Chapter 29: Drunk
The ceramic stopper of the sake jar had long been tossed aside. The golden liquid inside had slowly dwindled. Evening light filtered through the paper window, slanting down across Kurenai's cheeks.
The blush spread from the tips of her ears down to her jaw, like the ripest sakura cherries in spring. Even the corners of her eyes were tinted by the haze of alcohol. The pair of eyes that were usually so clear were now veiled in a watery mist, and in that unfocused gaze, only the person in front of her was reflected.
Her fingertips, still carrying warmth and the faint scent of sake, lifted slowly, as if aiming for the forehead protector on Izumo's brow—a symbol she had seen so many times before. But like an arrow that lost its way, her finger instead landed lightly on his firm cheek.
That warm touch traveled from her fingertips, and in Kurenai's drunken haze, it felt like she had discovered a whole new continent. Her eyes sparkled, and her fingers unconsciously traced back and forth over his smooth skin.
Her voice came out soft and sweet, as if dipped in honey.
"Your face is so smooth… smoother than the pebbles in a hot spring bath…"
"Mmm!"
Before Izumo could react, a soft, warm touch suddenly landed on his cheek, carrying with it the sweet scent of sakura sake.
His entire body tensed in an instant. It felt like his blood froze for a heartbeat. He could clearly feel the coolness and softness of her lips, the fleeting contact that passed as quickly as it came—like a fine feather brushing against the edge of his heart.
He instinctively stepped back half a pace.
But Kurenai's body swayed, like a kitten that had lost all its bones, and she toppled straight into his arms.
Izumo's pupils shrank.
Almost on instinct, he reached out to catch her. His palm landed at her slender waist—through the thin layer of her ninja clothes, he could feel the smoothness of her skin and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. That single touch made his heartbeat skip.
"Uh… if I'm not allowed to touch, then it's okay… just give me a kiss instead…" Kurenai murmured restlessly in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest like a spoiled little animal.
The tip of her nose brushed against Izumo's neck. Warm breath mixed with the scent of alcohol touched his skin, sending a subtle tremor through his entire body.
"Kurenai… you're drunk," Izumo said. His voice came out slightly hoarse, without him realizing it.
He lifted a hand to help her stand, but his movements were gentle, as if he were afraid of disturbing the person in his arms.
"Izumo-kun… I think I feel a little dizzy…" Kurenai's voice grew more blurred. Her head rested on his shoulder, swaying lightly, and her body pressed closer into his embrace again.
Her long black hair spilled across his shoulder. The scent of sakura in her hair mixed with the faint aroma of sake, drifting to his nose and forming a dangerously tempting blend.
Izumo slowed his breathing. The pounding of his heart in his chest felt louder and clearer with every beat.
All he could do was let her lean there, lifting a hand to lightly pat her back, like soothing a sleepy kitten.
A faint smile curved at the corner of Kurenai's lips. Her arms unconsciously wrapped around Izumo's waist. Her cheek pressed firmly against his chest, listening to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. The sound was like a lullaby that made her feel safe.
She murmured something.
Her voice was light, like a whisper from within a dream—broken, faint, as if saying "sakura," and then something that sounded like "don't go."
Izumo lowered his head, looking at the sleeping face in his arms.
Her long lashes drooped like butterfly wings, casting faint shadows beneath her eyes. A gentle smile still lingered at the corner of her lips. Even her breathing had become slow and calm.
The night breeze stirred the window curtain, carrying sakura petals from the yard into the room. Pink and white petals drifted down onto their overlapping clothes. The sweet scent in the air seemed to grow even thicker.
He lifted a hand to tidy Kurenai's messy hair. His fingertips lightly brushed against her still-reddened ear—warm and soft, making his own fingertips feel hot in response.
Seeing that Kurenai was truly fast asleep, Izumo carefully carried her to the bed and covered her with a thin blanket.
He stood by the bedside for a moment, watching her in silence.
Then he quietly closed the door and turned to leave, leaving behind the lingering scent of sakura sake in the room—and the sleeping girl.
The three days of rest passed in the blink of an eye, like a gentle dream.
When the light of dawn once again shone over the Hidden Leaf Village, Team Eight quickly returned to the battlefield.
Izumo, now officially the acting captain, led his team back onto the road toward the Land of Grass.
For an entire year back on the battlefield, Izumo's days were filled with endless combat and relentless training.
Dust-choked skies, the stench of blood in the air, the shouts of comrades, and the roars of enemies became the background noise of his daily life.
The pressure of life and death on the battlefield was like a heavy whetstone—but it was also the greatest catalyst.
The proficiency levels on the pale blue panel before his eyes surged at a speed that could be seen with the naked eye.
Every time he gritted his teeth in a counterattack on the brink of death.
Every time he tensed his nerves to dodge at the very edge of his limits.
Every time he threw a punch with unwavering resolve.
All of it pushed his techniques into higher and higher realms.
Basic Taijutsu was the first to touch the boundary.
It happened in a brutal encounter battle.
Izumo was surrounded by three Iwagakure Chūnin among the ruins of a collapsed wall.
The sharp whistle of kunai slicing through the air exploded in his ears, and chunks of stone torn up by Earth Release smashed into his arm, sending waves of pain through him.
He discarded all forms and preset techniques.
There was only emptiness left in his mind.
He relied purely on muscle memory and battlefield instinct.
A fist smashed into an enemy's face.
An elbow drove into a ribcage.
A knee slammed into a lower abdomen.
Even in a critical moment, he used his own forehead to block an incoming elbow strike head-on. The taste of blood spread through his mouth.
When the last Iwagakure ninja's kunai barely missed his side, and at the same instant his palm struck forward with perfect precision, shattering the man's breastbone, the fear in that ninja's eyes hadn't even had time to fade.
Right before Izumo's eyes, the pale blue panel suddenly ignited with a blinding white light.
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