A/N- Smutty ItaSaku/Sasusaku. Also, aside from 'War of Hearts' I haven't written about ItaSaku enough. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. In the end everyone will probably be surprised.

1/4

House of Gei Series.

Three nights

By: Yuhikoi

Sakura Haruno

"That one, I want her,"

It wasn't unusual that you didn't think this applied to you, it isn't often-or ever, that someone makes such a request and you're the preference. You're always in the line-up of women, always shrinking into yourself counting down the moments until you can peel away and resume your duties as a maid and not as some glorified whore. It wasn't like you were looking down on them or anything but you felt like you had a lot more going for you than to lay on your back and be disrespected by anyone who could afford you.

You weren't built that way; to endure something so degrading and downright horrifying being done to your body, to be taken repeatedly by someone who cared very little about you or your mental stability. A lot of women could stomach being a fuck bag for pay but you weren't in those ranks, no matter the price that was payed.

Some would argue that you were hardly a woman, in fact, you actually felt quite like you were still in the throes of your youth. You were at that confusing juncture of not yet a woman but still as careless as a child. People were still taking care of you-even if you hated to admit it. You left home at a young age but it wasnt like you had a say in the matter.

It always came as a surprise to you, living in the House of Gei but you were surviving and learning at a snail's rate. There were still things you couldn't quite come to terms with, the obscene views in relation to women were one of them and men in general was a close second.

So, of course, you made no reaction to the request. It couldn't be you he was talking about, it never was. You're eyeballing a mischievous bug with its flittering transparent wings, it's on the nail of your grubby toe with its iridescent shell that seems to darken the instant you notice it. It tickles when it reaches the callus skin of your feet and you stifle the tickle that strokes your tummy and coats it in anxious flutters.

"Sakura?"

A firm voice is directed at you, gravely. You recognize the voice and it still doesn't quite absorb you, not like it normally does. It's like the static of background noise, you desperately want to drown out with the bug on your toe. You strain your eyes, wishing you could hear the noise of the bug roaming your toe, a moment later you wish that you had the ability to take its form and fly away from here. You couldn't imagine why this bug, with all its freedom, had chosen to waste it on a toe like yours.

"Sakura Haruno!?"

Your sleeve is being yanked and with it so is every other part of you; stumbling off the podium, nearly losing your footing. You're a klutz and grace was always absent in your presence. You probably resemble some type of wet cat, arising from one of your lost lives and realizing that the second death would probably hurt just as much as the first.

"Are you sure this is the one for you? Get a good look, she's barely got any meat on her, we've got juicer girls." Your guardian-your wrangler-your employer, is holding you aloft by the sparse chunk of meat of your forearm. He's forcing you to twist and turn, like you're a personal display made for keen scrutiny.

An aura of terror has taken you, crippled you and bred itself inside of you. You feel nauseous and sick, sweat is pooling at the small of your back, hot droplets of sweat trek down your spine. Your eyes are burning with unshed tears, teeth clamped against the swell of your bottom lip.

What are you doing, Kakashi?

You want to ask the man whose been responsible for you all this time. Sure, you guys have had your ups and downs as far as work was involved. Sometimes you were undeniably lazy, late or completely disrespectful but he was always a pretty good sport about it. He'd reduce your food rations, overwork you or make you scrub the jizz-soiled bedsheets with your bare hands but it's what you knew you deserved for being rotten and irresponsible. But this? This had come completely out of left field, this transaction, it made no sense and you couldn't pinpoint the last time you had done anything wrong to deserve this sort of fate.

He knows that you're not employed for this particular service and it's mortifying that he's even considering giving you to someone. You had no experience to go off from and even if you did, you weren't willing to just lend your body on a whim. This can't be happening, it's some type of joke, this is just one of his over exaggerated lessons and just as you'd be about to bawl your eyes out, he'd come clean and banish you to your quarters. Maybe you forgot to clean one of the rooms thoroughly, maybe this was the delayed punishment from the time you spilled scolding hot chamomile tea on one of the Fire Daimyo's guardsmen. You recalled apologizing profusely on your knees, even after being smacked across the face, nostrils leaking blood.

Something firm suddenly grasps your hips. Your body stiffened and you long to bolt across the floorboard and out the door at demon speed but your brain stopped functioning. You felt a heavy presence beside you, a presence so overwhelmingly dense it overpowered Kakashi's and made you feel as though the guardian had left. Though you're conscious of his hand clasped tightly around your pulsing forearm.

It wouldn't be smart to look up, so you keep your eyes on their feet, the man touching you stalks around you slowly, dragging his fingers along you. You can hear the ruffling of his cloak, make out the crimson cloud patches against the black backdrop of it. He's moving gently, his sandals cracking against the floorboard as he continues his assessment unhurriedly.

"She's the one," his voice is no louder than a rumble. It feels close to your ear but he's a distance away, though his fingers now reside at the nape of your neck. Your skin is sweltering, your heart is beating the shit out of your chest and thrumming wildly through your ears, trying to find a way to get rid of itself.

Your mouth feels dry, like you swallowed sandpaper, you look towards Kakashi and he's doing everything in his power to not make eye contact with you. He releases your forearm and it hurts, like a pinch that will sting until morning. Though you can't make out his expression over that bit of cloth, you can see that his dark pupil expands and his silver brows are high like he's surprised about something.

"Well, you see-Mr. Uchiha, Sakura isn't one of the working gals," He explains in a cautious and reserved tone, putting it lightly and trying to keep an air of business behind his obvious fuck up. "I get how she might seem desirable, she's younger than the other gals but I'm afraid she hasn't come into that kind of maturity nor experience in this department. Wouldn't you prefer a woman more-em, tailored to your needs?"

Should this upset you, being talked down to, right in front of your face? It wasn't like he was lying. At this point you'd be fine with Kakashi telling this thrill seeking stranger that you were mentally ill and sexually challenged. That could just as easily be true as well. Anything to get the hell out of dodge and leave with your dignity, that's all you had left after all.

The stranger sighed, though you could feel that he wouldn't relent, his heavy fingers were still on you possessively as though he had already payed for the night. To a man, you'd imagine that you might have been more preferable-compared to all the run through women in the House of Gei but you knew next to nothing about pleasing a man, you could hardly please yourself.

"I was told the House of Gei was a very professional establishment that caters to their clientele, a dear friend of mine raves about the services here for shinobi, so I was expecting to have my fill-the first time trying it out. I had my doubts upon entering this tavern of seasoned whores but I have no reason to doubt that, "

He lingered on his last word, you could feel him crowding you, his large frame pressed against your wavering spine. You could feel the sculpted ridges of him, the lean but intimidating muscularity you feel against you is enough to send you into an eruption of shivers.

"I want her, I'll pay whatever is required-to have her for a night or three. The lack of experience is an issue of very little relevance to me. I've been patient long enough, name your price hostess?"

Without any hope of hope you stare hard at your guardian, even if his eye resembles a saucer and you can practically make out the currency signs flashing ominously behind them. You still hope that he wouldn't go as far as to hand you over like this, there was no way he would just let someone fuck you. He was your guardian, he was there to protect you from things like this, although you had suffered discipline at the hands of many strangers outside Kakashi, usually due to your own self destructive tendencies and no fault of your caretaker. He has always been sympathetic to your natural awkwardness and even found himself laughing at your shenanigans.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't.

When his eye finally drops to you, your heart soars and you're smiling. This is your desperate attempt to appeal to him, like a daughter to their father-though he was far from. Still, he was as close as it gets. The longer you both stare at each other, the heavier your chest feels with grief. Your lips tremble and you can hear a strangled sound in your throat but you're swallowing and swallowing to keep it down.

Kakashi places a hand to his head and sighs, he looks you over one last time and you recognize the face he gives you.

It pinches you sharply, like he pinched your forearm.

It's the face he made when he directed you to hold your head back so that he could dab at the blood under your nose after you were backhanded. He didn't scold you then, he simply said sorry and although sorry didn't erase the angry tears burning through your swollen eyes nor did it stop the blood gushing from your inflamed and arguably damaged nostrils.

Sorry was just a word, he hoped would lessen the blow.

But sorry would never make this right, it only held you over until the next inevitable sorry.

You lowered your head back down to your toe, the bug was no longer dwelling on your toe. You could hardly hear the men discussing you, like you were some type of exotic delicacy being ordered. You roamed the polished ground for the bug and see the rudiments of its body fused into the ground like a blemish, flattened. The wings weren't discernable. If you had only just seen the bug now, you wouldn't have thought that it had ever been anything beautiful. It should have flown away when it had the chance.

You swallowed hard, trying to school your visibly shaken features. There was no use.

I'm sorry.

One year earlier...

The House of Gei wasn't a place people just casually strolled into and applied for. The place was a sentence that you had to serve. Women employed were either indebted to the slovenly host, indentured servants or stragglers who were loyal to their family's welfare and sent money home. You were the latter.

Your parent's medical bills were through the roof-and have been since they began their descent into seniority. If it wasn't your mother being carted off to the hospital, it was your father and though they use to tell you that they would take care of everything, you knew that pride was a palatable trait in your genes. Nothing was ok, they were only getting worse and worse.

You came across Kakashi when you were sixteen, you were malnourished and practically begging for work and polishing your nonexistent resume. Some people would buy into your claims and hire you, only to fire you the moment they realize you were no good. You felt like you were on your last breath, the day you came across him.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the sky looked bruised and puffy; arrayed in swirls of bronze and reds. You were in Konoha, the same spot you always worked diligently from, the marketing area where top dollar merchants gambled behind their makeshift stands. You had no stand, only your ability to lie about your worth and that day, you were thirsty and your voice had grown hoarse from trying to convince people that you could earn your keep. Needless to say, no one bought it.

The sun was beating down on you endlessly, your hair was matted around your face and the stench of you had been repelling potential employers away. Your throat was sore when you swallowed and your legs quivered with every step you took, vertigo had you spinning around and when you passed out, you thought you'd never wake up again.

"Can you folks give us space, she's coming to,"

Blearily, your eyes flutter open and a slight breeze turns the sweat on your brow cold. Your mouth is thick with bile and woozily, you make to flee the state of shock your body is in. People are hovering around you, worrying over you-like they care. You blink profusely and your vision clears to unveil unfamiliar faces, the one closest to you has a head of wild silver hair and a mask that conceals majority his face. You identify a single eye and raise a brow.

"Is this hell?" you grunt and you can hear him chuckling at your lame joke.

That might've been why you thought he was so trustworthy, you couldn't see the smile beneath that thin cloth but someone had laughed at you. Someone listened to something you had said and they thought it was funny. Maybe you were just desperate for genuine human interaction, maybe you lurched at the opportunity too quickly. Hadn't your parents always told you to be wary of strangers? Being on your own, you had thrown caution to the win and decided what's best for you. You couldn't take your parents advice, they were old and raised on strange principals where to trust is to die. This was why neither of them had friends and they depended so much on you.

"As hot as it is, it certainly feels hellish. Let me help you up."

Fatigue was evident on half his face, he urged himself to stand upright and held out a palm for you. He was tall, broad and wearing an odd doily looking bathrobe, in public. It was an odd fashion statement that you questioned inwardly but wouldn't dare speak it out loud. The crowd hovering over you lost interest in you being alive and dispersed. You took the silver haired man hand and he hoisted you up. Staggering, you tried to regain your equilibrium. The man steadies you with a single aiding palm between your shoulder blades.

"There you are," he encourages, "it's of dire importance that you keep yourself hydrated, the amount of heat casualties this summer keeps increasing, an all-time high I hear. If you've got a couple of minutes, I could buy you something to drink."

You nearly pant at the offer, you could feel sweat dampening your slacks and making your shirt stick to your back, the density higher at your side because of the duffle bag loaded with the few things you own.

"No, I couldn't," you admit modestly, you have done this enough to know exactly where it might go. The man seemed very young and eccentric. Men like that always had an angle after buying you something, they would assume that you'd do virtually anything for a meal and you didn't have time to waste on a public scuffle because some prick got horny watching you eat. It wasn't like you were trying to seduce anyone by practically devouring the plate along with whatever they had chosen to order for you. You were starving and on the brink of death. How anyone could misconstrue your homelessness was beyond you.

"You," Kakashi says tilting his head to level with your frantic eyes. "will not be doing a thing sweetie, it's my treat, you're too young to die from heat stroke. I was just on my way to grab a late lunch anyway. You may as well tag along, unless of course you mean to insult me?"

Kakashi smells like something marshy, cinder, nicotine and piney. He walks with a languid conviction and a way that makes him seem much older than he looks. You are strutting extra hard to keep at his side, your duffle bag knocking up against your hip irritatingly, your knees feel creaky but you press on as though your state of unrest doesn't bother you.

You wonder if Kakashi is the owner of a business or a high-ranking employee somewhere in the village. Maybe he could vouch for you and get you in somewhere. He seems like the generous type of person you should reach out to. Though your parents would be disappointed in your blind faith in strangers, you know they're just old and mistrusting of everything, even evolution. You miss their paranoia and your heart drops in your chest, thinking about what will happen if you don't get a foot through a nonrotating door. You absolutely had to try, so you swallow your apprehensions.

"Sweetie," Kakashi is examining you with a single eye, he presses his cold knuckles to your fervent forehead and waits a beat. "you're hotter than a fuckin sauna on the sun, maybe I should walk you to the clinic just to be on the safe side."

Going to the clinic would only quadruple the bills you were attempting to pay off-for your parent's sake. If you were sick, you would just have to suck it up and pray for a speedy recovery without the antibiotics. You refused to wind up in the hospital. You couldn't afford to be sick or hurt.

Greatly embarrassed by how, out of it, you always were you-wave off his concerns and shoulder the duffle bag more securely.

"N-no, it's fine, it's like you said. It's just really hot and I've got a lot of junk on my mind."

Kakashi nodded sympathetically, "Can relate on that one, I'm galivanting around the village in a damn bathrobe, bitches are driving me crazy…"

His voice is choppy and low, under his breath as though he hadn't been meaning for you to hear but you had and you're concerned, for yourself of course. It wasn't like you were astounded by the sudden change of his tone or offended by the obscenity of that derogatory word. You might've been young but profanity was nothing you felt too threatened by, hell, you yourself were capable of having a sailor's mouth on certain occasions. Mostly when pissed or in pain, your vocabulary suddenly got very extensive.

He walked you to a small little diner that you could never hope to afford, ever. One of those fancy smancy places, that required a proper reservation. You remember walking home from school and seeing a few of your silver-spoon classmates seated in booths there, their table would always overflow with all types of exotic foods and desserts that left you frothing at the mouth. A few times you were tempted to dash in and thieve like your life depended on it.

Which is funny because it might have.

Kakashi ushers you and a waitress in a yukata ushers the both of you to your seat. The smell is so tidy you nearly puke at the pristine atmosphere. Was the air filtered in here? It smelled of vanilla and crisp lavender sheets. The seats are so leathery and shiny, your eyes had to adjust to this level of definition. The atmosphere is unlike anything you've ever felt, the climate is a far cry from the sweltering outdoors, a coolness radiated. The waitress stands aside, extending a graceful hand to offer you and the older man a small booth stashed in a corner.

"Thank you," Kakashi says to the waitress as he settles down, fixing his periwinkle robe, that did very little to conceal his over confident demeanor. You wish you could laugh at the robe but honestly, he was getting away with pulling it off.

"Thanks," you echo. The waitress is all cheek and teeth, placing open scroll menus on either side.

"If you'll take a minute to peruse the menu, I'll return to assist you in your orders, thank you for dining at Ichirakus." Without another word, she whisks off

"Mhhm," Kakashi hums thoughtfully, hunched over the menu, "This place has really come up, it used to be tragically run down in my day. Good for them."

Your eyes are scoping out the place. There are crystalline chandeliers, with long glassy ornaments chiming from them. Spiritual instrumental gives an ambience of tranquility and you can hear a guzzling fish tank somewhere in the area. A veil of indistinct chatter seals you in and you lean into the table towards Kakashi.

"You must be loaded, this place is-this place is freakin nice but it looks super expensive," you stare back up at the crafty arched ceiling and sleek architectural design.

Kakashi is shrugging carelessly, he tosses his menu down like it's no big deal that he can afford it. You look into his eye and he looks back at you, seemingly aloof, you blink a few times, a puzzled look latches to your face. Out of habit you began to fuss with your hair, slicking the damp mess back and to your utter amazement, it behaves.

"What?" you ask innocently. Though in the back of your mind, you note that you still must ask him about his occupation. If he can afford a, 'late lunch' at such an extravagant place, the job had to be paying really well. Really well, was your starting rate.

Kakashi taps a single calculating digit on his jaw and shrugged.

"You have beautiful eyes, has anyone ever told you that?" he inquired, his brow twitches up and then he leans forward, lacing his big ashen hands. His fingernails were oddly lengthened.

You're a bashful mess and you have no right to be. You were pretty dingy and you couldn't remember the last time you snuck and took a bath, you hadn't been home in days, you hardly had a place to lay your head at night. How could he be so nice to you? Feeding you compliments and offering to buy you a hot decent meal. It was all too good to be true and that was the terrifying part.

"Am I being too presumptuous, thinking you enjoy these sorts of things?" he waved a hand to gesture around the restaurant but you know the complements are implied as well. He yanks down the cloth on his face, just enough to let his lips out. For a split second you wonder the story behind it but don't bother asking.

You shake your head profusely to his question, biting your bottom lip like a demure child. He laughs in exuberance and clears his throat just as soon.

"Actually, if I could be so bold. How old are you? You'll have to pardon me, I know most women aren't too fond of being asked about it so upfront but you, you could pass for jailbait so-I thought I'd ask."

You are the very definition of jailbait but that's not something you feel like you should fess up to, so you don't.

"Just turned eighteen, a few months ago." You lie astoundingly, nodding as though you were nodding to a beat and skimming the aisles for the waitress. You're parched and hungry enough to eat a boar.

Kakshi clapped, "Congratulations, doors start opening up at that age, you should seize every opportunity that comes your way. You're a decent looking young woman, so why not?"

He was suddenly looking at you through new eyes. Like you revealing that you were eighteen suddenly granted him access to behave differently. You couldn't quite put your finger on it or identify his strange behavior. You might've lied and said you were eighteen but you certainly didn't know what being that age entailed. Growing up just meant aging to you, you knew people who were older than you and they still hadn't been any more responsible than you were.

When the waitress finally returns, things had changed drastically. Kakashi was ordering an alcoholic beverage, inquiring if he could smoke and doing so as though he were the only person in the restaurant. He even offered you a smoke, which you declined. Your unflinching refusal to smoke opened a can of worms and somehow you ended up talking about sex. Yes, sex. The sixteen-year-old that you were, knew that you couldn't speak on something you had no knowledge of and it was never a topic in your religious home either. Your parents were strict and believed in purity until marriage, you guessed you adopted their philosophy because you were sixteen and didn't feel like you were missing out on anything by not having sex. Even though people called you a virgin to insult you and some people worshipped you for being a virgin. You didn't think it mattered that much.

Kakashi starts telling you about the one time he fucked someone, for some reason. You're uncomfortably stiff in the booth, sipping lemon water through a straw and trying not to focus on any particular detail of the story.

Kakashi is elbows deep into the Oakwood table, his voice is secretive, though you believe that he could just as easily shout it from the rooftops and not be embarrassed. You really can't understand why he chooses to tell you the story but after a while he gets to (what you presume is) the point.

"-kind of like a geisha house but not really, a bit lewder-fuck, that's probably a gross understatement. Regardless, I can recount my experience from that glorious place. Sex is, sex can be a decent activity, soothing-even therapeutic. You know what I mean?"

He has the stem of his wine glass between his index and middle finger. He flicks his wrist and the red glistening liquid roils around, he stares almost hypnotized into it. You simply nod, caught off-guard with his strange need to be agreed with. You have no idea what he's talking about but you sense a closing to his nonsensical ranting. You had both ordered katsudon, you had ordered it by default because everything else wasn't cheap nor pronounceable.

"I run a whorehouse," Kakashi blurted and you're gawking and looking over your shoulder overtly, wondering if he had drawn attention. It's apparent that Kakashi is slightly inebriated, just a smidge.

Great, the guy works at a house for tail. You wouldn't be caught dead at such a place-you'd be branded a whore by association. Even if it pays well, there were just some things you wouldn't touch with a nine inch pole. You feel like a fool for leading yourself on and thinking this time would be any different than when you were rejected by other employers. No one wanted you, you just didn't have the skills to acquire a decent job and laying on your back was nowhere on your list of dream jobs.

"Oh c'mon, don't look so judgy, people have to make a living. Men like sex," he claims, placing a plam to his chest as an advocate, "not just me either, it's a good outlet, especially with all that's going on with this economy. There is never a dry day, business is always booming-hey, hey?"

"Hey?" You're grinning, though every muscle in your face knows it's fake. You wonder if people can overhear Kakashi.

"How would you like to come work for me?" Kakashi turns up his wine glass and it hardly looks like he took a sip, his eyes are on you and you're no longer smiling.

"Uh, I'm not a whore." You state sardonically, blinking hard, unsure of whether you should be insulted or angry that someone was blatantly extending such an offer as though it were a real game changer.

Lifestyles of a whore? No thanks.

Kakashi fixes a hard stare on you, like you've somehow offended him by tone alone. Wasn't he just referring to his girls as, 'bitches'. The man is a contradiction.

"You're way too hung up on the label," He scolds, "the profession takes more discipline than most professions."

Somehow, you doubt that.

You're shaking your head at him, sticking to your guns and of course he doesn't give up on trying to talk you over to the dark side. Kakashi was clearly a man who could finesse a chicken into a deep fryer. He was determined to make you an apostle of living off your back. He could try at least. You were a virgin and sex looked like an excruciating activity, you'd rather veto from your life. There was nothing he could say to make you want to let some sweaty freak violate every orifice on your body.

"I don't want tons of perverts to, you know-do it to me," you elaborate, aiming your straw into a corner of the glass-stabbing at the crushed ice.

"It's more complex than that," he snapped his fingers in an irate way, "what's your name again?"

"Sakura..." You don't recall ever telling him that the first time.

"Right-Sakura, my apologies in advance for being so frank but are you a virgin?"

By not you've gotten a slight idea of who Kakashi is. He's unfiltered and unapologetic. Though you knew you should have been prepared for the next bold question he ventured to ask, you weren't.

Your shoulders felt like they were over her ears as you slunk back into the booth like melted swiss. Figuring there wasn't a reason to lie, you nod noncommittally, twirling your straw around idly. You couldn't seem to keep still.

Kakashi sucks in a heavy breath and sits up ramrod straight, taking it all into account, you could see the gears turning in his head.

"Tell ya what, I've got a proposition. Hows about you come work for me, cleaning duties. I get this feeling that you could use the job. Couldn't you?"

This wasn't exactly what you had in mind, it all seemed way too close for comfort to you. Being a custodian to a whore house, sounds like a messy job but it seemed like a miraculous offer-where there were so few. None in fact.

As much as you'd like to reject the offer and hightail it out of there, you knew that leaving this, could potentially lead to never having the money to pay your parents medical bills. You were running out of time and eventually, the hospital wouldn't be able to host them for much longer. This was necessary and it's not like you were going to be the one whoring. You'd just be cleaning things up, no doubt it would be a trying feat but it had its merits.

"Just cleaning?" You ask in a small voice, making sure you looked him directly in the eye. You tried to look older than what you are but you couldn't help but think you probably looked bloated and incompetent.

Kakashi raised his palms in silent surrender.

"Yes, unless you're comfortable with doing more," he gibed, "I'm not giving up on the idea of you joining the House of Gei."

You scoff and raise a dubious brow, "Why would you offer something like that to me? You've known me for all of thirty minutes. I could be way in over my head."

Kakashi shrugged, he dips into the ashtray against the wall where the condiments are. He drags the smoking end of a cigarette through the ashes already coating the flat, burned through, dish.

"You have beautiful eyes, I'm certain you're a quick learner and maybe you'll change your mind about working as a gal. You've got the face for it, the body however, could use some fattening-"

You roll your eyes.

"Fat chance, is this normally how you recruit employees?"

He twisted his lips, a jointless hand dragging a few tendrils of silver to the back of his head.

"From time to time but you're the first one I've ever taken out to lunch, think about that."

You cross your arms over your chest and contemplate for a moment, making sure nothing seems off about it.

"I will, think about it."

You know you're talking about the job and you know you have nothing to think about. You needed to take it, you just weren't sure what it would entail. For some reason, you couldn't help to feel like you were making a deal with the devil but Kakashi was nothing like the devil. He was all smiles and business transactions.

No one had ever fed you, no one had ever looked you over and saw that you hadn't been eating. People passed you by every day like you were more ghost than human. Sometimes you felt like no one would miss you if you just slipped away.

"Take all the time you need kitten. Good things come to those who wait and you're a good thing, I can feel it."