Forest of Death.
A name earned. Not given.
Anko always smiled when they sent her here. Like an old lover calling her back. The trees whispered secrets in her ear, and the wind tasted like blood and venom.
Tonight, she wasn't alone.
Naruto followed three paces behind, silent as shadow, his chakra a dull thrum—restrained, but coiled.
Anko didn't look at him.
She felt him.
That was enough.
The mission was simple: a joint hunt for a rogue sensor-nin who'd been killing scouts near the border. The higher-ups paired them without warning. Tsunade's orders.
Anko hadn't protested.
She wanted to see it for herself.
The boy who had stopped being a boy.The boy who no longer smiled.The one the girls now whispered about when they thought no one was listening.
She'd felt his presence before. Watched him train. Watched him break limits.And watched how women—powerful women—stared at him like he wasn't real.
Anko wasn't easily impressed. She didn't trust. Not men. Not leaders. Not touch.
But curiosity?Curiosity burned.
"Heard you've been busy," she said after an hour of silence.
Naruto didn't respond.
She smiled.
"Too good to talk to a jōnin now, brat?"
Still silence.
She turned. He met her eyes.
Calm. Cold. Measured.
Not disrespectful.Not dismissive.Just… unmoved.
"You're not here to flirt with me, Anko."
She smirked. "What makes you think I ever would?"
"I don't. That's why I came."
Now that made her pause.
"…Cute."
They moved deeper into the trees.
Night pressed down. The forest breathed around them.
Anko caught a flicker of movement—fast. Wrong.
"Left," Naruto said calmly.
She dove. So did he.
A kunai sailed through where her head had been.
They landed low—back to back.
The enemy was close. One chakra signature. Hidden. Suppressed.
Then—poison mist.
Too late.
It bloomed around them like fog laced with rot.
Anko held her breath, cursed, reached for a scroll.
Naruto moved faster.
In a flash, his arm wrapped around her waist.His chakra flooded outward, forming a dense barrier—burning the mist away.
Anko felt it ripple through her—his chakra, thick and heavy, thrumming through her skin.
Too close.
Too deep.
Too much.
The enemy fled, terrified. But Anko barely noticed.
Naruto held her for two seconds too long.
And her body responded with heat.
She shoved him back.
"Warn me next time before you drown me in chakra," she snapped.
He tilted his head.
"I didn't hear a complaint."
Anko's breath hitched. Just slightly.
And she hated that he saw it.
They set up camp.
Silent again.
But the silence wasn't emptiness.
It was pressure.
Anko sat by the fire, eating dried meat. Naruto stood nearby, cleaning his blades. Shirtless. Silent. A jagged scar down his left side caught the firelight.
She didn't ask where it came from.
But her eyes lingered.
He noticed.
She looked away.
He didn't.
"You ever wonder why I never took a student?" she asked.
Naruto didn't answer.
"Because I hate the idea of someone needing me. Depending on me. Wanting something from me."
Naruto set the blade down.
"But you watch everyone," he said. "Even when they think you don't."
She turned to him.
"You watching me now?"
He nodded.
"Why?"
"Because you don't want to be touched," he said. "But you ache for it anyway."
That stopped her.
That shattered her.
"…Say that again," she whispered.
"You ache," he repeated. "But not for kindness. Not for softness. You want to be handled."
She stood.
Walked toward him.
Step by step.
"You think you know me?"
"I know what you try to hide."
They were face to face now.
Anko's breath was sharp. Her heart thundered.
"You think I'm gonna break like the others?" she asked.
"I don't want you to break," Naruto said. "I want you to let go."
"Of what?"
"Of control."
She kissed him.
It wasn't slow.It wasn't sweet.
It was desperate.
And Naruto didn't resist.
His hands gripped her hips.Her nails tore at his shoulders.Their mouths crashed like war.
She bit his lip. He groaned.She pushed him against a tree. He didn't move—he let her.
But when she tried to take control…
He spun her.
Pinned her to the bark.
Mouth at her neck. Voice low.
"You don't get to be on top here."
Her legs trembled.
"I'm not yours," she hissed.
"Not yet," he whispered.
He kissed her throat—slow, consuming.
And she melted.
They didn't have sex that night.
But they didn't sleep apart either.
She lay across from him.
Bare skin against bare chest.
Her head on his shoulder.
And for the first time in years…
Anko didn't flinch when she closed her eyes.
Because for one night…
The snake coiled around a flame warm enough to keep the nightmares away.