Chapter 5: OH CRAP I FORGOT
Consciousness returned to Naruto in a disorienting wave of silk and strange, clean scent. He blinked awake, the world resolving into a ceiling of dark paneled wood. He was naked, tangled in black sheets that felt impossibly smooth against his skin. The room was dim, lit only by the dying ember of sunset through a slit in heavy curtains.
Memory crashed over him—the desk, the window, the counting, the tear on Kaguya’s cheek. He sat bolt upright, heart hammering.
The other side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool. His own clothes were nowhere in sight. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at his throat. Then he saw his ChakraGear, neatly placed on a side table beside a glass of water. He fumbled for it, the screen blazing to life.
6:32 PM.
The date with Ino. At seven.
“No, no, no, no, NO!” He scrambled out of bed, the plush rug soft under his bare feet. He was in a small, adjacent bedroom off the main office. He yanked the door open, bursting into the dean’s study.
Kaguya stood at her desk, already impeccably dressed in a fresh grey suit, her hair a perfect waterfall down her back. She was sipping from a new cup of tea, her expression one of detached calm. His jeans, shirt, and boxers were folded neatly on the corner of her desk.
“You’re awake,” she stated, not looking up from her tablet. “Your clothes required laundering. They are still damp.”
“Damp? But I—Ino—I’m so late, I gotta go!” He made a move for the clothes, but she held up a single finger, stopping him in his tracks.
“You cannot attend a social engagement in soiled, wrinkled casual wear. It would reflect poorly on the university’s standards.” She set her tablet down and picked up her phone. “Sakura. My residence. Now. Bring the contingency package for the Uzumaki subject. Yes, immediately.”
She ended the call. “My assistant will be here in one minute forty-seven seconds. She lives in the faculty complex. You will be clothed appropriately.”
Naruto stood there, naked, shifting from foot to foot. “Contingency package? Subject?”
“Standard operational protocol for persons of interest,” she said blandly, finally looking at him. A faint, unreadable flicker passed behind her eyes. “Comprehensive biometrics are on file. Including tailoring measurements.”
The door to the office opened without a knock. A young woman with shockingly pink hair tied in a messy bun stepped in, wearing matching silk pajamas patterned with tiny crossbones. She carried a sleek, black garment bag and a shoebox. Her green eyes swept the room, landing on Naruto. She froze, her cheeks instantly blooming a crimson that matched her hair. She stared determinedly at a point six inches to the left of his head.
“You rang, Dean?” she said, her voice impressively steady.
“The package, Sakura. On the chair. You may leave.”
Sakura, moving with robotic precision, laid the garment bag and box on a leather chair and all but fled from the room, closing the door with a soft but definitive click.
Kaguya unzipped the bag. Inside was a folded, heather-grey cashmere sweater, a pair of black, slim-fit trousers made of a soft, technical fabric, and a simple white tee. She tossed them to Naruto, followed by the shoebox. He caught it, recognizing the iconic Jumpman logo on the side. Inside were a pair of Jordan 1s in a subtle, off-white colorway, pristine and obviously expensive.
“How… how do you even know my size?” Naruto asked, pulling on the underwear and trousers. They fit perfectly, hugging his form without constriction. The sweater was soft as a cloud.
“I reviewed your full admissions dossier,” Kaguya said, turning to gaze out the window, giving him a semblance of privacy. “It includes your high school athletic records—or rather, the lack thereof. Your physical education apparel order forms were appended. The shoes are a size 10.5. The trousers are a 32 waist, 30 inseam.” She turned back as he pulled the sweater over his head. “Do not ask why the university needs that data. Just be glad it was accurate.”
Dressed, he felt like an imposter in someone else’s skin—a much richer, more put-together someone. He shoved his old clothes into his backpack. “Thank you, Dean. I… I really have to run.”
“Sakura will drive you,” Kaguya said, her voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Her vehicle is fast. And she knows shortcuts.”
The drive was a silent blur of twilight streets. Sakura, now in a simple hoodie and jeans, piloted a low-slung, electric sports car with a terrifying, silent efficiency. She kept her eyes glued to the road, but Naruto could feel her glances in the dim light of the dashboard. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
He broke the tension. “So, you’re, like, the Dean’s… fixer?”
“I’m her executive assistant,” Sakura corrected, her voice tight. “My duties are varied.”
“Right. And the pajamas? Is that, like, the assistant uniform? ‘Cause if so, sign me up. They looked comfy.”
A faint smile touched her lips, then vanished. “It was my night off. The Dean’s calls take precedence.”
“Sorry,” Naruto said, and he meant it. “And, uh… sorry about before. The whole… you know. Naked guy in the office situation.”
Sakura’s cheeks flushed again. “I have seen the university’s mascot costume. This was less traumatic.” She cleared her throat. “We’re here.”
Naruto looked at the clock on the dash: 6:45 PM. They’d crossed half the city in what should have been forty-five minutes. “How did we get here so fast? We were flying!”
“The Dean has certain… privileges,” Sakura said cryptically, pulling to a smooth stop in front of a modern apartment complex. She reached into the back seat and produced a small bouquet of deep purple roses, wrapped in simple brown paper. “These are for your date. Do not mention me. Or the Dean.”
“Got it. Thanks, Sakura.” He took the roses, stepping out.
“Uzumaki,” she called out, her professional mask slipping for a second. “Good luck. She’s a lucky girl.” Before he could respond, she sped off into the gathering night.
Naruto took a deep breath, smelling the roses. He walked up to the door of apartment 4B and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately.
Ino stood there, backlit by warm, golden light. She wore a dress of deep, rich violet that hugged her athletic frame perfectly—softening her shoulders, cinching at her narrow waist, and flowing over her hips. The neckline was modest but showcased the gentle, full curve of her breasts. Her blonde hair was swept over one shoulder, and her blue eyes were wide, a little anxious, and then instantly shining with delight.
“Naruto! You’re… wow.” Her gaze swept over him, from the perfect sneakers to the cashmere sweater. “You look incredible. This outfit is… it’s perfect. The lines, the color palette…” She was a fashion geek, and her appreciation was genuine and deep.
“Me? Look at you,” he said, his voice full of unfeigned awe. He held out the roses. “These… they made me think of you. The purple. It’s your color. It’s like… it’s bold and kinda mysterious but also really warm, you know?”
He hadn’t planned the words. They just came out. But the effect on Ino was instantaneous. Her breath hitched. A deep blush spread from her neckline up to her cheeks. Her eyes dropped to the roses, then back to his, and for a fraction of a second, the look there was pure, unguarded heat. It was a want that went far beyond a simple date, sparked in under fifteen seconds.
She took the roses, her fingers brushing his. “Thank you,” she said, her voice husky. She stepped back. “Come in.”
Her apartment was transformed. Fairy lights twined around her bookshelves. A small, two-person table was set with real china and gleaming silverware. A single candle burned in the center. Soft jazz played from a hidden speaker. It looked like the most exclusive, intimate bistro in the world.
“Ino… this is… why? Why all this… for me?” Naruto asked, stunned.
She was arranging the roses in a vase on the counter, her back to him. Her shoulders tensed. When she turned, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Because,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “Because when those girls were saying those horrible things about my family’s shop, you were the only one who told them to stop. You didn’t even know me. You just did it.” She wiped a tear away with a defiant swipe. “Because you got a B+ on Professor Senju’s first pop quiz and you looked so genuinely happy about it, like it was this huge victory, and it made me want to try harder too. Because you always say ‘good morning’ to the old security guard, Mister Gato, and you remember his grandkid’s name. Because you have this… this weird, un-killable optimism that makes me feel like maybe things aren’t all just background noise and gossip.” She took a shaky breath. “And because last week, when I was crying in the library over my econ paper, you didn’t ask what was wrong. You just slid a pack of those awful orange-ginger gummies you love over the table and said, ‘Here. These taste like regret, but they help.’ And they did.”
Naruto was speechless. He hadn’t thought any of those things were notable. They were just… things.
Without thinking, he crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her. He just held her. She stiffened for a second, then melted against him, burying her face in his new sweater. He could feel the tension leave her body in a slow sigh. After a long moment, she pulled back, sniffling, but smiling.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Didn’t mean to turn on the waterworks. I’m just… I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” he said, his voice thick.
The oven timer beeped. She laughed, a watery, real sound. “Saved by the bell. Or the roast. I maybe went overboard. There’s enough food for a small battalion.”
They sat down. She brought out dishes: a perfect rosemary-roasted chicken, crispy potatoes, glazed carrots. It was a feast.
“This is amazing, Ino,” Naruto said, taking a bite. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Seriously, you could charge for this.”
“Thanks,” she beamed, watching him eat with clear pleasure. “So, eat up. You must be starving.”
“I am,” he admitted, filling his plate. “Skipped breakfast today. Lots of, uh, running around.”
Her smile faded. “You skipped breakfast? Naruto, that’s not healthy. Your metabolism needs fuel in the morning. You can’t just run on ramen and willpower.”
“I know, I know,” he said, waving a carrot. “It was a crazy day. Dean’s office, you know? Nerves.”
She studied him, her head tilted. “The Dean? What did she want?”
Naruto’s mind went blank. The memory of Kaguya’s mouth, her back arched against the desk, flashed behind his eyes. He took a long drink of water. “Just… onboarding stuff. My academic standing. Boring procedural things.” He changed the subject quickly. “So, your family’s shop… the flower shop, right? Yamanaka Blossoms?”
The conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about her parents, her dream of hybridizing a new orchid, his terrible high school years, his cautious optimism about university. They laughed about Professor Senju’s legendary wrath, bonded over a shared hatred of early morning lectures. The candle burned lower. The food on their plates dwindled.
At one point, reaching for the salt, his hand brushed hers. They both pulled back, then slowly relaxed. The brush became a linger. His fingers traced the back of her hand.
A comfortable silence settled over the table. The jazz record had ended.
Ino looked at him, her blue eyes dark in the candlelight. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, intimate. “When you hugged me earlier… it was nice. You’re really warm.”
“You were upset,” he said, his thumb still making slow circles on her skin.
“I wasn’t just upset,” she admitted, not looking away. “I was… overwhelmed. By you. By all this.” She gestured at the table, the room, him. “It’s a lot of feeling.”
Naruto’s heart was pounding again, but it was a different rhythm than the panic from earlier. This was a slow, heavy drumbeat. “Good feelings, I hope.”
“Very good,” she whispered. She stood up, slowly, and began clearing the plates. He stood to help her. In the small kitchen, they were close again, the space between them charged. She turned from the sink, drying her hands on a towel.
She leaned back against the counter, looking up at him. The neckline of her purple dress seemed lower in the shadowy kitchen light. “You said my dress was my color. That was a really good line.”
“It wasn’t a line,” he said, taking a step closer. “It’s true. You look… you look unbelievable, Ino.”
She bit her lower lip. “This outfit you’re wearing… it’s not your usual style. It’s expensive. It fits you…” her eyes traveled down his body, “…perfectly. It makes you look different. Older. Kind of dangerous.”
He moved into her space, his hands coming to rest on the counter on either side of her, caging her in gently. “I don’t feel dangerous,” he murmured. “I just feel… really lucky to be here.”
“Yeah?” Her breath hitched as he leaned in closer. Her perfume, something like night-blooming jasmine, enveloped him. “What does luck feel like right now?”
“It feels,” he said, his lips now hovering a breath from hers, his gaze dropping to her mouth, “like I really, really want to kiss you.”
“Then stop talking about it,” she breathed, and closed the final distance herself.
Her lips were soft, yielding, then suddenly demanding. Naruto’s hands, which had been braced against the counter, moved to her waist, pulling her firmly against him. She made a small, pleased sound into his mouth, her fingers tangling in the cashmere at his shoulders.
He walked her backward, his mouth never leaving hers, until the backs of her knees hit the plush arm of the sofa. They tumbled down together in a tangle of limbs, the cushions sighing beneath them. The soft jazz had long since ended, leaving only the sound of their breathing and the rustle of fabric.
Ino’s hands were everywhere, mapping the planes of his back through the sweater, then sliding underneath it to feel his skin. He kissed along her jaw, down the column of her throat, tasting salt and jasmine. She arched against him, a gasp escaping her as he found the sensitive spot just below her ear.
Then her own mouth went to his ear. Her teeth grazed the lobe, a playful nip that made him shiver. Her tongue, shockingly warm and wet, traced the whorl of his ear before delving inside.
Naruto jolted as if electrocuted. A ragged, involuntary groan tore from his throat, his hips bucking against hers. The intense wave of sensation was exactly like before in the dean’s office, a debilitating direct line to his nerves.
Ino pulled back just enough to see his face. Her blue eyes were dark with triumph and delight. “Whoa,” she whispered, her breath hot against the damp skin of his ear. “That’s a thing, huh? A really, really good thing.”
“Shut up,” he managed, his voice strangled, but he was smiling.
“Make me,” she teased, flicking her tongue against the spot again.
He did. He rolled, pinning her beneath him on the wide cushions, capturing her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss that silenced her giggles. His hand slid from her waist, down over the curve of her hip, and under the hem of her violet dress. He traced the incredible softness of her inner thigh, higher and higher, until his fingers met only damp heat and bare skin.
He froze, breaking the kiss. He looked down at her, his expression one of pure, stunned wonder. His fingers confirmed it again. Nothing.
“Ino,” he breathed.
Her cheeks flushed a deep rose, but she held his gaze, a challenge sparking in her eyes. “What?”
“You’re not… you don’t have any…”
“Any what?” she said, all false innocence.
“You know what!” His fingers brushed through her neatly trimmed curls, a light, teasing touch that made her breath hitch. “Did you… plan this?”
“No,” she said, too quickly. She tried to squirm, but he held her firm. “It’s just… comfortable. It’s a thing. A fashion thing.”
“Liar.” He lowered his head, kissing her neck as his middle finger slid slowly inside her. She was already slick and tight, her body clenching around him instantly. She cried out, her back arching off the couch. He kept a slow, maddening rhythm. “Tell me.”
“It’s just—ah!—practical,” she insisted, her hips beginning to match his movement.
He added a second finger, curling them just so. Her words dissolved into a choked moan. Her fists clutched at the back of his sweater.
“Ino.” His voice was low, commanding in a way he didn’t recognize in himself. “Did you hope?”
She broke, the truth pouring out between gasps. “Yes! Okay, yes! I thought… maybe if it went well… I wanted… I wanted to be ready. For you. Just in case.” The admission seemed to release her. Her whole body softened, opened. “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” He kissed her, deeply, swallowing her next gasp. “I’m amazed.”
He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth, tasting her. Her eyes watched him, huge and hungry. Then she pushed at his shoulders, guiding him onto his back. She knelt on the floor before the couch, her hands on his thighs. She made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing him.
Her eyes widened slightly, just as Kaguya’s had, but there was no shock in Ino’s, only a sharp, fascinated intake of breath. “Well,” she murmured, a smile playing on her lips. “The outfit wasn’t the only surprise.”
Then she leaned forward, and her tongue, incredibly long and agile, laid a flat, wet stripe from his base to his tip. Naruto’s head slammed back against the armrest. His moan was loud, unguarded, echoing in the quiet apartment.
The sound seemed to ignite her. A needy whine escaped her own throat. She took him into her mouth, deep, her tongue swirling as she moved. One of her hands crept between her own legs, and he could hear the wet sounds of her fingers working in tandem with her mouth. Her eyes stayed locked on his, glazed with pleasure.
The sight, the sounds, the incredible sensation—it was too much. Pressure built, urgent and unmistakable. “Ino, I’m close…”
She increased her pace, her head bobbing fiercely. She pulled off for a second, panting. “Do it. In my mouth. I want it.”
The permission shattered him. With a final, broken cry, he came, pulses of heat pouring down her throat. She took it all, swallowing deliberately, before pulling off with a soft pop. She kept her mouth open, letting him see, then turned and spat the remainder into the empty water glass on the coffee table. She spat again, mixing it with her own saliva, swishing it gently.
“What are you doing?” Naruto asked, his body still thrumming.
“A secret,” she said, her voice hoarse. She set the glass aside carefully. “For later. You’ll see.”
Before he could process it, she was climbing onto the couch, straddling him. She hooked her fingers in the sides of her dress, hiking the violet fabric up around her waist. Holding him steady, she sank down in one smooth, breathtaking slide, taking him fully inside.
Her head fell back, a long, low moan vibrating in her chest. “Oh… god. Naruto.” She began to move, a slow, rolling grind of her hips. “It’s so… you fill me up. Completely. I can feel you… everywhere.” She opened her eyes, looking down at him. “How… how does it feel for you? Tell me.”
His hands gripped her hips, guiding her rhythm. “You’re so tight and so wet and it’s like you’re hugging me, squeezing me, and I can see you… I can see where I’m inside you…” The filthiness of his own words surprised him, but they made her cry out, her internal muscles fluttering around him.
She rode him like that, building a steady, climbing rhythm, her breaths coming in sharp pants. After a few minutes, she slowed. “Other side,” she whispered, climbing off. She turned, presenting herself to him on her hands and knees on the cushions, the violet dress piled at her waist. She reached for the water glass.
Naruto watched, stunned, as she dipped her fingers into the cloudy mixture. She slicked his length with it, the cool liquid a shocking contrast. Then she reached back, spreading herself, and used the rest to coat her other entrance.
“I want you here,” she said, looking back at him. Her expression was a mix of shyness and brazen desire. “I’ve never. I want my first to be you. I want it deep. And fast. All at once.” She said it like a sweet, dirty promise.
“Ino, are you sure? That’s…”
“I’m sure.” She pushed back against him, the head of his cock nudging against a new, tighter ring of muscle. “Please. Don’t make me beg. Well, okay, I’m begging.” She wiggled her hips, a teasing, irresistible motion.
A surge of something raw—protectiveness mixed with a fierce, sudden possessiveness—flooded him. He gripped her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin. He pushed, steadily, not stopping as her body resisted, then yielded, enveloping him in an impossibly tight, searing heat.
Ino screamed. It was a raw, shattered sound of pleasure-pain. Her back arched, her mouth fell open, and her tongue lolled out as her eyes lost all focus. She was utterly beyond control. “YES! Like that! It’s so deep! Don’t stop, don’t stop, I love it, I love it!”
He gave her exactly what she asked for, setting a hard, fast, punishing rhythm that shook the couch and stole the breath from both of them. The slide became easier, her body accepting him, and her screams melted into continuous, sobbing moans of ecstasy.
Naruto felt the familiar tightening in his core, the climb too swift to halt. “I’m gonna cum!”
“Here!” she sobbed, pushing back onto him frantically. “Do it here!”
He plunged deep one final time and let go, pulsing inside her. The intensity ripped a final, sharp cry from her throat.
Before the waves even fully receded, she was gasping instructions. “Now… the other… I want you to finish there, too…”
Dazed, he pulled out, a mixture of their releases slicking him. She collapsed onto her side, pulling him with her, guiding him back into her wet warmth. A few ragged thrusts were all it took, the oversensitivity a sharp, bright agony that tipped him over another edge. He spilled into her a second time with a choked groan, collapsing atop her.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their shattered breathing and the faint city hum through the windows.
Then, a heavy, deliberate knock sounded on the apartment door.
Three solid blows that shook the frame in its hinges.
A voice, low, seething, and unmistakably Tsunade’s, cut through the wood. “Uzumaki. I know you’re in there. I can smell the cheap candle, the roasted chicken, and your sweating panic from the hallway. My patience is spent. Open this door.”
Ino’s body went rigid beneath him. Her wide, shocked eyes found his in the dim light.
How?