Title: Anti-Depressants

Full Summary:

'Here he was, the 19-year-old brunette, pitifully slumped over the bar counter. His fingers gently traced his half-empty mug of beer. He cursed his alcohol resistance, the poor quality of the beer, his lack of cash to get anything better. "Life sucks," concluded the young man desperately trying to get drunk.'

Just because he was suppose to be cheerful doesn't mean he has to be all the time. Alcohol and smokes can only do so much...

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Romance (I think...)

Pairings: KonoHana

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.

Please read the author's notes at the end of the fic.

Upbeat. Cheery. Optimistic. Energetic.

Those were the words one would usually combine with the name 'Sarutobi Konohamaru', the young man recently graduated from High School. He was quick to throw grins, fast to crack jokes.

But not all the time.

Here he was, the 19-year-old brunette, pitifully slumped over the bar counter. His fingers gently traced his half-empty mug of beer. He cursed his alcohol resistance, the poor quality of the beer, his lack of cash to get anything better. "Life sucks," concluded the young man desperately trying to get drunk.

It was heart-breaking to see the unique glow gone from his chocolate eyes as he downed his mug in one and snapped for a refill. He lifted a hand to rub his sleepiness from dark-ringed eyes, the product of pulling all-nighters at the bar. The previously tanned man now had the skin tone of a rather critically ill person.

He shouldn't have done it. No, he shouldn't have. Because of that thoughtless mistake, he was now unable to return to the rented apartment called home. He had stopped going to his college a few days back. Damn his luck. Damn his life.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He forced his lips into a tight line, quirking up at the corners. These weren't even his cigarettes. These were his father's, his uncle's, his grandfather's cigarettes. He came from a line of smokers. He pulled a thin stick out and lit it. He gripped it with his teeth. He let the smoke pool his mouth, tasting the smoke, but he didn't inhale. He never inhaled. Sarutobi Konohamaru wasn't a smoker.

Just as he grabbed his fourth -or was it fifth?- mug of beer, his head jerked up as he heard his name ringing throughout the bar. He hardly had time to raise his mug to his lips before he was grabbed by his scarf. He gulped. Lords, his best friend was terrifying. He was helpless as she fished his pockets for his wallet.

"'Nabi…" he drawled, playing the part of a drunk. "Shut up, Asshole," she snapped back, slamming his money on the counter. Yes, she was a nightmare. He put up little resistance as she pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the bar. He noticed all heads were watching them in perfect silence. Her face was tinted red, was it anger or embarrassment? The bartender whistled a low note and resumed wiping his gleaming bar top.

Faster than he could say "Put me down"; he was dumped unceremoniously on the dew-laden grass. It was drizzling. He gave a low pitched growl. "Bastard," he heard her mutter. He propped himself on his elbows, ready to get up. The next thing he knew, she was on top of him.

Straddling him.

And immediately, he was shot with guilt. He could see her face, flushed. Her beautiful gray eyes tearing up. No, Hyuuga Hanabi never cried easily. Never! And yet, here she was; eyes pooling with tears. He immediately felt a thousand- Scratch that, a million times worse. His best friend's tears were a rare sight; and yet the drops were now silently falling on his face.

How he longed to say the words "Don't cry 'Nabi", while brushing away her tears, but no. His body was stunned to complete paralysis. "Sarutobi Konohamaru, you complete asshole." He read anger in her eyes, fear and fury. But the worst was definitely when he saw the tender care in her eyes, her worry, and her guilt. You complete arse, he chided himself.

It was getting hard to breath; even harder to swallow through the lump in his throat.

He could smell the tobacco in his breath. He was reeking of alcohol. He was ashamed of himself. He had a girl, his best friend, cry over him; an ass. A lousy ass. He couldn't bring himself to say her name. She looked absolutely terrible yet beautiful, rain dripping down her long semi-curly tresses. He watched her fist clenching and unfurling in the grass next to him, the way she bit her lip.

"I'm sorry."

He had no idea who was the one who said that first. She continued, piercing him with her clear gray eyes. She continued on. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't believe in you. I'm sorry I told you that you were a useless piece of shit. Don't let anyone tell you that. Don't punish yourself when you didn't do anything wrong."

He choked on the words threatening to escape. Guilt, apology, promises… A jumble of words ran through his mind. The liquid trailing down the sides of his face was burning white-hot, mingling with the cold rain in his hair, trickling behind his ears.

He heard it ringing in his ears; loud and clear. He heard his own voice, stressed and uncontrolled. As well as hers, cold and sharp. He was yelling whatever that flooded his mind; coherent, rational or not. And he lost it. He snapped. He yelled his final attack, "Because I love you!" He saw her freeze before he stormed out the door.

"I'm sorry." That's all he could manage. He couldn't take it anymore! It was torture! He couldn't bear to see one so strong crumbling in front of him. He wanted to be hit… He wanted to be yelled at… He wanted to be cursed at… He wanted to be physically hurt… Hurt so bad he could run away from the internal turmoil.

And she did the thing that destroyed him; utterly and completely.

She dipped her head; slowly, gracefully. Her tears still trailing softly down her beautiful face. He watched those clear gray eyes flutter close. She was getting closer. He could feel anxiety, hesitation rolling of her; and a quick rhythm pounding against him. She almost stopped and pulled her head back, but she never did.

He could now feel her warm breath against his cheek; tickling and comforting. He was disturbed at how perfectly natural it felt. He felt his breath escape in short soft pants, desperately trying to control his escalating heart rate. He tried to ignore the swelling feeling in his chest that struck him dizzy; the burning hot sensation that was creeping up his neck, behind his ears and across his face. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his lips slightly parted; ready to call her out from her trance. His voice never came.

He felt the dormant creature in his chest stir at the situation.

He wanted this.

Though he knew what was happening, he was still shocked it took place. He wondered if he blacked out because he felt tender, warm, wet skin against his lips all of a sudden. It was gently, but firmly, pressed against his own. Before he could react, she pulled away. He could see fear, confusion and worry in her now open eyes. He could feel her whole body shaking as she made to get off him.

It was now or never.

He quickly lifted his own head; pushed by the adrenaline pumping in his veins. His lips met against her, barely brushing. Did he dare press harder? No, he didn't have to. She was tenderly pressing her lips against his. In that moment, a mutual feeling of apology and forgiveness washed across them.

It started and ended as fast as a spark did.

He could hear her panting in unison with him, amazed at how a tender movement could be so mentally exhausting. He realized with a start that his hands were placed on her slim frame; and that hers were definitely on him. No more apologies were needed as rich chocolate eyes met clear gray ones. He tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear before making to get up.

And in a flash, his trademark grin was back. The glow in his dark eyes had returned. He licked his lips. His voice felt and sounded weird after holding in so many words. "'Nabi, you're such a tsundere," he jested. He saw the smile creeping on her lips. "No," she responded, eyes glinting in the light of a nearby street lamp. "I'm an anti-depressant," she whispered, mischievously.

Author's Notes:

Firstly, I have to apologize for them being so Out-Of-Character. I just like writing about more mature, rather angsty Konohamaru.

Secondly, I wanted to bring out how much a best friend (in which I used Hanabi) can do for someone. But it ended up... Weird...

Thirdly, I've never experienced such a situation before... So it's rather... Fake. And I definitely killed the ending.

Lastly, I want to thank the people who took time to read this. It really means a lot to me.