Saccharin『 yandere o.shots』(Requests: OPEN)

Kakashi Hatake Ⓜ️, ☣️

red light district, kabuki/sex worker reader. if there is any historical inaccuracy blame it on chakra. yes i will use japanese term, i never got to write naruto ff so let me have this.

ps: if there is any depressing language regarding reader's current job or actions, it is solely because of the unsafe work environment and the debt slavery that comes with working at the red-light district in this death-infested universe. i lit write smut as a hobby dw lmao

---

at first, you believed it was simply considered a coincidence--- very well timed, but still a coincidence, after all correlation does not always mean causation.

and usually, these coincidences came in the form of small, but very convenient things. say, your hair isn't cooperating with you? you find a bobby pin wedged between floorboards, a few ryū short on something you want to buy? you find a couple on the ground, 

then it progressed, like a wallet on the ground, straight-out-of-the-package brushes discarded on the hallway, the leftovers seems more plenty and fresh than before.

then finally, it payed off, you finally got to confront your... guardian angel.

your manicured fingers shoved themselves under one of the many layers under your clothes, curling around a wad of ryū that was hidden between fabric, a thumb flicking through them like one browsing a magazine, separating coins from paper.

2.570 ryū. enough for one meal but not...

you pulled your drawer open with force, makeup brushes, 'found' hair-pins, packages of face powder, they all clatter against the walls of the box with force, except for one thing, who heavily slid to the front of the drawer.

your hand clasped around the rectangular can of candy, the original lid rendered obsolete as you opened it like an actual tin of preserves, shoving in the crinkled paper into the piggy-bank sakuma.

you sighed to yourself, but not enough for it to clear your debt.

you stared at yourself in the mirror, bright-red kumadori lines framing your face until it took the form of another's. you grabbed the fabric of your striped sleeves, slowly wiping away the makeup haphazardly.

"and i thought y'all slept with it on." a voice drawled out, a tone so 'lax it almost managed to keep you from instinctively flinching.

from the corner of your eye, you saw silver spiky (like it was raised by static) hair, a black mask that covered the lower face--- and the most interesting, konohagakure hitai-ate that kept a singular eye shut.

it's not unusual for shinobi to request services in the district, specially under all the stress they usually shoulder, they tend to be usually either very receptive or really... 'receptive'.

usually the dynamics would be the customer doing all the work but, poor things would get overwhelmed or fall back into obedience-mode way too easily--- and they'd often wouldn't get the stress release they were after, it was cute at first but made your job harder than it needed to be. and that's saying a lot.

"that's because we usually sleep with company," when did this one get in? usually there's a reservation, where you'd be notified in advance, though you're not the most popular, it's still uncommon for them to request for something so last minute.

"do you need anything---" you were about to continue, when suddenly you saw a pouch of ryū fall against the mat-ed floor, it was a lot, too much all at once for your managers to let you keep as a tip.

"maa, whats with that face? it's all for you, it's a gift, from yours truly."

you raised yourself to your feet in disbelief, then slowly began to walk towards him, your footsteps muffled by the tatami before standing in front of the masked man. you stared at him again, you recognize his... face from looking over the shoulder of a very dulled shinobi's bingo book.