The Value of Friends
Summary: A really good friend knows when you're angry. OneShot- Sakura.
Warning: Drabble-esque, complete.
Set: Story-unrelated.
Disclaimer: Standards apply.
"God, I'm tired."
Sakura's hands were wet, hot and soapy, and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. The dishes were almost finished. Only a few plates remained, and some wooden cut-boards. Next to her, in the small kitchen of the jounin station room, Sai was drying a frying pan. It was the hour after the monthly dinner someone had initiated years ago, when Sakura hadn't even been a chuunin, and which had been kept up all these years. Konoha's chuunin and jounin got together once a month to cook and eat and talk, and while there always was someone who was on one mission or another, and while sometimes there was an empty seat where, a month ago, someone had eaten and laughed and smiled on, it was… Well. Sakura couldn't find an appropriate term for the feeling of security that came with sitting in the bright room full of loud, boisterous voices, with its worn, mismatched pillows and the table that consisted of a long wooden log set unto four equally wooden squares, but she knew it felt right.
Two years ago, the first time she was invited, she had felt like a complete stranger. All these people she didn't know or only knew from far, everywhere, and the scent of food, alcohol and cigarette smoke heavy in the air. Last year she had felt more at home, had known other chuunin, had gotten to fit in better. This year, now… Well, it should suffice to say that she was buried in warm water to her elbows and was scrubbing away at more dishes than she possibly could have used all by herself.
Hinata slipped into the kitchen quietly and deposited some more dirty dishes and bowls next to Sakura's right elbow. When she caught Sakura's eyes, she smiled shyly.
"That's the last of it."
"Oh, good!" Sakura snorted. "It felt like there never would be an end to the dirty dishes."
Hinata laughed, silently, and glanced at the mountain of yet-to-be-dried cutlery, pans and pots. "I'll run back to check if there's something left that can go into the dishwasher, and then I'll help you."
"Thanks," Sakura sighed. "I really want to go home."
One last smile and a hidden glance at Sai and Hinata vanished into the corridor.
Most of the people who had attended their monthly get-together had already left, leaving the ones who drew the shorter straws to do the dishes. Sakura had volunteered to take Ino's place, since her friend had an important meeting with the Hokage tonight. Naruto probably would have backed her up as he always did, no matter the circumstances, the work and the delay. But Naruto, as Ino's Anbu partner, was absent, as well, and in consequence Sakura was stuck in a room with Sai.
Not that he had done anything to make her dislike him in any way. Sai was Sai: clever and intelligent, despite his absolutely lacking people skills. A strong fighter, a good shinobi. That Danzo had used him and trained him to be a Root agent scarcely could be something to hold against Sai himself. And, Sakura had to admit, he had made huge progress since he had been assigned to Team Seven a few years ago. But his lacking sense of humor and his propensity to take everything literally could be exhausting, on times. Sakura liked him, as a team mate – but she sometimes had trouble liking him as a person, and she didn't like that in herself. She was determined to change this – but he made it so darn hard on so many days.
"Hand me the dishes, please," she said and nodded at the stack Hinata had just brought in.
Sai turned to observe the stack and one of his black eye brows rose. "All of them?" He asked.
Sakura nodded, already focusing on the three-quarters filled dish rack in the machine. "Please."
"Hm," Sai, starting to hand her the indicated utensils one by one.
At his clearly reluctant tone, Sakura glanced up. "What?"
"I'm not sure they'll all fit."
Sakura bristled, her natural uneasiness towards people who doubted her rising. "I'll squeeze them in somehow, I suppose."
"But," Sai said, "aren't they supposed to be set into the machine in a way that allows the water to flow freely past every single dish?"
"Yes," she said, "but I rinsed the dishes before, so they should be clean even if they're stacked quite close. The glasses now, please."
Sai did as she asked but couldn't refrain from continuing his observations. "They'll break if you put them in that way."
Bristling, Sakura put down the glasses she hadn't put into the rack yet, closed the dishwasher with a bang and hit the switch stronger than she probably should have. Perhaps she was overly exhausted, tired and annoyed, and the day had been long. She regretted her outburst as soon as she had completed her actions, though more from fear she might have broken something than out of respect for Sai's opinion. The other shinobi, tough more experienced than her when it came to field work, lacked her experience and flexibility when it came to kitchen work, obviously, and his straight-out and unemotional character made him extremely hard to work with on days. But he hadn't been criticizing her, hadn't he? He'd just suggested some things he'd found logical. It wasn't his fault she took it personal when it came to her work. It was just the way she was, and Sakura disliked that streak of hers – but that was who she was. She regretted her outbursts almost the second they came, but she couldn't really stop them. It wasn't that Sai wanted to annoy her, even if he did so on a regular basis… So while Sakura whirled around to dry her hands, she decided she would ignore his reaction to her sudden outburst of anger out of courtesy.
The thing was: Sai didn't react at all.
Completely oblivious to her growing anger; and therefore continuing calmly in his work (how long could a man take to dry a simple frying pan, damnit?); he just said: "You like taking on challenges, don't you?"
Actually furious now, Sakura merely replied coolly: "I suppose."
…
Later, in the cool silence of her room and the familiar comfort of her bed, she stared at the ceiling, still fuming.
The following was the problem, she reasoned with herself in the darkness. Sakura never had been the person to calmly approach confrontations. Her friends could attest to that. She was easily angered, though seldom angry for long, and the simplest things could offend her. She had learned – with arduous effort and toil – to control her temper somewhat, but it still wasn't easy. And some people seemed to be able to wipe away years of training with just a few words of them. Sakura had been angry at Sai, yes, but the fact that he hadn't noticed even though she had made it abundantly clear had been what had gotten to her most of all. How long had they been training in the same team now? Sai hadn't responded because he hadn't known how to read her, didn't even know how to read other peoples' reactions at all. Yes, he was trying. But it was hard on him. He hadn't realized her sudden silence had been a sign she was annoyed, hadn't taken her sudden slamming of the door as a sign she was fed up with him. Even if it had been a mere triviality, she had felt talked down to, and it was in her character to react – too bad it had been her ugly side tonight. And, now that she thought about it, not many people knew how to read her correctly.
So here, she realized, lay the true value of friends. Naruto always knew when she was angry.
Suddenly, she missed him with a ferocity that made her heart ache.