(tick tick tick)
Sakura glanced at the clock hung on the wall for what was surely the sixth time in the past four minutes. It ticked out each passing second with steady indifference, the black arrows and numbers stark against its pale white face. A shadow obscured the one, seven, and eight in a dark slash over its surface, but it mattered not at all to her – she only cared about the short stub that drifted, slowly, past the visible four. The longer line that moved more quickly to the six.
In two minutes, it would be half past four in the morning. Half past four.
(tick tick tick tick)
It was significant only because it was unexpected. Unanticipated...Which meant something was wrong. Something was wrong that should never, ever be wrong, and the anxiety struck her to the core. Under different circumstances, there would've been no cause for concern. But now...Now, there was only one explanation for it. One possibility.
Calamity.
That was what made it so terrible. Not the fact of the thing, but the reason...
...Because it was half past four, and she had yet to hear from Naruto.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know why.
(tick tick tick tick tick)
When he'd left at five in what was now yesterday's afternoon, he promised he'd be back before eleven. Before she had time to worry about him, as he knew she was prone to do. He walked out the door of the modest apartment she shared with him wearing his black-orange suit and a reassuring grin, waving and laughing and swearing that he'd be back before she knew he was gone.
She returned his smile. She nodded and told him that she would be just fine. She told him to go have fun, despite her misgivings about the company he departed with...
Kiba's visits to the bar had become too frequent for her continued comfort, and Ino was even worse.
(tick tick tick tick tick tick)
Sakura twisted the ring on her finger, glancing between it and the uncaring clock.
The small circlet was perfect – small enough to be invisible beneath her gloves, but beautiful enough to make her stare in wonder nearly every time she saw it. Diamonds, set deep in a ribbon of white gold so they wouldn't catch on anything. The words 'forever and a day' engraved on the inside in curling, elegant script...
It was a glittering, priceless band of beauty that he'd presented to her on one knee.
She still wondered, sometimes, where he managed to find the money to pay for it. The only conclusion she could ever come to was that he must have been saving up for a very, very long time.
(tick tick tick tick tick tick tick)
Turning her eyes to the clock, she stared at it and desperately hoped that he would come home soon, and safe.
(tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick ti-)
Thwump.
She jumped, nearly falling out of the chair she'd been perched upon the edge of so uneasily. The sound – loud, unexpected, unanticipated – had shocked her, and she scrambled to gather her scattered senses. It seemed that her mind, which had been pulled so harshly out of its silent reverie, was rebelling, refusing to cooperate. She was incoherent. Being severely sleep deprived helped not at all.
(what was—?)
The door. It came from the door.
Sakura leapt to her feet, the chair skidding over the hardwood flooring and her hip thumping into the table she'd been seated beside. She paid the bruising throb no mind in the midst of her rush to reach the door and whatever was behind it. Her thoughts were a flurry of prayers that everything was okay, that he wasn't hurt, or—
THWUMP.
This sound was heavier than the first, and she paused with her hand hovering over the knob.
(what—?)
Laughter. A rough, baritone rumble, a tenor snicker, and a pealing soprano giggle.
Confusion flickered over her face.
She knew those voices.
Before she could think it over, before she could rationalize the situation, Sakura had yanked open the door. The hinges squealed in protest.
She'd expected many things to be waiting for her in the hallway outside their apartment – this was not one of them.
Naruto was there. Kiba, too. And Ino.
Kiba's coat was gone, and his netted shirt had holes in it. There was a damp, splattered stain over what remained of his clothes, darkening the black fabric – she could smell the thick, sweet tang of alcohol that came off of him from where she stood in the doorway. His brown hair stuck out in every direction, even more mussed than usual, and his headband was gone. His tongue refused to stay still, scudding incessantly over his teeth. His clawed fingers twitched. Clearly, he had energy to burn.
Ino wasn't in much better shape than he was. Her clothes hung loosely off of her body, the skirt too low and the shirt too high. The netting on her knees was torn, and one of the two that were typically on her elbows was missing. Her hair was tucked behind her ear, the ponytail let down in a fashion uncharacteristic of her. Kiba's black coat was slung over her bare shoulders, the sleeves hanging limp and empty beside her, much too long for her arms. She, too, stank of drink.
Sakura felt physically ill when she looked at Naruto.
The black-orange overcoat was unzipped, and nearly slipping off of one shoulder. Beneath, his chest was bare, his skin glistening with some filmy mixture of sweat and alcohol, the scent of which she caught more strongly than Kiba's. The waistband of his pants hung off of his hips, and his grey boxers were easily visible above it, as well as through the undone fly. The bandage that typically wound around his thigh was missing. His headband – for one – was still present, though it was tied hastily around his neck in a fashion too careless to have been done by him. The blonde spikes of his hair were sticky and damp, clumping together, clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck. His blue eyes were glazed, clouded, hooded.
He regarded her silently, tilting his head to the side as though wondering where she'd come from. Blunt confusion flickered over his face. Then, Ino let loose a high-pitched cackle, and his stupor was broken. He grinned, then sniggered, then burst out laughing. Kiba chuckled, his deep voice contrasting sharply with Ino's shrill tittering.
Sakura could only stare, horrified.
"N-Naru...Naruto...? What are you—"
"Nuh-nuh-Naru-tooooo." Ino keened, flinging a dramatic arm over her forehead in a malicious mockery of the expression on Sakura's face. "Oh, Naruto. What's going on, my dearest of dears? I'm so very confused my love—" The performance was ruined when she snorted and burst into a fit of giggles. Again, Naruto laughed with her.
"—Naruto, oh Naruto..." Ino, recovering, flung her arms around Naruto's neck and hung there. He continued to chuckle. "Wherefore art thou, Naruto...?"
Sakura's growing impression that this had to be some kind of cruel, repulsive nightmare was completed by the sight of Ino's tongue slipping out of the pink cavity of her mouth to run over Naruto's collarbone, tracing its way up his neck to the curve of his jaw, where her lips latched onto his ear. He shuddered, and Sakura looked at his face expecting – praying for – disgust...only to see he shivered not in loathing, but rather in pleasure at her unprecedented advances. The lopsided grin that pasted itself on his lips was happy in a thick, sluggish, stupid sort of way.
Her stomach lurched. She could feel the blood draining from her face, paling her.
(oh god no no no no please no please)
"He-ey..." Her eyes flickered to life when he spoke, the blank horror dissipating. "Sak'ra." He pushed a pouting, disgruntled Ino off of him, and Sakura brightened. Maybe, just maybe, he was coming to his senses, and—
Whatever hope she might've felt was lost when he slung his arm heavily over her shoulder. His breath, when he spoke, reeked of sake.
"I bin drinkin' with some friends, Sa...Sak-" He frowned, concentrating, and tried again. "...Sak'ra." He grinned widely at Kiba, winking. However, the grin disappeared when he tensed, his bare stomach contracting. His cheeks puffed out, and for a moment, she thought he was going to puke. Until he let loose a belch that had Kiba falling against the wall, crowing, and Ino crinkling her nose in disgust.
"Naruto, you're drunk." Sakura murmured, trying without much enthusiasm to push away his arm.
"Aw, dun' be like that, Sak'ra..." Naruto's tongue swiped over his lips, much like Kiba's had, and he pulled her closer. She was abruptly pressed against his chest, her hands jammed between them. She could feel his skin, sticky and slick against her arms. "How 'bout a little kiss, huh?"
"No, Naruto. You—mph-!" Her protest was muffled beneath his lips. Suddenly, his tongue was in her mouth, searching, running slickly over the back of her teeth. The heady odor of alcohol filled her nose and polluted her mouth, and she struggled in the crush of his arms. When one of his hands dropped down to fiddle with the hem of her shirt, she stiffened.
Chakra gathered in her palms. A brief pause, and then she shoved him away; he flew back against the wall. The plaster cracked where he rammed into it.
"I said no, Naruto!" She snarled, swiping the back of her wrist over her mouth to rid her lips of his sour spit.
"Muh...mmn..." Naruto, dazed, tried to struggle to his feet. His shoes scudded over the carpet, and he was only halfway standing before he slumped into the broken wall.
When the blonde-haired girl moved to help him, Sakura hissed with all of the venom of an enraged viper. "Back off, Ino. Don't even think about touching him again, you bitch."
"Hey, hey. No need to get all pissy, Sakura..." A hand on her shoulder, sliding down her back. She twisted around to look at its owner.
"Get your fucking hand off of me, bastard." She snarled, raising her fisted hand.
Kiba wasn't the least bit perturbed by her subtle threat. "Oh, this ain't my fucking hand..." Hegrinned, baring inhumanly sharp, white teeth. His hand slid down further, no longer on her back.
A moment later, his smile was neatly shattered by the fist that slammed into his jaw. The force of it carried him into the wall, and there was a hollow, papery crunch. Somewhere behind them, Ino screamed. Frantic barking drifted through the window at the end of the hallway.
Sakura, glowering at Kiba, made a mental note to apologize to the landlady. She'd have to pay damage costs later.
"Kiba!"
She looked over her shoulder at a shrill whine. Her lips twisted unflatteringly when she spotted Ino, her pupil-less eyes locked on the groaning Inuzuka. She took a step forward, but faltered – Sakura still stood between them, creating a barrier that simply breathed loathing and violence.
Ino balked at the look on her old friend's face.
"Sa...Sakura...We were just...just joking, you know...Joking—" She stuttered, smiling weakly and unconvincingly.
"You call this a joke?"
"Well...well, no, not all of it, but—"
"You're sick." Sakura spat, her knuckles whitening as her fingers curled more and more tightly against each other. "Absolutely disgusting. And you-!" She turned on Kiba where he had stumbled to his feet and now stood, still and silent, bewildered. He jerked, clearly terrified by the prospect of facing her again. "Why don't you just get your ass the fuck out of here? Both of you! I never want to see your faces again!"
The pair wasted no time latching onto each other and darting down the hallway as quickly and efficiently as their unsteady legs would carry them. The result was three stumbles and one face plant before they vanished from sight, skittering around the corner and thudding noisily down the stairs.
Sakura turned back to the man who had married her – the man who, clearly, was still a boy. He'd crumpled in a heap where he'd fallen.
He was drunk.
Slammed.
Hammered.
Shit-faced.
Wasted.
And any other possible word for the effect of the Devil's Urine.
"Sa...Sak'ra..." He muttered, and his blue eyes fluttered. "Whass' goin' on...? Where's Ino—hrk-" His question was cut off when she yanked him up by the collar, dragging him inside and slamming the door behind them. There was the pitched buzz of trembling light fixtures as the force of it shook the apartment. She fumbled with the lock, her fingers trembling, while Naruto fought to get his feet under him.
"That whore is gone, you fucking bastard." She growled, flinging him onto the floor. He landed with a heavy thud, followed shortly by a groan. "And what's going on is that you're about to have the fucking shit beat out of you. Capisce?"
"Naw...What-" His confused protest was interrupted when he yelped, tumbling and skidding until he thumped into the couch on the other side of the room; she'd kicked him.
"Get it now?" He fumbled for the edge of the couch, trying to pull himself up, while she strode deliberately across the room. "Does it all make sense now, you fucking son of a bitch?" Her fingers clamped around his damp, clumped hair, and she yanked his head back so he could see her face. The flush on his cheeks was thinning as the beating slowly sobered him. "How dare you come back here like this! How dare you!"
He barely had time to look terrified before she'd slammed him down into the floor, her knee digging into the dip between his shoulder blades. One hand pressed his cheek into the floor beneath. The pressure only increased when he moaned.
"You will never, ever do something like this ever- fucking- again!" She thundered, digging her nails into the shoulder her roughing-up had bared. "Ever!" She gripped him brutally, accenting her words, and felt the skin split. Something warm and wet pooled around her fingertips.
"Sa-Sak'ra-" He whimpered, and she could see a damp glisten on his bruised cheek in the scant glow of the streetlight outside.
"My name is Sakura! SA-KU-RA!" She almost screamed it, her voice cracking.
"Sa-ku-ra..." He pronounced it with the unfamiliar caution of a stranger, learning the sound of each syllable as though he'd never heard them, as though her name had not passed his lips countless times before.
(drunk)
(for the love of god he's drunk)
In one smooth motion, she flung him onto his back, his shoulders smacking against the floor with a solid whack of bone against wood. Her knee, temporarily displaced, jammed into his stomach, effectively winding him. He gasped and gagged, somewhere between trying to breathe and trying not to vomit.
"Fuck you, Naruto Uzumaki!" It was a broken howl, and the fist she pounded into the side of his face – easily enough to slam him sideways onto the floorboards – was driven by her agony, fueled by her anger.
She yanked him up by the front of his coat, his head lolling on his neck. A second blow knocked him back down in the other direction, a splat of blood darkening the floorboards. The sound of his skull striking the floor was a sharp, heavy crack in the still air of the living room.
This time, Sakura didn't pull him back for more, and he didn't move. The only indication he was still alive was the meager rise and fall of his chest.
"Fuck you!" Sakura hiccupped, the taught lines of her anger slackening. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you..."
Her mantra of curses descended into sobs.
-----XXX-----
This was inspired by the song A Gentleman Caller, by Cursive.)