Author's Note: This piece is inspired by the song, "Rules", by Jayme Dee. (It's on the Hunger Games soundtrack ^^). Anyways, I hope you enjoy and please review :)

I don't own Naruto.

Light Switch

She caught him sleeping in the rain one day.

Thunder crashed overhead and lightning decorated the overcast sky with its long tendrils of light. Rain poured down from the heavens like the tears of an angry god, pounding relentlessly onto the earth. His clothes were soaked, to say the least. His trademark, black cut-off shirt absorbed a massive amount of water and the silver plate of his Konoha headband shone with an abnormal gleam; one good thing that came from his thorough 'cleansing'.

Sakura had been rushing home from the hospital, darting between the sheltering tarpaulins of shops in order to avoid the rain as much as humanly possible. She, for one, hated the rain with an undying passion. It was too drenching, too uncontrollable, too encompassing, too unpredictable.

Most days, Sakura refused to even bring an umbrella with her, convincing herself through twisted logic that the simple act of bringing the umbrella brought the rain, and somehow not having it in her possession would guarantee a sunny day. 56% of the time her assumption proved incorrect. Like that day, for example. Cursing under her breath, she used her satchel filled with medical textbooks as a protective covering for her head. The pink hair she prized had just been carefully preened and primped by her beloved rival, Ino.

"This is a once-a-year thing, Forehead," Ino had said. "I'm a busy woman."

And in fact, this time Ino hadn't boasted. Her recent, unprecedented ascent in the ranks of Anbu Interrogation squadron raised more than a few eyebrows, but Sakura knew, beneath her mocking remarks towards the new jonin, that Ino's promotion was very much deserved. The woman single-handedly wrangled the interrogation squad into shape after Ibiki's untimely retirement, rebooted the rebuilding programs for displaced citizens, and managed to snag the title of "Konoha's Princess" for the fourth year in a row. Multi-tasker should've been circled, underlined, and in all caps on Ino's résumé.

In her own right, Sakura also stirred up admiring gossip. As the apprentice to Lady Tsunade, she was privy to not only powerful medical jutsus, but also a large amount of underground politics. The drunken ranting of Tsunade was actually intelligence disguised by a flurry of whines and groans. For example, raging monologues about the incompetence of the Sound's upper management warned Sakura, should she have to negotiate with the "pig-headed bastards", that any spoken agreement must immediately be sealed on paper by pen and blood. Every slight, seemingly insignificant comment further prepared the young woman for the mantle she was soon to inherit. Obviously, Sakura would take up the role as the Medical Sannin of her generation as soon as Tsunade deemed her ready. The second, less clear role Tsunade aimed to prepare her for was that of Naruto's most trusted advisor when, not if, he became Hokage.

The Medical Sannin was old. Though the justsus preserving her youthful appearance fooled a majority of the population, her calculating eyes could not be deceived by her own magic trick. Silver strands streaked across her blond hair, and wrinkles clung around her eyelids. The unexpected pain in her wrists and fingers that woke Tsunade each morning surprised her; she had not expected arthritis to set in so early. The pressing weight of her age constantly reminded Tsunade every day that Naruto's ascension to Hokage-dom would come sooner than anyone expected, and that the young, brash Hokage-elect needed all the help he could get. So Tsunade advised and taught and implied, desperately seeking to impart any and all wisdom she could.

"Be observant," Tsunade had lectured that morning, "Notice what must be noticed and act accordingly."

With this lesson still ringing in her mind, Sakura easily noticed the dark lump in the middle of the field next to her dingy apartment building. Concerned it might be an innocent civilian suffering from an epileptic fit, she forgot all cares for her hair and rushed to the blob's side.

Unfortunately, the dark splotch in the field of green turned out to be Sakura's substitute teammate, Sai, sleeping with a placid expression on his face. Not even the raindrops sliding down his cheeks, into his mouth, through his hair, disturbed his slumber. Contrasting him spectacularly, Sakura's soft curls that Ino put so much care into making fell into disarray, horridly limp and damp. A smear of dirt decorated her cheek. Sakura sighed as she kneeled down and reached out a hand to check his pulse. It was her civil duty to make sure he wasn't sick, dead or dying. But the moment her warm hand touched the clammy underside of his neck, Sai jolted upright and said, "Boo."

Caught completely off guard, Sakura tumbled backwards and directly into a mud puddle. It soaked her clothing thoroughly. She scowled angrily at Sai who smiled innocently back at her, but to Sakura's great annoyance, the smile never lit up his eyes. The synthetic expressions Sai produced to fit any situation consistently filled Sakura with uneasiness.

"I got you," he said creepily, fake smile spreading into a fake grin, much to Sakura's chagrin.

And suddenly she couldn't take his falsity anymore; she was too wet, too cold, and far too dirty. Sakura's fist slammed into his nose. Appalled at her loss of control, Sakura immediately began apologizing, gently prodding Sai's broken nose. By now, Sai no longer maintained the cheerful guise and settled on a completely neutral expression. Blood gushed out his nasal cavity, and finding the medical supplies on hand to be insufficient, Sakura reluctantly invited him into her home.

While Sakura retrieved the necessary supplies, Sai sat on her patched up, living room sofa with two twirled tissues in his nostrils. With an expression that in fact expressed nothing at all, his gaze wandered around the room, searching for some sort of catalyst. After finding none, he ambled after Sakura, knowing she was a steady source of entertainment.

"Now where did I put that pain killer? Yes! There it is!" Sakura shouted triumphantly, twirling around quick enough to give Sai, who had been standing right behind her, whiplash.

Face to face with her infuriating cohort, Sakura involuntarily blushed at the proximity of him. Intrigued, Sai took both of his pale hands and placed them on either side of her face, bringing Sakura closer to him.

"So this is why they named you Sakura."

She kneed him in the nuts.

Suffice to say, Sai was incapacitated the rest of the day.

Two books were propped up in front of Sakura's keen eye. One, a textbook, displayed an immaculate map of the chakra channels of the human body. The other, much thinner book described the many ways of preparing chicken for chicken noodle soup. Attempting to follow the model of her friend Ino, Sakura studied for an exam about the intricacies of chakra transplantation and prepared a meal for herself and one other. As she worked, this other lazed away on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, an ice pack resting on his nose and a pillow protecting his groin. Sai had yet to leave, due to the untamable temper of Sakura Haruno and her medic-nin stubbornness to never release an untreated patient.

After Sakura's savage and undeserved (at least Sai thought so) attack, Sai collapsed into a heap on her kitchen floor, for once fully experiencing a distinct pain. Sakura appeared to have frozen, her eyes fixated on his, noticing something more in his eyes than the usual, inky darkness. She sighed, realizing she really had no other choice this time.

"Sai, I'm…" she struggled with the word, "sorta sorry. Do you need…help? Getting up, that is?" Sai shook his head 'no' as he gingerly picked himself off the cream tile. "Your nose needs more work, and I'll see to this new…er…injury as well. Just…lie down and I'll cook something, okay? Just stay, Sai. Please."

Stay. Don't. Lie down. Sai always dealt better with direct orders and followed her instructions dutifully. Besides which, she had provided a catalyst for him, giving him a distinct experience to interrupt the constant monotony of his life. The aroma of warm soup wafted to where Sai lay and rose to the rafters.

Not entirely… unpleasant, Sai noted.

Once again, he ambled over to where Sakura worked. She merely blinked twice and continued to cook and study. Sai leaned against the counter, his hands dangerously close to the hot stove, and watched the young woman. He figured that this was not an abnormal routine for her, and that her duty as a shinobi came first and was therefore irreparably weaved into every other aspect of her life. He supposed some must admire such dedication but besides her indomitable work ethic, he found little else about her to be admirable; she was too drenching, too uncontrollable, too encompassing, too unpredictable.

Suddenly, Sakura jerked, her eyes green eyes wide. She lunged for his hand, currently resting and frying on the stove. The distinct scent of burning flesh had hit her nostrils, and once again, Sakura's medic-nin instincts had kicked into gear.

"Oh my god, Sai! What the hell were you thinking?"

Sakura cradled his damaged hand, inspecting the degree to which his hand had burned. After contemplating an appropriate response, Sai realized that answering, "I was thinking about you," might not be entirely helpful in this situation.

Instead, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. Don't bother."

Astonished, Sakura wrenched her gaze from his injury to his eyes. The brute honesty in his eyes dispelled any notion that he had lied. The pain he should have been feeling was not present in his body language. He looked exposed to her. Now, she could see hints of exhaustion haunting his face and a raw sadness that gnawed at her heartstrings. Gently, she cupped his injured hand in hers and pressed it to her lips.

"Sai… In ROOT…" she hesitated, "What exactly did Danzo do to you?"

His eyes simply bored into hers.

Sakura carried out two piping hot bowls of soup and placed one in front of Sai and one in front of herself. She blew gently on the stew, and then proceeded to scoop a generous helping of the warm liquid into her mouth.

"Ahh. The perfect thing on an imperfect day. Don't you think so, Sai? I bet you were cold, lying out there in the rain," she rambled awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood.

Sai looked from the steam of his soup to Sakura and back to his soup.

"What is 'cold'?"

Sakura stopped consuming her soup and stared at him, confusion evident in her emerald eyes.

"What…is cold?" she repeated incredulously.

Sai's eyes narrowed. "I asked you first."

"No, it's just…" she sighed again, "Sai, have you ever had goose-bumps?" Sai showed no recognition of the word. "Well, they are little bumps that appear on your skin when you are cold."

"But Sakura, what is cold? Not 'how do I recognize when I am cold?'"

Sakura sat thoughtfully for a moment before reaching over to grasp Sai's hand within her own. After maintaining that position for a few moments, Sakura abruptly turned away, relinquishing her hold on him. Sai immediately felt the absence of her skin, of her scent, of her presence. It felt as if his skin relaxed against hers, and when she disappeared, his cells retracted, clinging closer to his bones.

"Do you feel cold now, Sai?" she asked softly. "Cold is an absence of energy, heat, passion, whatever. It is knowing you have lost."

Sai pondered her somewhat philosophical explanation before presenting yet another question.

"Did you feel cold when the Uchiha left?"

Sakura flinched but answered anyway, her eyes poised to meet his inquisitive gaze.

"Like my heart had been encased by a blizzard."

Sakura sighed as she mindlessly whacked her cheek with her pen. Three hours earlier, Tsunade, completely wasted, happily grabbed her apprentice's hands and led her in an impromptu 'happy dance' around her office. After several minutes of crazed twirling and Sakura's hysterical laughter, Tsunade spun her one last time, sending Sakura directly into the Hokage's desk chair.

In an unusual expression of affection, Tsunade leaned in and kissed Sakura's cheek and whispered, "I'm taking a surprise day off. Shhh. Don't tell anyone."

Sakura whispered conspiratorially back, "Your secret is safe with me."

Tsunade tilted her head back and let out a guffaw. She then gestured at a mountain of papers on her desk. "Fill these out for me, darling? Pretty please?" The Hokage batted her eyelashes for added persuasive appeal.

Her apprentice looked at her, horror evident on her face.

"What? Make Naruto do this! He's the damn Hokage-elect, not me!"

"Ah, but Naruto is… indisposed," Tsunade scoffed, "sorting out his bromance issues with the Uchiha."

Sakura's mouth curved into a perfect 'O'. Since Sasuke returned, broken and defeated, Sakura had done her best to avoid him entirely. The memories of that day–Naruto's blood dripping from Sasuke's beautifully pale hands, the endless gushing of red from Naruto's chest, the sick laughter of the mentally unhinged–polluted the innocent infatuation that had dominated her childhood days. She could not forgive. She could not forget. But above all, she could never hate that poor, lost boy. From love to pity to hatred to love. An endless cycle of emotions fueled by an insatiable rage.

That scared her. That rage she could not calm. That rage she did not want to calm.

Sai surprised her with his bluntness the previous day. Many friends learned not to bring Sasuke up in conversations anymore, knowing of Sakura's uncertain feelings toward him, but Sai… in his peculiar, abstract way, calmed Sakura considerably. His lack of care for his own self ignited Sakura's fierce, protective instincts. His careless pursuit of the truth revealed deeper layers of his complicated personality and endeared him to her. And every so often, Sakura caught a glimpse of genuine emotion in his eyes. His entire existence provided an intricate distraction for her; figuring him out was far more difficult than any jigsaw.

So now, a new, dark haired boy dominated Sakura's thoughts, easily distracting her.

Ino, hoping to kidnap Sakura for a quick lunch break, noticed with a smirk her dazed expression. Dramatic as always, Ino quietly crept up behind Sakura's chair and tickled her sides. Sakura jolted upright, screeching. Ino giggled uncontrollably.

"I hate you, Pig," Sakura said while clutching her abdomen.

"Feeling's mutual, Forehead." Ino stuck her tongue out at Sakura. "Lunch?" Ino offered.

Sakura nodded her head in agreement. Once reaching the restaurant destination of choice, Ino began yet another interrogation.

"So… What were you thinking about?"

"No one."

"I said 'what,' not 'who,'" Ino smirked. "I can recognize your bull shit by now, pig. 'No one' is definitely 'someone'. Wait…" her smirk widened into a grin, "are you in la-la-la-la-love? Oh my god, spill."

"No. No. No. No. No. And no."

"Then it shouldn't be a big deal to tell me who this 'no one' really is."

"Sai."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Is he bothering you?"

Sakura didn't answer and instead studied the menu intently. She then signaled for a waiter to come take their order. After that trivial business, Ino continued her questioning.

"I'll kick his ass if he is."

"He's…not. I'm just… worried about him."

"Why?" Ino questioned incredulously. "I thought he annoyed the hell out of you."

Sakura remained silent for a few moments before starting. "You know how when people smile, like really smile, you can see this… happiness in their eyes? Well with Sai, I never see it. Never."

Ino interrupted, "He was raised in ROOT, Sakura. That's how they all turned out: emotionally inept and socially awkward."

Sakura shot her an annoyed glance. "I know, Ino. I know. It's just sometimes, I am so close. I am so very close to making his eyes light up. I can see the beginnings of a glimmer but it never reaches fruition; it never transfers into a real emotion. It's like I'm too short to reach the light switch, but I can feel its outline with my fingertips. It's infuriating, and it makes me angry that somehow, every happy thought, every sorrowed feeling, every inkling of anything was so savagely ripped from him. I'm just so…" She couldn't finish.

Ino tilted her head and offered a comforting smile.

"I just want to fix him."

Somehow, Sakura wasn't surprised to see a familiar black mass in the field near her apartment.

"Don't live with regrets, Forehead. If you care, if you want to help him, do something. Don't sit around and mope," Ino had encouraged that afternoon.

This time, infinitely more gentle than the day before, Sakura gently tapped the sleeping boy's headband. Sai blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared at Sakura, waiting for her to yell or scold or punch him. When she did none of those things, Sai warily sat up, suspicious of Sakura's current motives. He noticed that today she looked… sad? Happy? Confused? He couldn't tell; she looked different.

"You must really like this field, huh?" She murmured. "This is the second time you've fallen asleep here."

Sai cocked his head to the side and shrugged. "I have nowhere else to go."

This threw the young woman for a loop. She then pondered for a little while, a delicate hand resting on her chin. She obviously came to a decision when her gaze focused on him. She offered him a hand.

"Stay with me."

Normally, wasn't this sort of thing supposed to be formed as a question, not an order? Sai simply stared at her some more.

Noticing his confusion- or at least she thought it was confusion- she hurriedly added, "It's not for free though. You have to change light bulbs and cook and stuff like that. Oh, and of course clean. I hate cleaning. How 'bout it?"

In her eyes… was it hope? Love? Laughter? Sai didn't know what exactly she wanted or how she felt, but he placed his pale hand in hers anyway; he had nothing to lose.

And suddenly, with her hand in his, the chill that had haunted him since their last encounter dissipated.

For some reason, he didn't feel so cold anymore.