Work Header

petals for armor

Work Text:

Being married off is Hinata's greatest shame. She had been disowned privately, summarily looked over as a potential clan head. Hanabi, at the tender age of fifteen was twice the fighter Hinata was, twice as ruthless, twice as vicious. At twenty-one, Hinata was of marriageable age and therefore, more of an expense on the family than she was worth. 

There had been no ceremony. Her mother and father had signed the contract with the Uzumaki without even warning her about it first. It was Neji who brought her the news, only the night before she was to be sent away to live with her betrothed's family. 

"Take Uzo," Neji said, pressing his prized messenger hawk, locked in its cage into Hinata's grasp. "He'll bring your letters directly to me. If anything happens, tell me. I'll come get you, contract be damned." 

Hinata had only looked down at the hawk, still wearing its blinders in the little cage. Neji held her by the shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"Write to me, cousin," he said. "The Branch family goes with you." 

That had been enough to bring tears to her eyes. Hiashi choosing Hanabi as his heir had made Hinata a member of the Branch family in all but name. Still, many of them had broken away from the Main family, especially those not born with a Byakugan and not subjected to the Caged Bird Seal.

Neji, the golden son of the Branch family kept in contact with those the Main had discarded. They lived further down the mountains, far away from the peak and the watchful eye of the moon god Tsukuyomi. That was their punishment for being born without the All Seeing White Eye.

"Say the word," Neji presses, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "I can get you out of here tonight."

Hinata shakes her head, her hands trembling but her voice steady. 

"I will not further dishonor my father and mother by running away."

Neji's eyes soften. The death of his own father had radicalized him. There were even rumors of an Uchiha boy down the mountain that he fancied. Hinata had no doubt that if Neji had taken an Uchiha lover, he could take her away from the Hyuuga encampment and help her start a new life elsewhere, down in the valleys of Fire Country. 

But Hinata had failed her family enough. She had been too weak. Too indecisive. Too soft. Too kind. 

"I will write to you," she says, placing Uzo down in his cage and reaching forward to draw Neji into a hug. They hadn't been close as children, but when his father, Hinata's uncle had died, Hinata had wept. Seeing her cry had changed something inside of Neji, had turned his hatred for the Main family away from her, who he only saw as another one of their victims. 

"Maybe he'll be kind," she adds as she pulls back from the embrace. 

Neji doesn't look convinced, but he presses his forehead against hers in a Hyuuga kiss. With his hand on the back of her head like this, Hinata almost feels safe. 

"Say the word," he insists. "Say the word, and I'll find you."

Uzushio is hotter than Hinata had expected. Living in the mountains made her accustomed to colder climates. Her furs, carefully packed away, would probably be useless here. 

The climate draws sweat to her brow, and she dabs it away with a handkerchief. The Uzushio shinobi that had come for her had been a team of three. The leader of them was a softspoken man called Nagato, who looked at Hinata with kind (and strange purple ringed) eyes and sat with her in the carriage as the Uzushio horses made their way down the mountain. 

"I take it you've never traveled this far from home?"

Hinata, veiled as Hyuuga custom dictated, had shaken her head demurely. 

"Well, this will be a big change then. An adventure. If you look at it that way, it's not even half as scary."

"Do I seem scared to you, Nagato-san?"

"Not scared," he amended, "but in need of reassurance perhaps."

Embarrassed that her discomfort had been noticed, a blush had risen to Hinata's cheeks. 

"The Uzumaki are kind people," Nagato goes on. "Just, and very strong. They will be kind to you." 

"You sound so sure."

There had been very few sure things in Hinata's life. Her place in the Hyuuga's pecking order had always been up in the air. She was too timid as a child. She had trained just as hard and well as Hanabi, but lacked the instinct required to lead the clan. Hinata didn't have the stomach for placing Cursed Seals on the Branch family. It had been her greatest shame, and the final nail in her so-called coffin, now apparently a carriage that would take her to her new life on the islands. 

Nagato smiles at her, and though his long, soft red hair hangs in his face, Hinata can tell there is nothing but honesty in his eyes. He has no reason to lie to her. 

"I should hope so. I am one of them after all."

Hinata's eyes widened. An apology was at the tip of her tongue just as Nagato raised his hands to ease her concern. 

"My aunt is the clan head Ashina-sama's younger sister. No need to stand on ceremony with me. You already outrank me and we haven't even gotten to the island yet." 

"Outrank you?" 

Nagato's brows furrowed, his warm expression melting into something a touch more concerned. 

"Of course," he replies. "You're to be married to the clan heir. Though you'll be the second wife, it's still a high honor to wed the next Prince of the island."

Hinata's face burned. So that was her shame, was it? To be the discarded Hyuuga daughter, thrown away across an ocean, an insult to the incoming Prince of Uzushio. Not good enough to be anyone's first wife, though polygamy was foreign to her. She imagined being the second would be akin to being a bedfellow, used for sex and for dressing up when the time came. That was what her parents had done to her. That was what they thought of her. 

Hinata thought of Uzo in his cage, of the letter she would write to Neji as soon as she got to Uzushio. She wished she had run when she still had the chance.

The jolt of using a transportation seal to travel is not lost on Hinata. Her breakfast (thin rice porridge and half an orange was all she could keep down) roils in her stomach as the smell of ozone fills her nose and electrifies her eyes. Then, there's only the smell of ocean air, and the sound of wind making music through chimes. 

In Uzushio, the carriage is met with a celebration. 

There are people lining the streets, throwing flowers and rice and slapping pieces of paper on the carriage. The noise shocks Hinata at first, but Nagato places a calming hand on her arm. 

"They're placing good luck charms," he says. "They were told your Hyuuga traditions don't allow them to see you until your betrothed has, so the people decided to do this instead." 

Hinata nods, oddly comforted by Nagato's touch. There was very little contact between the Hyuuga. Hinata only ever touched Hanabi when she held her sister as an infant, then in spars as they got older. Her father had offered no physical affection, and her mother had died of an infection shortly after giving birth to Hiashi's heir. 

Neji had been her comfort, holding her hand, rubbing healing salve into open palmed bruises Hanabi and their instructors left on Hinata's back where she couldn't reach. 

Nagato's hand is a warm, comforting presence. She's almost sorry when he takes his hand back to himself to open the carriage door once they arrive at their destination. 

Hinata sees the Uzumaki clan compound from the inside. It sprawls over vibrant green grass, the homes made of elegant black and red wood like the clan spiral on Nagato's shoulder. 

"I'll guide you to your quarters, Hyuuga-sama."

"Am I not an Uzumaki?" 

Nagato's eyes soften. 

"At the behest of the prince, we are to call you by your given name until you choose to take the name Uzumaki."

Hinata's mind stalls. 

"I can choose not to take the name?" 

Nagato blinks, like he's the one confused. 

"Of course," he replies. "Is it different in the mountains?" 

Hinata nods, just a light bob of her head. 

"Huh," he says. "I guess we have a lot to learn about one another then." 

She says nothing as he guides her to a row of smaller but clearly well kept homes. 

"These are all for the loving-wives and loving-husbands that the clan head and heir take. Just beyond them are homes for the cousins like me. I'm just a few doors down, so if you ever need anything, even a cup of sugar, please come over and ask. Yahiko and Konan would both love to meet you."

"Are Yahiko and Konan your -- partners?"

Nagato nods, his own cheeks reddening some. 

"Yahiko and I were wed first, then Konan wed Yahiko. Because my mother is Ashina-sama's sister, they were able to come and live in our home on the compound." 

"You all get along well?" she hedges. 

"Absolutely," he replies. "We've known each other since we were children, but I asked Yahiko before he asked Konan. It all kind of fell into place. We're very lucky." 

"I think so," Hinata says, mind absolutely boggled. 

Nagato leads her up a small set of stairs to an immaculately lacquered home. He produces a key from his pocket that he uses to unlock the door before handing the key to Hinata. 

"This is your home now. Only you and the Prince will be able to unlock the wards." 

Nagato waves a hand over the threshold, and Hinata steps through. It's like a wave of water comes crashing over her head. She can feel in her body that many people have lived in this home before. She's no sensor, but her Byakugan activates on its own, and she can see different slivers of chakra almost ingrained in the wooden floors and in the walls. They coalesce and focus at a piece of paper taped just inside the front door. 

The kanji is in a script that must be exclusive to Uzushio because Hinata can't make sense of it. Still, something about the way it thrums makes her lift her fingers, and run them over the ink. 

The seal laps up her chakra like a kitten at milk, and Hinata can see the blue life energy surging to meet the seal. When it does, the wave that hit her subsides until it's a gentle lapping at her ankles. Nagato smiles. 

"They've welcomed you home!"

Hinata nods, and the waves lapping at her ankles are warm and soft. She can almost hear laughter in the back of her mind, a repeated chorus of 'okaeri' and 'okaerinasai' buffeting against her ears. 

"Your things will arrive shortly. The Prince is away on business in Fire Country, but should be back this evening. Your dinner will be brought to you. If you need anything at all, please knock on my door."

He points out his home again, and it's really only a stone's throw away. 

"Before I forget," he says, tapping his pockets. "We got you a welcoming gift." 

He pulls out a small scroll, then unrolls it on the ground. He bites his thumb and spreads it down the unfamiliar kanji on the paper. Smoke erupts from it, and so does a bouquet of white paper lilies and a quilt that looks handmade. The paper lilies give off a scent like the real thing, and the quilt is soft to the touch. The gifts are a surprise. Hinata hadn't expected anything, really. 

"You'll get the good stuff from Ashina-sama and the other clanheads tomorrow after the Prince has seen you. But Konan wanted to give you some flowers that wouldn't die, and Yahiko learned how to quilt from my mother and hasn't stopped since."

Hinata takes the gifts in her arms, and isn't remotely surprised when the tears sprig at her eyes. 

"Thank you, Nagato-san," she says, inclining her head. "Your kindness -- it means the world to me." 

"Don't bow to me, cousin," Nagato chides. When Hinata lifts her gaze, Nagato's purple eyes are set on her with a knowing far beyond his years. "You're in a strange land with strange people. My kindness is the least you deserve. I'll tell Yahiko and Konan you like their gifts. I'm sure they'll be excited to hear you do."

With that and another promise to come running if she needs so much as an extra toothbrush, Nagato takes his leave of her, and Hinata is alone. 

She explores the small home, discovers two bedrooms, the toilet, and a small pool of water that must lead to the ocean, the way it laps at the stones around it. She takes that as a bathing pool, as there's a shelf with a number of bottles and soaps beside it. There's a kitchen and a sitting area, and the closets are full of towels and blankets and pillows. 

A knock at the door tells her that her trunks have arrived, and a note on top of them states that Uzo has been taken to the aviary to stretch his wings and have his own meal. Using chakra to augment her strength, Hinata brings her trunks inside. She chooses the smaller of the two rooms to settle into. She pulls a folded futon from the closet once her clothes are tucked away, and lays the quilt that Yahiko had made her down on top of it. 

She sees it then, in the top right hand corner and bottom left. A patch with the Hyuuga family crest, yellow flame on red field, but the red field is Uzushio's spiral, just like the one she'd seen on Nagato's sleeve. Their combined family insignia. Hinata runs her fingers over it, enamored by the fine stitching. 

She had never been given such gifts before, much less by total strangers.

Her dinner comes several hours later; a plate of beef curry and rice with roasted vegetables and a small bowl of zenzai sweet and cold enough to cut the spiciness of the curry. 

Belly full, Hinata rummages through her things for paper, ink, an inkwell and brush to write to Neji. She only gets through the first couple of characters when the smell of Konan's paper lilies fills her nose and tugs at her eyelids. 

She manages to tell him about Nagato's kind and strange eyes, her status as a loving-wife, and her new home before the distant sound of wind chimes and ocean waves coaxes her to sleep. 

Hinata wakes when the window opens. Standing there, bathed in shadow is a woman with her back turned. 

Hinata's veil had fallen off sometime during her sleep. She reaches for it, but the woman turns her head over her shoulder and lifts one fine red eyebrow at her. 

"No need for that," she says. "I've already seen you. And what a sight you are."

The woman is dressed in heavy plated armor, and she's barefoot. Her hair is tied up in two severe looking buns on either side of her head, and from them dangle strips of paper with more indecipherable kanji. 

"Will you help me undress?" 

Hinata blinks, dumbfounded. The woman only lifts an eyebrow. When Hinata doesn't move, her red brow knits together. 

"You don't know me."

"I do not," she says. "I was told to wait for the Prince."

The woman smiles at her, then drops to a knee. 

"Prince is a title here on the islands," she says, and reaches out a hand to gently lift Hinata's chin. Light from the moon outside flickers over her face. She can feel the other woman's breath from this distance. "The one you're waiting for is me."

Hinata blinks. A woman. Her parents married her off to a woman. 

Shame slaps her in the face. It makes her jerk out of the prince's gentle grasp and cast her eyes to the ground. So that was their plan. That was what they wanted this whole time. For Hinata's Hyuuga blood, for her deficiencies to be culled from the bloodline. She'd mother no children with a wife. She was to be a plaything for a woman-prince. That was what her parents thought of her. 

Shame turns to rage. Hinata bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to bleed. 

"Not as soft as you look," the woman surmises, a smile in her voice. "You were expecting a man to come in and ravage you. Something terrible to send with your hawk back to the mountains, to beg for rescue, hm?" 

The taste of hot copper spills into Hinata's mouth. 

"You're angry," the prince says. When she reaches out a second time to guide Hinata's chin, she resists. Then she remembers where she is, that though she is among kind people, she is not among friends. "But so quick to lose your bite. What's wrong, little lion?" 

Hinata isn't sure if she's being teased or not. The prince has slate grey eyes and an expression that's hard to read. Her hair is the same sharp, vibrant red as Nagato's, proving their relation. 

"Your armor," Hinata says instead. "I'll help you with it."

She rises, carefully moving the quilt off of her. The prince rises as well, watching Hinata with a pure, still look on her face. 

"You've done this before?" she asks, allowing the change in topic. 

"My mother taught me," Hinata replies. "There are wars in Fire Country. She said one day I might need to dress myself or my husband for battle." 

The woman nods. Hinata finds the clasps, the careful tight knots that keep the dark green armor in place. When she turns to take it from the room, the prince's hand brushes against the inside of her wrist. 

"Leave it," she says. "I have to leave again in the morning. I only came back to see you." 

Hinata nods, but suddenly feels as though she's under scrutiny. She deposits the armor, piece by piece on top of her trunk so it isn't on the floor. There are notches, like the prince had taken several hits in combat, but none enough to harm her. 

She's wearing a simple black turtleneck and tight trousers beneath the armor. The prince sighs and rolls her neck, eliciting a loud crack. 

"Are you sore?" 

The question seems to surprise them both. The prince gives her an assessing look, but nods. 

"My people use fuinjutsu in battle," she says. "But I also fight with a yari. Everything aches after battle, but my hands are worse for wear today." 

With a boldness she hopes not to regret later, Hinata takes a deep breath and activates her Byakugan. The tenketsu overlaid the pressure point systems of the body. Without using chakra augmented strikes, Hinata and other Hyuuga could release tension in the body. 

When she looks at the prince though, she's nearly blinded. Her chakra is the same vibrant green as the grass outside, and there is such a magnificent well of it, all coiled prim and proper on top of itself. There are places where combat has blocked the flow of energy through the prince's body, causing soreness. Hinata blinks away her Byakugan and gestures for the prince to sit on the futon. 

"I didn't imagine you a masseuse when I saw your portrait," she says, crossing her legs. Hinata drops to her knees in front of the prince and gently takes one hand in hers, and begins working out the knots under her skin. 

Hinata doesn't reply, but keeps to the task. The prince seems content to let her do it, tensing and hissing as Hinata rubs at a persistent ball of pressure between her thumb and forefinger. 

"They told you nothing of me, I take it," the prince continues. Hinata doesn't lift her gaze to meet the prince's steel grey eyes. "Not even my name. Maybe that's for the better. We'll get to know each other without your family clouding your judgment."

Hinata bites her lip and keeps quiet. 

"My name is Uzumaki Mito," the prince says. "I am Uzumaki Ashina and Tatsumaki Marishi's firstborn. The man I took to husband in Fire Country called for my aid in the war he is fighting there, which is why I was not present for the contracting of our marriage. I apologize for being so late to meet you." 

She tries not to let the fact that Mito has a husband in Fire Country sting. Of course. How could she not have known? Nagato had called her a loving-wife, that was the term, wasn't it? That was what her parents had married her off to be. 

"If you are unhappy here, I will not make you stay." 

That statement is enough to make Hinata pause. She had passed from her father's authority into Mito's. She had never before been given an option. Her entire life had been decided for her by her father, starting with the moment of her birth then every day after that. Hinata wasn't used to having a choice. 

"If you would prefer to revoke the contract, I will gladly let you out of it. I wouldn't force any shinobi, much less one from a clan as storied as the Hyuuga to commit to a union they had no interest in. If you would like to go home -- ,"

"What home?" 

The words come out more venomous than Hinata intends. She can't help but like the way the interruption surprises Mito. 

"My parents told me nothing of you. They offered me to you to get rid of me." 

"Why is that?" 

Hinata would rather grind her teeth than rehash the shame and the guilt and the anger that simmered beneath her timid facade. Telling the truth was dangerous. It had gotten her slapped full in the face as a child, on more than one occasion. Being honest about how she felt rather than discarding her feelings for cold pragmatism had been one of her greatest failures as a Hyuuga. 

"I am their shame. My younger sister was chosen as heir. When that was decided, I was to be discarded. Thrown away to whatever fool would take me. They want my inadequate blood to die with me. That's why they chose you. That's why they gave me to you." 

Mito is silent for a moment. A cool breeze rustles through the window, shifting the seals in her hair. 

"Do you think me a fool?" 

Hinata's jaw drops, then she closes it with a sharp 'click' of her teeth. 

"No, of course not, Mito-ouji," she says, praying she hasn't offended her wife. 

Mito hums, and delicately takes her hand back from Hinata, and folds both her hands in her lap. She stares at her, her grey eyes watching each minute twitch of her face as Hinata descends into discomfort. 

"You still talk as if you belong to them. That will have to stop. In Uzushio, you belong only to yourself, no matter who you are related or wedded to." 

"Yes, Mito-ouji." 

Mito scoffs, and the sound is so pristine it can only be described as princely. It makes Hinata blush for a reason she cannot fathom. 

"You will bear children if you want them," she continues. "Surrogacy is a great honor here, where men wed men and women wed women. My younger brother Yashiro would be happy to provide if you were amenable to children."

Mito tilts her head as she says it, her eyes narrowing. Hinata is abruptly aware that she is the center of Mito's focus. Even in the mountains, even in front of her father, she had always only ever garnered a passing glance. But when Nagato had spoken with her, he made her feel as if she was the only person in the world. Neji had spoken like that to her, too. 

With Mito, it's very different. It makes something hot coil in her stomach. She blames it on the island climate. 

"You are no one's property," she continues. "Not even mine." 

"What is a loving-wife?" Hinata blurts. Mito's brows raise together, and Hinata can feel the beginning of a deep flush rising to her cheeks. "I don't understand the term. We have nothing like it in Fire Country, in the mountains of Takemizakuchi." 

Mito nods, understanding her confusion. 

"A lawful-husband or lawful-wife are the partners we take for procreation and politics on the island," she explains. "A loving-wife or loving-husband is a partner taken for companionship."

"So your husband -- ,"

"Hashirama and I are good friends," Mito says, and Hinata only has a moment to catch her breath. Her wife is also married to the God of Shinobi? "And eventually, I will bear him children as part of our contract." 

"And I was chosen to -- warm your bed?" 

Hinata's stomach falls as she says the words, but Mito's sudden laughter buoys her. 

"I chose you, Hinata-chan, because of all the portraits I saw, yours was the saddest. I thought, this girl can't stay in the mountains much longer. Make no mistake, I didn't choose you out of pity. The Hyuuga are good allies. But you -- out of anyone, you seemed like you needed to escape that place. What they wrote about you was cold enough, but your abilities would strengthen the Uzumaki blood a great deal."

Mito reaches out again, and this time when she touches Hinata's cheek, she doesn't shake Mito off. 

"You were chosen for your rare beauty and your soft heart. Your gentleness. Your father wrote of it like it was some great weakness. That is not true in Uzushio."

Hinata swallows hard. She feels like she might cry and vomit and laugh all at once. It's hard to believe, that these strange people could value something that her own family is actively trying to breed out of the clan. But Nagato had been so kind, and so had the villagers that threw flowers and rice and all their good luck wishes to her when they hardly knew what she looked like. 

"I'll not stay tonight," Mito says, rubbing her thumb tenderly on Hinata's cheek. "You have much to think about. I'll be in the main house -- ,"

"Please stay. Here. With me." 

Mito waits a moment in silence, giving Hinata an opportunity to say something else, to worm her way out of it. When she doesn't, Mito nods and stays put. 

Neither of them speak for some time. The chimes that decorate Uzushio make soft music in the night. The crickets sing along to it, cicadas buzzing. Hinata is used to hearing wolves howling for the moon, owls hooting, hawks screeching to catch their prey. This music is different. Everything here is different. 

Maybe here, Hinata can be different, too. 

She doesn't know what possesses her to lean forward into Mito's space. The kiss she places on the prince's lips is chaste. Mito's mouth is plush and soft. This close, with half lidded eyes, Hinata can see skin bruising and purpling at the throat of Mito's turtleneck. The idea that someone might have gotten their hands on her wife's throat sends a sudden lance of anger through Hinata that surprises her almost as much as the wet touch of Mito's lips against hers. 

Mito's mouth is smooth. She tugs at Hinata's lower lip with her teeth, and it sends a little jolt straight through her to her stomach. Mito's hand is still on her cheek, guiding her closer, her other hand reaching out to rest on Hinata's hip. 

She follows Mito's lead, pressing forward, until she's in Mito's lap. The fabric of her black clothing is stark against Hinata's own wedding garments, a wash of grey and white with the seal of her clan noticeably missing from the back as she transitions from one family to the other. 

Hinata's never kissed anyone before. Never done anything with anyone before, really. She didn't have an opinion on men versus women. She had only ever been taught the very basics of what her duties were going to be when she took a husband to bed. Her mother Hotaru had explained it in efficient detail. Lay down and wait. If there is pain, ignore it. Hold your knees up to your chest after to quicken your womb. The faster you're pregnant the less you'll have to subject yourself to - 

Mito's hand skates up a pale thigh, and when she digs her clipped nails in, Hinata hazards a gasp against Mito's mouth. Was that supposed to feel nice? There's a heat coiling between her legs that makes her feel like a blush is rising all over her, until all of her is the same violent red as Mito's hair. 

Mito leaves her mouth and presses a series of tender kisses along Hinata's cheek, down the column of her throat. When she bites down, it takes a gasp from her, but the feeling is almost decadent. Hinata sighs, Mito's hands moving, roving.

"I'd like to see you," Mito murmurs, dropping another sharp bite on top of the purple mark bruising on Hinata's neck. "All that skin in the moonlight."

Hinata swallows and something like excitement seems to light up her senses. She makes quick work of the obi at her waist, then the koshi himo beneath it. Mito watches her with the same unnerving focus that seems to be the trademark of Uzumaki shinobi. 

The silk, now loose and held together with only her hands, suddenly feels impossibly heavy. Mito's gaze softens, and her hands come up to cup Hinata's face. 

"We'll still be married in the morning."

Even if they didn't consummate the marriage immediately. It was a promise that Mito wouldn't turn her away to the wolves, wouldn't be so displeased with her experience that she'd try to return her to the mountains. 

"You belong to you, Hinata. Not to me. Not to your parents. To you." 

Hinata shuts her eyes, and leans forward. She presses her forehead against Mito's, where there is a faint purple diamond seal. It's a Hyuuga kiss, and there they share breath while Hinata shakes off her wedding garments. 

"S-say that again."

It's the first time she's stuttered since she was a girl and an elder slapped her in the face with a wooden spoon to break her of the habit. 

But Mito only leans in, slotting their mouths against each other, until Hinata can feel Mito's breath ghosting over her mouth. 

"You don't belong to anyone but yourself. You belong to you, Hinata."

Hinata nods, and though she feels perilously dizzy, there's something exhilarating about it. Mito places a hand on her back and uncrosses her legs. With a gentleness and a fluidity that belies her strength, she lays Hinata down on her back, on top of the white and grey cloth, on top of the quilt. 

Mito lays down just beside her, and Hinata turns to look her in the eye. Mito smiles and presses a soft kiss to her mouth, then another, and another, and her hands are moving, pushing, squeezing one of her breasts, tweaking the nipple until Hinata gasps. 

"I want to see your face the first time you come."

Hinata feels like she should be embarrassed, exposed, awkward, uncomfortable. Instead, she feels hot, like her heart is beating three times as fast, like Mito's hands are burning across her body. No one's ever touched her anywhere, not like this. 

Mito shifts, rising on her knees beside Hinata. Her head dives down, rests gently on Hinata's breasts. She's sure Mito can hear her heart beating. She's almost petting her, one hand soothing down Hinata's flank, to her hip, her thigh, then between and -- 


Mito smiles. "Oh," she says right back. Her breath puffs against the reddening mark at Hinata's throat, and suddenly, she was a necklace of them, ruby red marks as dark as Mito's hair, dark as the blood welling under Hinata's skin.

Mito's fingers seize around Hinata's clit, each turn of her thumb and forefinger sending electricity thrumming through Hinata's body. Her knees close on instinct, trying to trap Mito's hand. A fingernail glances against it, and Hinata's hips buck, she can't stop them. Mito turns her head to catch one of Hinata's nipples between her teeth, still watching, still curious. 

The fingers around her clitoris smooth until it's just the pad of Mito's thumb rubbing against it. It feels like something is seizing up, coiling and ready in the pit of Hinata's stomach. She gasps, an "Unh," slipping between her lips before she can stop it. "P-please, do th-that again!"

There's the slide of one finger inside of her, and Hinata feels that wet heat between her thighs roll down until it touches her ass, a stain on her wedding garment she can't make herself care about. The first digit goes in so smooth, like a dream Hinata's had but has been too embarrassed before now to remember. "Another," she pleads, all sense of decorum gone out the window.

Mito complies, and the second finger stretches just a bit, but in a good way, no burn or pain or blood about it. It's nothing like her mother told her it would be. There's nothing dry, nothing hurts. Mito bites her nipple, and Hinata arches off the futon, eager to fit more of her breast into Mito's mouth if possible. She rolls the sensitive bundle of nerves between her teeth, and Hinata presses her hips down to meet each little thrust of Mito's fingers. 

The third makes her feel full, stretched in a pleasant way, and Hinata can't help the way her cunt squeezes around those fine slender fingers, can't help pushing down, can't help wanting more. It's the first time she's ever felt like her body belongs to herself, and Mito is there, carrying her through it. 

"More?" she asks. 

Hinata nods, feeling sweaty and helpless. Instead of adding another finger, Mito curves them, and it's like a button is pressed inside of her. "Ahh, yes," she moans, low in her throat, her voice lost among the chimes and the crickets and the ocean lapping at Uzushio's shoreline. 

Mito's mouth roves over her chest, biting and twisting, leaving bruises that only Hinata will be able to see. She times each thrust of her fingers with a bite that feels less like a punishment and more like a transformation. There will be a fat purple welt underneath her breast in the morning, and when Mito's mouth leaves the mark, Hinata's hand flies up to press into it, to feel that spark of pain that proves Mito wanted her, wants her, chose her. 

"You belong to you, Hinata. I'll do whatever you want me to do to you." Hinata's hips raise higher and higher, Mito's fingers curve and catch deeper, her thumb a hard firm pressure against her swollen red clit. She moves her thumb in tight little circles, and Hinata feels her thighs begin to shake, trembling beneath the skin. "Whatever you want. Anything."

Mito's fingers speed up, setting a pace that makes a wet 'thwack' sound with each push further inside of Hinata. Her voice fills the room like incense smoke, sweet and heady and overwhelming. 

I could put my mouth on you, put my tongue inside of you, lick you until you're sore and tender. I can stretch you open so you could take my whole hand. Would you like that? There are cocks made of glass I could put inside of you, bigger than my fingers, do you want that? I could make you so full you wouldn't be able to blink without feeling it. I could cover you in bruises.

I could just touch your clit for hours, nothing else until you came for me. I can make you come over, and over, and over, until there's nothing but you left. I'll let you come all over my face, and you'd be the only one I'd let do it. Get my hair wet. Soak the bed. I can touch you over your clothes like you've got nothing on. I could make you scream if you wanted me to.

I'll teach you how to touch me. Behind the knee, I like being touched there. If you bite my ear I make the sweetest little noise. I'd love to put your mouth on my cunt and give you instructions. I'd love to feel your fingers inside of me, and I'll tell you, I'll show you just how to do it. Anything you want. I'll take care of you. I'll hold you while you shake. Anything, anything, anything. 

"Anything?" Hinata breathes, eyes half lidded, and Mito is close, straddling Hinata, pressing her own smaller chest against Hinata's breasts, and they're so close, Hinata can feel her own breath off Mito's face, and Mito's fingers are buried so deep, touching something Hinata didn't even know was inside of her, over and over again, and her thighs are wet and her wedding kimono is ruined but Hinata likes it. She likes being wet and slick and easy to slide into. She likes the way Mito's grey eyes are focused on her, the seals pinned tidily in her hair swaying forward, making a breeze against her face. She likes the hollow sound her pussy makes when Mito's fingers slide out then back in, like this part of her already doesn't know what it would do without her prince. 

"Everything," Mito says, and Hinata feels her stomach clench tighter and tighter. Her thighs shake with the weight of the orgasm building inside of her, and Mito says, "Yes, love, let it happen. You want it, I want it for you. Relax into my hand, I know it's hard. Relax, relax, it'll be so much better."

It takes great effort to let her hips fall down, but when she does, Mito's pace doubles, and Hinata feels more wet hot slick spill out of her to make it easier, and Mito's knuckles rap hard and consistent against the rim of her cunt, the muscle fluttering, desperate, Hinata wanting more, but how could there possibly be more, and then there's Mito's pinky, one more finger, and Hinata feels the moment she can't relax, the way her insides seize. She comes with a shout that Mito doesn't bother to suppress. Instead she says, "That's it love, be loud. Come for me, sweet girl. Yes, yes, yes."

The orgasm makes her vision go black, and Hinata can feel something thicker and hotter spilling out for her, and Mito feels it too, doesn't stop pushing and pulling her fingers until the noise is so lewd and wet and Hinata's thighs can't help but splay apart, and Mito fucks her through it, to a second orgasm that makes her even more boneless, one that's wetter than the last. The third one is dry and nearly better because of it. Hinata lets out a mewl, a pitiful sound, "Mito," haggard and wrecked and delighted and exhausted. 

In response, Hinata's prince raises her hand, wet with Hinata's thick white cum, the fluid that gushed out of her afterward like a faucet turned all the way on cutting through the white, dripping and staining Mito's black sleeve. Hinata feels hazy and tired, and Mito makes quick work of bunching Hinata's kimono and  the quilt (now featuring quite the large wet spot) in the corner. 

Hinata's chest rises and falls, and she watches Mito come back to her, and she can't help but feel lighter. She's married. To someone that -- someone that wants her to be her own person. Who thinks that her timidity and her tenderness are strengths, not only in the mountains, but that can be put to better use here, with other people who viewed kindness as something inherently valuable. 

Mito removes her own shirt as well, revealing an assortment of scars, and an impressive looking sealing array that begins on her sternum and seems to complete somewhere below the waist of her trousers. Hinata wants to follow those thick black lines with her tongue, wants to twist up Mito's tenketsu around her breasts until they're so sensitive she can't think when Hinata has a nipple between her fingers. 

She reaches out, and Mito drops to one knee, and then the other. She drops the fresh duvet over the two of them, and Hinata presses in close immediately, putting one arm around Mito's waist, to feel the rising and falling of her breath. 

The prince is still there, her hair unkempt, snoring sweetly, her chin tucked on top of Hinata's head when she wakes up the next morning.