Disclaimer: So, theoretically, in order to own Naruto, I have to be a man, be of Japanese nationality (so therefore, be able to speak it fluently), and be able to draw manga.

Um... then I guess I don't qualify. At all. XDXD (And so, I guess I don't own Naruto…)

A/N: Hmm… this story is going to be one of the many, many clichés in the Naruto category. (:cough: Sasuke :cough:) And I won't even claim that I'm doing it more originally than the others, because I'm not. Although hopefully, my writing style is pretty good … XP

(There will be the "possibility" of a Sakura x Kakashi pairing, but the story itself is not going to be a romance.)

12.23.05: I changed the title and did one little edit with Sakura's "thoughts." Sorry for any inconveniences!

Your Saving Grace
(Note: Previously known as Reprisals)
By celinae

1/3: An Inebriated Encounter

XXXX

She didn't see her teammates anymore. In her heart, Sakura knew it was inevitable, but that didn't stop the crushing emptiness, the memories that sometimes floated back when she was stitching a wound or pouring chakra into a patient to mend their broken arm.

Naruto, smiling eagerly up at her, his eyes glowing with a ridiculous hope, one she could never find the strength to crush.

Sasuke, looking down at her as her vision turned black, the tears she hadn't known she cried blurring her view, but his expression unreadable all the same.

Kakashi…?

She wasn't sure what to think of Kakashi, the least noteworthy of the three. But he's the only one left in the village, Sakura reminded herself. Naruto was always doing some important mission or the other, and Sasuke…

Sasuke was dead, and not even Naruto could bring him back.

Revenge; the word played on her lips, leaving a sour aftertaste. She would never forget the look on Naruto's face when he heard the news, his face twisting into a painful grimace. However, she wanted to forget; didn't want to remember those shattered emotions that lingered whenever she looked into his eyes.

It had hurt her, too, when she learned of Sasuke's fate. But in those three years (which were then five, and now eight) Sakura had…

She winced as she gulped the alcohol down, burning her throat with its fierce, bitter taste. Normally she didn't drink, but that morning a group of undercover ninjas on a mission in the Wave country had returned. She had spent nearly fourteen hours treating the casualties, which ranged from mild to life threatening.

Sakura knew that she should be in bed, resting until she had to wake up again and face another strength-sucking day. Her muscles were sore from running to all the numerous emergency rooms, and her chakra stores were dangerously depleted, but—

She sighed again, staring into the convex bottom of her cup, where drops of liquor still clung to the glass. Wearily, Sakura fiddled with the cup, tilting it so that the overhead lights illuminated the translucent liquid. She felt so heavy and tired, but she couldn't go to sleep – not yet.

She reached into her jounin vest and pulled out some bills, pushing them across the counter before, reluctantly, lifting her body out of the barstool. The night air woke her up a little, but she walked slowly anyway, afraid that a fast pace would make her legs collapse.

Sakura had always prided herself on her ninja skills, but she was so tired, and could barely concentrate on moving her feet. So it wasn't much of a surprise that she actually crashed into him before registering that: a) there was a body walking in front of her; b) it was a man's body; c) it was a jounin's body; and, the hardest, d) it was Kakashi's body.

If it had been any other day, (or, Sakura decided after several rather pessimistic thoughts, if she had been several years younger) Sakura would have said a guarded "hello" and "how are you doing," before going on her way.

But really, Sakura didn't know where she was going. Or, more likely, all her thoughts on her destination were replaced by groggy observations that she would have been better without. Such as observations about how Kakashi seemed so much more solemn in the lurid lights of late-night bars and how his white hair shone in the faint moonlight.

Finally, her ninja senses caught up to her (tell me again how I managed to survive so many rescue missions?), but the alcohol kicked in (finally… although I wish the rate of diffusion had been just a bit faster…) and made her stumble, her head swinging forward and colliding with his chest, while her hands hovered uncertainly, suddenly flustered by her position. (Although how my hands can be flustered in this situation when my head takes forever in getting to that point… this situation defies the rules of biology, dammit)

From what she could tell of his widened eyes and tense body, Sakura knew he was surprised. She was surprised, as well.

"Kami-sama really has no sense of humor," she muttered, extricating her strangely leaden head from its landing amidst painfully bulging scroll pockets.

"Haruno-san… I didn't expect to meet you here," he said, his hand reaching out to steady her as she swayed on her weak legs.

She licked her chapped lips and smiled weakly up at him. "Y-yeah, I didn't expect to find myself here, either," she replied, before remembering the proverb, "think before you speak."

What, so now she was some pathetic teenage girl with over-inflated expectations of life? Sakura suddenly remembered the reason why she never went willingly to parties and social gatherings; she had the ability to screw up tons of conversations with her ill-timed replies. (Maybe in another life, Hinata and I were sisters…) the funniest

"Well, I'll help you home, unless you're okay, Sakura-chan?" For a moment, Sakura was miffed at the almost derogatory honorific, but her ankle trembled and she bit back a cry of pain. "Here…"

She suddenly found herself being carried in his arms as he ran over the rooftops She would have protested, but she was so tired…

Occasionally he looked down at her in concern, but she ignored his gaze and closed her eyes, unconsciously seeking the warmth of his skin through his uniform. Turning away from the chilly breeze, she was surrounded by the memories his scent brought up, a comforting blend of sweat, clean laundry, dirt, and pine.

Or… ginger…

Her thoughts were interrupted when he set her down, gently, in front of her door. Her muscles twitched in exasperation, because she really wanted to get inside and escape the confrontation that was sure to come (although soon, Sakura had no idea, and really hoped that it would be when she was sober and well-rested enough to make up some good excuses), but, the thing was, Kakashi was still holding on to her.

Or really, her half-dead brain decided to point out, that she was the one clinging to him.

He didn't say anything, just watched impassively as she trembled from the freezing temperatures. His unreadable expression brought up the memories she had tried to keep at bay, but she couldn't look away.

He didn't look that much different from when he used to be her sensei, but from her proximity she could see one or two faint wrinkles at the corner of his visible eye, and a few strands of hair near his hitai-ate that glittered (Kakashi's version of gray hairs? Sakura wondered).

Sakura, on the other hand, knew all too well what she looked like. Desperate, broken, drunk, worn out… all the characteristics that she had never believed she would never display. She knew that was what Kakashi saw, and although Inner Sakura briefly surfaced and demanded that she put on a fake smile and smarten her appearance, the older and more tired Sakura couldn't give a damn.

And really, the only thing that mattered in this dark and mercilessly cold night was that Kakashi had his arm around her waist, and her hand was curled around his neck. His skin felt so smooth and hot beneath her fingers, and she could feel his pulse beating erratically, the only sign of his discomposure.

Sakura stared for another second into the dark glimmer of his eye, watching him with an almost sad surprise, before uncurling her hand from around his neck and rummaging in a few of her pockets.

"Shit…" she murmured, contemplating what to do now that she couldn't find her house keys.

"What's wrong?" His voice was almost hoarse, and Sakura looked up again at him detachedly, re-checking every pocket of her pocket-covered vest. "I-I can't seem to find my keys."

He smirked then, and Sakura could just see the tilt of his mouth under his mask. She tensed as he reached around her, thinking that he was going to molest her, or something equally perverted. (Except she didn't know why she was thinking this, and why she was thinking about why she was thinking that, especially since she really … did not want to know.)

And then he twisted open the doorknob, dropped the key ring in her hands, and waved nonchalantly as he walked away.

"Later," his indifferent voice reached her, "Sakura."

"Th-thanks."

Absently, Sakura wondered how the hell he had gotten hold of her keys when she was absolutely sure she had checked every pocket, and eventually went into her apartment and shut the door.

She dreamt of cold, emotionless eyes.

XXX

Across the street he watched the lights turn off in her room, and then disappeared into the shadows.

XXXX

A/N: The next chapter will probably be finished during the winter break. XP What can I say... I'm really angsty right now. XD