A complication.

This was a complication.

He turned his head to glance down to his right. Dark hair spilled in a wave, free from the leather thong which usually contained it, to fall against a back slightly scarred from dangerous foes and even more dangerous allies.

Ruby eyes gleamed, breathtakingly intense as they lingered on the nude body of the kunoichi beside him. White sheets twisted about her, gaping in some places to expose milky skin. Her breaths rose and fell peacefully, her vibrant locks splayed about her. So innocent. He thought. So trusting. So damnable. Yet it wasn't this sumptuous display that caught his eye. It was something far less appealing.

How had he been so foolish? Every step, every breath he took was calculated. A single variable in the equation he was bent on writing. Yet in this he had faltered, invited an unknown into that deceptively fragile equation. His lips twitched just slightly. A complication.

He supposed it had been that same careful planning that brought him to it. That strange fault in logic.

His eyesight had been failing─far faster than he had anticipated. Yet another unknown in his careful construction. Little more than blind, afflicted with a strange illness that had taken up in his form, he feared death. No, not the loss of life. His life had been thrown away years ago when he first set out on this course. He feared the incompletion of his equation, of an untimely death stealing away the outcome he had meticulously worked at.

And so, he decided healing was in order. Yet the illness was too strange, his sight too far gone. The dozens of medics he had consulted had all claimed the same: they had neither the knowledge nor the skill necessary to help him. He would have to seek the best.

And so another plan was born, another equation to compliment the decade's long work already in his mind. He would find her, apprehend her, and offer her a deal. In exchange she would cure him. The hokage's apprentice.

For months he had tailed her, observed her movements and absorbed her habits to learn of the best time to strike. Finally after four months of planning and two of observation he had caught her. Captured her in the slow spin of his tomoe to revive once he came to the next part of his plan. She had been angry, furious even at her capture and been most unresponsive. He had expected as much, but what he had not expected was the degree of her fury. So intense and powerful was she he had been forced to subject her to the effects of his Mangekyo again and again. There was hardly a chance for him to speak.

He was patient however. Regardless how pressing the issue, patience was a virtue he had learned long ago and soon enough the kunoichi tamed. Her mind freed of her immense rage, the kunoichi was finally able to see the merit in his proposition. His health in return for the protection of the Kyuubi brat. She had not believed him. He had known she wouldn't at first, but in the end, the lure was too great. She bucked under the weight of that promise and with snarling teeth she had agreed to help him.

The days passed slowly at first, caution making each of them infinitely sensitive to the slightest movement of the other. Surprisingly, that changed. As the number of days continued to climb they had reached some strange accord, almost understanding each other. It had shocked him. He blamed the lack of socialization. He blamed nature. Most of all, he blamed himself. He had become used to her and when their sessions finally dwindled he had found himself, for the first time in a long time, dreading a parting.

He was shinobi, a weapon. But he was also human, he knew that too well. Humans he knew craved touch, craved affection─ needed it even. Without it they would die, wither as infants despite their most basic needs being met. Growing older, he knew, did not erase those cravings. Perhaps he had been starved for attention, starved for that affection and caring so integral to human life. It was the only logical explanation. The emotions he had tried to seal and dispel had trickled into him, tainting the icy touch of sorrow and guilt that numbed him and strengthened his resolve. Once again he felt his humanity.

Flawed, human. He craved her. Craved the kindness and the warmth she eluded so freely, and like a moth to a flame he was drawn to her. He was burned. He recalled the nights he had unknowingly sought her. His feet betraying him and leading him towards the places he knew she could be found. And he had watched her. With eyes keener than they had been in nearly a decade he had watched her, imprinting every aspect of her into his mind in stilled perfection.

Another unknown in the equation. He knew it could damn him. Too many unknown variables; they skewed the data. Yet he did not fathom how much a single unknown could have affected him so. One unknown had created another instead of being solved away within its equation.

But perhaps even this would not have been so damning. So destructive to his lifelong work, had she not responded. Seized by his need, the patience he was known for eluded him. He had reached for her, fully expecting to be rebuffed, but she answered him. Unknown, another damned unknown, she had wanted him too, their past interactions touching her in a way so foreign and unexpected she held no defense against it. Their actions only sealed their fate.

Fevered, consumed, stripped of the control he so valued he had given in and so had she. His mouth met hers and he became her first. The first to kiss her, the first to hold her, the first for so much more. Yet she too became his first. His lips had been taken years ago but never had hands held him so tenderly, never had he touched so furiously, never had he taken a woman. She was his first, and he damned himself for it.

Sayuri. The first flower he had tarnished.

She had been his third cousin, two years his senior and betrothed to him since infancy. He had loved her like he loved all his kin and as he grew older that love morphed. Prompted and planted there by his family he had learned to care for her, and when the first flush of hormones had taken him, they had kissed, chastely, sweetly. They had learned to care for each other. Knowing one another better than any other female save his mother due to the title she held. Sayuri. She had been the only one who refused to bow to him for being Uchiha heir. That defiance attracted him, yet it was that same defiance that condemned her. The fires of rebellion burned strongly in her and, prompted by the clan elders, she had become their spy. He had never had the chance to learn to love her as he should, but he was sure, had he not been forced with her death, he would have.

Afterwards his heart was steeled. A myriad of woman had come to him, lured by his face and the intensity of his aura. They sickened him. Every touch was a reminder of what had been lost, every smile empty and unmoving. He had not felt attraction since her and he was sure he never would. The thought pleased him. A woman would be a complication, a tool capable of being used against him and another variable capable of stealing away the fate he had planned; it would be better to never become involved with one. There was no one. No one after Sayuri. Not until her.

And that brought him back to his original thought. This was a complication.

The stolen moments throughout the months in which they had kissed and caressed and slowly learned each other's secrets. His lips curled, turning in a faint smirk. She was a smart one, his flower. Between cryptic statements and longing looks she had managed to piece together the truth. Or at least part of it. He could not afford to have her learn more.

Affection, therefore, only grew and it was inevitable they would desire to meet again. And they did. Painstakingly careful they had sought what they craved from each other, bodies twinning again and again. It cemented their bond, and he had to admit, if only to himself, it made him desire to be less cautious. Yet his goal, imprinted brightly into his mind held him back. Caution would be first and foremost, it would not do to sabotage his plan further.

It was cruel. He knew it. To meet with her again and again when his plans were already firmly set. Yet in his humanity he could not deny her, could not deny himself in this. Many a night he cursed himself, damned himself for intending to allow another person to suffer so agonizingly so. He should have stopped before it began, stopped once it had. Before too many bonds had been made. Now it was too late. She would suffer. He knew it. Her heart was too kind not to.

Again his eyes riveted to her slumbering form, stopping briefly at her parted lips, her smooth breasts, before settling once again on her exposed navel. The lines on his face deepened, making it seem older, wearier.

There. He could see it. His sharingan capable of detecting the minute, steady flow of chakra collecting there. It was undeniable. Despite their collective efforts something, somehow had gone wrong. It was illogical.

Briefly he wondered if perhaps she had been unfaithful, seeking solace in another's arms. The thought was quickly discarded. His kunoichi was too fiercely loyal to even contemplate the notion.

His lips pursed. There was always a chance she had lied. He was not easy to fool, by no means, but, carried by desire, might he have missed something? Some flicker of the eye or change in tone that indicated a lie? He did not think so. Too many years as a missing nin had bred even greater caution into him. No, he admonished himself. That could not be it. There would be nothing for her to gain by such an action but greater heartache and the possibility of death. The elders would never admit their involvement and she was not aware he still retained the original mission scroll.

Ninety-nine point nine percent. That was how effective their combined methods were. That point one percent, could it have failed them? A wry smirk threatened to appear on his face. Fate had an affinity for cruelty. He would not put it past it to force him again to make another difficult decision.

Regardless, the deed was done. Soon, even members of the Hyuuga clan would be able to see the change if not the kunoichi herself. His eyes closed and he sighed wearily.

He could terminate it. Little more than a cluster of cells too miniscule to be seen by average sight, it was fragile. Incredibly so. A bit of pressure on the right point, a brief disruption of the chakra flow, and it would disappear as though it never was. Even the pesky matter of miscarriage could be taken care of with a well made jutsu. She would never even have to know…

He reached out to her. A hand hovering over her body still outwardly unaffected by the changes within. If he concentrated he could almost feel it, the heat of a life beginning. How easy it would be to destroy it. His hand lowered, fingers lightly caressing the skin there.

Sensing the touch, she moved, stretching with a feline grace as she shifted closer to him with a smile curving on her lips as she slept on. So much trust… His breath caught, released. He couldn't do it.

Those hands she trusted so had been stained with too much blood. He would not add another to that list. Not if he could help it. Leaning, he placed a soft kiss to her abdomen the strands of his hair pooling in a dark curtain of silk about him.

"Trouble. You are so much trouble," he breathed.

Something would have to be done. He could not carry out the final movements of his act with such a responsibility looming over him. It was too dangerous. To him and to her. Guilt ate at him. He did not deserve this. A woman who loved him and a child to come. He didn't deserve any of it. But fate had saw fit to intervene again, upsetting all the carefully laid strategies to thrust him into the unknown once more. I'm sorry. He thought. Chichue… Hahue… I'm sorry; I cannot pay for my crimes yet. Sasuke… His eyes closed as his heart twisted. Sasuke… I am sorry otouto. It seems I have lied. I cannot allow you to kill me.

He would have to find another way to pay his penance. A way that did not tear him from the woman at his side. Shifting he pulled at the sheets and moved to lay beside her, arms pulling her into the protective curve of his body, and gratefully she turned into him, snuggling into his warmth.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would work on a new plan. A new equation. One where such complications would be welcome.


A short little oneshot for you all...

To be honest, I was going to withold this for later this month or maybe December, but I am hoping I will be more productive during my winter break so I am releasing it now. May or may not get another one shot as a not-quite-sequel.

Probably will have quite a few short oneshots or short coming in the next couple of months due to the large amount sitting partially written on my computer.

Remember Rate and Review!

-SacredRoseDream

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto