingers of her right hand began to move. Water answered the silent call.

Instantly recognizing his danger, Ryuji swung the emptied crossbow directly at her face. Chakra poured forth, forming a physical barrier, smashing the weapon and the bones of the man's hand. He screamed—pain and fear mingling with furious disbelief. Before he could recover, water seeped upward from below the ground, softening Soriya's restraints. By sheer force of will, her chakra surged again, battering down the Third and Fourth Gates.

Rapidly expanding power engulfed Ryuji, filling the small alcove with light. Jerking her wrists free from the now-soggy bonds, Soriya slapped palms sharply against the rogue ninja's cheeks. Dilated eyes blinked in the blindingly white light as the telepath forced pulsating energy into his body. She wanted him to see her face. Feel her wrath.

If she did nothing else, she would kill this man.

He stared at her in horror, recognizing his death in her eyes. She spoke a single word.

“Die.”

Instantly, the chakra flooding his system exploded outward, bursting blood vessels, rupturing internal organs, shattering bones. The force and fury of her power blew him apart. Small bits of the former Chief of Security rained down, splattering Soriya, the body of her dead teammate, and the now-muddy ground beneath them with gore.

Wheezing through her damaged throat, the kunoichi struggled to rise. Failed. Coughing weakly, she slumped back in the red muck. She reached out a trembling hand to Natsu's lifeless body. The sight of his blood-flecked face and empty eyes renewed her fury.

Telepathic senses turned outward, seeking a target.

The surprise, horror, and fear emanating from Ryuji's guards called her. Hesitating, the kunoichi balanced on the knife's edge between mercy and madness.

Believing she was helpless, one of the men foolishly exhorted his fellows, “Shoot her! She can't kill us all!”

Soriya fell off the edge into madness.

Lifting a hand, power spread from her splayed fingers in a massive shock wave. Rolling out in an expanding arc, the brilliant glow ensnared each man, halting all movement. Instantly, she perceived their thoughts, felt the panic. She was larger than life, encompassing the whole of their identities...and she gloried in it.

At a thought, the wave of power narrowed to tendrils connecting her to each of the twenty men. Holding them in thrall for moments that seemed like hours, Soriya divined each man's motivations and intentions. She was judge, jury, and executioner here.

Coldly, she found them wanting.

Eyes in which the irises were completely swallowed by pupil narrowed. Slowly, the telepath's hand closed into a fist. Those near enough to see her found the strength to scream. Harshly, she yanked the tendrils back, ripping them free of the men, whose cries abruptly ceased. Twenty bodies collapsed, unmoving, in the dirt. Silvery, whiplike ribbons of power retreated, merging into a single massive band of shimmering chakra. Wickedly, the power curved back upon its wielder.

Soriya's eyes widened in alarm. Bracing for the impact of twenty minds' worth of data, she opened her mouth to scream...

...And woke to hands pinning her wrists to the bed. Still caught in the nightmare, she panicked, bucking to dislodge the unseen assailant. Urgently, a familiar voice called her name, penetrating the fog of disorientation. Vision clearing, Soriya looked up to see Kakashi's face hovering above her own.

“Soriya. You're safe. It's only me. You were having a nightmare.” The Copy Ninja looked ill, voice strained, unlike his normally placid self.

She thought she sensed shock and anger from him, but as soon as he was certain she was aware, he released his hold, retreating from her personal space. The shinobi's eyes were haunted as he observed her, his breathing a bit too fast.

Soriya sat up quickly, heart pounding. Wild-eyed, she stared uncomprehendingly at the kunai gripped in white-knuckled fingers. Alarmed, her gaze snapped upwards, raking over her lover.

“Did I--?”

“No!” He shook his head emphatically at the sheer look of horror in her eyes. “I'm not injured.” Carefully, almost hesitantly, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She stared at him. Suddenly, the dream...memory...came flooding back, filling her mind.

She remembered everything.

The rape, Natsu, the men, all of it.

Overcome by the memory of a ghostly hand clutching her throat, she gasped, unable to breathe. Dropping the kunai, her hands flew to her neck as she hyperventilated, face awash in terror.

“Soriya.” With effort, the Copy Ninja kept his voice gentle. Quietly edging closer, he stopped just shy of touching her. His breath caressed the skin of her shoulder. “It's all right. You're safe here. It's over.”

Closing slightly dilated eyes, the kunoichi concentrated on his soothing tones, fighting to slow her rapid breathing. In her mind's eye, she saw Natsu's shocked expression once more, only the look in his eyes was accusing, rather than sorrowful.

An acrid taste rose in the back of her throat.

Abruptly, she scrambled out of bed, frantically running for the bathroom as nausea surged. Hurling herself over the commode, she was violently, noisily, sick.

Gasping for breath, tears leaking from beneath closed lids, she knelt, clutching the bowl for dear life. Under the cloak of blood-red hair, slender arms shook in reaction. She did not stir as soft footsteps padded into the bathroom.

“Here,” Kakashi offered her the black robe she had worn earlier. Hiding behind the curtain of her hair, she took it, shrugging the garment on awkwardly. Listening to him move around the bathroom, she heard water run briefly before the shinobi stopped beside her.

“Use this.” He handed her a washcloth.

She took it cautiously, not wanting to accidentally brush his skin. With the memory of what her power could do at the forefront of her mind, she was unwilling to risk even incidental contact. The emotions she'd sensed from him earlier...

If he loathed her now, she didn't think she could bear it.

Just breathe. He's right—it's over and done. There's no going back.

Needing some time to compose herself, she requested hoarsely, “I need a minute, okay?”

“Sure,” he replied neutrally, retreating to the bedroom.

She sat unmoving, willing the cold, emotionless state that had served her well in the past to descend. It was more difficult to achieve than she remembered.

She pondered the Copy Ninja's initial response, not sure what to think. The shock and anger had been there, she was certain.

Did he see? Does he know?

Soriya guessed her subconscious mind, relaxing in his presence, had unlocked the suppressed memory. But had it projected the vision onto him while they slept?

Such things had happened before, though this particular event had always remained blocked. She was well aware Enya had probably given Kakashi most of the details, but seeing it first hand was very different than merely hearing about it. She'd spoken with Enya and read the written reports from the RU herself, but actually experiencing the events evoked a vastly more visceral reaction.

If she were honest, Soriya was less afraid of injuring the Copy Ninja with her gift than she was of discovering he hid disgust and loathing behind a calm facade, out of some misguided sense of duty. That, she couldn't bear.

Coward. You know he's not like that.

But the worry she might be wrong kept her frozen in place on the bathroom floor.

Finally, the sour taste in her mouth motivated the kunoichi to rise. Staggering to the sink, she turned on the tap, splashing cold water over her face. Brushing her teeth and rinsing with mouthwash made her feel marginally better. Staring at the pallid reflection in the mirror, Soriya was shocked to see dark circles under her eyes. The gray orbs looked far older than her twenty-four years.

I look like hell. Great.

She turned away from the mirror, uncaring. Her appearance reflected her emotional state perfectly.

Shoring up tattered courage, the telepath left the bathroom. Gray eyes immediately sought out the Copy Ninja.

He'd replaced his headband, covering the Sharingan, but had not dressed. Sitting in her bed, sheet gathered at his waist, the elite jonin seemed relaxed and composed. Soriya knew he could not be as calm as he appeared, despite the lack of strong emotion emanating from him. Her eyes wandered over broad shoulders, across his lightly muscled chest, then lower, tracing the fine line of silver hairs that disappeared under the sheet just below his navel. Raising her eyes back up to his dark one, the silence stretched between them. Finally, Kakashi chose to break it.

“That was some nightmare.” His tone was carefully modulated, revealing nothing of what he felt.

Soriya turned away, taking a few steps toward the balcony. She stood, head bowed, hugging herself.

“You saw.”

The Copy Ninja hesitated, but could see no benefit to be had in a lie. She had been hiding too many things, bearing too many burdens alone. He thought she was very much like him in that.

But he was older, and tired of being alone.

Contemplating the contrast between the ebony robe and mass of slightly tangled red hair cascading down her back, he answered, “Yes.”

“And now?” she asked, voice and posture betraying her anxiety. She did not look at him.

“Come here,” he beckoned, in a tone he would use to calm a shying animal.

Inhaling shakily, she gathered the strength to face him. The gentle arch of silver brow emphasized the sympathy in his dark eye. It almost undid her, making her breath hitch and eyes sting. Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, she stared at him mutely.

“Come here,” he asked again, holding out a hand to her.

She wanted to go to him. Oh, how she wanted to! Luminous gray eyes flicked from the offered hand back to his face. But her feet felt rooted to the floor. Opening her mouth to speak, no sound emerged. Coughing slightly, she tried again, voice rough and shaky.

“I'm afraid.”

Kakashi sighed, not lowering his hand. “I told you before...there is nothing you've done that will make me turn away from you. I meant it.” He gazed into the kunoichi's shadowed eyes. She had to be willing to take the risk, or all was lost. Once more, he urged, “Come here, to me. Suki.”

The sound of her name on his lips seemed to break the spell holding her in place. Tentatively, she took a step toward him. Then another. A third. Trembling fingertips reached out to take the proffered hand. Hesitated. Then, biting her lip, Soriya cast aside strong mental barriers, sliding a shaking hand into Kakashi's warm grip.

Instantly, his thoughts and feelings swamped her. Surprised by the roiling emotions concealed by the Copy Ninja's outwardly calm demeanor, she flinched, almost letting go. Fingers tightened around her, refusing to relinquish the tenuous contact. Inorexibly, he pulled her closer.

She went slowly, feet dragging, but not quite resisting, absorbed in sifting through the myriad emotions of this complex man. She'd known him for more than half her life, but suddenly, Soriya felt as though she'd never truly known him at all.

Quietly, he cautioned, “Make sure you see all of what is there. Not just what you think you ought to see.”

Digesting the cryptic words, connected only by their palms, the telepath opened herself fully to his pain. It was, after all, the dominant emotion she sensed from him. Pain for what she had endured. Anguish that he could do nothing to prevent it. Guilt that he had abandoned her years ago, leading, in his mind, to this tragedy. Sorrow for the loss, her loss, of Natsu and Emiko. Grief for the guilt he knew she would carry for a lifetime.

Mingled with these were flashes of old sorrows. The loss of Rin and Obito, for which he felt personally responsible. His father's failure and subsequent suicide. More recently, the struggle to reclaim Sasuke from the result of the Uchiha's revenge over his traitorous elder brother, an event that had almost led to the young shinobi's destruction. Closely entwined was the palpable foreboding that Soriya was headed down a similar path.

Kakashi wrestled with feelings of fear and helplessness, worrying that ultimately, he could do nothing to turn the kunoichi from her present course. He was bitterly angry at himself for not becoming involved earlier, and for leaving in the first place. Angry at Soriya for the brutal methods she continually chose to punish herself for the loss of her parents, the Itasukis, and now, her teammates. He raged, wishing he could have killed Ryuji himself for what had been done to her and Emiko.

But he also harbored deep resentment that Soriya would willingly, knowingly seek her own death, all for revenge. He thought it entirely selfish of her. How dare she leave him that way! To cope with the knowledge of her death, and his failure to prevent it... Just as his father had done.

Soriya gasped, surprised by this revelation, and his personalization of her actions. She had not truly given thought to the pain her death would cause him. He'd always been so strong and aloof, although she knew the masked shinobi cared. She hadn't realized the comfort he took, merely in knowing she was alive and well, if not physically present in his life.

He'd struggled for years to control protective feelings that were secretly selfish in nature, inextricably linked as they were to his suppressed desire and longing for her. Kakashi desperately wanted to keep her safe, but realistically, he knew it was impossible. She was shinobi; it was a hazardous life. And even had she not been, he could not shield her from the world, the past, or her own personal demons.

Recently, he had come to the realization that he could only offer her his trust, the shelter of his arms, and an unconditional love and acceptance. He hoped and prayed, but was by no means certain, that it would be enough.

Overcome, the kunoichi sank down onto the bed. She stared at the man she loved.

I had no idea how much you suffered.

Kakashi reached out, pulling her into his embrace. Resting her cheek against the smooth skin overlaying hard muscle, she listened to the slow, steady throb of his heart. The tension gradually drained out of her and she relaxed against him. His chest rumbled under her ear as he spoke.

“Suki.”

She looked up at him, eyes moist.

“Why do you do that? Call me by that name?” she asked, tears threatening to clog her throat, choking off her voice.

“Because your name means 'beloved',” he replied softly. “And here, with me, you are. Always.”

A single tear spilled down her face as she absorbed his words and the truth behind them. He released her hand, only to trace a finger lightly down the moisture on her cheek. She'd never been blessed with the ability to express herself well with spoken words. It required too much patience. She vastly preferred the written word—it allowed one time to think; or action, perhaps because it didn't.

Here, she chose the latter, slowly reaching up to press butterfly kisses to the lid of the Copy Ninja's dark eye, then the headband covering its mate. Her nose rubbed against him, inhaling the intoxicating, slightly spicy scent that was heady and male, and undeniably Kakashi. Moving to his lips, she sighed his name as a benediction, then kissed him deeply. Pulling back, she gazed at him, cupping his face between her palms.

“Are you sure you want this?” she asked, searching his expression for any sign of doubt. “I can't promise things will ever be easy with me,” she warned.

He smirked. “I'm a big, tough jonin. I think I can handle you.” Then more seriously, “So long as you promise never to willingly leave me.” Hands on her arms shook her slightly for emphasis.

She stared at him with wide, solemn eyes. Then, slowly, she leaned into him, answering his sole demand with a kiss. Molding her lips to his own, she let her eyes fall closed, concentrating on the feel and taste of him. Questing fingers roved down the column of his throat, along broad shoulders, tracing the hollows above the collarbones. He was all lean, hard muscle, flexing under her hands; she loved it.

Panting, she broke away from his mouth, trailing kisses along the underside of his jaw. His pulse leapt under her lips in excitement. Lightly, she scored his jugular with her teeth, making him grunt. Sucking the skin into her mouth to ease the hurt, she drew a moan from his throat instead. The passionate sound made things low in her belly contract. Suddenly, she yearned to feel his skin pressed against her own.

As if reading her mind, Kakashi's hands fell to untying the sash at her waist. Shrugging graceful shoulders, Soriya let the material fall to the floor. Strong hands wandered teasingly over porcelain skin, making her heart race.

“So soft,” Kakashi murmured, placing open-mouthed kisses down the kunoichi's slender neck to the valley between her breasts.

Pushing the sheet roughly aside, Soriya straddled him, rubbing the tips of her breasts against his chest. Arms encircled her, one hand winding itself in crimson, as the other pressed against the small of her back, coaxing her spine to arch. The movement thrust her breasts toward Kakashi's eager mouth, and she moaned in delight as lips and tongue suckled each hardened peak.

Wanting to reciprocate, the kunoichi stroked across the Copy Ninja's chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tighten under her fingers. His breathing quickened and her hand drifted lower, encircling him gently. He inhaled deeply, letting his face rest against the elegant line of her throat as she stroked him. His eye closed and he made a sound deep in his chest she swore was almost a purr.

Caressing him more firmly, she was mildly startled when he raised his head, bringing lips to hers in a demanding kiss. Strong hands smoothed down over the swell of her hips, to the curve of her bottom. Kneading the pliant flesh for a moment, Kakashi's hands skimmed lower, fingertips trailing along inner thighs to the backs of her knees.

Anticipating him, Soriya widened her stance, breath coming faster between kisses. Warmth pooled between her legs.

When his right hand moved upward, she sighed, eyes closing in pleasure. The hand stroking him paused momentarily as he deftly parted tender folds, teasing her with a feather-light touch. Compulsively, her hips began to writhe in time with the motion of his fingers. She wrapped an arm around his neck for balance; she was having difficulty holding herself steady as a delicious tension coiled in her lower belly.

“K-Kakashi,” she gasped into his ear.

“Hmm?” The Copy Ninja rubbed his face slowly against her cheek, nuzzling her with nose and lips.

“If you keep doing that...” her breath hitched, “I'm seriously going to...” another gasp, “lose it.”

“Mmm. And that's...a problem...because?” he drawled, sucking the skin along her pulse point into his mouth between words. To provoke her further, he slowly and deliberately slipped a finger into her welcoming heat, wringing a soft cry from her lips. Unable to stop herself, Soriya pressed down against his hand. Desperate to feel him inside her, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

Releasing him suddenly, she flattened both palms against his chest, pushing firmly. He lay back without resistance, mouth curving in a wicked smile, as he kept up the slow, steady motions over her tenderest flesh.

“Because...” Her mind drew a blank as he stroked her, the coiling sensation winding itself a little tighter.

“Yes?” Kakashi's eyelid drooped lazily as he gazed up at the blatantly wanton expression on her beautiful face.

He really is far too smug.

Lowering her lips to his ear, Soriya murmured, “Because...then you'd miss out on this.”

Lightly nipping his earlobe with her teeth, she reached back, pulling his teasing fingers away. Holding his wrist to the bed, she kissed him hard on the mouth, urgency apparent in the force of the contact. Rubbing her moist center over his length, she lifted slightly before sinking down onto him.

He released a strangled groan, pushing upward into velvet warmth. Red tresses cascaded over a pale shoulder as Soriya leaned over him, rocking slowly. Silken strands brushed his chest and he inhaled the sweet scent of honeysuckle. Tangling a hand in the crimson fall, Kakashi pulled her closer, breathing huskily into her ear, “I see your point.”

She chuckled, a low, seductive sound that resonated throughout her body.

“Somehow, I knew you would,” she purred, pausing to nibble on his lower lip before pushing herself back up. Releasing his wrist, her fingers traced lightly over old battle scars on the planes of his chest, lingering briefly to tease flat nipples.

So many old hurts.

She wanted to run her tongue along each one, but then his hands resumed caressing her breasts, tugging on the taut nipples, and thoughts fled her mind. Arching into his touch, Soriya increased the pace, pressing down on him. The increased friction forced high, breathy sounds from her throat.

Strong hands dropped to her hips, grasping them firmly. Thrusting upward more deeply, Kakashi strove to heighten the intense sensation. Gasps turned to moans as the coiling pleasure inside the kunoichi wound itself ever more tightly. Her body took control, motions becoming more frenzied as she tightened around him.

“S-Suki,” Kakashi groaned raggedly, warning her he was nearing the limit. The sound of her name on his lips abruptly released the coiled spring in her womb, triggering waves of cascading ecstasy. With a loud cry, she pulsed around him, back arching in bliss. Kakashi thrust into spasming heat once...twice...a third time, then grunted sharply as passion overcame him.

Body throbbing with pleasure, Soriya leaned forward, collapsing onto her lover's chest. Contentedly, she listened, eyes closed, to the strong heartbeat of the man beneath her. She gloried in the feel of his fingers idly running through her hair, stroking her skin with the soft, silky strands. The quasi-ticklish sensation felt good, and she stretched languorously, savoring it. She felt a delicious soreness; Soriya knew she'd likely sport some lovely bruises on her hips from his fingers, but found the thought oddly pleasing. Marks of belonging, she supposed.

Next time, I'll have to give him something to remember me by.

Lulled by the even sound of his breathing, Soriya drifted into a half doze, as the shadows of early evening cast a gloom over the bedroom.

Some time later, she woke, wrapped in his arms. Her cheek stuck lightly to his warm skin, and she moved her face seeking a cooler spot.

“Awake?” Kakashi's voice rumbled under her ear.

“Mm. Barely.” She sighed.

Kakashi rubbed his chin along the top of her head. “What are you thinking?”

Nuzzling her face against his chest, Soriya planted a kiss just above his heart. “I'm wishing we could just stay like this forever.” She sighed again. “But, unfortunately, the real world always finds a way to intrude.”

He hugged her to him, saying nothing. He wanted to give her the opportunity to confide in him of her own accord. She did not disappoint him.

“Kakashi...” she began, voice serious. “There's something I have to tell you. Something I've figured out regarding the traitor. I've suspected for awhile, but now, with the return of my memory, I'm sure of it.” She paused, ordering her thoughts.

He waited patiently for her to find the words. After sharing her memory of Yukio Ryuji's death, he had a feeling he knew what she was going to say.

Drawing a deep breath, she exhaled slowly through parted lips. It was harder than she anticipated, speaking the words. Gaining strength from the comforting squeeze of strong arms, the telepath admitted in a rush, “I think my uncle, Akira Kanzin, might be alive.” Expecting some sort of shocked response, Soriya lifted her head in surprise when none was forthcoming.

Kakashi replied, “You are speaking of the psych-nin? The one in Ryuji's, or should I say, Anji's memory?”

She nodded, confused.

“But how did you--?” She considered a moment, then guessed, “Tsunade told you about the research I was doing.”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Pensively, she admitted, “You know, I don't even know what prompted me to look up those old records. The name 'Haruma Anji' just came to me after one of my many nightmares. I couldn't rid myself of the feeling that it was important, so I did some digging. That's how I found the connection between he and, and my uncle.”

She hesitated. Granting the man such a familiar title seemed wrong, if he had truly committed the sins she feared.

“I never knew Akira,” she explained slowly. “He died before I was born. But my father grieved for him, I know. Every year, we lit a candle and burned incense in front of his picture on his birthday, and on the anniversary of his death.

“Oddly enough, I can't really remember my mother's feelings about him. She never performed the ceremony with Father, though I can't think why. But she never objected to it either, as far as I know. When I was older, Father let me help light the candle and incense.” She frowned, trying to recall. “I guess I just wasn't old enough to understand. But now, I wonder. It does seem strange.”

Soriya was quiet a moment, resting her chin on the hand pressed against his chest.

Kakashi admitted, “I only saw the face of the man in your memory of Ryuji's thoughts. I didn't get anything else. What makes you so sure he's alive? Not that I doubt you, understand. But we have to be sure, before we take this to the Hokage.”

She sighed. “I can't be certain, of course. But if Ryuji survived the plunge over the Ganji, why not Akira? I've always had a knack for water ninjutsu. Perhaps he did, as well. Though I confess, I've never tried throwing myself over an almost two hundred meter waterfall,” she remarked dryly.

“But it makes sense in other ways, as well. If Akira is the traitor, he would have intimate knowledge of the Kanzin clan's history and powers. He was a gifted empath in his own right. Who knows what other powers he may have possessed? Ryuji certainly seemed to fear him, from what I could gather.”

The Copy Ninja turned her explanation over in his mind.

“I don't like it. We're missing something. Why would Akira fake his own death, hide for years, then send rogue ninja after you? It doesn't make sense.” He frowned. “The Hokage told me Ryuji directed the ninja that murdered the Itasukis. She has reason to believe he was also the hand behind your parents' disappearance. If that's true, it would have to be at Akira's behest. But why?”

“I don't know!” she exclaimed, frustrated. “I don't know enough about him to understand his motives. Maybe he plans to make use of me in some nefarious plot. Maybe he's just crazy.” She laughed shortly. “It does run in the family, you know.” She sighed in exasperation. “Who knows what his reasons are? We can ask him once we find him. The sooner, the better.”

Kakashi kissed her forehead. “I'm glad to hear you say 'we.' You know I'll do everything I can to help you. You don't have to do this alone.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, kissing him softly. “Surprisingly, just knowing that does make me feel better. I'm really glad you decided to drop back into my life.”

“So am I,” Kakashi affirmed. “I only wish I had never left at all.”

“You can't change the past; I know that all too well,” she said soberly. “But we can do better in the future. Both of us.”

They lay quietly for a time, simply enjoying the comfort of each others' arms. Eventually, the Copy Ninja broke the contented silence.

“So. What do you think our next move should be?”

“Mmm,” Soriya mumbled, half asleep. “I think we should find out if I'm right about Akira surviving the trip over the falls.”

“How will we do that?” Kakashi wondered, curious but apprehensive. He had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't like the answer.

Yawning, the kunoichi replied drowsily before drifting off to sleep, “By seeing if I can survive it myself.”

He was right, of course.