Haruka had the day off from the Academy, a rare break from Minato's competitive jabs and the teachers' endless drills. He stood in the backyard of their house, the morning sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the grass. Sora was inside, probably sketching or fussing over her garden, but he could feel her presence like a quiet hum in his chest. Today, though, was about his power. He needed to push it, see what it could really do.
The Quincy System—or whatever he was calling it in his head—felt like a second heartbeat. Chakra, not Reishi, but shaped with that sharp, Quincy precision. He closed his eyes, letting the cool energy pool in his veins. The system pinged, a faint screen flickering in his vision: **Hirenkyaku: 85% mastery. Blut: 60% mastery. New synergy available: Wind Jutsu Integration.**
"Alright," Haruka muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Let's play."
He started with Hirenkyaku, his body blurring as he darted across the yard. It wasn't just speed—it was control, like skating on air. He weaved between trees, leaving faint ripples of chakra in his wake. Faster. Sharper. He pushed harder, and for a split second, his feet left the ground, hovering an inch above the grass. His heart raced. *Flight.* Not quite there, but close.
Next, he tried the bow. He summoned it with a thought, chakra coalescing into a sleek, invisible arc in his hands. No arrows today—just raw chakra bolts, small and deadly. He aimed at a wooden target he'd set up, firing three in quick succession. They hit dead center, splintering the wood with a satisfying *crack*. But he wasn't done. He tapped into one of his parents' scrolls, a wind jutsu he'd been studying. Channeling it through the bow, he fired again. This time, the bolt screamed through the air, wrapped in a vortex of wind that shredded the target into sawdust.
Haruka grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Okay, that's badass."
The system pinged again: **Wind Jutsu Synergy Unlocked: Tempest Bolt. Damage increased by 40%.** He could work with that. His power was starting to feel like an extension of himself, not just a cheat code. But it wasn't enough. Konoha's wars were coming, and he needed to be ready—for Sora, for himself, for the legacy their ANBU parents left behind.
He spent hours out there, mixing taijutsu with Hirenkyaku, testing Blut's defensive boost against his own chakra bolts. By noon, he was drenched in sweat, his silver hair plastered to his forehead. The yard looked like a warzone—scorched grass, shattered targets, and a few trees with suspicious new dents.
"Haruka!" Sora's voice cut through his focus. He turned to see her leaning against the back door, arms crossed, a playful smirk on her lips. Her silver hair glinted in the sunlight, and her gray eyes sparkled with that quiet fire that always made his stomach flip. "You're gonna destroy the whole yard at this rate."
He laughed, letting his power fade as he jogged over. "Gotta keep up with Minato somehow. Guy's probably inventing a new jutsu as we speak."
Sora rolled her eyes, stepping closer. "You're already a show-off. Don't need to try so hard." Her hand brushed his arm, soft but deliberate, sending a jolt through him. "Come inside. You look like you need a break."
He followed her in, the cool shade of the house a relief after hours in the sun. They ended up in the living room, Sora pulling him onto the couch with a tug. She was close—too close, in the best way. Her fingers traced the edge of his sleeve, her touch light but electric.
"You're gonna be unstoppable, you know," she said, her voice soft. "I see you out there, tearing it up. It's… kinda hot."
Haruka's cheeks burned, but he leaned into it, smirking. "Oh, yeah? You into the sweaty ninja look now?"
"Shut up," she laughed, shoving him lightly. But her eyes locked on his, and the air shifted, heavy with that unspoken thing between them. They'd crossed a line already, and there was no going back. Not that he wanted to.
He slid a hand to her waist, pulling her closer. "You're gonna get me in trouble, Sora," he murmured, his voice low.
"Good," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "I like trouble."
That was it. He kissed her, slow at first, savoring the way she melted against him. Her hands found his hair, tugging gently, and the kiss deepened, all heat and need. They stumbled through the house, laughing between kisses, until they reached his room. The bed creaked as they fell onto it, Sora's legs tangling with his.
Her fingers traced his jaw, her eyes searching his. "You're mine, Haruka," she said, fierce and quiet. "No matter what happens out there."
"Always," he promised, his hand cupping her face. Then he kissed her again, passionate and unyielding, like the world could burn and he wouldn't care. Her lips were fire, her touch a lifeline
The afternoon light had softened to a warm gold, spilling across the rumpled sheets where Haruka and Sora lay, their breaths still uneven from the fire of their earlier passion. The air was thick with the scent of them, and Haruka's fingers lingered on Sora's waist, tracing lazy circles as she pressed herself closer, her silver hair splayed across his chest. The kiss they'd shared had been a spark, but the heat between them was a blaze, unyielding and hungry.
"You're gonna be the death of me," Haruka said, his voice low, a grin tugging at his lips despite the way his heart still pounded.
Sora lifted her head, her gray eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and something deeper, something that made his pulse race. "Good. You'd be boring otherwise." She leaned up, kissing his jaw, her lips soft but deliberate. Then she slid off the bed, her movements graceful, teasing. "Come on, you're still a mess from training. Bath time."
Haruka's grin widened, his eyes tracking her. "You calling me dirty?"
"I'm saying you need to clean up," she shot back, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk that promised trouble. "Unless you're too tired to keep up."
He laughed, already on his feet. "Oh, you're asking for it now."
They moved through the house, hands brushing, stealing quick kisses that left them both breathless. The bathroom was small, the wooden tub a relic from their ANBU parents' days, but it felt like theirs tonight. Sora twisted the faucet, steam rising as hot water filled the tub, curling into the air like a secret. Haruka leaned against the doorframe, watching her—every move, every glance, a reminder of why he'd fight the world for her. She was his sister.
Sora caught his stare and smirked, slipping out of her clothes with a slow, deliberate grace that made his throat tight. Her pale skin glowed in the dim light, and she stepped into the tub, the water rippling around her. "You just gonna stand there?" she teased, holding out a hand.
Haruka didn't bother with words. He shed his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers, and joined her in the tub. The water was hot, enveloping them as they sank down, their bodies pressed tight in the small space. Sora's legs tangled with his, her hands sliding up his chest, leaving trails of heat that had nothing to do with the bath. He pulled her closer, her hips settling over his, the water lapping at their skin.
"You're trouble," he murmured, his lips grazing her ear, his hands firm on her hips.
"You love it," she whispered, her voice a sultry challenge. She kissed him, hard and deep, her fingers knotting in his silver hair. The kiss was a fuse, igniting everything they'd been holding back. Haruka's hands roamed, exploring her curves, the slick warmth of her skin under the water. Sora's breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, and the world shrank to just them—no Academy, no wars, no system pings. Just this.
The heat built, raw and urgent. Sora's nails dug into his shoulders as she moved against him, her lips parting in a soft moan. "Haruka," she gasped, her voice a plea that snapped something in him. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, every inch he could reach, his hands guiding her hips. The water sloshed, spilling over the tub's edge, but neither of them cared. This was beyond restraint, beyond the rules of a village that would never understand. He was her brother and Sora was his, in every way that mattered.
She pressed herself closer, her movements desperate, and Haruka met her with the same raw need. The tub was a crucible, their bodies locked together, water splashing as they gave in completely. It was messy, intense, a collision of desire and defiance. Sora's gasps turned to cries, her hands clutching him like he was her lifeline. Haruka's own breath was ragged, his mind blank except for her—the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she claimed him as much as he claimed her.
When they reached their peak, it was like a storm breaking—shattering, overwhelming, leaving them trembling in each other's arms. The water stilled, steam curling around them as they clung together, breathless and spent. Sora's head rested against his chest, her fingers tracing slow patterns on his skin. Haruka held her close, his lips brushing her temple, the Quincy System's faint ping—**Chakra surge detected. Stability: 89%**—barely registering.
"We're gonna make it," Sora whispered, her voice soft but fierce, like she was daring the world to try and stop them.
Haruka tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. "Let them try to keep us apart. I'll tear it all down for you."
She smiled, a spark of defiance in her gaze, and kissed him again, softer this time but no less certain. They stayed there, wrapped in each other.