KokuoXFuma

	Fuma and her beast both lay acrosss the couch, engrossed in watching the television. It was a channel about history, it was currently playing something on the history of the Ninja World. It was a boring history lecture, and it didn't even cover some important things, and reeked of bias. In some of the history books and old journals Fuma had found and read, there was more information, and was simply a better account of things. Being friends with the Hokage and her affiliation with Turtle Island and Jinchuuriki selection allowed her to a lot more secret information on the village, something she enjoyed. Their past was checkered, but it was inspiring.  Absentmindedly, Fuma scratched Kokuo's back, as she laid behind him. He didn't mind it. Rolling over onto his back, he peered up at the cieling, while Fuma's hands found their  way to his belly.
	"Aw. Now you want belly rubs?" Kokuo rolled his eyes, with a snort.
	"Normally, I am fine with it. I prefer we do it alone, it is embarrassing to do it with an audience. We were already intruded on before." The Jinchuuriki giggled, rubbing the beast's belly some more. He sighed in relaxation, enjoying the massage. He couldn't ever scratch himself, so this was enjoyable and relieving. The touch of his beloved Jinchuuriki was pleasurable as well.
	"No tongue sticking out? Do I need to speed up?" Not waiting for an answer, she sped up the playful massage of the beast. He looked straight at her as she furiously stroked him, he truly looked at her. She was smiling, her eyes squinting, with a playful glint dancing inside of them. Her eyes were green. She had thin lips wreathed into a warm and glee filled grin. She had dimples. Her hair was green, and short, like a tomboys. She was a picture of delecate beauty. The word "cute" wouldn't suffice, she would probably kick him for it. She had a slight inner complex about being short. The word "cute" wasn't in her league anyways. He couldn't think of any calibre of words to describe her. The closest things he could imagine were heavenly, amazing, beautiful, jaw-dropping. And, it was clear to Kokuo that he was in love.
	He had been there with her for a long time. He saw her mature. He grieved with her when she lost people. He read with her, and no matter how fast he tried to go, he would always keep her waiting when it came time to turn the page. She was brilliant, and had an undying thirst for knowledge. Even though she would act odd and goofy, she was deep down a dedicated field worker. He truly loved this girl. When he thought of her, nothing else mattered. Her dreams were his dreams. Her wishes were his command. Her happiness was his way of life. Fuma was what Kokuo truly loved most.
	"What," he began, getting her attention, "would you think if I were a human?" Her eyes darted away for a brief moment. She put her index and middle finger to her lips, a sign of her thinking. The gesture was fast, and she lowered her hands entirely, perhaps this was something that didn't require much thought. Or perhaps she had already thought about this before.
	"I don't know. Would you like being one," she replied. She looked back at Kokuo. It was like a game, talking with her. She was always keeping the pressure up on you, and you always had to be ready. If you weren't, improvise. Kokuo didn't expect her to ask a question.
	"Would you like me to be one?" He kept the pressure up. He was playing well so far. Of course, she had a counterstrategy.
	"Are you trying to impress me?" She was candid. She probably knew where he was going with this. But he wasn't about to forfeit.
	"Would you be happy if I were a human?" He was equally candid. It seems she was picking off his armor.
	"Maybe. Why don't we test it?" Kokuo was surprised. She went exactly where he wanted her to go. He wanted her to turn him into a human. Weaving handsigns for him wasn't easy. Performing transformations without hands would be hard.
	"Yes, let's." Fuma gestured to the beast to stand. He rolled off the couch, standing up. She stood up as well, and weaved a handsign. She touched his forehead, and the jutsu took effect. There was a pop, and a puff of smoke. When it cleared, Kokuo looked over himself. He was indeed in human shape. And naked. "It worked," he stated, in joy. He looked down at his hands, in joy and curiousity. However, Fuma had a much different reaction. It sounded like a squeal, but much more frustrated and confusing. Her face was covered. He was confused by this. Then he looked down, and saw the problem. "Oh." He looked around for something to cover himself with. He picked up a pillow from the couch, and sat down, setting it on his lap.
	"Guh... That was... I don't even," she stammered.
	"Don't worry, you can look now," he assured her. She uncovered her face, glancing at him, but only covered her face again. He realized the pillow only covered part of himself. His thighs and more were still visible.
	"Anyways, uh," she began, her voice was quivering in embarrassment. He hadn't seen her this embarrassed before. It was charming. "Do you want me to get you some clothes?" Kokuo nodded. In a moment, she was already gone. Within Akito's bedroom, Fuma was digging around, looking for something for her beast to wear. She found a ninja vest, and cotton leggings. Begrudgingly, she also fished out undergarments. Returning to the beast, or man, she figured it would be more appropriate to call him a man at this point. He was still sitting on the couch. She offered him the clothing, and looked away as he took them. There was rustling.
	"You can look now, my Jinchuuriki." Kokuo's voice had remained the same, suave, soft, yet masculine and powerful. He was eloquent, and affectionate with his Jinchuuriki, whom he loved. Fuma turned and looked at the now clothed Kokuo. He was tall. Very tall. Fuma stood a measly 5'5, while he stood much taller, much more than a head taller than her. He wasn't skinny, but he wasn't bulky. His muscles were well defined, and his legs were filled in, and musculur, this was apparent through the cotton. She still had to fight a blush. His face was well defined as well, and he was cute. The red part under his eyes had remained. His eyes were the same color. His hair was white, and short. Parts of his hair were still up, to represent the horns. The tips were brown. While she checked him out, he posed, in a joking attempt to look sexy. "Like what you see," he prodded.
	"Uh... Yeah, kinda..." Fat lie. It wasn't kinda. It was a lot.
	"Mm." Fuma couldn't think of anything to say. Kokuo took it on himself to relieve the awkward silence of duty. "Want to see if anything is on," he asked her. She nodded, sitting on the couch. The white-haired plopped onto the couch next to her. He looked at her. She returned the gaze, only to break it, to start channel surfing. While she was preoccupied with searching, he gazed at her. She seemed tense. Slowly, and unsurely, he draped his arm around her. She tensed up.
	"Uh... Uhm..." She was obviously nervous.
	"This is how you humans show affection, right? Casually." Fuma nodded, and settled into his arm. She leaned against him, resting on him, staring at the TV. Kokuo stared down at her. Feeling his breath on her head, she looked up at him.
	"Why're you staring?"
	"You are much better to stare at then the television." She blushed, giggling. He smiled, watching her.
	"You flirt."
	"Is that a bad thing? I mean, is it even flirting? You just have so many good things about you to talk about." His tone was joking, and affectionate.
	"You flirt." She was still giggling, her tiny body shaking Kokuo's own. It filled him with joy to hear her laughter. It was light and splendid, like the song of an angel.
	"Ah, you..." He rested his head on her own, as she snuggled into his chest.
	"You," she parroted, with her own affection.
	"I really love you, you know that, right?"
	"Heh... I love me t-too," her joke was cut off by more laughter. Kokuo snuggled his Jinchuuriki closely, his eyes closed in bliss, caught in the rapture of this one moment. Confessing his love was a success, it seemed. Perhaps because she already knew he wanted to. Just like he knew she intentionally transformed him naked. That little perverted angel, he thought.