Naruto: The Prince of Lust

"No one can endure when love is in the mix," Anko easily replies. "Field Shinobi have no value if they chose loved ones over the mission and village. It's why Anbu literally conceal their persona from society, always detached, simply so the mission always stays first. If for some fucked up reason you and Asuma don't work out, at least I can expect to see one hell of a Team Eight for the Chūnin exams," she jests with a wide grin.

"I don't need that kind of motivation to create the best team for the exams," Kurenai returns a little more forcefully than she intended. Kurenai brings her cup to her ruby red lips, unable to shake the image of Hinata-chan's beautiful face breaking from sadness after being told for the second night in a row that they won't be having a session. The kind-hearted girl tried to be accepting of her sensei's decision but she couldn't hide the abundance of sadness pouring from the girl. The young Hyūga was making so much progress, it broke her heart in an entirely different way from Asuma to have to stop. It made Kurenai eager to find Uzumaki-kun and yell at him for his part in what her dear student is going through. Unable to find the boy only added to her already high levels of agitation.

"Yeah, yeah," Anko says, easily batting away Kurenai's frustrations as nothing more than a girlfriend having a bad day. "I got some reports to finish up. I'll see you tonight."

Kurenai searched for the blue-eyed blond menace for some time before giving up and heading home to ready herself some for the night. She didn't need her S-Rank level of dress for casual drinks among friends at the usual Jōnin only bar, but it's always a bit of a thrill to look sexy enough to catch a man completely off-guard. Wearing comfortable shorts that showed plenty of leg and a tight red top, she meets the others at Elite Spirits.

It was gratifying spending time with Anko and catching up with Genma, Guy, Yūgao, Hayate, and Kakashi. Despite how early in the evening it was, Kurenai had already earned her intoxicated buzz. That's not to imply she drinks heavily, quite the opposite; she's a very modest drinker, however, her typical strategy when out with Anko was to drink early and taper off for most of the night, so that a usually intoxicated Anko rarely notices. It also has the extra added bonus of no hangover the following day.

"Kakashi," Kurenai speaks up, taking a seat next to the Copy Ninja, "would you care to explain to me where your student is hiding?"

Playing with a saucer of clear liquid, the elite Jōnin asks, "I assume we're talking about Naruto?"

Nodding stiffly, she states, non-too-happily, "he's missed two meetings. These delays are unacceptable."

Sensing her clear agitation he chuckles lightly, hoping to ease the tension a bit. "Mah, well, that kid is a ball of energy, you know. He doesn't do boring well."

"He told you what I wanted help with?" Her eyes widen, getting more upset than surprised.

"No," Kakashi quickly tells the brunette. "He just said it was boring. He's generally out most of the day but the best places to find him are Ichiraku's or his apartment. I suggest trying Ichiraku's first. It smells better."

Content with the info, she simply tells him, "as his sensei, you're ultimately responsible for his faults, so I expect you to buy my drinks to make up for it." Genma and Hayate laugh and without a response from the famous ninja, she simply leaves and returns to Anko's side, momentarily relishing in getting one over Asuma's friend.

It seemed fate did not approve.

Neither Anko or Kurenai expected Asuma to enter the bar, a muscular arm entwined with the delicate arm of princess Tomoko, only she wasn't dressed as royalty of the Fire Nation. Instead of the large ornamental gown, pristine in its cleanliness as it was complex in its appearance, she was wearing a tasteful, yet alluring royal red dress, cut a few inches above her knee so when she sits most of her thigh will show. Her hair was loose, silky in its buoyancy, and long, reaching her lower back. Her face and neck were elegantly longer than Kurenai first observed, which only made her look that much nobler. It was with great tribulation and heartache that Kurenai kept drinking more than she should.

It was explained to them—because naturally, Asuma would bring her to their table—that the princess wanted a break from her perfect life to congregate below her station. Kurenai listened to every word, memorized every gesture between them, but the phenomenon that made her heart sink into her stomach was the way Asuma would only look at her red-irises when it was due in polite conversation. It clearly demonstrated that Kurenai was no more or less important than anyone at the table. It hadn't stung immediately but the longer it simmered, the worse that realization became, and with her growing anxiety, so too did her drinking grow.

When Anko eventually realized that Kurenai had consumed far more sake than she should've, she gathers her highly inebriated friend and bids them all good night. With her girlfriend's arm wrapped around her neck, it took Anko ages to reach Kurenai's house, all the while listening to Kurenai's tearful apology for her behavior.

"I'm sso sssorry, Anko," Kurenai slurs a remorseful apology. "I let it get under my skin. I let her... ugh-"

"It's okay," Anko kindly returns as she lays the beauty on her couch. "If she wasn't a princess of our country, I'd've kicked that bitch's ass for you."

Looking up at her friend dearly, Kurenai couldn't stop the tears any more than she could stop the smile that spread her sad face. "Thank you! I wanted... I was beside myself with anger! Not even at her, but, just… at everything!"

"That's what rough sex is for, babe," Anko comments, but Kurenai is too in her head to hear it. Worried, Anko's concern compelled her to ask, "do you need me to stay? I can get someone else to torture my prisoner for me."

Pulling out of her thoughts, Kurenai simply shakes her head, "no. No, thank you, Anko. It's inappropriate to shirk your responsibilities. I'll- I'll be fine. Plus I know how much you love their screams."

"I do," Anko grins. "Okay, I'll check on you tomorrow," she declares before leaving her.

Kurenai stumbles into her kitchen, swaying heavily toward the cabinet. Pilfering through the contents of the top shelf, her hand finally lands on the bottle of sake she stored for occasions such as emergencies or celebrations. She hugged her sake, taking it with her to the backyard, where Kurenai drank directly from the bottle as she envisioned the princess on one of the target's she has set up thirty yards away.

Launching a kunai, she misses the imaginary forehead for the imaginary ear. She pictured Asuma on another target and missed just as badly. In between swigs, she imagined many faces; the Hokage, for allowing this, Hiashi, for Hinata-chan's predicament, her mother, for leaving, her father, for dying, Uzumaki, for being content as the vessel for that monster that took her father, Anko, for not torturing the princess, Hinata-chan for being so weak-willed, and clearer than all their faces, herself, for all her failures. Every face was spared a kunai to the forehead, all except her own, which she shot with deadly accuracy.

"Helloooooo," a loud familiar call sounds from the front of her home. 'Why do I know that voice?' Her mind sluggishly asks as her sloppy feet shuffle to the front door. Halfway there and the person wouldn't stop knocking, irking her enough to yell, "alright! I'm coming!"