Title: In'youwagou
Fandom/Community: Naruto / 50scenes
Prompt: Table 2: #49 – Listen
Pairing: Hatake Kakashi x Haruno Sakura (slight NaruSasu? xD)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Kishimoto-sensei owns. Inspired by Tears of the Sea and Bloody Tears, by angelreich, on devArt.
(http://angelreich.deviant /art/ Tears-Of-The-Sea-64573442 and http://angelreich.deviant /art/ Bloody-Tears-52986069 )
Summary: It doesn't matter that his glass is always half-empty. Hers is full enough for the both of them.

Author Notes: Merely something that came to my thoughts while trying to sift through whether I wanted to have a certain scene in Chapter V of Picture Trends. I find myself with far too many ideas for stories and not enough time to write them all. I thought of like three more today. It's crazy. Unbeted as posting this, because I'm pretty darn sure Nami is asleep right now. And I hate having to wait to post things. Might as well get something up to soothe people until I can finish PT. xD

In'youwagou, according to my rather credible Japanese translation website, means "the harmony of yin and yang energies."

Iriai means "sunset", so thus, we'll allow ourselves to believe that Iriaigakure means "Village Hidden in the Sunset".

I put this under Romance only. Mainly because I wanted it to be known that the point of it is Sakura and Kakashi. But it technically could have been put under humour, and I seriously considered it—as my mind works in mysterious ways at 2 o'clock in the morning and interjects humour into things that aren't supposed to have it.


She thought the ocean looked insignificant, the sunset merely inconsequential, compared to the man sitting silently a short way away. It was almost hard to pay attention to them, give their beauty enough credit, with the ninja in such close quarters.

Does he know he looks as lasting as the ocean he stands before? Does he know that he looks just as beautiful?

He can probably feel her eyes on him, but it's been a while since she'd cared.

"Sakya-chyyn? Ah Mrrrshmmmllooow?"

Interrupted, the young woman turns to glance at the blond, his cerulean eyes opened wide. Naruto has at least three of the fluffy, sticky treats already crammed into his mouth, and it's more the fact that she can't understand what he's asking her that causes her to notice.

Sakura permits a small smile to grace her features, eyebrows delicately knitted together as she gives him a pitying glance. "Sure, Naruto-kun," she replies softly, taking the stick from his hand. "Thank you."

He swallows before he replies—a huge gulp that causes her to watch the bulge move in his throat—eyes crinkling happily at the corners. "It's fun, doing this," he asks, slipping another marshmallow onto his stick. Without looking, he pushes it over the crackling fire, his eyes still on her. "I can't believe Baa-san gave us such an easy mission."

"She must have known that we needed some down-time," the pink-haired kunoichi murmurs, pulling her slightly sizzling marshmallow to her mouth and taking a small bite. She still gets some of the burnt skin-like residue stuck on her lips, and she licks amusedly at it as she speaks. "Iriaikagure really is all they say about it. I never thought it could be this pretty."

She laughs when Naruto finally notices that his marshmallow has long since caught fire. He lets go of his stick, tossing it into the flames. Looking around their blanket, he locates another and slings another marshmallow onto it. "I've never been to an actual beach before," he muses, putting his new stick directly into the flames.

"Don't stick it directly in—that's why yours always burn." Sakura reaches over and tugs his arm so that the stick hovers over the flames instead. "Really? I've only been to one once, and that was a long time ago."

Naruto smiles. "Tell me about it."

"I really don't remember most of it, only the sound of the sea." She sets her stick on the ground, brushing sand from her skirt. "I think I was six at the time. My parents took me, I think, because they hoped that I would chance my mind on wanting to become a ninja." Her smile is bittersweet and she shakes her head sadly. "I don't think they understood how fascinated I was with the whole shinobi life. They also tried buying me things."

He hugs her then, loosely and with one arm, as he bites into his well-toasted marshmallow. "I'm glad you became a ninja, Sakura-chan," he offers, his laugh echoing along the empty beach. "If not, then you wouldn't be here."

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she whispers, kneeling now. "I'm glad I became a ninja too."

Naruto laughs again, this time slinging his arm around the silent Uchiha sitting on his other side, hands folded, elbows upon his knees as he stares into the fire. The dark-haired young man glances at him, his face slightly pinched into a disgruntled look; but he makes no motion to remove the arm from his person. Sakura almost wants to smile. Sai glances at them suspiciously from his spot on the other blanket—on the other side of the fire. As the boy begins to attempt to try and feed Sasuke a marshmallow—and Sai watches (seemly uninterested)—she draws herself—unnoticed—away.

She watches him as she walks to him.

Like her staring, she knows that he must sense her—it's something else that has never crossed her mind to bother her. He's known her in and outs long enough to understand the fluctuation. It's because he's sitting away from everyone else that she's compelled to watch him—if you were ignoring all the other reasons that she finds to gravitate towards him.

He's the center of her world as of late, and she's inclined to keep it that way.

Iriaigakure is famous for its beaches, the beautiful sunsets that take place along the shoreline—even inland.

She's wondered about coming here ever since she was a child of six and her parents had taken her to the beach. Her mother used to tell her the story of her great uncle, who'd supposed had his ashes mixed in with the sand. Ino had once said that she wanted to get married on one of the beaches. (At the time, it was to Sasuke, but times like that change.)

She can't find it in herself to pay attention to the way the sky is painted when he's standing—so near now.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, Sakura?" he says, and she amazed that he has even deigned to speak. She'd merely approached hi side so that she could sit and bask in the beauty—his and the sunset and the ocean.

Her feet now slosh in the outgoing tide. He sits on the tallest of a cluster of three rocks, his feet drawn up against the rock so as not to dampen. His head turns slightly to the side, and she can see that he's removed his hitai-ate. The red eye, black tomoe stationary, creases slowly as he takes her forthcoming form into view.

The smile on her face is obvious, she thinks.

Sakura nods her head, settling herself on the rock to his left, peering up at him interestedly. "It is. It's like God's painting." She tilts her head to the side and smiles mischievously; pink lips forming a perfect cupid's bow. "I never took you for a sunset-watcher, Kakashi. Guess I learn new things about you all the time."

"I don't normally get to see the sunset," he explains, not looking at her now.

She purses her perfect lips. "That's because you're always on missions. You never get to enjoy anything."

"I enjoy now."

Kakashi glances at her fully, head tilted to the side, a strange expression upon his masked face. She's seen a similar looks upon Shikamaru's countenance when faced with a difficult shougi move. It's a look that makes her skin flush, though it's nearly unnoticeable under the already bloody light from the red sky.

When he doesn't look away, she kicks her feet against the receding surf, bringing up small clumps of damp sand.

"You're ruining the picture," complains Kakashi teasingly. His mask raises slightly in the places she knows are at the corners of his mouth—she can almost picture the smirk in her head.

Sakura snorts equally playfully. "What picture? It's sand."

"Look."

He points to the ocean at her feet. Not understand the idea, she watches the ocean slid in quietly—she shivers involuntarily, all too aware of the chilling coolness against her bare skin. And then, equally quiet, the ocean ebbs backwards, dragging sand and coral with it. Drawing long, swirling and curling patterns mixed with sea-green foam and sand. Her head raises, and she glances at Kakashi, who's let his arm drop, and now gazes back out at the ocean.

"The tides," he explains, still not looking at her. "They're the tear-paths of the ocean. If Mother Earth is already in love with Father Time, then what does the ocean have left to love? It cries silently, and then grows disappointed with itself, so it washes away its tears, only to cry more. The ocean, even in its beauty, is lonely."

The pink-haired young woman stares, green eyes wide in shock. "That's. . . really depressing, Kakashi."

The man turns, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Is that so?" His eyes crease happily. "I never thought about it that way. It was a story that my mother used to tell me."

Quietly, Sakura gets to her feet in the water, and then moves her feet to stand on the rock. Kakashi turns slightly to the side, observing her. She leans forward, bracing her stomach partially against his shoulder. Her hands slip over his face, covering his eyes, and she watches with amusement—and a little simmering pleasure—as the man's mask quirks once again, smiling at her antics.

"Listen," she instructs softly, allowing her own lids to slide close over her eyes. "Hear that?"

Besides the sound of the shifting surf, a few lingering seagulls ki'ya loudly overhead, their cries echoing over the vast sea.

He nods almost imperceptibly, cautious to make sure the moment does not shake her hands from his face. She pauses, freezing for a full minute, allowing the silence to wash over them. She breathes him in—his scent in her nose, warmth against her skin; the overwhelming calmness that his presence seems to bring her soul.

Then, after the moment passes, she opens her eyes and smiles down at him as her hands move from his eyes to his shoulders. He glances up at her from the corner of his eyes, the same small, quiet smile playing on his face.

"That's singing," she explains, leaning close, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet against the stone. "Because the seagulls love the ocean, and they hate to see it sad. So they sing songs of flying in the sunset to try and ease its loneliness. They sing of hope and of their love of the sea."

Kakashi closes his eyes again, shifting slightly. "You believe in hope?" His eyes open slowly.

"I believe in you."

The corner of her cupid's bow lips lift in a smile, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck as she leans heavily against him. His arms cross, and he pushes his elbow into her gut softly. He does not wish to hurt her, merely knock her off her balance. Sakura's mouth widens in a perfect 'o' as she falls backwards, hands outstretched to brace her fall. She hits the ground as the tide washes in. Salt water drifts into her mouth, and she spits.

"Kakashi, you idiot!" Dripping, she lifts her hands, balling the back of his vest in her hands. "I'll get you for that!"

She tugs backwards; sidestepping at the man fell backwards, slightly less gracefully than she did.

Kakashi blinks up at her, chilled in the water, but his mask still smirks up in the corner as Sakura holds her hand out for him to take. She laughs at the expression on his face, her own lit up with amusement. The man accepts it slowly, allowing the young woman to help him to his feet.

Retreating back to a dry section of the beach, still away from the boys, Sakura sits down, pulling her top over her head slowly, enjoying the feel of the wind on her shoulders. Almost instinctively, Kakashi sits quietly beside her, shrugging out of his jounin vest and reclining onto his back, hands under his head. Sakura turns to him slowly, her arms raised as she silently wrings out her pink hair.

"Kakashi," she almost whispers, turning slightly to the side to peer at his relaxing form. "Do you really think the ocean is lonely?"

His eyes slide close as he lifts his hand and waits for her to take it. When she does, he tugs on it gently. She sinks onto her side, head lying; pillowed by his stomach. He doesn't let her hand go.

With his free hand, he pulls his fingers silently through her hair, taking pleasure in its texture, and the way it gives against his fingers, slipping effortlessly like silk. "Only during the day. Its seclusion ends at sunset. Because it kisses the horizon, doesn't it?"

Her fingertips enjoy the way they play with the edge of his mask almost as much as her lips enjoy the way they play against his.

finis.