Chapter 339: Cherry Blossoms in the Night
The village was quieter now, wrapped in the cool calm of night. Lanterns flickered along the streets, casting warm pools of amber light that seemed to sigh with relief after the madness of the day. Malik and Sakura walked side by side, both tired, though Malik's stride carried that familiar swagger—the kind that said he'd been through divine flirtations, ramen duels, and still had enough energy to tease someone to death.
Sakura, on the other hand, was visibly drained. Her shoulders sagged slightly beneath her cloak, her hands buried in her sleeves as though even her chakra reserves needed a nap.
The night air nipped at Sakura's cheeks, and Malik, ever attuned to her comfort, shifted closer. His arm brushed hers, then slid down gently to take her hand. His fingers were warm—unnaturally so, thanks to the soft pulse of magic that radiated from his skin. A subtle pink glow with flecks of gold shimmered between their palms, wrapping around her hand like a silken glove of heat.
Sakura blinked, surprised, then relaxed into the warmth. Malik didn't say anything at first. He just held her hand, thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles, letting the magic do its work.
Then, with a voice like velvet dipped in mischief, he leaned in and murmured, "You know, if I had known winter would make you this cuddly, I'd have scheduled more snowstorms."
Sakura rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "You don't schedule weather, Malik."
"I schedule moments," he replied smoothly. "And this one's perfect."
Before she could respond, he tilted his head and stole a kiss—a quick, soft peck on her lips. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to make her heart skip once. She didn't pull away. In fact, she leaned in, returning the kiss with a quiet sigh, her forehead resting briefly against his.
"Warmth and charm," she whispered. "You really are dangerous."
"Only to your defenses," he said, grinning.
Malik glanced at her out of the corner of his deep, hot pink-and-gold eyes. "So… your place or mine?"
Sakura gave him a side look, her lips twitching upward just barely. "Mine. I actually have paperwork to finish at the hospital. You forget I do more than chase after you and your nonsense."
Malik clutched his chest dramatically. "Paperwork? At this hour? You wound me. I was hoping for a romantic collapse into bed, followed by your soft snores and maybe me drooling on your hair."
She snorted softly, shaking her head. "We'll see. But yes—my place. After the hospital."
Malik grinned, snapped his fingers, and pink-gold sparks curled around them both. Their forms blurred, dissolved, and vanished entirely into the air—invisibility, neat and straightforward.
"Now for transport," he murmured.
He raised his hand, and from the shimmering ether and air around Malik's chest came GrubGrub. But tonight, the creature wasn't its usual glowing ball self. No—tonight it unfolded into a magnificent dragonfly-like beast, its translucent wings veined in gold, its segmented body shimmering with pink light. Its antennae glowed like lanterns, and its carapace bore faint floral patterns that pulsed with gentle warmth.
"Behold," Malik announced with flourish, "your royal steed."
Sakura eyed the glowing bug-dragonfly with tired skepticism. "…It's very pink."
"Exactly," Malik said proudly.
They climbed onto GrubGrub's back, Malik settling behind her. The dragonfly's wings buzzed once, twice, and then they were airborne—slipping quietly above the rooftops, invisible to the villagers below, their path lit by the soft golden shimmer of GrubGrub's body.
The night air was cool, fresh against their faces. Sakura let out a quiet sigh, leaning back just slightly into Malik's chest.
"You're tired," Malik observed, his voice gentler now.
"No kidding," she muttered.
He smiled, then reached up and began kneading her shoulders with practiced hands—slow circles, firm but gentle pressure, easing the tight knots along her neck. Sakura stiffened at first, then melted almost instantly, her head dipping forward as a quiet, pleased hum escaped her lips.
"Mmmm…"
Malik leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "See? You keep me around for more than my dashing looks and superior cooking. My massages are legendary. Worthy of their own epic ballad."
Her lips curled faintly upward. "Don't flatter yourself. …But yes. This is nice."
"I'll give you a full-body one when we get back to your room," Malik promised, his tone rich with mischief. "Work out all that tension. Head to toe."
Sakura made another soft, pleased hum, too tired to scold him for once.
Malik's grin widened. "…And you can sit on my face afterward."
She stiffened. He didn't stop massaging.
Sakura turned her head slightly, catching his smug expression with narrowed green eyes. "…You're really going to ruin a perfectly good moment, aren't you?"
Malik looked utterly unrepentant. "I'm just saying. You've had a long day. I've had a long day. Why not unwind in style?"
Sakura rolled her eyes, but she didn't smack him. Not this time.
Instead, she let out a tired laugh—small, reluctant, but real. "You've been a good boy today, Malik. Maybe… just maybe… I'll think about it."
Malik's heart did a little victory drum solo in his chest, though he wisely kept his mouth shut this time.
They flew on in silence after that, the city lights twinkling below, the air crisp around them. Sakura leaned a little heavier against him, her warmth seeping through her cloak, her trust evident in the way she finally closed her eyes and let him carry the moment.
Malik smiled softly, pressing a kiss into her hair, and whispered, "Worth every trial."
Later, as they soared above the rooftops on GrubGrub's back, the city lights twinkling below like scattered stars, Sakura leaned fully into Malik's chest. She didn't fall asleep, but she got close—her body heavy with fatigue, her mind lulled by the rhythm of flight and the steady beat of Malik's heart beneath her ear.
Without a word, Malik summoned a blanket from the air—soft, plush, and infused with gentle warming magic. He wrapped it around them both, tucking it around her shoulders and pulling her closer into his arms. The cover smelled faintly of fresh, warm cinnamon, and it made the cold vanish entirely.
Sakura sighed again, deeper this time, her body sinking into the comfort. She fought the pull of sleep, blinking slowly, her thoughts drifting.
And then she noticed it.
Malik's chest—his stomach, his arms. He wasn't as soft as he used to be. Still warm, still familiar, but… leaner. Firmer. Had he lost more weight?
She frowned slightly, not in disapproval, but in curiosity. Malik had always liked being soft. He wore it like a badge of indulgence, a celebration of comfort and magic and good food. But lately… with all the divine trials, the temple rituals, the constant movement…
He's still Malik, she thought. Still lazy in spirit, but always moving. Always doing. Always carrying more than he lets on.
She nestled closer, letting her hand rest against his chest, feeling the subtle shift in muscle beneath the silk. Her fiancé. Her chaos. Her warmth.
And tonight?
Her blanket.
Her pillow.
Her peace.
Malik didn't say anything. He just held her tighter, his magic pulsing gently around them, and let her rest.
The cherry blossoms hadn't bloomed yet.
But the night was full of promise.
=====Later that night========
The moment they stepped into Sakura's bedroom, the weight of the day seemed to press down even harder.
The room was warm, lit by the soft glow of a single lantern that cast long shadows across the tatami mats covering part of her wooden floor.
The scent of cherry blossoms—subtle, sweet, and faintly medicinal—lingered in the air, a remnant of the incense Sakura often burned after long shifts at the hospital. The bed was already made up, a habit of hers in an early morning routine, the blankets turned down in preparation for sleep, but Malik had other plans.
Sakura barely had time to kick off her shoes before Malik's hands were on her again, this time with intent. He guided her toward the bed with a gentle but firm touch, his fingers already working at the ties of her cloak. The fabric pooled at her feet within a few short moments, leaving her in nothing but her standard mission attire: a fitted, high-collared top that hugged her torso and a pair of snug, flexible pants designed for movement. The material was worn soft from use, clinging to her in all the right ways.
"Sit," Malik murmured, pressing lightly on her shoulders until she obeyed, perched on the edge of the mid-sized bed. He knelt behind her, his hands finding the nape of her neck, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles there. Sakura let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her body sagging forward just slightly as his fingers worked their magic.
"You're so tense," Malik observed, his voice a low, approving hum. "Good thing you've got me."
Sakura huffed a laugh, but it dissolved into a moan as his thumbs dug into the knots along her spine. "Mmm—don't get cocky," she managed, though her words lacked any heat or malice. She was too busy melting under his touch, her body yielding to the slow, deliberate pressure of his hands.
Malik didn't rush. He took his time, tracing the lines of her shoulders, the dip of her spine, the flare of her hips. His fingers were warm, his touch confident, mapping out every inch of her with the precision of someone who had memorized her long ago. The fabric of her top was thin, and he could feel the heat of her skin beneath it, the way her muscles twitched and relaxed under his touch.
"You know," he said conversationally, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear, "I've always loved how strong you are. The way your body moves—like you're always ready. Even when you're exhausted."
Sakura shivered, though whether from his words or his touch, she couldn't say. "Flattery won't get you anywhere," she lied.
Malik chuckled, his hands sliding down to the hem of her top. "Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" His fingers hooked under the fabric, lifting it just enough to expose the smooth, pale skin of her lower back. "But since we're here…"
He didn't wait for permission. With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled the top up and over her head, tossing it aside. Sakura didn't stop him. She was too busy enjoying the way his hands skimmed over her ribs, the way his thumbs brushed the undersides of her arms before moving to the clasp of her bra. The garment joined the growing pile of discarded clothing, leaving her upper body bare.
Sakura's breasts were small, almost flat against her chest, but perky, the nipples long and dark pink, already tightening under the cool air—and Malik's gaze. He didn't grope, didn't squeeze. Instead, he cupped them gently, his thumbs circling the sensitive peaks, coaxing them to hardness. Sakura's breath hitched, her back arching slightly as pleasure sparked through her.
"Sensitive," Malik murmured, more to himself than to her. His fingers teased, pinching just enough to make her gasp, then soothing the sting with slow, lazy strokes. "You like that, don't you?"
Sakura bit her lip, her fingers curling into the fabric beneath her. "Malik—"
"Shh." His mouth replaced his hands, his lips wrapping around one nipple, his tongue flicking over the tip. Sakura's breath came faster, her body tensing as heat pooled low in her belly. Malik took his time, lavishing attention on first one breast, then the other, his free hand sliding down to rest on her stomach, his fingers splaying possessively over her skin.
"You're so responsive," he praised, his voice muffled against her skin. "I love how easy it is to make you feel good."
Sakura's only answer was a whimper as his teeth grazed her nipple, the sharp edge of pleasure making her hips jerk forward. Malik's hand on her stomach tightened, holding her in place as he worked her over, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue swirling in slow, maddening patterns. She could feel the ache building between her thighs, her body growing heavier, warmer, her mind fogging with need.
"Malik, I—" Her voice broke as his fingers finally dipped lower, tracing the waistband of her pants. "You're still dressed."
"Mmm." He nipped at her collarbone, his hands already working at the fastenings of her pants. "I like the view better this way."
The pants joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her underwear—simple, practical white and gray cotton, damp now with arousal. Malik's hands slid over the curve of her hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband before dragging the fabric down her legs. Sakura lifted her hips to help, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as the cool air hit her exposed skin.
And then she was naked.
Malik took a moment to look.
Sakura's body was a study in contrasts—lean and toned from years of training, but soft in all the right places. Her ass was magnificent—round, full, and heavy, the kind that made his hands itch to grip, to squeeze, to watch it bounce as he fucked her from behind. Her thighs were thick, powerful, the muscles defined but still feminine, leading down to the thick, meaty lips of her pussy, already glistening with arousal. And above it all, a wild, dense bush of dark pink pubic hair, thicker and fuller than he remembered, a testament to the time she'd spent away from the razor. It was glorious—untamed, natural, hers.
"Damn," Malik breathed, his voice rough with want. "You're perfect."
Sakura's cheeks flushed, but she didn't cover herself. Instead, she turned her head, catching his gaze with a challenge in her green eyes. "You going to just look, or are you going to do something about it?"
Malik grinned, all teeth. "Oh, I'm definitely going to do something about it."
His hands found her thighs first, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he urged her to spread her legs. Sakura obeyed, her breath hitching as the cool air hit her wet, swollen lips. Malik didn't touch her there—not yet. Instead, he leaned in, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, his tongue dragging along the sensitive skin.
"First," he murmured, his breath ghosting over her, "I'm going to make you cum just from your tits."
Sakura's eyes widened. "You—what?"
Malik didn't answer. He just went back to work, his mouth sealing over one nipple, his fingers rolling the other between them. He sucked, hard and rhythmic, his tongue flicking in time with the slow, deliberate strokes of his hand. Sakura's back arched, her fingers tangling in his hair as pleasure coiled tight in her belly.
"Malik, I can't—" Her words dissolved into a broken moan as his teeth grazed her nipple, the sharp edge of pain sending her spiraling. Her hips jerked, her thighs trembling as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her, her body clenching around nothing, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Good girl," Malik praised, his voice a dark purr. He lapped at the sweat beading on her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her ass, his fingers kneading the thick, bouncy flesh. "Now this…" His thumbs spread her cheeks, exposing her fully, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin. "This is where you're really sensitive, isn't it?"
Sakura whimpered, her body still trembling from her first release. "Malik, please—"
He didn't make her beg for long.
His mouth found her ass first, his tongue dragging along the sensitive skin just above her entrance. Sakura jolted, a shocked gasp tearing from her throat as pleasure arced through her, sharp and unexpected. Malik chuckled, the vibration making her squirm.
"That's it," he murmured, his lips brushing over her. "You like that, don't you? When I touch you here?"
His fingers replaced his mouth, tracing slow, teasing circles around her puckered hole, never quite touching where she needed him most. Sakura's hips rocked, her body seeking more, needing more.
"Malik, no teasing—"
His tongue finally dipped lower, dragging through her thick, wet lips, tasting her arousal, her musk, the dark, earthy flavor of her. Sakura cried out, her fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue found her clit, swirling in slow, deliberate patterns that had her seeing stars.
"You taste amazing," Malik growled against her, his fingers finally slipping inside her, curling just right to make her gasp. "So very wet for me."
Sakura couldn't form words. She could only feel—the heat of his mouth, the press of his fingers, the way her body responded to his every touch. When his thumb finally pressed against her ass, teasing the tight ring of muscle, she came apart with a broken cry, her body clenching around his fingers, her release crashing over her in waves.
Malik didn't stop. He kept licking, kept touching, drawing out every last shudder until Sakura was a boneless, trembling mess beneath him. Only then did he pull back, pressing a final, lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh before sitting back on his heels, his cock straining against his pants, his eyes dark with hunger.
Sakura's chest heaved, her skin slick with sweat, her body still humming with aftershocks. She reached for him, her fingers fumbling with the fastenings of his pants.
Malik caught her wrist, his grip gentle but firm. "Not yet."
Sakura blinked up at him, her mind foggy with pleasure. "What?"
Malik's smile was slow, wicked. "I said I'd make you cum. I didn't say I was done."
And with that, he pushed her back onto the bed, his hands already finding her hips, his mouth descending once more.
Sakura moaned, her body arching into his touch, ready for whatever he had in store for her next.
== the next morning --
Sakura stirred first.
Her eyelashes fluttered against the morning dim, the faintest golden-blue glow slipping through the paper screens. For an instant, her mind snapped awake with the ingrained habits of a kunoichi: hospital shifts, Tsunade's brutal training schedule, missions. Panic almost rose to her chest—until memory caught up.
She had two whole days off.
Her body eased, sinking back into the warmth surrounding her. Not blankets. Not pillows. But heat. Steady, rhythmic, alive. Malik.
He was still in her bed.
The memory of last night flushed through her in fragmented waves: laughter tangled with whispered words, the kind of closeness that left her skin tingling even now, and a slow-burning passion that had stretched long into the night until exhaustion had finally claimed them both. Naked, tangled, and utterly spent.
She turned her head slightly, green eyes tracing the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath the blankets. Even asleep, his aura clung to him, golden-pink light almost shimmering like breath across his skin. She barely moved, and yet she felt it—his consciousness stirring, pulled awake by the weight of her gaze.
Malik shifted, stretching like a cat beneath the covers, his curls falling into his face. He didn't open his eyes, but a sly smile curved his lips. His hand rose blindly, pressing gently over her eyes.
"Your pretty green eyes shouldn't be allowed to stare at me this early in the morning," he murmured, voice warm and teasing.
Sakura gave a tiny huff of laughter. "Shut up."
He chuckled, moved his hand away, and cracked his eyes open fully—gold, with only the faintest swirl of hot pink flickering in the edges. She reached for him instinctively, cupping his face in her hands, pulling him close so she could look. Her thumb brushed along his cheekbone, her stare deep, lingering.
"Gold," she whispered.
"Sometimes," he replied, softer now.
For a while, they just held one another's gaze. But inevitably, Malik swung his legs over the bed, rising with the easy energy of someone who could never stay still for long. Sakura sighed quietly, watching his back as he stood and wove his magic.
Clothes flowed onto him in layers of pink and gold, silk-like and seamless, as though the air itself wanted him dressed.
"Of course," she muttered under her breath, "already leaving again."
Malik smiled faintly, his back still turned, but her thoughts had been loud enough in their bond. "I'll only be gone a little while."
She groaned into the pillow, then sat up, still naked, hair spilling around her shoulders. If he wanted to look, fine—let him. He would sometimes look away, acting as if it were a crime to even look at her naked body. She padded over to the closet and began pulling on a soft top and shorts, rolling her eyes when she noticed him watching her in the mirror.
"You're awake before sunrise because of me," she said pointedly, tugging her shorts into place.
"Cruel," Malik muttered, shaking his head dramatically. "Downright cruel. You know I hate early mornings."
"Mmhm," she replied, smirking faintly, tugging on her shirt. "And yet, here you are. Awake. Alive. Somehow not dead."
He flopped back onto her bed with theatrical suffering, lounging with his arms crossed behind his head as if he'd done something monumental. "Unbelievable strength of will, really. Trapped between the terrifying forces of your naked body and my own need for sleep… yet I survived."
She snorted, refusing to let him see how her lips twitched upward.
When she turned to grab her hair tie, his voice softened unexpectedly.
"So," Malik said, eyes following her every move. "What do you want to do today? If you want to spend time with your horrible and loving fiancé, I'll allow it."
Sakura froze for a second, looking over her shoulder with suspicion. "You're actually free today?"
He gave a little shrug. "I've got to handle something in, oh… five minutes. Won't take more than an hour. After that, I'm all yours."
Her heart gave a tiny skip. She tried not to show it, but it slipped into her voice anyway when she answered. "All mine?"
"All yours," Malik promised.
Sakura tilted her head, considering. Then she smiled—an actual, soft smile—and started listing things off.
"Breakfast. Together. At my favorite tea shop. Then maybe a walk along the river path—you're always talking about how you like the bridges there. After that, we can help me reorganize my apartment, because you still leave your books everywhere. And then—" she smirked at him now, "—training. You owe me sparring practice. No excuses."
Malik grinned. "Done. All of it."
Her eyes softened, her smile lingering longer than she meant it to. She didn't say anything else. She didn't need to.
Malik stood and moved to her window, sliding it open. The cold air rushed in, brushing over them both. He turned back, gave her one last smile—the kind of smile that reminded her, against her will, why she'd fallen for him.
"Wait for me," he said simply.
Then, with a flicker of pink-gold light, he was gone.
Out into the dark.
Leaving her with the first sunrise of her two free days… and the weight of anticipation warming her chest.