A/N: Surprise! It's me again! I know I've been gone for quite some time, so in lieu of my absence here is a one-shot to fill the void. (If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it, please let me know! I'd love to see this turned into a full-out story!) To those who are waiting for my other updates, please be patient a while longer while I'm working on House of Genjutsu! It's got such a complex storyline that I need time to work out different plots and scenarios. I've also got several more stories in the making (for both Naruto and Fairy Tail), so keep an eye out for those! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto and its entirety.
I still have nightmares about the best day of my life.
The sound of my black stilettos echoing off the vast walls rang interminably down the narrow hallway. My breaths were calm, steady, and rhythmic- just as I had practiced. Years of my life had been spent training for this moment, and my nerves sure as Hell weren't getting the best of me. I had decided a long, long time ago that I would never feel fear again. At long last a single stainless steel door halted my advances. The lengthy hallway had come to an end, and the only thing that stood between my future and I was a door, and whatever test lay beyond it. My perfectly manicured hand reached out confidently for the handle and twisted it with ease. No hesitations.
The first test had been written, which I of course passed with flying colors. Calculations, analysis, memory, it all came naturally to me. I was by no means arrogant, but my intelligence was something I prided myself on. Only about a quarter of my fellow test takers advanced to the second test, which was purely physical. The proctors of that test were more than surprised to see me, one of the few female participants, finish the course faster than anyone else. Only a small percentage of us were given the opportunity to advance to the final test.
What would this entail? An interrogation, perhaps, or even a simulation. My sharp mind calculated all possible scenarios in the mere seconds it took to open the door. I had reached the point of no return.
My senses went into frenzy upon entering the room, which was unusual considering its lack of appeal. It was a normal interrogation room, after all. There were no windows, and the décor was less than flattering. A single chair had been placed in the center of the tight space, directly underneath a dangerously low-hanging light. The fluorescence burned my eyes, but I calmly controlled my discomfort. A stainless steel desk sat a few feet away from the lone chair, but I couldn't care less about that piece of metal; what set my nerves on fire was the man leaning against it.
I kept my composure, but the aura radiating from the mysterious figure screamed at me to turn and run. So, I stepped closer. My eyes never left him as I lowered myself onto the chair. He was tall and lean, with inky black hair that obscured the visibility of his eyes. His mouth was set in a permanent frown, undoubtedly due to a rocky past. Mostly everyone in this line of work seemed to frown. I watched the barley visible rise and fall of his chest as he breathed steadily, waiting.
When I finally spoke, my voice eluded confidence. "Haruno Sakura, reporting for Exam Three."
After a perpetual amount of silence, my proctor let out a short breath of recognition. "Hn."
His movements were the definition of fluid. My proctor's lean, yet toned body pushed itself forward off the desk and directly in front of me. Long legs rhythmically put themselves one in front of the other as he leisurely circled me, each move calculated, careful. I was a statue. For all I knew the test had begun the moment I entered the room and every action of mine was being watched.
The dark haired man finished his lap around me, but continued onto a second. What the Hell was he doing? I felt him stop behind me and lean forward towards my ear. My breath quickened; something I prayed would go unnoticed by him. My prayers went unanswered as I could practically feel the smirk creeping upon his stoic face. The tips of his unruly mane tickled the side of my face, forcing me to hold back the urge to shutter. In an instant his hand reached into my hair to pull out the band holding my locks together. Before I had time to gasp his fingers were threaded through my tresses, my head forcefully thrust backwards. I had never felt so vulnerable. My eyes strained to look at him, still hovering next to my ear. His aristocratic nose grazed against my temple. His hair had fallen away from one eye, and that onyx eye gazed back at me with such intensity, I felt as though I would burst into flames.
He finally spoke. His voice was liquid, black silk. "Your flamboyant hair is noticeable and easily recognizable. Those are qualities that do not bode well in this field. Wouldn't you agree, Sa-ku-ra?"
Was he… teasing me? My composure all but shattered in a millisecond. How dared he. I had been belittled and teased my entire life, and here the man in charge of deciding my future stood, mocking me, trapping me like some helpless damsel. Before either of us could register what was happening, I had retrieved the kunai I kept tucked between my breasts (for safety purposes, of course) with one hand, and securely gripped his wrist with the other. I yanked even harder at his arm, forcing my head back to an unnatural angle. Without a second thought the kunai cut swiftly through my vibrant tresses. Lengthy, pink locks cascaded around my shoulders, yet I remained frozen, staring into the slightly surprised eye of my moderator.
"A trivial matter, if you ask me," was my snide remark. I watched as he straightened, unaffected by what had just happened. Long fingers released the remnants of my mane, and without a second thought the man resumed his original position against the desk.
"Hn. Test participants were given strict orders not to bring weapons with them to their exams."
"Indeed. The rule is absurd. I am amongst a group of people applying for the one of the most dangerous jobs offered in this country. I will follow no such rule that handicaps my ability to perform in my future role as a body guard for the Hokage. My weapons and I are one in the same. However, do not underestimate my ability to carry out my duties without them." The proctor narrowed his eyes in reaction to my revolt, but lazily lolled his head to the side.
"Pink hair and a rebellious attitude," he began in a low undertone, "are two qualities very unfit for this line of work."
I opened my mouth to protest but was cut short by a cold glare.
"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I make the rules around here." My eyes followed the graceful movement of his hands as he reached into his coat pocket. "Welcome to the third exam, Sakura." A sleek, black revolver stood out in contrast against the paleness of Sasuke's left hand. Moisture gathered along my temples and hairline. For once, I had no idea what to expect. "I have carefully constructed each segment of this lengthy exam process in order to weed out those unworthy of the work we do. The third test is undoubtedly the most challenging, as it is purely based on luck. The passing rate since I've been in charge is 0%. With this revolver you will prove to me whether or not you have what it takes to work directly with my team and I. So, Sakura, have you ever played a game of Russian Roulette?"
No hesitations.
Sasuke's hand brushed against mine briefly as I reached for the matte weapon. It screamed danger and beauty, much like the man in front of me. Delicately, I cradled the gun in my hands. Sasuke pushed himself up enough to take a seat atop the desk and leaned back on his arms lackadaisically, all the while examining my every move.
"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the game. What are the rules?"
A smirk. A scoff. A swift answer. "The revolver you hold contains one bullet that I had loaded previous to your entry. You are to spin the cylinder, lift the gun to your head, and pull the trigger. If you die, you fail. If not, I may consider your application. Any questions?"
You've got to be kidding me. I had spent years of my life dedicated to training my mind and body for every possible situation I could imagine. But this? The thought never even manifested. I stared at the gun, hoping that my hesitation was not blatantly obvious.
Six chambers. Supposedly a single bullet lay hidden in one of the six, although there was no evidence to prove my proctor had been telling the truth. Strangely enough, despite my examiner's arrogance, I felt compelled to believe him. The looming fear of around a 16.7% chance at death weighed heavily on my conscious, though.
I inhaled a copious amount of air, as if having enough oxygen would keep me alive if I happened to blow my brains out. My eyes shut on their own accord, refusing to give away my emotions to the stoic man in front of me. Trembling, I spun the cylinder. Adrenaline ran rampant through my veins, and my heart clenched defensively.
I lifted the gun to my head.
The only thing left to do was pull the trigger.
And so, I did.
…
Am I dead? I couldn't trust my instincts; my senses had numbed completely. Maybe I should open my eyes and see. My body refused to respond; refused to accept the fact that I could very well have just killed myself.
It was a single word spoken in the most melodious octave that brought me out of my comatose state. "Sakura."
My gasp echoed off the walls that still rang from an empty revolver shot. I stared doe-eyed at my smirking proctor that now rested his chin on clasped hands. Gravity bore down on my frozen limb, and with it the revolver fell to the floor.
"Welcome to Team 7."
A/N: Oh how I adore the angsty chemistry between these two! Again, I'd love to see this turned into a full story, but I simply don't have the time or ideas for this one, so please let me know if anyone would like to expand on this! And don't forget to leave me your thoughts in a review; I love feedback and really benefit from it! Hope you enjoyed it, thanks guys! XOXO