"Kiss me," she says, breaking a steady silence.
"What?" he asks, sure that he has heard her wrong.
"Kiss me," and he sees that he has not heard her wrong, that she has stopped channeling chakra to her fists to try to keep up the spar. He halts the movements of his hands, stop the jutsu, and stares.
"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" she asks of him bluntly. "Kiss me," followed by a quieter "please."
"Why?" he asks, almost stunned into stillness and silence.
"Because you've wanted to do it for so long" –and here she looks down at the ground, broken into clumps of sod by the force of one of her missed punches- "and I've wanted you to kiss me for so long too and I'm getting sick of circling."
"Oh," and then "why don't you kiss me?" She shrugs, and he is fully expecting an I don't know, but then he feels lips on his, feels her hand on his, smells fresh mint and something that he thinks is cinnamon and lavender. She's not that sweaty, nor is he, they've only been sparring for a little bit.
They break and she smiles.
"Kiss me," he says again, grinning as she obliges.