Standard Disclaimer applied.


Sometimes I wonder what could've happened if I just left well enough alone. I mean, my life would probably be way more normal and easier. But I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to. It's like my body goes on auto-pilot and saves the day or something. Now look at what I've gotten into:

"SAV-MART ROBBERY FOILED BY FALLING LAMP POST"

Really. The lamp post I was leaning on at the time just so happens to tip and fall on those two thieves when they exited the grocery shop. It has no relation to me whatsoever. Seriously. What normal person has the power to make a nineteen foot tall electric lamp post fall on command? Fictional superheroes with ungodly superpowers that's self-appointed to protect the city, that's who. Not a measly five foot two junior high school student. It's just a big fat coincidence. Superheroes, pft. They're as real as unicorns.

I throw the newspaper in the trash and pick up the book I was formerly reading. It's no Pride & Prejudice or Wuthering Heights because, frankly, all those books make me writhe in righteous indignation. The book I'm reading is a self-help book that I happened to stumble on in the library—101 Ways to Snag the Man of Your Dreams. It's pathetic, I know. But, hey, what have I got to lose, right? To be honest, I kind of feel silly referring to a book to solve my romantic life or lack of it.

As I was beginning to read Tip No. Eighty Nine, I hear a familiar heartbeat and the clicketty-clacketty-clack of her stilettos coming in. She tries to sneak up behind the couch I was sitting on. Usually, I give her a chance to let her creep up on me just to be polite. But I'm not feeling so generous at the moment. So as my best friend, Ino Yamanaka, tries to slink behind me, I turn around and give her a look. Looking sheepish and frustrated at the same time, she stamps her stilettoed foot.

"Aww, darn! How did you know I was coming from behind?" Ino shoots me an aggravated look, walks around the couch and stops right in front of me.

I don't tell her that I already knew she was coming when she was still at the foyer of the dorm. Instead, I point to her shoes. She looked down to her feet and her mouth forms an 'O' of acknowledgement. Not entirely a lie. Just a half-truth.

Ino shrugs off in a manner that says 'Oh well.' "What are you reading?" She plucks the book off my hands and reads the title. "Really, Sakura? Another self-help book?" She made a very unladylike noise when she opened it to the first page. "You know, these kinds of books aren't really reliable. It's probably written by one of those obnoxious psychologists who think they know everything 'cause the know what hormones makes us fall in lust or something." She adds while tossing the book on the coffee table and walks over to the vending machine to get some caffeine. I take the book and slip it in my sling bag. She then goes on about how I should just throw myself in the dating game more, just act natural, be me and stop being such a dork about it. This is where I tune myself out. I, instead, evaluate my best friend.

Ino Yamanaka, self-proclaimed Queen of the Press. She's an aspiring journalist—or was it reporter? Anyway, she's editor-in-chief of the school paper and an intern at the local news station. Platinum blond hair, ocean blue eyes, an imposing personality, a passion for hardcore news and an aura that exudes that confident look-at-me-listen-to-me vibe. You can see why she was immediately accepted on the internship. It also kind of makes me wonder how in the world we became the best of friends. It's probably because I'm immune to her perfection charms that regular people see. For instance, she's always poised and calm when it's all business-y but when we're like hanging out she's a total dork and a major drama queen.

"Sakura, are you listening to me?" Ino waves a hand in front of my face.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I shake my head to clear it of my internal reverie.

"God, you are impossible." She groans. "I said, let's get going."

I picked up my sling bag and hurried after Ino outside the Entertainment Room—a.k.a. E Room or E.R. We piled on her car and exited the academy.

Ino and I are juniors at Konoha Private Academy, better known as KPA. It's a boarding school where the parents dump their children because they need a vacation from parenting. Sarcastically speaking. Well… not really. It doesn't bother me. I'm an orphan since I was eight and my legal guardian wanted to lock up the pink-haired freak at that asylum disguised as a school.

Ahem.

Again. It doesn't bother me much.

But, hey, there could be worse things that could happen, right?

KPA's campus is divided into three. West are the dormitories; east is the recreational arena—that is where the E Room is located. That's where the games, TV's and other entertainment stuff are.—north is the academic-related and south are the gates and the parking lot.

I look over at Ino behind the wheel. Ino's a student here in KPA because her parents are at war. Literally. They're deciding over a divorce, so, she got sent here on account of her parents not wanting her to witness their frequent fights.

Here on KPA where "students are exercised to pursue their inner growth and promote their welfare," the juniors and seniors are allowed to leave campus grounds on Friday afternoons and weekends. It's a Friday afternoon, school hours just ended and we're headed to God knows where. I turn on the radio and Britney Spears fills the car.

You'll probably want to know a description of me, don't cha?

Well, I'm not giving you those "she had piercing blue eyes and a heaving milk white bosom blah blah blah" or "she hated her frizzy hair and fat ankles blah blah blah." First of all, it's boring. Second, it's irritating how in books it seems like the only two choices are perfection or self-hatred. As if readers will only like a character that's ideal—or completely shattered.

Please. Give me a break.

So, I hereby give you Sakura Haruno's Five Ideal Qualities and Five Which I Justifiably Hate.

1. Pink hair and green eyes / Flat chested. Well, not really. Just a paltry cup A.

2. Good muscle tone / Lack of normal teenage height

3. Reasonably unhairy body / Inability to attract the opposite sex in that way

4. Witty, charming / Propensity to babble in nervous-making situations

5. Possess superpowers / Tendency to supersuck

oOo

We enter Grounded, a street café, two blocks from the academy. I head straight to the counter to order while Ino finds us a seat.

Mmm. Barista Boy looks fine.

"Good afternoon. What'll it be?" He asks.

I look at the menu just above his head. Just to stall for a minute. Then I order. I remember Tip No. Thirty Two from 101 Ways to Snag the Man of Your Dreams: "Dazzle him with your pearly whites." So, I flash him a huge smile. I also remember Tip No. Forty Three "Silence is golden but not after four seconds. Interrupt it by offering him something. Ex: 'Would you like some nuts?'"

One. He types in my order.

Two. He calls to the back with my order.

Three. Say something, Sakura!

Four. I grab the first thing I land my hands on which are, sadly, a box of ground coffee beans.

"Would you like some?" I offer. He looks at me weirdly. Alright, awkward moment. Barista Boy chuckles nervously. "I-I mean," I stutter. "Would you like some coffee sometime?" Oh, God. Where's a trap door when you need one? I hastily set down the box like it was toxic sludge.

"I still have to work." He said and turns red.

"After your shift then?" Lay off, Sakura. I hear his heartbeat quicken.

"I, uh, have other plans." He scratches the back of his head. His heartbeat picks up more which goes to show that what he just said was obviously a lie. Smooth, Sak, real smooth.

"I get it." I nod dismissively. First time I put the book into use and I end up feeling like the biggest embarrassment to humankind. Somebody please shoot me now. In order to salvage my dignity, I hand him my payment silently. No more, no less. No tips for you, Barista Boy! God, I am such a mean person. He hands me my change and gives me an apologetic smile. As if I need your smile of apology. Take your Apology Smile and shove it! Gah.

I grudgingly go to sit with Ino.

"What's up with you?" She cocks her head to the side questioningly as I plomp down to the seat across her.

"Nothing." I shrug. My expression must've showed my perpetual disdain at Barista Boy since she dropped the subject like a hot potato.

"Right." She gives me a skeptical look. "Whatever." She rolls her eyes and focuses on her Blackberry.

I follow suit. I flip open my phone. It's a Nokia N97mini. Amazeballs. The last phone I had, a pink C5 of the same brand, fell at the bottom of Naruto Uzumaki's house pool. I had to save the money I earned from every part-time job I came across to buy a new one of my choice. Well, Ino's probably getting endless messages from her extracurricular friends or something. Though I have no idea how she manages to handle it since she basically keeps partying and stuff. I, on the other hand, have to play Diner Dash so I'd look like I'm busy and all important.

Minutes later, our orders arrived. Black coffee—with lots of sugar—and butterscotch cookie for me and mochaccino and blueberry muffin for Ino. Ino's theory for her Winter Ball diet is that if she drinks her energy smoothie for breakfast and eats salad for lunch then she could reward herself with dessert as a snack. If you ask me, it's a load of poop.

"Naruto and Sasuke are coming over." Ino murmurs casually without looking away from her Blackberry.

I, however, did not let the news pass by so casually. I take a full swig of my caffeine which is scalding hot. It almost made me spit it out. But I didn't. Yay! It's nice to know that there's at least one part in my life that I could control without making myself come out as such an inept young female.

"Wh-What?" I stutter for the second time in a day. Just so you know I'm not really a stutterfly. Until today, apparently. "Why?" I add. But before Ino could answer, I hear the familiar chatter of two boys entering Grounded. I glare at Ino. "You are evil."

She winks at me mischievously and waves at Naruto.

In frantic despair, I nibble on my cookie and listen at the conversation the boys were having.

I mean, eavesdrop.

"I swear, Teme, you shoulda seen the look in his face!"

A deep rumble from Naruto's companion which I think is Sasuke's way of laughing. Hm. Sasuke and 'laughing' do not go in the same sentence.

"Man, hurry up and order. I'll join Sakura-chan and Ino-chan over there."

Naruto bounds his way to us and leaves Sasuke behind.

"Ladies." Naruto greets with his pimp voice and sits beside me. I smile at him, still nibbling at my butterscotch cookie. Ino waves at him and sips on her beverage. And here begins the endless banter of Naruto Uzumaki—all around friendly face, constant party host and head of the Welcoming Committee—and Ino Yamanaka. Two blond and blue eyed people with the same amount of liberated thoughts and incessant talent for babbling, their arguments always contradict and at the same time coincide with each other.

There was one time when they argued about which would taste better ramen or noodles. Their argument lasted for a day which went round and round. Ino's stand was that noodles were quite healthy and that the soup could be substituted for caffeine —another one of Ino's theories that are even sillier than her Winter Ball diet. I also think that this is a load of poop. I mean, hello! Nothing can substitute for caffeine. Nothing.— while Naruto's was that ramen was awesome and could own noodles in any time of the day.

Anyway, when their idle chitchat starts this is where I begin tuning out. Instead, I listen to the sounds surrounding us but only I could hear like it's happening right behind me.

The ticking of a clock from an apartment across the street. The flush of a toilet. The lines from a movie—You talking to me? The boiling of water. The whispers of two girls sharing secrets across the café.

One sound intrigued me though. It's a conversation. An interesting one at that. A man and a woman.

"Tell me where it is." He says.

"I will never tell you." She says.

Slap. "Stubborn little thing, yeah."

"We could do this all day, you know."

"We certainly can. Tell. Me. Where. It. Is." Every pause constituted a slap.

Silence from the woman for a few seconds. I think, she spat. "Screw you."

"Tell me where the damned emblem is—" A heavy irritated sigh.

A sound of a door opening. Two pairs of footsteps. One heavy, one staggering. A gasp of air. "Mommy!" A sob. I think it's a kid!

"Tell me where the emblem is or your little boy gets it, yeah."

I stood up abruptly, butterscotch cookie still in my hand. I didn't notice Sasuke just approached. I guess he just finished ordering. His blank gaze connected with my startled one.

"Hey, Sakura. You OK?" Ino tugged my pinkie finger.

Oh great. This was my chance to put the 101 Ways I learned to snag Sasuke—man that spends a lot of time in my head—and here comes duty calls. Fantastic.

Sometimes having superpowers super sucked.

"I'll be right back." I croaked. "I just need to use the restroom." Not a lie. I am going to use the CR, I need to pee then I'm gonna slip out.

"I'll come with you." Ino proceeded to stand up.

"No!" I cried and pushed Ino back to her seat. Way to go, Sak. You're on your way to becoming the greatest loser that ever lived. "I mean," I said, regaining composure. "No. I need the restroom to myself for awhile. Just in case it'd get messy."

Did I just say 'just in case it'd get messy' in front of Sasuke Uchiha? Oh. My. God. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

Ino is giving me the crazy eye. Naruto's turning red and Sasuke's still looking blank but with a hint of mock amusement. I am seriously thinking about digging a hole in the café floor and burying myself right then and there. I laugh breezily, you know, for Sasuke, but it sounded more like a donkey's whinny.

"Did you just… whinny, Saku-chan?" Naruto pointed.

Instead of answering him, I just dashed to the ladies room.

oOo

After successfully locating where the conversation came from and rushing there—which is in the downtown historical museum, I have perched myself at the rooftop. I can perfectly see what's happening below through the skylight. Judging from what I'm seeing—and hearing, there's an estimate of 12 hostages and 20 bad guys. There could be more. I already placed an anonymous tip for Konoha's Finest. They should be here any minute.

From my previous attempt at foiling a robbery—that resulted being in the front page of every national newspaper, I plan to lay low. I promise myself that I won't interfere. I'll just keep an eye on things. I promise. I promise. I promise.

Alright, fine!

I promise I won't interfere until things get out of hand.

I tied my hair in a loose bun and wore a beanie because I might be identified by my pink hair in the newspapers. They'll probably give me a superhero name or something. The last thing I need is being christened Pink Blur or Pink Rage or some other mortifying title.

"Let him go." It's the lady I heard from before. God, her face is bruised and battered. That's gonna leave a mark that can't be concealed by Clinique. I shudder and pull my windbreaker closer. She's tied to a chair—or should I say a throne fit for a king.

"Not until you tell us where the emblem is, yeah." The man who hit her said.

The lady doesn't speak. She just closes her eyes and her jaw hardens.

What the hell is an emblem anyway?

Red and blue lights flash on the starry sky. Oh, Konoha's Finest has just arrived. They could handle this.

A thug barged in the hall where the man, the woman and the other hostages are held and cursed. "It's the cops!"

The man's lips curled into an expression of animosity.

"Intruders inside the building! Let go of your hostages and surrender quietly." A cop announced through the megaphone in front of the museum. It's like the scene from Angels & Demons outside the Vatican minus the religion. There're probably several squad cars on standby out there and fourteen police officers—judging from their pulses.

Man, its cold out here for early October.

I zip my windbreaker up all the way. Thank God, I wore jeans too.

In a minute, they'll probably call in the SWAT team. Eugh. I never liked those boys. They think they own the place and they bark orders to the cops when the KPD so obviously got there first! I mean, I may not be an expert with how the authority tree works but I do know that the cops 'round here are good people. They gave me doughnuts once when the school entrusted me to pick up Kiba Inuzuka from the precinct, his charges—indecent exposure. So, yeah, I'll stick with the guys from Konoha Police Department, thank you very much. They're my boys, my homeys. We're on the down low or whatever.

Well, I better get out of here before I get caught snooping around.

That wasn't so bad. I didn't take the matter to my own hands. That's the job of the authorities. That's why there're brave men and women like them to protect the city. They can handle it, I'm sure. They certainly don't need a pink-haired teenager that can't scrounge up the courage to reacquaint herself to the one that she lusts after to save the city.

I walk to the edge of the rooftop, preparing myself to jump and feeling good about fulfilling my promise to myself.

It's time for me to—

"Activate the bombs. We'll blow this place up." The man says.

—save Konoha.


Author's Note: Like I said on my newly published story, Ma Cherie (Goreaditlikenow. Shameless plug, heh.), there will be a sudden surge of stories in the next few days. The stories stored on my hard drive—the ones that have never seen the light of day—shall come to life and, of course, will be hungry for reviews.

I got my inspiration for this story from a book, Prom Nights From Hell, and Hancock. I just love SUPERS.

Don't forget to review now. Suggestions, criticisms, and what-not shall be taken into consideration. Don't worry, I won't bite. :)