A Nugget of Gold

"You're not a rock star."

It started like that.

Within the walls of Konoha University's very own library—the smell of unopened books, worlds yet to be discovered, mysteries unsolved wafting in the air—Sasuke met her.

She was a small thing, a tiny frame. No more than five foot two, maybe three. Her pink hair was just long enough to be wrapped into a messy bun that she sported, perfectly aligned to the middle of the crown of her head. Sasuke could hear Naruto as he pounded his shoulder with his index finger, faux whispering, "Teme! Teme! She has pink hair. Pink."

But Sasuke could care less about that. He was beyond used to the blonde's antics, so much so that he could completely tune them out, lost in the silence of a place blinded by a different light. It was so bright, so, so…

It was her eyes. Green as the green grass, the turf on the football field, lively as the green of the earth, perfect as Mother Nature imagined, youthful as the new buds of flowers popping out of the ground, spring fresh.

It reminded him of March—St. Patrick's day when everyone wore green and the universe was enveloped in green and green, green, green. Gold specks decorated the emerald orbs, little specks of spiced brown adding warmth and character to the jade. Her eyes were…

His words caught in his mouth, but he couldn't let that show. He was an Uchiha. Uchiha Sasuke. The main attraction at Sound High. He had every girl wrapped around his finger, under his control like a puppet; ready to bend when he said when and to jump however high he announced. And for some reason, some little elf-like girl stepped over to his area, popped his bubble, and decided that he wasn't a rock star?

When did he say that he ever wanted to be a rock star? Was there some sign on his forehead?

He hid his growing frustration behind his book, hitching it up high enough to cover the girl. She was annoying, standing there as if she had a right toward his attention. Who did she think she was? No one had the right toward instant replies. This wasn't an automatic text machine. He wouldn't just spit out replies for her, some stranger that decided he was a Public Opinion box.

Focus, his conscious told him as his grip tightened white on the edges of the book. Right, he sighed, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. The pages of his Business & Economics book flipped in consequence. Who was she? She was just a girl that thought that her opinion meant something. Sooner or later, she would walk away, disgruntled, finally piecing it together in her brain that yes, in fact, he was ignoring her.

He had a life to live, a business—an enterprise—to run for his family. For his father. For himself, in the long run. Focus on the end result, Sasuke, he thought, it's all about the light at the end of the tunnel. Don't let some RPG character block it.

Sasuke sighed again, tight-lipped.

She would go away.

The sound of a wooden, unstable chair screeching against old hardwood flooring echoed throughout the empty, spacious library, and at the sound of her books crashing onto his table—it was his table, damn it—his barrier started disintegrate.

"I'm Sakura," she greeted, jutting out a small hand, neat white covering the tips of her nails. Sasuke followed the hand up, a sliver of creamy skin was her wrist, and then traveled to the maroon of her sweater. When he finally reached her smile, he had to fight a smirk of his own. "I saw your poster," she continued, reaching in her back pocket. She unfolded the tattered edges and slapped it on the table.

Naruto jumped beside him at the loudness of the smack, and the girl sent him a sharp look before aiming it at Sasuke.

"It sucks."

Three knocks on his bathroom door followed by a pattern that only one other person could ever conjure up interrupted him. He rolled his eyes and ignored it, finished his left eye before walking over to the lock.

"Lock this door and I will personally remove your penis," she sang, voice like something from a Disney movie. It was funny how she could sound so sweet and innocent when saying words that would make a restraining order very easy to fill out.

Sasuke groaned, fighting with his arm, which seemed to have a mind of its own. When the argument reached a boiling point that he could no longer handle, he gave up. He swung open the door, not even looking back to make sure she was walking in. Of course, she would walk in. She's Sakura. Her only purpose in life is to invade his. He strolled back to the mirror, flipping his pencil back into his grasp.

Sakura hopped onto his mother's vanity. "Did you steal that? You steal from your very on mother?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The eyeliner. It can't be yours. Only Emo losers that want to be soft-rock slash hard-rock slash rock-pop sensations use it. 'Guyliner', some would say," she defined. "You thieve from your very own birth giver. I don't believe I associate myself with guyliner wearing—"

Sasuke slammed his hands against the bathroom counter, tension in his arms from the careful precision he had held in his wrist releasing all in an instant. The small black pencil broke on impact, and he glared at Sakura from within the mirror.

He sneered, "Who let you in my house?"

"A nice young man with purple nail polish did. He looked a lot like you and I'm only now further inclined to believe that you are related. Maybe the obsession with female products runs in the family?" She rubbed her face, deep in thought, before adding, "Do you both plan covert ninja plans to ninja-style rob your mother? I mean, you can't possibly enter a store with the intention of purchasing eyeliner and still be able to call yourself a potent man."

He turned his body then, facing her fully, while his jaw tightened. "Sakura," he let out slowly, as if he were releasing a toxin someone had forcefully injected into him. "Leave."

She pouted, flipping her hair to the other side of her her face. Sakura didn't want to leave, apparently, and Sasuke watched with narrowed eyes as she stood and danced around the large bathroom. She twirled around until she floated down, sitting on the ledge of his bathtub.

She eyed him with just as much determination, a challenge obvious in her eyes.

Sasuke had long adjusted to that look. Her lips were taut, almond eyes pinched together at the creases. It never looked like she was breathing, because she was just that focused.

He knew the exact way that her cheeks, normally porcelain, lit with pink splotches that matched her hair. She told him that it was genetics, and that, no, she was not embarrassed slash uncomfortable slash angry. It was the unfortunate toning of her skin that refused to tan and the overactive blood vessels under her cheeks that caused them to glow pink.

He fought a smirk, humoring himself at how she refused to admit that she was blushing.

Finally, Sasuke grumbled. "Fine," he muttered, before realizing that this would be the same thing as admitting defeat. He rummaged his drawers for another pencil and smirked, deciding to play along with the idea this silly girl had about him. He smirked lightly, "Stay; watch me put on eyeliner for my totally awesome, oh my god, you won't believe it, I have this amazing opening riff with the most unbelievable, impossible chords, concert."

"I thought I told you that you weren't a rock star, Sasuke dearest. You know that you're just going to play for the elderly," she crossed her legs and daintily balanced her head on her propped hand. A fair eyebrow danced.

His face deflated, whatever feeling that had taken homage in his chest moments before running away, scared for its existence.

"Get out," he ordered, whipping a pointed finger to the door. "Seriously."

Sasuke flinched slightly when a big blond head appeared in his mirror. He took out his ear buds, pausing the song—his voice—that had been playing on repeat for the last hour, and carefully placed them beside his iPhone.

The band sat in the small Green Room of Suna U's stage, tuning guitars, idly strumming chords, practicing lines with pencils, or, in Sasuke's case, ignoring a certain idiot who was supposed to be tuning his own guitar.

He flickered his ebony eyes to the left, watching in agony as Sakura twisted the knobs of Naruto's bass, cheeks puffed out in aggravation, teeth clenching on a bottom lip. Neji watched patiently, unsure on how to instruct her. Sasuke saw his hands reach out to take the guitar, only to have Sakura snap her cotton candy head toward him, barking some reprimand. She tried again, and Sasuke could almost imagine the tension coursing through the strings.

Just one more twist and the chords would—

"Teme!"

"What!"

Sasuke whiplashes his head toward Naruto, eyes narrowed. His heart raced underneath his black tee, pumping to an erratic melody that he didn't know the notes to. He and his best friend glared at each other for a moment, before Naruto softened.

He sighed, "You've been spacing, dude."

Naruto's blue eyes were sincere, honest as the sky was clear. Golden eyebrows had knitted themselves together in concern for his best friend.

"Are you nervous?" He asked quietly.

Sasuke snorted, grimacing.

"Right," Naruto scoffed. "I, Uchiha Sasuke, almighty, know not of the feeble word nervous."

The two laughed shortly, a loud guffaw from Naruto and a soft chuckle from Sasuke, before the serious air returned once again. "This is meg important, teme," the blonde voiced, a slight tremor in his tenor as the cheers from outside grew even louder. The first band must've just reached stage. Naruto took a deep breath before continuing, "If you're nervous, it's cool. We're all nervous."

Sasuke fiddles with the wires of his ear buds, a strange feeling entering him when the other band introduced themselves on-stage. He had never heard the name before, and by the sounds of a shaky lead singer calling out the name 'Bloody Angel' half-heartedly, they were new. No competition yet, his mind mused.

He looked up, glancing at Naruto from the mirror. The blonde seemed to have the same relief written on his face, and when he noticed Sasuke looking at him, he grinned. "Sounds like they suck," he laughed.

Sasuke nodded, a smirk dancing on his features. He glanced to his left, noticing that Sakura had finally finished tuning the guitar, lifting up the bass in triumph.

A beautiful melody sounded throughout the recently silenced green room, ringing out in echoed harmony.

His grin widened.

He just needed one more chance.

But even Sasuke knew that his father wasn't one to give second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth chances.

Sakura grumbled, floundering around before hurling into the seat beside Kiba. He smacked his arm, face flushed in anger, "You know they totally cheated! Those…ugh…those," a string of profanities that would make a preacher weep and coddle flew out of her mouth.

Kiba shrugged, tossing his drumstick in his hand. "I mean, what're we gonna do now? We can't change what's already happened and, with all the practice we do, I don't think we can get any bet—"

"Since when were you resident Negative Nancy, dog face?" Sakura sneered, shooting up from the seat. She ignored the small growl that exited the brunet's mouth, and stomped around.

Finally, she decided on where she wanted to be and hopped on the table in the middle of the 'family room'. She propped her hands on her hips, leveling each of the boys in the face.

Her finger waggled. "Here's our problem, boys," she said, voice loud enough without a microphone. She pointed to Neji, "We've got an enterprise pretty boy that doesn't know what hard rock is even if someone threw all ten Guns 'n' Roses albums at his face," she moved to Naruto, "a punk that thinks tats, piercings, random hand gestures and screeches make him rock," a finger flew toward Kiba, "a beach bum with some talent on drums that thinks half an hour of practice is enough to make him the next Moon," she turned to face Sasuke, arms crossing, "and you. A lead singer with a heavenly voice that should belong in Nick's next boy band, Big Time Flush."

Naruto's face convulsed, disgusted at the accusations. Kiba snickered at her clever wordplay.

"Actually," Neji stated, eyebrows furrowing. "GNR only had six albums."

Sakura hopped off the table gracelessly. "Oh, how'd I know you were going to say that," she said lowly, so lowly that the rumble of the tires against the road was almost lower. When she was finally chest-to-chest to him, she finished, "Guns 'n' Roses had six studio albums, three EPs, and one live album. If I passed the first grade, I think that adds to ten."

Neji rolled his eyes, tensed his jaw, and looked out the window.

"Does anyone else have any objections? Comments? Concerns?" Sakura asked, throwing her arms out. "Really, go ahead, lay 'em out, I'm ready to hear them." More silence reverberated between the cabin, and she grumbled, rubbing her temples. She could admit that she did happen to lay it on pretty thick and let her temper decide some the words that she could've saved for a better time, a time when everyone wasn't raw with loss, a time when she had time to think before she spoke.

She circled the bus one more time with her sea foam eyes, pausing on each of their faces. No one seemed like they were ready to speak, sulking like hormonal teenagers. She crossed her arms, unfolded them, and decided that the pocket in her hoodie was much more comfortable. Her face flattened, before she mumbled, "I'm sorry if I hurt any feelings."

Three beats of pregnant silence passed before a throat cleared.

Sakura's eyes flicked over to Neji, who was leaning against a wall. "You don't think we believe in ourselves?" He asked. The accusation was absent from his clear allegation. Somehow, this seemed to make it sting even more.

She straightened her shoulders, though, formulating her reply. "I do think you guys believe in yourselves," she clarified. "But, I don't think you guys know what you," she moved her arms on a large circular motion, "are yet. Are you a rock band or a pop band, punk or Screamo? In order to appeal to fans, you have to create a genre for them. I mean, think about it. If you want to advertise yourselves, what would you say?"

The notion ran through all of their minds for a few moments, and Sakura nodded, a smile on her face. "It makes sense, right? I'm not saying you don't have fans," she backtracked, noting the quick expression change on Kiba. "You have plenty fans, but most of them are obsessive girls that just like you because you're hot. You need to be deeper than that; so, when we get home, we're going to have to put in a lot of work, k?"

They all nodded.

"So, Sasuke's house at eight on Saturday. We're working on image first," she grinned and hopped next to the now grimacing Uchiha. She hooked her arm through his, setting the area on fire in an unlisted way. She beamed, "Would that be a-okay, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke wanted nothing but to untangle himself and lean closer at once. He shook the image of her out of his mind as he drowned in the green of her eyes, shutting his own and forcing his thoughts to return to a logical, happy, mathematical place. When the numbers started adding right again, he opened his eyes again, sticking her with a hard look. "I can't," he said, his face rigid.

Sakura's shoulder's fell. "Why not? You live right off campus."

Naruto picked up on the beat of tightening silence like a professional, moving from his seat on a pouf and cuddling next to the rosette, making a sandwich out of her. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he shrugged, "Since we're all sitting close," he murmured. "But, yeah, his dad doesn't like the idea of Sasuke being in the music industry so I highly doubt he'd let us in."

"Who says that they have to?"

Kiba's offer hung in the air while grins split across everyone's face.

(Except for Sasuke. He didn't quite like the idea of breaking into his own house. Honestly.)

"Do you have any deodorant, teme?"

Sasuke grimaced, running his razor across his jaw smoothly. He didn't often spend the night at the dorm, but Naruto had insisted and Sasuke got nightmares about how messy it had to be without him to influence the slob. He was pleasantly surprised to see the floor when he walked in, steps behind his best friend, so he decided that he would chance it.

Now, with a towel wrapped around his waist and hair slick from a steamy shower, eyes heavy and bags dark from a sleepless night, he wished he was at home. Because, seriously, Naruto didn't have deodorant?

One look at Sasuke's face made the blonde drop his joke. "I was just kidding!" he shouted abruptly, throwing his hands up in innocence. Sasuke relaxed and continued shaving.

"But, I actually need toothpaste. Really."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, "What do you want?"

Naruto giggled, both pleased and upset to see that Sasuke had seen through his joke. He pushed himself up on the bathroom counter and tapped his fingers on the stone. "Well, it's about Sakura," he started cautiously.

He glanced toward Sasuke, just in time to see him tense. Sasuke tossed his response in the air before deciding on the safe, "What about her?"

"Well, I thought you'd know," he murmured. Naruto ran a tanned hand through his locks, enough of a hesistation to make Sasuke drop his razor in the sink and turn fully toward him. He continued, "she, um, well, I kind of asked her out last night and she said yeah."

A frenzy of emotions coursed through Sasuke, from the most juvenile of 'I saw her first', to the more mature, 'All's fair in love and war.' Did he really want to feud with the idiot over her, though? He was a jokester. He was probably making this up. His eyebrows furrowed as he placed an unreadable expression on his face, vying time.

How did he really feel about that? Should he just tell Naruto that dating within the band wasn't allowed?

No, that'd be bogus.

Sasuke smirked, a small quirk of his lips, tipping his head toward the blonde.

"Congrats, dobe."

A/N: URGH! I know I said this was a one-shot. But…I love it too much. Perhaps I'll see if I can squeeze it into two, but, right now I'm seeing three or four.

…darn you, KillerMay. You planted so many plot bunnies. Hahaha.

Review!

~hotoffthefryer