FicWad

I’m too ashamed to post this up on fanfiction.net or Ao3, so here it goes. I hope you enjoy it! I will say that this isn’t a harem fic. I dislike harems and find them intensely unrealistic.

Not that this isn't unrealistic.

P.S. I apologise for the mixed pronouns in this chapter.

+++++

This is how it starts.

He’s twelve and curious and it’s not like Sakura-chan is gonna kiss him anytime soon. And if she is gonna, he might as well be prepared, am I right?

So he’s in his apartment, transformed into the illusion of Naruko. Only he knows, he knows that unlike all his other attempts at the Transformation Jutsu, that this is solid, this is real.

“Shadow Clone no Jutsu.”

A male-him appears right beside him; he’s tempted to try and switch because he sure as hell isn’t being the girl in this situation but the thought of redoing this makes him want to chicken out. Whatever. Whatever, right?

“This is so weird,” his clone complains.

“Shut up,” s/he tells it. Even his voice is higher, girlier than before. “Or I’ll dispel you.”

It’s just a kiss, he tells himself. Just a kiss.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already lost his first –

It is the spike of trauma and censored thoughts that makes him lean in. The kiss is an awkward, fumbling motion; wet and sloppy and tasting of ramen. He leans back, disappointed.

“You’re a terrible kisser,” he (she) tells her clone. “This isn’t working.”

The clone glares at him (her), then slowly, defiantly, raises his fingers and transforms. A poof of smoke, then Sakura appears, only this Sakura is just a little taller, a little less child-like, sleek and so damned pretty it hurts to look at her. Pink hair like cherry blossoms, eyes of jade, and the barest hint of hip.

“Try me,” says the clone, blowing a strand of hair from her (his) face.

The second time is much, much, better.

+++++

This is how it continues.

They’re in Wave, facing the tree, the stupid stupid tree Sakura-chan manages to get to the top of first, and she’s sitting there all smug-like. Like, okay, he’s happy for her, and hooray it isn’t Sasuke up there for once (though the bastard is still way, way higher than he is) but would it kill the universe for once to give him an easy challenge once in a while?

“Congratulations, Sakura,” Kakashi smiles through his mask. “Of course, females on average tend to have better control, but that doesn’t excuse your teammates’ performances. Naruto, I thought you wanted to be Hokage?”

Sasuke snorts, the bastard.

“And I suppose the high and mighty Uchiha Clan’s reputation is a little overstated.”

There’s a sudden wave of killing intent – nowhere near as freaky as Zabuza’s – but it’s enough to make Naruto shudder, just a little.

“Well, chop chop my cute little students,” says Kakashi. “Sakura, you get to come with me.”

Sasuke, of course, keeps winning. His strokes get higher and higher while Naruto is stuck on the same damned level, and no matter how much he charges he’ll only get to the top long after Sasuke is finished. It’s so unfair that Sakura happens to have some nifty chakra ability and the advantage of being a girl –

The idea that snaps into his head is the stupidest one ever.

Sasuke’s three quarters of the way up the damn tree.

It probably won’t work, but the smirk that gets thrown at him is so infuriating he tries it, because anything that can get him higher up the tree and closer to punching the bastard’s stupid stupid face would be a good thing.

The seals are performed with rapidity and dexterity. He flicks through them so fast you’d only see the blur of his fingers if you were watching closely. The solid transformation dapples over him, so subtle that you wouldn’t even notice the difference if you’d turned away or blinked.

He’d… ah… been practicing.

It beat porn quite a bit if you didn’t think too hard.

There’s a slight change in facial structure – only slight – but the rest is the same, from the completely flat chest to the whiskers. His hair is just as short and spiky.

Well, aside from the missing penis but it wasn’t all that noticeable under his baggy tracksuit so…

His balance was a little off – most of the time he or his clones spent in this form was on the bed (and once in the shower) – so he nearly stumbled on a root. His (her) foot hit the trunk. He squeezed shut his eyes and ran.

And ran.

And when he felt himself begin to slip he marked a slash two steps higher than before.

Two steps higher.

Damn.

In the meanwhile, Sasuke’s flagging. He’s looking worn, perfect prodigy façade wearing through under exhaustion. Each run is done slower. His progress slows to a crawl.

Naruto just keeps on going. Soon he’s at the halfway height of the tree. Then he’s matching an infuriated Sasuke, step for step as they both charge up the trunk. They’re both nearly to the top, so close…

Unfortunately, as a girl his balance is off enough that he can’t match the same length of stride as he used to. Sasuke pulls ahead and marks a slash, irritatingly close to his final destination.

Naruto hits the same height before his control skids and he too is forced to flip back down.

Sasuke’s already running up as he lands, feet pounding against the bark. He’s at the top but then he slips just before he makes it. Naruto can hear the growl from the ground. He’s silent as he lands, dusting his shorts off. He notices Naruto’s hesitation.

“What, idiot, have you given up already? Tch.”

“Like hell,” Naruto snarls before he charges up and runs. Up and up and up. His shoes slip on bark worn loose but he somehow manages, just barely even as the bark itself cracks and falls to the ground. He can feel his chakra getting wilder, just barely under his control, seething beneath his feet. He reaches Sasuke’s highest height when his control slips.

But instead of slashing the bark he uses the last bit of momentum, runs the last two steps, for the briefest moment defying gravity as he soars through the space and reaches the very very top.

He’s done it. He’s damn well done it.

He’s beaten Sasuke.

He’s won.

“Suck on that!” Naruto gloats from his new-found position, swaying on the top of the tree. He adds, for emphasis, “Dead-last.”

A kunai hurtles through the air at his face. Naruto dodges it and cackles.

“Aww Sasuke-kun,” he imitates Sakura now, clasping his hands together in feigned girlish delight. “Does the great and mighty Uchiha need help?”

Sasuke all-but-snarls as he crosses the gap and hits the peak of his own climb. “You were saying?” he demands, crossing his arms.

Naruto pouts before he even realises what the hell he’s doing. Yeah, no. Pouting is the sort of thing that Sakura does, not a self-respecting future Hokage. Clearly it’s time to skedaddle and get out of this transformation.

“I still got there before you,” he sing-songs before he jumps.

+++++

When he gets back to the house, it’s with a boast held tight in his chest. He waits until the food’s all ready and served by Tsunami – Tazuna’s still napping from working so hard at bridge-building – when chimes in, “By the way, I got to the top of the tree faster than Sasuke.”

“As if,” says Sakura. “Your chakra control is the worst in the Academy!”

Really, he wished Sakura weren’t so head-over-heels because she was pretty and smart and fierce and she was wasted on the prick. “Ask Sasuke yourself then,” he says, then remembers that the one thing the Avenger hates is confessing failure and inferiority.

And guess who would win that argument?

But to his surprise, Sasuke says, “He reached the top of the tree first.” He doesn’t elaborate – who would? – but that alone makes Sakura gasp.

“Why do you keep on trying?” demands the little snot-head that’s their client’s son, all whiny and irritating. Naruto would punch him, but as the kid runs off, he reminds himself of his success and his awesome day and no way would that brat ruin it for him.

He beat Sasuke.

He beat Sasuke.

Fuck yeah he’s awesome.

“Since you did so well, you can take the watch after mine,” Kakashi informs him. His crutches lean against the wall. His eye crinkles. “As a reward.”

Naruto’s indignant. “More like a punishment!”

Sakura giggles, which makes him scowl, at least until she takes his bowl and refills it and her smile is so nice that he almost doesn’t mind that it’s directed to his annoyance. It also makes it easier to ignore the fact that when she does the same for Sasuke, she positively coos, taking every excuse to stroke his hair and shoulder.

He’d just get better until she wouldn’t even bother LOOKING at Sasuke.

++++

It’s an hour into the watch and bitterly cold (damn you, Kakashi!) when he hears footsteps down the path outside the house. He’s got a kunai about to be hurled when he recognises who it is hunched beneath the hood.

Tsunami.

“Oi, it’s two in the morning,” he tells her, and she startles. Sheesh, did the lady really think she could sneak by a ninja? Then suspicion flares. Where is she going? Why is she here? What is she doing?

“Let me go,” she all but begs. “Please. Just – pretend you didn’t see me. I’ll be back by morning.”

He’s, predictably enough, irritated. “Or I could tell your old man Tazuna that you’re putting yourself in danger.”

The response startles him into fear. “Please! Don’t tell him about this, I couldn’t bear –” she stops. “Please, I promise I’ll be back safely.”

He’s all but ready to shoo her back inside, but something about her manner, something about her begging reminds him of Iruka begging before Mizuki-sensei, pleading to let him out alive. Something in her voice reminds him of Kakashi trapped in that bubble, telling them to run and leave him behind.

It’s so, so stupid, but somehow he can’t bring himself to stop her.

“Alright,” he forms the hand-seals for Shadow Clones. He summons a good hundred, and with nary an order they disperse into the surrounding woods, transform into bugs and leaves and night birds in wait. “I’ll go with you.”

“You mustn’t –” says Tsunami, but she looks at him, and maybe his own expression reminds her of somebody in her past too, because she stiffens and says with just the tiniest quaver, “Ninja can transform, right?” She hesitates, worries at her lip. “Pick someone older.”

He’d like to say he chose the form he’d chosen because it would make it harder to recognise him, but the truth is it just slides over him like clicking a lock shut. His girl-form, busty and blonde and about seventeen is his default, the thing he snaps into when he doesn’t actively choose anything else.

“I suppose you’ve been where no child should be, shinobi-san,” she tells him. Her voice is flat, like he’s scared her. “You’d fit in rather well.”

Something about the way she says it scares the hell out of him.

++++

Their destination, it turns out, is a place with a tacky sign saying ‘The Den of Delight’ that flashes in red like fairy-lights. It kinda reminds him of a cheap, rundown version of a place in the Make-out Paradise books Kakashi read all the time and that he’d snuck out of a bookstore out of curiosity.

It was written really weird and flowery and honestly it took too long to get to the fun parts, so Naruto couldn’t really say he liked it.

“Is she applying for a place here?” demands the owner, an old woman with a stooped back and frizzy grey hair. “I have to say, she looks almost too young.”

“I’m her guard,” says Naruto sweetly. “Just in case.”

“Tch, I suppose she’ll draw a few eyes,” mutters the old woman. “Sit her by the bar, won’t you, Tsunami?”

Tsunami moves off into another room, and Naruto says, “Hey! I’m meant to be watching her –”

The old lady snorts. “You want to watch some old, fat man fuck her?”

Naruto’s mouth goes dry, real dry, because suddenly he (she) realises. Tsunami was – Tsunami was –

He fumbles in his pocket but of course they’re empty, no shinobi brought money out on missions unless it was crucial to mission success. He very much doubts they’re going to let Tsunami off even if he gives them an IOU. She’s got a son, even if he’s a whiny brat. She’s got a father risking his neck every day to build a bridge to save their country.

She doesn’t deserve this, not a whit. He wonders if Tazuna knows.

He wonders if Tazuna would stop her, if he did.

“Sit down and stop looking like that, else I’ll have to tell you to leave.”

He wants to just grab Tsunami’s arm and storm the hell out, but –

He’d done stuff he hadn’t been proud of either, for food, when the stipends ran low. And he’d done stuff he hadn’t been so proud of either, for revenge, before Iruka-sensei set him straight. She wasn’t even hurting anyone, not really, not like he had. No one except herself.

So he shoves his hands into his (her) skirt pockets and sits hunched while customers filter in and out.

When Tsunami comes back out again at the request of some muscular, grizzled man, she looks completely different, all blaring makeup to cover the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, the spots on her forehead. She’s pretty, but she’s got too much rouge on. It feels too wrong to be sexy, and that was saying something considering it’s coming from him.

The asshole leers at her ass and slaps it.

Naruto is this close to an explosion when he notices something. The shadow of the man is flickering, wavery. The sort of wavery that happens when you’re faltering in your transformation due to a lack of focus or a slip in control.

(She's panting, her legs bent and spread, knees up on their futon while a Sakura-clone with the figure of Team Eight's sensei circles her clit with the tip of her tongue, and she's shuddering and oh-so-close –

"I can't hold it," she whimpers out into the air. "I can't hold the transformation, not like this --"

Shadows flicker upon the walls, her girl-shaped shadow slipping back into a masculine shape for a second, just a second, as Sakura's fingers – pretend it's Sakura just pretend – slide in slickness, dancing around her cunt, streaking moisture down the insides of her thighs, stroke, stroke –

"Ahn!" Naruto's hips buck off the bed.

"How do you ever expect to become a Hokage if you don't even try?" says Sakura's voice, her lips shiny with the film of his (her) arousal.

Her shadow bursts and the transformation lapses and he's left frustrated and horny on his futon.)

His hand is on his hip-pouch disguised as cute accessory before he can blink. But if he hurls the kunai now, there might be a fight he can’t contain. It’s one thing for Kakashi-sensei to crazy-fight when they’re out in the wilds, but another thing to completely destroy a building and kill civilians.

Shit.

Why had he let Tsunami come out here, again?

No, don’t think about that. What can you do?

Naruto finds herself weaving through the crowd, finds herself tapping the man on the shoulder, finds herself breathing into his ear like some awful parody of the first and only foreplay scene he’d bothered reading with the Kiri spy and the hero. Her entire brain is all fear and mush, her eyes are twitching for hidden weapons, and she’s remembering (reminding herself) that she managed to knock out the Third Hokage with only smoke for clothes.

“Trust me, you don’t want her,” it’s meant to come out as a purr, but it comes out more masculine than his girl-form ordinarily allows, more like a growl. It’s a warning. He grabs the sleeve of the older, grizzled man.

The transformation is solid.

“I’m not interested in children,” says the man, without as much as a glance at her figure. Despite the illusion, she can smell salve and herbs and a slight tang of polish.

“But I’m interested in you,” she whines while her heart is pounding and she’s desperately gesturing at Tsunami to leave. Tsunami seems to get the hint, edging discreetly away. She grabs the older man by his beard and tugs him down, forcing his head in her direction as Tsunami flees on near-silent feet.

Her chin meets the prickles of stubble. She leans in like she’s about to kiss him – he’s resisting, flabbergasted and confused – and then she bites him, sinks her teeth into his jaw.

The transformation dispels.

The face that meets her is one prettier than Sakura-chan, wide doe-eyes and sleek hair and a yukata that’s pink as raw salmon. The girl freezes in the dim light of the bar. It doesn’t take much to guess that this is another henchman – that is, henchwoman – of Zabuza’s.

By some miracle, nobody has noticed them, not yet, not in this light, not through the fumes of smoke and the scent of alcohol everywhere.

“You’ve lost,” says Naruto, pitching her voice to something soft and sweet. “Come back when your master’s recovered and then we can fight. I don’t want these people in here to be hurt by us.”

“Lost?” the girl speaks. Her throat bobs. She has an Adam’s apple.

Naruto’s brain short-circuits. No way is this a male. No way.

And then there are fingers at the side of his neck, like the promise of death and oh god he’s not going to die like this no damn way –

“You’re not very good at seduction, are you?” The voice is soft and sweet, sweeter than hers, lilting. “Though I have to commend your sheer and boneheaded approach for its efficacy.”

Say what?

The fingers curl at the point in her neck just below her pulse point, pressing, pressing just as her opponent leans in.

The kiss blows all her previous self-experimentation out of the water. It’s the second time she’s ever kissed someone that isn’t a clone, and despite herself she’s fucking mewling like some cat, some slut, some whore. The other hand finds a juncture in her spine, digs in, thumb curling in idle circles almost like a massage. She’s dizzy and her head is swimming as his (her?) mouth coaxes hers into pliancy.

Naruto’s hips rock forward. It is a male.

Hunter-nin have an intimate knowledge of the human body and how to manipulate it, she dimly remembers Kakashi-sensei saying. Producing a state of temporary death is not the only thing they can achieve.

Fuck.

He could probably stick his hand between her legs and she wouldn’t stop him. Lust mingles with helplessness and absurdly, all she wants to do right now is run, run and cry and scream and spit at his feet but she can't she fucking can't.

But instead his lashes flutter against her cheek before he drops her unceremoniously. She collapses on legs like limp noodles, lands and nearly jars her tailbone. Desperately, she dispels her own transformation as the henchman disappears –

And he’s back with a fucking hard-on like a damned tent pole.

Kami, did he just –

No, idiot, says a voice that sounds oddly like Sasuke. Something had really screwed up in his head if advice was now being dispensed in the jerk’s voice. Focus. What is important right now?

Tsunami!

+++++

As it turns out, she’s back. He stabs himself in the hand to check it’s not a genjutsu, and pokes her on the shoulder thrice.

“Are you alright after – you know –”

“Thank you,” she says, “But please don’t mention it again. Not in my house.”

That closes the matter.

As he approaches the upstairs area for the guests, that is his team and Kakashi-sensei, it’s almost like nothing ever happened.

Almost.

And when he jerks off in the bathroom, it’s the first time he’s ever felt dirty and wrong.