Chapter 1: In which World Peace is not all it's cracked up to be

Optional Soundtrack: Kaboom! by Ursula 1000 (Cha Cha Cha)


It was well past noon by the time Sakura flopped onto one of the weather worn stools at Ichiraku, barely throwing her arm out in time to catch the steaming bowl Teuchi slid toward her.

"On the house," he said, smiling kindly as always. "Busy morning?"

Beside her, Naruto snorted into his bowl of ramen. "When isn't it busy for Sakura-chan?"

Sai swallowed, as social norms dictated, and cleared his throat before speaking. "The Lovely Ino says that every Sunday, she stays home in ugly pajamas, stuffs her face—"

"Nobody actually wants an answer," Naruto pointed out amiably. "That was rhetorical."

Sasuke smirked. "Four syllables. I'm impressed."

"—lazes around all day—"

"Thanks. Wait…SASUKE, YOU BASTARD!"

"—reads smutty romance novels, and cries herself to sleep because she's forever alone."

Naruto, who was currently straddling Sasuke in the middle of the street and trying to grind his face in the dust, paused and turned horrified eyes toward her. "Wait, seriously? Sakura-chan, that's terrible!"

There was a distinct cracking noise as Sakura's chopsticks snapped within her fist, which may or may not have started to glow. A few splinters fell into her bowl and Naruto began to splutter about respecting ramen. Sasuke took that opportunity to shove Naruto off, then zapped him a few times just because.

"Nah, it's not all that bad," said Sakura, perhaps a little too sweetly, "because it's not true." She punctuated this by stabbing the remains of her chopsticks into Sai's stool, dangerously close to his crotch. Then she returned to her own seat and accepted a new set of chopsticks from Teuchi. She smiled at Sasuke and Naruto as they returned to their seats like the nice, civilized boys they were. "So, Sasuke-kun, how has your day been?"

"Hn."

"Wonderful!" she effused. "What about you, Naruto?"

"Sakura-chan!" he whined. "You know I can't talk about it here," he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "You know, all that super important future Hokage business and all. I'm not like those two, who sit on their lazy asses all day and occasionally get called in for D-rank missions."

"Right," said Sakura. "How could I forget that you're the great hero who ushered in a new era of World Peace? Someone ought to name another bridge after you."

Naruto puffed his chest out and beamed, too pleased to notice the sarcasm.

Still, she couldn't hold back a small smile before finally digging into her own ramen. Jokes aside, Naruto really was every bit as important as he thought he was, probably more. And he really had saved the world and brought an end to the Fourth Shinobi War, albeit with the aid of the rest of the Team 7. He had a way of touching people's hearts, cheesy as it sounded, and had deeply moved every single ninja in the alliance, especially the five Kage. Tsunade and Kakashi had spent the past year capitalizing on his momentum, organizing united relief efforts and brokering treaties to balance the need for individual leaders to uphold their village's best interests against the importance of cooperation. As a result, the continent was experiencing an unprecedented period of World Peace.

It was great.

It was also kind of awful.

In the absence of war, or even the threat of war, there was little demand for warriors, even ninja warriors. Once the initial slew of "clear the rubble" and "build basic shelter" missions ran out (which took all of one month thanks to Naruto's army of overzealous kage bunshin), there really wasn't much left for most people to do. These days, Naruto was usually sent on A-rank missions to show up at diplomatically symbolic events, eat ramen with important figures, deliver charmingly candid speeches about Teamwork and World Peace, and make sure the public got lots of memorial photographs. It was ironic that in proving himself to be a consummate shinobi in all aspects, he had earned himself the most un-shinobi role in Konoha's history.

In contrast, Sai's missions tended to involve drawing reward posters for a wealthy lady whose cats had been missing since Pein's attack. Sasuke's missions were marginally more useful, but no more exciting: while Konoha's power plant was being rebuilt, he was mainly hired out to various families who needed an emergency power supply. And Sakura? She didn't even get to go on missions anymore. She spent most of her waking hours in the hospital, which was busier than ever.

Job security, she decided, was a real bitch.

("But at least you have a source of income," Naruto had countered. "Unlike the bastard, you aren't the tragic heir to a wealthy, but very dead clan. He could keep doing nothing for the rest of his life and still be loaded.")

Sakura was drawn out of her thoughts when Sasuke laid some bills on the counter and rose to his feet.

"I'm off to the Hokage's office," he announced. "To receive details on a rescue mission that will involve more than sitting on my lazy ass all day and being used as a vapid poster child for World Peace."

Then he disappeared in a violent swirl of leaves. Naruto wasn't 100% sure what vapid meant, but hollered profanities in his wake, anyway.

"Why haven't I been asked to draw your posters?" demanded Sai.


Sakura's afternoon in the hospital was comparatively uneventful. She was double-booked for checkups for the rest of the day, and, as luck would have it, everyone decided to show up. While routine visits required considerably less chakra than emergency surgeries, they were exhausting in their own way. It was mainly the more powerful shinobi that came in for health checkups since they were the ones who sustained the sorts of injuries that were nasty enough to require follow up. Incidentally, powerful shinobi also made up her least compliant patient population.

So when Sakura finally kicked open the door to her office, arms full of patient charts and other semi-urgent paperwork, she was almost surprised to find her second-worst patient sitting in her custom, ergonomic swivel chair.

"Sasuke-kun?"

He studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the stack of papers. "Sakura."

"What brings you to my office?" she asked, crossing the room. "Since I doubt this is a social visit."

He stayed put, even as she dumped her papers on the desk and hovered pointedly beside her chair. It was typical Sasuke, showing up unannounced and making demands from her throne. Not that she really minded. At least he showed up, unlike Kakashi.

"I need medical clearance to go on a B-rank mission," he said simply. She tried not to be jealous that a mere genin, albeit a highly overqualified genin, got more adventure than she, a highly qualified jounin.

"But you haven't had any serious injuries since your deathmatch with Naruto last year." Which, incidentally, hadn't actually resulted in either of their deaths and ended up being more of a heart-to-heart.

Sasuke felt no need to respond, opting instead to tug his shirt off and look at her expectantly. It was a testament to the bonds of Team 7 that this wasn't a whole lot more awkward than it was, considering she had confessed her undying love a few times and been knocked out in response. But having feelings for someone was nothing to be ashamed of, so she refused to act as if it were. And Sasuke didn't seem to think any less of her for it, either. He just acted as if it had never happened, treating her with the same careful distance he treated Kakashi.

Her own feelings toward Sasuke were rather complicated, of course. She still loved him, but less desperately than she had while he had been determined to destroy the world in the name of revenge or, later, to destroy it in the name of justice. Whether love or hate, emotions of any extreme could be rather draining, and her feelings for him had long encompassed elements from both ends of the spectrum. So in the immediate aftermath of the war, when she found herself physically, mentally, and emotionally spent, there was a period where she simply felt nothing. At last, when all that was left between them was an easy but affectionless familiarity, she was relieved to discover that their bond would never truly dissolve. And when she finally stopped worrying about the ways he had changed, she finally understood the ways he hadn't changed. And that was when she realized she still loved him.

"Tch."

He seemed to sense, with some annoyance, that he did not have her complete attention.

"Fine," she groaned. "Sit up here."

She swiped her arm in a small arc across her desk, sweeping some of her junk onto her beautiful, hardwood floor. She deliberately avoided clearing too big of a spot, because she made a point not to be overly accommodating for entitled boys who couldn't be bothered to go through the proper channels.

"Even when you're only doing D- and C-rank missions, you still need to come to your follow up appointments, you know."

"Why?" The corners of his mouth curled into a sardonic smile. "It's not like you ever screw up the first time around."

She was pretty sure there was a compliment in there if she squinted hard enough.

"True," she admitted, bending his arms as she tested his passive range of motion. "But sometimes bigger problems can overshadow smaller ones, and we don't find out until you come back for follow up."

"Hn."

Once she was done with her musculoskeletal exam, Sakura closed her eyes, sending some of her own chakra in pulsatile waves through his chakra conduits.

"Sakura."

"Hm?" she asked, absently.

"Do you like this? Spending all of your time in the hospital?"

She opened her eyes, mildly surprised that he would ask. She was even more surprised when she decided to answer honestly.

"Yes," she said, "and no."

She focused her attention on his eyes, which were, in fact, Itachi's eyes and not the same endlessly dark eyes she had swooned over for the majority of her childhood. Her chakra threaded smoothly through the intricate, spiraling channels. If Itachi had been practically blind, how was it that his eyes could be perfectly healthy just by being transplanted into Sasuke's head? It implied that the problem with the Mangekyou Sharingan was more in the optic nerves, or perhaps the brain. But unless any more vengeful Uchiha crawled out of the woodwork, it would be at least a generation or two before anybody could explore that further, if at all. More likely, someone already had but the information was classified.

When she finished, Sasuke was still watching her, waiting.

"I like being where my skills are most needed," she explained. "When I'm in the hospital, there are times when I am one of the only people capable of performing the procedure a patient needs. And there's a pleasant sort of efficiency to that, knowing I am in the place where I can do the most good with my skill set."

She paused, and still he waited.

"But I've trained to be a field medic, and without any combat exposure, I know I have other skills that will dull if I never get to use them. And one day, that could cost somebody's life." Like Naruto's. Or Kakashi's, or Sai's, or Sasuke's. Or her own.

"You sound just like her," he said, finally. "The Hokage. She was just lecturing me about the importance of putting some of my more unique abilities to use."

He turned away from her as he pulled his shirt over his head, as if she would be any less tempted to stare at the lean, corded muscles of his back than those of his chest, as if he even worried much about modesty. Or perhaps it was for her benefit, because he knew the sight of him could still take her breath away and he didn't want to compromise her respiratory function. He made a few hand signs, then glanced over his shoulder and offered her his customary half-smile.

"Thanks," he said.

Then she was left alone with one more patient chart to fill out and a small autumnal mess on her floor.


"How would you like to take a break from the hospital, Sakura?" asked Tsunade. She held out her empty cup and Kakashi immediately reached over to fill it. Apparently, she had her successor-in-training better trained than her apprentices.

"I wouldn't mind," said Sakura carefully, "but I'm not sure the hospital can handle it at the moment." In return for the raw materials necessary to rebuild the village, Tsunade had offered Konoha's unrivaled health services to any shinobi who had served during the war. It may have worked a little too well, as both materials and patients were pouring in.

Tsunade waved her hand dismissively. "I'll handle that. It's high time Kakashi took on more Hokage duties, anyway. Let me ask you again: would you like a break?"

"Then, yes. I haven't been able to train as much as I'd like as of late." Pulverizing boulders had always been highly effective stress relief.

"Hmph." Tsunade threw back another cup of sake, and motioned for more. "That makes two of us."

She held out a scroll, and Sakura took it.

"Then you can consider this your vacation. Up to two trips to fancy hotels in fancy cities, and several weeks of free dance lessons. How fun."

For a moment, Sakura eyed it suspiciously. What was so important that Tsunade would not only sacrifice her chief of staff, but volunteer to take on the extra hospital duties herself? Then she noticed Kakashi visibly wilting amidst the stacks of official Hokage paperwork that would soon be his duty. He may have been mouthing "help" at her, but he was wearing that stupid mask, so there was really no way to know for sure. Tsunade, she decided, was both brilliant and absolutely heartless. Fears dispelled, Sakura cracked the seal and unfurled the scroll—a mission, at last!

"A wealthy family—practically royalty within the ballroom dancing world—reports that their daughter-in-law, Yuna, one of the current world champions, has gone missing. Their son, her partner, has a number of suspects, all virtually untouchable due to financial or political reasons, but he cannot be sure exactly who is responsible. The least conspicuous way to approach all of them would be to entice them to approach you instead."

Tsunade held up a picture of a small woman with a sleek, lacquered black bun. Then she fanned out several other pictures, some of her, and some of a variety of other people.

"She disappeared one month ago, after they qualified for the world championships taking place in a month and a half. Ballroom couples have a reputation for being passionate, but volatile, so police have concluded she simply left on her own. Frankly, I suspect they've been bribed. The clients have asked that you infiltrate one, maybe two, competitions as a dancer to investigate her disappearance and bring her back."

"Why me?" asked Sakura, brows furrowing. "I mean, I can do it, but this sounds more like someone else's specialty." Like, say, Ino's…sparkles, dramatic makeup, commanding the attention of an adoring crowd…

Kakashi stifled a laugh, which was disconcerting because his favorite orange book was miraculously absent and Naruto wasn't around to make a fool of himself.

Tsunade cleared her throat. "You're right. We weren't originally planning to send you. But the clients just revealed that the missing woman is pregnant, and we do not know what sort of medical attention they may require when you find them. If we recover both of them in good health, they are willing to pay as if this were an A-rank mission, maybe even S-rank."

"I see," said Sakura, although she didn't really. Ino was a medic, too. "I have the medic part down. But I don't have any sort of background in performance or dancing." That sort of training was more for the girls who specialized in espionage and seduction missions, stuff that required more subtlety and less of the indiscriminate destruction Team 7 was known for. However, this was a mission for her, not for Team 7…

"Don't worry. It's not a seduction mission," Kakashi broke in, eyes crinkling conspicuously above his mask. "Not exactly, anyway."

Somehow, Sakura was not comforted.

"Don't worry," Tsunade echoed. "Our clients seemed to think that was an advantage, that they could train you from scratch. They are also training a partner for you, one who is already shaping up to be an excellent dancer."

"Prodigious, one might say," added Kakashi, ever helpful.

Tsunade gave him a sharp look, then smiled fondly at her favorite pupil. "I have complete faith in you, Sakura."

Sakura was even less comforted.


The clients arranged to meet her the next morning in a small studio a few blocks from her apartment. She used to walk past it on her way to the academy, but she couldn't recall ever seeing it in use. But she remembered peering into the windows on occasion, taking in the expanse of mirrored walls, the polished wooden floor, and the giant crystal chandelier. It was surreal, then, when she stepped inside for the first time and discovered it was just as grand as she used to imagine it was.

"Good morning." It was a woman's voice, muffled, and it took a moment for Sakura to locate its source. She was seated on the floor, bending so far forward that her cheekbones were touching her shins. For a middle-aged lady who couldn't perform an anti-aging jutsu, she looked remarkably good. She probably had a naturally willowy build, but it was further accentuated by her form-fitting black attire. Sakura took mental notes. "Please, come join me."

So Sakura did, silently mirroring the woman as she ran through a series of unnecessarily complicated stretches. Still, it was nothing compared to what Tsunade had once put her through. Sakura hadn't even realized the human body was so flexible until she'd been forced to contort herself in the craziest ways to avoid Tsunade's chakra-fortified fists.

Once the woman seemed content that she was sufficiently limber, she began to lead Sakura through some warmups. First they stood in front of the mirrors, feet planted hip-width apart and toes slightly turned out, and moved their ribcages in slow circles, keeping everything below the waist perfectly still. Then they reversed it, moving their hips in circles but keeping everything above the waist still. Then they switched to other patterns, winding their hips around in figures of eight, and then swaying their hips while taking steps to the side, forward, and back. Then she turned on some music—something with a slow but pulsing beat—and they did everything all over again.

From a pragmatic-warrior-not-dancing-seductress standpoint, it was all very inefficient, Sakura thought, with lots of extraneous effort and wasted motion to just walk around. It made her feel very silly, although she imagined learning to dance was a lot like cleaning a messy room: things probably got much worse before they got any better. And eventually, she'd be prancing around, the very picture of feminine power and grace. At least nobody she knew was around to see her make a spectacle of herself in the meantime. Silver linings, and all that.

The woman looked pleased when they were done, and Sakura couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing hadn't been some sort of test. Good thing Sakura wasn't one to fail tests. Except for the chuunin exam.

"Haruno Sakura-san? Thank you for agreeing to rescue my daughter-in-law and my grandchild." She bowed politely. "You may call me Miyuki."

Sakura inclined her head in return. "I will do everything in my power to return them to you, Miyuki-san."

"The first competition we'd like you to infiltrate is in two weeks, and you need to place in the top 3 in order to qualify for the second competition. " Miyuki smiled. "I believe we've made the right choice by hiring you. Two weeks is not a lot of time, but based on what I've seen, I'm confident you can become appropriately accomplished latin dancers. I have high hopes for the two of you, my dear."

Miyuki nodded to Sakura, then to the corner. Sakura followed her gaze, where a pair of young men leaned against the studio door.

"That's my son, Yuzuru. He's been training your partner, that gentleman with the dark hair, since yesterday," Miyuki was saying. "Have you met?"

Sakura stared for a moment, taking in the familiar dark eyes, the slightly tousled ebony hair, the naturally pale, unblemished skin, and the sardonic smile. How long had he been there?

Shit.

"Yes," said Sakura. "We have."


A/N: Welcome! As November 10 draws near and my Team 7 and SasuSaku feels skyrocket, I find an increasing urge to contribute to this lovely fandom while I have a chance. And to put off doing schoolwork. So, please enjoy my debut work! I welcome feedback of any kind.