"Mizaki, we're planning on closing up for the night." He sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. Seven past three. He was supposed to have been home an hour ago.

"Right. Long night."

His boss smiled, the lines in his face seeming harder tonight. "Aren't they all?" His chair squeaked as he leaned back, protesting the small movement. "You're going to have to kick her out."

Mizaki continued examining the face of the clock. Seconds, he thought, Seem so unnecessary. "Yeah."

"We can't lock up until everyone's out." He raised an eyebrow, aware of Mizaki's reluctance. "Listen," he said, voice low, "I know this is hard for you – I would do it myself if..."

"Oh, no, no, I understand. I'm just the employee." He held his hands up, shoulders hunched in supplication. "You can fire me, but if she held any of this against you-"

"Mizaki. You know it's not like that."

The sad part was, Mizaki did know the real reason, and felt the same sadness in his heart as his employer. "I know." He fell silent, looking down at the ground and examining the legs of the desk before finally moving. "I'll take care of everything."

"Thanks." His boss leaned forward, pen moving across paper in the inscrutable records of his establishment as Mizaki left the back-room. The young man ran a hand through his short-cropped brown hair, wishing yet again he understood what drove people to end up here, drowning in distilled liquors. Especially not when they were as well known as the young woman he was having to throw out for the night. He didn't want to ponder on what the lives of the kunoichi and shinobi did to them, to leave them so ruined so young.

Mizaki could only assume her profession had been the reason for her slide.

"Miss Haruno... I'm sorry, but we're closing for the night. You're going to have to leave. Miss Haruno?"

The young woman groaned, her head cradled on her arm, resting on the table. Her free hand still clutched at an empty glass; tonight had been worse than usual. "Wha--?"

He half-smiled, his shoulder's slumping in something similar to relief. "We're closing. You need to go home."

Sakura's head came up, and she stared at Mizaki, blinking in confusion for a moment as the words sunk through her haze. "Oh – Oh – Oh yes, I'm so sorry, I -" she half babbled, remarkably coherent for having been binging through the night. She still slurred, but he understood her easily enough. "I think I must have dozed off-"

"Maybe," he offered. "Do you need a hand, Miss?"

She shook her head, sliding out the end of the narrow booth and using the table to help her stand. "No, no, 's all good, 's all good," she mumbled, bringing the glass with her. Mizaki coughed politely, looking at her hand, and she belatedly realized why. "Uh, here! Your glass. Forgot I had it there, for a second. Heh," she said, smiling even as she leaned against the table with her hip for support. "Now, where's that door I came in from?" Sakura looked around, seeming bewildered. "Swear the door keeps moving on me-"

"Right over here, Miss Haruno." Mizaki offered his arm, but she refused him.

"Nice to treat me like a lady, but I can make it, thank you." She mustered what dignity she had to slowly stagger out to the street, pausing to clutch some stable, unmoving object along the way. Mizaki followed her, smiling pleasantly and attempting to keep up a one-sided banter as the young woman navigated her way to the door. "Thank you, Mister -" she squinted her eyes, "Mazuki?"

"Mizaki, Miss."

"Ahh." She nodded. "I remember. Mizaki. Thank you, Mr. Mizaki. You have a good night, you hear?" She eyed the wall of coats, fumbling for her own and pulling it on over the half-undone over-shirt she wore when working shifts at the hospital. "Looks cold out." She lurched toward the door.

"Er, Miss..."

"Yes?" She turned, her eyes shining briefly with unstated hope. Maybe...

Mizaki coughed again, eying her wrist. "Your wristband-"

She lifted her arm, looking at her wrist and swallowing. Sakura had forgotten about this little detail. The chakra bracelet had a dull sheen, as if sticky – had something spilled on the metal tonight? "Right. Right! Thank you for reminding me." She stuck her wrist out, a peace offering and plea. Mizaki pulled out a key from his pocket, dangling with the rest on the chain. She was silent as he worked the lock, anticipating the infinitesimal sound of the latch unhooking.

"There you go." She rubbed her wrist, feeling almost a surge of chakra following as burning pins and needles through her system. Her face brightened, the fog clearing somewhat as she met Mizaki's eyes for the first time that evening.

"Thanks. Goodnight, Mr. Mizaki." Sakura turned, pushing out through the door. The little bells tied to the handle rang out, the only sound as she stepped into the cold Konoha night. Not even voices reached out here.

She shivered, making her increasingly steadier way home. Shit. What time was it? She looked up, seeing the moon setting over the trees. Late, and she needed to report bright and early tomorrow. Or did she? No, she decided, Only if the team gets in a day early. She had tomorrow off, then. Or so she hoped, fumbling through her pockets for her keys some two blocks away from her apartment.

Sakura had a feeling she would have a headache in the morning.