A/N: This is quick! A flash-fic my professor calls it. This is a result of a four-hour sitting and listening to a lecture-slash-seminar-slash-super-boring-slash-you name it, and then amidst of such you think you can rob a quick doze then a sudden flash of camera made you realize how awful your slacking position, fiddling with the pen and yawning was. Click! Please R&R! =)
AT THE BACK OF HAND-OUTS
'How boring could this get?' Sasuke thought fiddling the free ball point pen sponsored on that week long seminar. It was the second day and all his snoozing mind could reckon was how many yawning and checking of the time could he do before he'll catch himself in slumber. Dark onyx eyes wandered through his co-participants: some attentively listening as if armored with rebuts before the speaker could even have the chance of asking; some had their necks on the wall clock, checking it from time-to-time; and some were just like him, chin resting on one hand, eyes roving around and closing a deal with the greatest conqueror - sleep.
"Hopeless brats," he muttered when he caught Naruto in deep concentration, one hand under the table creating a ball of chakra- practicing his mighty rasengan. Sai, on first glance looked like simply taking down notes but was actually drawing horrendous creatures only his creative mind and hand could come up. Thin lips curved into a smirk when he saw the renowned Hyuuga cousins erectly sitting, eyes focused on the gray-haired man on the mic, as if fully comprehending what the next Einstein was talking about when in fact both of them were already asleep unknowingly without getting caught thanks to their translucent eyes.
As his eyes heeded to every corner, he noticed their table shook. Earthquake? Looking up to check the ceilings, he noted that nothing seemed unusual: no debris falling, no screams, nobody in panic, nothing but the hoarse voice of speaker filling the dead air of that twenty million-packed dome. Could it be a threat of an enemy? Akatsuki perhaps?
Eyebrows met when he looked around his seatmates. Then a smile, which immediately faded when he noticed she paused and her emerald eyes inquisitively looked at him, painted on his lips as his dark eyes found the culprit. Not a terrorist, not an earthquake…
.
.
.
but a frustrated bored, pale pink-haired participant, unleashing her talent on drawing a sakura tree (though it looked like a grader's sketch), at the back of the hand-outs provided by the seminar organizer.