I'm on a roll!

Blood in the Water

They've talked about the wedding duel –well, pre-wedding duel since there will be an official ceremony a few days later when Uzume-ba is back on her feet– several times, because after hearing his gloriously muscled beloved explain it the first time Shisui realised that actually, various important people need to know what to expect so there are no tragic misunderstandings. Thus Mikoto knows what's going on, Wolf-taicho knows what's going on –and did that judgey mask-tilt again which was uncalled for– and Inoichi-san knows what's going on, so his magnificent bride-to-be doesn't get her preliminary citizenship revoked over a cultural misunderstanding.

That would be awkward and upsetting and would delay the wedding. Shisui feels the wedding's been delayed long enough already, frankly.

Of course, telling people what's going to happen means the audience for the imminent fight isn't just Uchiha, but Shisui can deal with that. Chōza-san has even very kindly lent Aozame an Akimichi chestplate in the old traditional style with hanging segmented plates, since the only shinobi in the village who come near her magnificent height are Akimichi and those hinged plates shield the curve of her abdomen better than any flak jacket would.

Chōza-san being so kind means Shisui doesn't mind him being here, even though that means Inoichi-san and Shikaku-san are here too. Not that he has anything specific against the jōnin commander… except that he is the jōnin commander, and therefore neck-deep in all the issues the Uchiha have been having with the village over the past eight years.

Then again, the man was impeccably polite to Mikoto and mostly looks tired, so he's evidently been very involved in digging up all the eyesockets Danzō's stuck his fingers into over the years.

Danzō's the Sandaime's age. Shisui wouldn't want to be responsible for unearthing the man's entire career, looking for the point when he went quietly off his head and started de-eyeballing people and getting up to who-knows-what-else.

By Shikaku-san's slightly pained and apologetic expression as he thanks Mikoto for her hospitality, he does know what else and wishes he didn't.

Wolf-taicho is sitting in the tree above Shisui, radiating vaguely judgemental amusement; Shisui is pointedly ignoring him. Yes, he is wearing fancy formalwear rather than one of his usual casual shirts; no, he's not armed. He is the pretty princess in this scenario and he intends to enjoy that, thank-you Wolf-taicho.

His glorious azure goddess is a vision in borrowed armour, doing warm-up stretches on the opposite side of this generously-proportioned practice field, and however much faith Shisui has in Uzume-ba's swordsmanship he frankly is very much looking forward to getting carried off when she loses.

She is going to lose, he knows; anybody who can punt Danzō through two trees while ripping half a Root platoon limb from limb can make suitably short work of his beloved auntie. It probably won't be that short though, as his wonderfully understanding beloved has promised not to inflict any fatal injuries and that is a significant handicap.

At least that will go both ways; Uzume-ba doesn't actually want to inflict any major injuries either.

Wolf is looking forward to this show; he however did not bring popcorn, because he is a professional. He doesn't actually doesn't like popcorn, so wouldn't bring it anyway.

He hadn't realised Crow was a Hyuuga, but there the man is in civvies, talking quietly to Robin-chan's sensei who is going to fight the pregnant Hoshigaki over Robin-chan's hand in marriage.

It's definitely going to be a fun show, even if the paperwork names the massive blue-skinned kunoichi in question as a chunnin; Kiri being what it is, not rising to jōnin rank could easily be strategic.

Most of Kiri's successful defectors are either genin –not worth bothering with– or jōnin –too strong to pursue. They are also all men, which he'd never really considered worth noticing before but is an interesting point, given that his cute kohai's well-muscled bride-to-be was able to basically hand in her forehead protector and receive an honourable discharge upon announcing her pregnancy.

How many Kiri kunoichi have done as she has, quietly leaving the country while pregnant under the guise of 'retiring'?

Probably more than just a few.

Then the two combatants move into the middle of the training field and Wolf settles in to spectate.

Shisui is watching with his sharingan –he doesn't want to miss anything! And wants this memory to keep forever– which turns out to be a good thing because fuck Aozame's fast.

You don't expect someone that big to be fast, and yes he watched her trash a Root platoon but she'd not been fighting like this then. Then she'd been loud and messy and hands-on brutal.

This though? This is poetry. Devastatingly fast poetry, edged steel and coiling chakra punctuated with fists and feet, bullying Uzuma-ba across the field through sheer momentum and force of presence.

She's got enough chakra to give Konoha's best pause, despite wielding it like a blunt instrument. No, that's not doing her justice; his fleet-footed sea goddess wields raw chakra like it's water, flowing and pressing and eroding, buffeting and tugging and swirling around her so that Uzume-ba doesn't dare press inside the odachi's range.

Then abruptly the air is full of actual water and Shisui has a split second of having his visual field full of gloriously triumphant fiancée –and then he is thrown over her shoulder as she bolts.

For the river –into the river– and then water and chakra coil around them, launching them downstream at dizzying speed as her mouth covers his, filling his lungs with new air.

Shisui kisses back, soaked through and desperately turned on by the barely-leashed power cradling him, by the thunder of her heart and the victorious heat in her eyes.

She chuckles against his mouth, pressing his body firmly against her armoured chest with firm, gentle hands. "Soon," she promises, meeting his eyes with a wicked grin before turning her attention back to the current.

Soon. Soon his glorious sea-goddess will decide she's succeeded in putting enough distance between herself and potential pursuit, get them both out of the river, pin him down and ravish him.

His blood in pounding in his ears –and his groin– he's trembling with eagerness and he can't think of anything except strong blue hands easily enveloping his upper arms, soft smiles full of pointed teeth and last night's hot, teasing promise to thoroughly test his stamina after the fight.

The fight's over; to the victor go the spoils.

Gasping for breath as they surface, Shisui blinks at the riverside hotel clearly in view just down the bank.

Aozame sets him on his feet and grabs his hand, tugging gently. "C'mon, I booked a room."

"You got us a hotel room?"

She grins back at him. "What, you thought I was going to put up with mud and camping when we could have silk sheets and room service?" The grin widens. "Not a chance, Pretty-boy; I want a nice solid bed-frame to tie you to while I celebrate my victory."

That mental image is too much; Shisui almost trips over his own feet rushing towards the front entrance, his desperately attractive fiancée easily keeping pace with him and radiating smugly predatory intent.

She's going to wreck him. It's going to be amazing.